Holiday Survival Part 2

Well, for some of you school is a thing of the past, gone are the days of writing papers about the usage of slug slime and its effect on the environments near and around retirement communities. You can frolic about and not have to deal with the blinding panic that comes with exams that judge your very being in 90 minutes or less... i'm not bitter... But its always comforting to know that family is always there to judge you. They seem to plan and condition themselves with intensity that could only be akin to what an olympic athlete goes through... but i digress, moving on. For those who are trapped at home with prying questions, i have come up with some evasive maneuvers as we work our way through the holidays...

1. Working hard or hardly working?
-- Just because you have joined the workforce, does not mean you have also aged 70 years and suddenly wear suspenders and sit around the water cooler talking about your new mini van. Life is not over, to avoid the "my first real job stories" its best to do imply that you aren't doing anything that someone can relate to.

EX: "If i were to choose i would say hardly working, that's the best part about being a call girl, i can make my own hours..."

2. I can't believe you're so old!
--It seems no matter when people saw you last you are getting older, imagine that. The bright side is that at least in a few years they won't be able to ask that anymore, but the key to evasion is just the right amount of snarkiness so that there will be no rebuttal.

EX: "I am getting older, but the Grim Reaper hasn't asked to be my facebook friend yet so i think i still have a few good years left."

3. How's life in the real world?
--Look just because our lives my have been built on a foundation of red plastic cups, running on a mixture of redbull and some sort of drink that would even make Kanye envious, and we functioned on a sleeping schedule that raccoons revered does not mean that we were not in the real world. We were in the real-ish world, very close to the real thing.

EX: To be honest there is no come back from this, partly because its hard not to be a total beezy and also because after the afore-mentioned words were uttered i was then standing over the unconscious body of a senior.

And so my frolicking followers, i hope that you survived everything and had a happy holidays.

Holiday Survival Part 1

Last Christmas i spent some time south of the border pondering a career change and i gave you, my benevolent bookworms, some advice in ways to survive these coming days as we move out of Sharing Season and into the Season of giving. These tips are mostly for those who still find themselves deep within the strangling clutches of academia. At the time i figured that i would have left  the hallowed ivy cover womb that is college and be out in the world. This, is not the case, and so i have a need for this once again, i hope it will help you, seeing as it is of little comfort to me as i softly weep over my degree every morning before class.

These answers are to avoid any of the when i was your age talk, as well as mildly disturb the person who has made it their mission to interview you...

1. The sexual update/mate selection question

-- i find that this works best by going the complete other direction, and don’t be afraid to be specific

EX: “You know i’m not so much into boys anymore, i’m really attracted to aliens, but not just any, only the ones from 2 galaxies down, and 1 over”

2. What’s your major/life study?

--this is a formula start with The History of - followed by a word that means hard to find (rare, unique, obscure) - then a random country - and last anything you could find in a library or museum 

EX: “I’m studying The History of Obscure Madagascar Statues”

3.What is the best/most important thing you have learned in college/your life?

--this is where one really must avoid the stories of the olden days of 1920. Now you can go two routes the honest

EX: “i’ve really learned the effects of large amounts of alcohol on the body and property that’s not mine”

or the other option of a class that you really learned a lot in, again a formula, Dr. - followed by the 2 names of tool bags that you can think of - “and his class on the” - an SAT word (juxtaposition, globalization, opposition...) - of - a food of any kind 

EX: “The class i learned the most in was definitely Dr. Phil Trump’s and his class on the Juxtaposition of Mashed Potatoes"

4. And then of course the future plans talk

--Tell them you are planning to join and organization/group, but everyone knows someone who was in the peace corps, or red cross and no one wants to sit through that boredom... so simply choose a emotion - and follow it by something you would find in a city

EX: “I think i’m going to join the group Happy School Busses/Angry Sidewalks its all about getting kinds to school, and repairing the cracks in their own emotional sidewalks.” 


Stay tuned for part 2 for those who are in the real world, because as we know, nothing saves you from prying questions from your family. 

Dear Screaming Dysfunctional Couple that Lives Above me

Dear Screaming Dysfunctional Couple that Lives Above me,

To say that it is late would be an understatement. The entire cast of Jersey Shore went to sleep almost an hour ago. I also have to say that I both commend and am appalled by the fact that you can scream for hours while doing what I can only assume to be a square dance. makes me think of home. I personally never really considered that my yelling points would really be driven home had I added a do-si-do at the end. 

At first I wasn't sure that there was a man involved in this dysfunction at all, since all I could hear were the rambling cries of a cat-lady in the making. However, as I lay awake imagining what type of instrument could go through a ceiling yet is easy to camouflage upon moving out, I hear the distinct murmur of a man who knows he is fighting a losing battle. This is further verified as this gentleman tries to work his way out of the dog mansion he finds himself in with what seems to be a bad two-step. And to the woman with the voice range Mariah Carrey would envy: we get it. he doesn't appreciate you. The first 12 times you screeched it I was unclear, but now I understand. He is ungrateful. Blah-blah-blah. Go get a kitten that will be the start of what I'm sure will be a loving pack for your later years, and drown your sorrows in ice cream. I think Ben and Jerry's actually makes a flavor called Bitterness. You might gain 800 pounds and fall through my ceiling, but at least it will keep your mouth busy.

Wishing you strep throat resulting in voice loss,

Sidney

Season of Sharing

Congratulations to all of you, my fantastical followers! We have survived the Thanksgiving coma and are now on to that awkward time in between Thanksgiving and Christmas. As we all know, the second you stand up from the table after eating, we are assaulted with dancing snowmen, creepy nutcrackers, and Santa hats on everything. Let’s just call these few weeks the Season of Sharing: we’re not quite ready to give, but have a small bit of kindness that allows for some joint usage of personal items. Here are some other things that make this time unique.

1. No longer are there the leaves of fall surrounding you in a blanket of bright, lovely colors. They have now all fallen on the ground and created this awesome brownish-yellow mush on the sidewalk which makes a delightful Sharing Season slip-n-slide for all those attempting to live their life.

2. Bad holiday movies are everywhere. Lifetime (the channel of reverie and fear, as you may have noticed) and other, lesser channels have an amazing ability to find things that could not be removed from Christmas, and make many movies about them. In the last few years, the trend has been golden retrievers. I have seen more than a few commercials for holiday movies involving one of Air Bud’s many progeny on multiple channels as I flip quickly away from my holiday nemesis Kay Jewelers. They’re cute, but let’s be real—they really only bring to mind toilet paper.

3. Decorations. Now, I think it is safe to say that Christmas lights really do make everything better. Where I take issue is when we go completely off the map with random creatures. Let us think this system through: random animal (armadillo) + accessories (Santa hat and scarf) x Christmas-like setting (giant, inflatable snow globe) DOES NOT EQUAL PROPER HOLIDAY DECORATIONS. Honestly. They will stick anything into a 6ft inflatable snow globe.

And so, my revered readers, we will suffer through these few weeks of this strange Season of Sharing together. Have no fear.

Every Kill Begins with Kay

Attention to all who come here: someone answered my plea and/or appreciated my well-placed mass suicide joke enough to become a follower. This is a big day for me, partly because I was proposed to in a coffee shop this morning at 6:30 a.m. by a person I believe to be crazy. I think this is because he was more concerned with my soft pants (the champions of clothing that they are for all who dare to have an educational experience before 10 a.m.), than he was with our future. But more importantly, I have another follower. You might think to yourself, “Hey, this lovely and caring person decided to follow you many moons ago. Why so late?” Well, that brings me to my amazing update as to what I have been doing of late.

Fearing the TV: To all who know me, these are some strong words. Let’s be real—there is almost nothing that can part me from that box of awesome, but for now I watch with caution. Why, you may ask, my elegant eleven? It is that time of year where not a channel is safe from “Every Kiss Begins with K.” Time for some sub-points up in here. . .

a. You, Kay Jewelers, are forcing me to creep all up in some romantic moment between some moderately good-looking couple in their pajamas. What do they want from me? I would just like to point out that if not for the jingle, this could easily be a herpes commercial (“I have herpes. . .” “And I have no desire to get them in the future.” “To apologize for cheating, I got her this stupid diamond necklace to show her that just because we can’t have sex anymore, I do not resent buying her things and having a good snuggle. . .”).
b. Any child who has ever had the misfortune of seeing their parents make out isn’t plotting ways to see it again, let along hiding behind a corner watching.
c. There is a time and a place for the great gift of jewelry, but any sort of mild disaster isn’t one of them. A cozy cabin lightning storm? Might as well be the crazy All State guy.

If you haven’t seen any of these commercials, I’m sorry to sound like a loon. And I totally get it—cable reception must suck under your rock.

Emergency Contacts and Lies

I was thinking about my emergency contacts, mostly because I was driving. Having not gotten the racecar-driver gene despite my last name being McLaren, I can admit--and both my sister and a dead bobcat can attest to--my incompetence behind the wheel. This made me think about my family and who specifically I would want to receive the call in an emergency, As I thought more, I realized that they have, in fact, been lying to me for all these years. Here are the little white/gray/dark black lies they have uttered throughout the years:

1. Brownie Points: Call me impressionable, but I did many things in my youth under the misapprehension that I could somehow cash in all these "points" for some sort of reward, much like the a businessman cashing in his frequent flyer bonus. I had visions of frolicking at Disneyland (alone, because my sister did not share my quest for the most brownie points), or Epcot Center, or at least Dairy Queen. . . In fact, I have so many accrued, unused brownie points I am practically diabetic. Oh, mother-- you got away with it then, but no more.

2. God's Country: For many years, I made a pilgrimage to God's Country with my mother and sister. Where is this Great Land of the Higher Power? Ohio. More specifically, Cleveland. My grandfather told me this when I asked him why he never left. If you've ever been anywhere near Cleveland, or looked at the bottom of your coffee cup before you've thrown it away, you have an idea of how false this truly is. . . I can safely say Ohio is not a place people are fighting wars over.

3. Slight Pinch: This nonsense is told to us for many moons as we grow up. I think the first time I heard it was as I was being born. . . It is always a lie or an exaggeration. If by "pinch" they mean eye-crossing, searing pain, then, hey-- they are right on! If they mean "pinch" as in "Oh, pinch me! I think I'm dreaming!", they are way, way off. So whenever I hear this expression, I immediately start to cringe and even bodily recoil because I know what's coming. And it's not slight in any way, shape, or form.

So I have decided that my former family members might not be getting the call.

One Year Ago...

Four [one, actually, but who’s counting?] score and about one year ago I came into your lives. I know that everyone has this day written on their calendar and are overjoyed that I write to you every week or so. In a year writing to you, my fair follower, I have learned many things, and so I will share them—and some stats—on this the day of my one year anniversary. . .

1. I have 10 followers. Of those, I believe that four actually follow me and the rest are just supportive. To those who read on the sly, I say FOLLOW ME, partly because it will make me feel good and partly because I have a whole batch of Kool-Aid that will go bad if you don’t (see how I just weave mass suicide humor in with ease? Where was that more than a year ago?).

2. My most viewed post is “Dear Drunk Girl Weaving Outside My Window” with 46 views. I think that this is the case because everyone has the pleasure of knowing a young alcoholic that can’t tell time and understands my disapproval.

3. My total page views are 2,138. This is respectable, and I will pretend that most of these views aren’t from people related to me partly because this could be true seeing as my father probably can’t even find this blog, and partly because it will soothe my agitated self-worth.

4. As to the future, have no fear my contagious comrades, I will be here for a long time. Everything in this world annoys me and so I will never run out of bothersome people that make for lovely rules and regulations on how not to lead a life. I hope all ten of you stay with me.

Halloween Hangups

Well my clamoring comrades, I write to you in the throws of a conundrum my great and brilliant mind is trying to work out. I am currently attempting to assemble a Halloween costume. Normally this would not be a mental hurdle, save for the fact that I am no longer a young, bright-eyed child of single digit years. Today, at my age there are some rules I have found that must be followed, otherwise some sort of public ridicule will follow (and its Halloween so that could mean a number of things...). I will now share them with you along with my dazzling comments, because i know the 4.7 people that read this will be thankful.

1. Costume Size: there is your real age, then your Halloween age. While you may be in your early 20's, many find themselves in a costume meant for a small tike ages 3 to 5. Allow me to clarify, oh Drunken Slutmonster: 3 to 5 is the age of the toddler that should be in your "sexy" Thomas the Train outfit. That “3 to 5” on the package is an age, not how many drinks it’s guessing you had before you walked into that innocent Wallgreens and decided that it would be “supercute!”

2. Ears and Tails: despite what you think, just adding ears and a tail do not make a costume; they make a deformity. They do not justify you squeezing into a unitard and calling it a kitty. Maybe you feel that they represent evolution, but if that were true you would have been dead many moons ago.

3. Make-up: sadly, due to ‘The Jersey Shore’ and the downfall of humanity, the makeup people put on on Halloween is only allegedly different from their everyday regimen, but I'm not so sure. Anyone that has been to a party with twenty-somethings in this post-‘Hangover’ era knows that people, mostly ladies, do show up to parties wearing makeup that is very similar to that of a zombie. On the 31st, they just add a nose and some whiskers.

4. Bastardization: as a general rule, one should not recycle costumes that you wore in your infant/toddler years when, I am told, you were cute. I don't care what way you slice it, pumpkin + baby = cute and a bit squishy, but pumpkin + anyone over the age of 6 = boob cover. Moral of the story: stop bastardizing your youth and move away from the intimates section at Walmart.


And so as you can see, my mysterious munchkins, it’s not that easy when, due to the life choices of others, Halloween becomes a whole different kind of scary when the sun goes down.

In Fear with the Shades Drawn

So, for those ten people who care and are wondering what I have been up to lately—what might be on my brilliant young mind—I thought I would share the recent highlights with you:

1. I live in fear of the Snickers woman. I fully believe that it’s not just me—everyone has to be scared of her. It is not enough that we must be visually assaulted by our favorite childhood characters—slutted up and worn 12-sizes-too-small by girls that have just drunkenly stumbled off the bus from Playboyville (yes, I believe that in a few years, Hugh Hefner will have a town); Now we, like so many diabetics, live in fear of caramel and nougat.

2. I also might be arrested in the near future. And this brings me to my next point in the line of this week’s winners. So I will tell you a tale, part horror, part fall-of-humanity—all the makings of a good story. Before I begin though, let me just say that I plan on having this face until I’m 67 and 3 months, and that means expressions should be made at a minimum. . . but I digress. Anyway. It begins on the bus going home. It was crowded, so a man sat down next to me. I began apologizing for my portfolio, a large black canvas case, which was in his way. To be nice (and because I was bored), I asked him about what his major was and whatnot. After we talked about that he said, “Let me guess. . . You’re an artist?”

This is where things went a big awry. I looked him dead in the eyes and said, “No, I’m not an artist. I’m a freelance assassin.” I realize upon looking back that I maybe should have smiled, indicating that this was, in fact, a joke. However, that is not my MO, so I just looked at him. He got a bit uncomfortable and asked, “So. . . What’s in the bag?” I replied, “Long distance rifle, scopes, hand guns. . . You know, the basics.” Again, this was a time a smile might have been appropriate, but instead I held his gaze and stared him down. Let’s just say things got really uncomfortable. Long silence. And then the bus pulled away from the stop. Twenty-three minutes of awkward

I live in fear of the Snickers woman, adult Tinker Bells, and law enforcement. I sit with the shades drawn. . .

Dear Men of the World

Today I was almost spit on as I was walking down the street. This disgusting act was not aimed at me, but it would have landed upon me if I had not been careful. This harrowing experience has prompted me to put angry fingers to keys. . .

Dear Men of the World,

Why is it that you feel every fluid that is produced by your body is a substance that people would want you to share? Apparently, life is different with a ding-a-ling, but I for one (and I feel comfortable speaking here for all women), do not have a desire to see or come in contact with any liquid your body produces. Somewhere along the line, your less-evolved brains made some misguided conclusion in regards to this subject, and have been harassing the finer sex with it ever since. We do not, in fact, feel overjoyed watching you pee, spit, sweat, or release the Underpants Navy on or upon poor, unsuspecting civil structures or landscape-- are you trying to punish the bush? Let's leave it at this: unless we ask (which we probably won't), let's have a rule that states that this swill that you are so fond of stays only within your dwelling. Furthermore, this nectar that you produce with such pride should stay primarily in the bathroom, unless asked otherwise. And let's face it: you have a hard enough time containing things even in a controlled environment. I can say, with almost complete certainty, that you are many steps away from awesome, and in an effort to raise your rank-- do this for me. Please. I beg you. If something of yours gets on me again, I will flip a lid. Thank you.

Sincerely,
Sidney

City Symphony

As some of you may know, i have now officially moved to a city whose population is above "embarrassing". I think it is now safe to say that i have moved out of the sticks, past the covered wagons, and on to moderate adulthood. For those of you i have left behind to frolic with Bambi and friends, the city is a nosy place. It is filled with horns, sirens, strange people, and assault. Through this one can receive a unwelcome symphony of sounds at any time of the day or night. And so, my randy reader, i will share with you some of these glorious noises, and what they do to the poor people that must listen to them all day and night...

a) Sirens: when you hear a siren you think death, somewhere in this city there is an old lady that is pinned under a beam with a hungry-looking cat and things aren't looking up. Then, of course, you lay awake thinking of death and destruction, war, all that, this is followed by some glorious nightmares and when you wake up in the morning you are a Republican. I think that a good way to combat all this worry would be to have different sirens for different situations; kitten-up-a-tree would sound very different than 5-alarm-fire-with-Lifetime-movie-to-be-made-soon. It would save everyone a lot of worry. The downside to this is that people, not me, upon recognizing different alarm bells, may take it upon themselves to be the evolutionary soldier we all wish was out there and not get out of the way. Some kittens need to learn lessons... the hard way.

b) Car Alarms: while car alarms are frequent, people that will go attend to them seem few and far between. We all know that our car has an alarm, we just don't know what it sounds like, thus defeating the purpose. I think, in my infinite wisdom, that car alarms should be like a ring tone, you can program some angry rapper into the car and when you hear Eminem's angry voice going on and on about his wife you know that someone is after your car. Additionally, if a person has 'Bubbly Toes' by Jack Johnson as his alarm...rob him, life is about learning bust his car up.

c) Crazy Ramblings: in a city known for its atheism we still have many who feel that a certain someone is coming back and he is not a happy camper. The only way to really avoid this is with a noise-canceling pillow which they have yet to invent, and as a footnote they should make it fireproof so that it can easily fit in your carry-on on your way to hell.

And so i believe, my fabulous follower, that with these small minor adjustments, the city in which i reside would be a less stressful symphony of sounds; bottom line, upgrade. I have not, however, found a solution to my rapping neighbors, besides a uncomfortable murder-suicide so stay tuned.

Owling Birthday

Last weekend was my birthday dinner. As I journeyed home, i suppose i should have known the night would be weird seeing as on my way home there was a clearence sale at the gun store; nonetheless i carried on. My house is a cross between a murderer's paradise and a place that would be perfect for growing weed. The point is it's in the middle of nowhere and if things didn't go well and my parents got me more airplane booze no one could hear them scream as i quietly beat them with small bottles. The evening started off normal enough-my parents have become mildly obsessed with happy hour (and, oddly enough, biscotti) and so we had libations and cheese. We talked of this and that, despite the fact that i was in close-to-paralyzing fear about what was wrapped in cartoon paper sitting in the living room.

For some reason my mother thought it wise to drink to my 22 years as well as my father's new change as he slipped out of the working class and into a life of leisure (and if he has his way, gleefully making weather vanes for all those who need to know where the wind blows). The house was filled with things from his office cubical: a 900-pound coat rack he black smithed, and signs from homeless people that he decided he should collect. It occured to me that my father's cubical could have been on hoarders, and i was happy if i could get out of the house without inheriting any of his bum sign collection.

Anyway somehow we got on the subject of owl calls, yes that was not a typo, there may have been some wine from my father ex-colege. My mother, an avid bird observer, swore that the way to remember a great horned owl was from its distinctive call "who cooks for you you you". My father, whose commuting partner was a professional owl caller, told him a different story.

And so my birthday dinner was spent with my father hooting over and over and my mother on the verge of divorce. My sister, the diplomat that she is, googled the owl call and we found that my father's very convincing owl call was indeed the correct one.

Not only was this issue put to bed but i realized that my mother had been lying to me all these years and when we had hunted for an owl that only seem to appear in our chicken coop for a good nibble, we were hunting in vain. In the end i received pillow cases, no booze, travel-size or otherwise, and somehow that 6,000 pound coat rack is in my car. I did learn some lessons, my loveable literary, and that is that one should always ask for things for one's birthday, that alcohol and bird calls do not mix, and that i wish i made this up.

Birthday Blunders

Today is my 22 birthday (i know, so much humor and intelligence in one so young and beautiful). I realize that after the big 2-1 there is very little to look forward to in the coming years besides a crisis or two and social security, and let's face we have good anti-psychotics and social security is a dream we will never realize, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, the point is, there's not a lot going on. I have learned, however, that there a few things that start to happen on and around one's birthday once they begin to enter their third decade. That being said, i will now share with you some insights into my date-of-birth dilemmas...

1. Date: now that i have left the nest my birthday falls on a time when normally, in my nomadic existence, i have moved. This leads to me asking for strange and useful things for my birthday such as light bulbs and extension cords. While this gift is well received in the moment, it doesn't leave you with much.

2. Presents: for some reason as you get older it becomes harder and harder to find items that you need or want. This is not to say that they do not exist, but on the month that is your birthday somehow everything leaves your head and you become almost un-American in your lack of desire for material goods. That being said, it is time to tell you a tale of the past about this strange phenomenon and how my parents chose to deal with it with regards to their eldest daughter.

For my 21st birthday i could not come up with things for my parents to get me. This is not a new occurrence for me, but nonetheless my parents chose to deal with it in a unconventional manner. A few days before we celebrated my glorious birth my parents had cleaned out the pantry. I, however, was unaware of this fact and was delighted to see 20 or so presents waiting for me. As i proceeded to open each small individual present i was more and more surprised by its content. I had managed to acquire 10 bottles of airplane/minibar-sized alcoholic beverages that appeared to have survived Prohibition. In addition, i also received a onion-shaped bottle opener that may or may not have been a gift at my parents' wedding, and last but certainly not least, a jug of wine. Not only was this jug of wine in a jug that is no longer manufactured, it was also from when my father was in college. This jug had seen both Bushes as president, it also had content that could be used to removed battery acid.

To conclude, i haven't ask for anything again this year and i fear the result, stay tuned.

Regretfully Remiss

As you may have noticed, i have been neglect in my duties to bring you my important thoughts. I apologize to the ten people that it affected and thought that i would give you an update as to what is happening in my life at the moment:

1. Moving - i have now officially moved to the big city. There have been many amendments to the country-bumkin-hillbilly lifestyle from which i was raised and so far there has not been anything too awkward

2. Neighbors - i was so happy to learn that the people that live below me are aspiring rappers. Every night i have the privilege, no let's say the pleasure, of listening to them warble on about whatever middle class white people discuss in the form of rap, ice ice baby?

3. Movies - this is a twofold experience. First, i went to see the Help, and all i wanted before my dose of period racism was some good previews. However, after the 5 minutes of previews i was overwhelmed with the urge to be anything other than human so that i would not be lumped in with the moderately brain dead people that are going to watch these movies. And so i pose this question to the world: how many movies does one need about a very special horse, or people beating the crap out of each other? We have Black Beauty, Secretariat and Mr Ed (even though they have yet to see the feature-length possibilities therein) so check on the equine movies. Then there is some strange need to watch aging actors sweat, overcome difficulty and pummel each other multiple times over a number of decades. that seems a bit much, even if the new twist is brother vs brother, just go into any self-respecting American family with a bunch of kids and you can see this very movie, maybe a light version as they won’t be big men yet, but nonetheless it is the same plot. 

Then, as if i wasn't punished enough, i found myself at the movies yet again watching the uplifting and comical Contagion. Before i begin, let me just say that everything is probably a moot point because very soon we will all die. Also STOP TOUCHING EVERYTHING. And since it is flu season you are going to thank me for this gentle reminder… By the time i went to see this movie my apartment was all furnished so all i had to do was stop and get 100 cans of soup, and all the antibacterial hand wash there was in the store,  and i'm in for the decade.

And so, my valiant viewer, i apologize and will now be giving you a more frequent does of epic sarcasm.

Lessons From Embezzlement to Stewed Turtle

My time in this sticky paradise is coming to a close, and in light of learning something from this experience I shall reflect on my time here in the land of riches and embezzlement...

A) From rich people: the key to really reveling in one's richness is multidimensional. First, living in a place with no taxes allows you to blow your cash on things that really matter and therefore help you look and truly seem Trump-like. For starters gates; every rich person needs them. It allows one to pretend like you are entering your own country and thus makes you feel every important. Fountains are next. It doesn't matter what the fountain is, they scream "money" even if they also subtly yell "pornographic". Lastly, location. You can't be rich unless you live in a place that has a name that can be mistaken for some sort of a landmark. Vistas, hills, and lakes allow a community to feel that they have some sort of claim to geographical fame. When I'm older I will own and live in a gated community called Vista Hills Lake. Cha ching.

B) My humor is not international: this was a sad revelation due in part to the fact that I wanted to purchase my Vista Hills Lake property from my comical practices. No, my valuable viewer, sarcasm is not universal. They say that smiling is, but I don't believe it. Propaganda from Botox companies.

C) I am morally opposed to eating sea turtle: You never know how you will react to something until it is put in front of you with a stewed fin protruding from the bowl.

D) I have morals: who knew?

So I suppose you could say that in this soul-searching mission I have learned something about myself. Sadly, I also lost part of my soul by trying to be chipper 9 hours a day with children. I am happy to be coming back stateside, but part of me fears that I have lost my comical touch...

International Stupidity

My schedule on this overgrown rock is a strenuous one. Between avoiding chickens, harassing iguanas, and beating creepy Jamaicans off with sticks, I barely have a moment to myself. However, there are a few precious minutes to look around. My view of white sand beaches and palm trees is generally obstructed by one thing: stupid people. So recently I said to myself (because I'm always alone): people are not the brightest of creatures. As soon as this earth-shaking morsel of knowledge took root in my brain, I started noticing the epic dumb dumb-ities that seem to be international. So what did I do? Why, I accumulated my research to share with you, my literary lovebugs. This is groundbreaking, so pay attention.

Things that make people look dumb no matter what nationality:

1) Doors-despite the fact that "push" and "pull", in both action and the written word, were taught to all in the "see-spot-run" first grade sector of our education, it still seems to stump people over and over again. Some people, upon bring truly stumped by this brain-hand coordination, even give up all together. Sadly, with automatic doors these people can still get sustenance instead of starving and thus finishing the last link in the evolutionary chain.

2) Straws-this is another coordination issue. See straw, conquer straw. When people get too cocky and attempt to master the straw without proper eye contact, one then looks like a fish dying out of water. Sad sight.

3) Stupid Checks-I'm not sure anyone thinks that their money will be taken seriously when someone writes a check with kittens in a basket or Beanie Babies. You might as well pay with monopoly money. Although checks that look like monopoly money would be clever and ironic. I'm marketing that.

4) Taking pictures of your food-I have yet to understand this. We're all glad you aren't a Olsen twin, but eating is nothing new. Unless your server has sculpted a replica of the Statue of Liberty out of your calamari, I don't care.

And so since I have no one here to warn in my solitude, I warn you, my blushing bookworm.

Storybook Upgrade

I am happy to report that children in this day and age still read books. This means that on any given day me and my perfect moral compass are accosted by stories teaching every type of moral and values of this-and-that. You know, listen to your parents, be nice, blah blah blah... Who uses these lessons? Anyway, since i am fully grown and have no need for these lessons any longer, and in an effort to read between the very few lines in these books, I thought that maybe i could dig deeper and still learn something from these tales. Because i have a lot of time on my hands and because i read the same books over and over, i have come up with some more PG-13/R advice from some of our favorites.

1. Cinderella: all-weather footwear is important - We've all been there, you're at a gathering, there are libations, and some dude dances with you all night. More often then not, my friends, this fella is not a looker and feels that the unabomber was misunderstood. If you gotta get away, you cannot risk having a shoe fall off. There is some nasty stuff on the ground.

-- Side note; does it bother anyone else that one wardrobe change makes her unrecognizable to Cindy's family? No mention of plastic surgery, braces, botox etc but maybe this is where we must read between the lines… or this further shows that mead is more potent than first believed, dress accordingly.

2. Little Red Riding Hood: visit your family often - i don't mean to harp on this, but again there should be no confusion between one's grandmother and a canine, even if you have been on a 12-day Twilight bender, and your grandmother, who has been sprouting some bad-ass hairs on her chinny-chin-chin (oops a mixed fairy tale metaphor…), is your one and only best friend...That conversation should never happen, awkward.

3. Goldilocks and the Three Bears: observe your surroundings - if you want to crash on your friends couch cool, but look around, make sure you recognize the beer bottles on the floor, the skanky couch...something. If the walls seem a bit rockier and there is a wolverine carcass in the corner, maybe you should look closer and think harder about losing consciousness. Furthermore, if your only/best quality and thus your nickname comes from your hair, you need a personality transplant stat. I wonder if this was the first draft of one of those not-so-funny blond jokes.

4. Humpty Dumpty: stay away from walls when under the influence - i refuse to believe that Humpty just wanted to look at the grass on the other side. Something made him get up on the wall and fall of and i think it was something we call Guiness and a dare; such a fragile being would NOT on his own just jump up and teeter on a wall with the possibility of falling to his infinite fragmentation... I do give him props for being important enough that a monarchy would send all of the known horses and men, he obviously has friends in high places. I don't want to get political, but they never asked a well trained lady... Humpty could be in every middle school across the country preaching "hugs not drugs". Stay grounded.

So take heart, we are always learning.

Bob, Not Now.

Now that i have been on this magnificent island for over a month i have seen the dark side to this Caribbean that so many washed-up celebrities are in love with...

1. Chickens - you know how i feel about fowl... everywhere one turns there is some sort of rooster frolicking about in a bush, looking mildly picturesque, provoking me. they walk around like they own the place giving you that creepy sideways glance from their beady black eyes, making you think they could turn on you at any moment. One minute acting like some urban folks sweet backyard farm fantasy, the next minute they are running at ya, squawking for blood!

2. Reggae - let me put it this way, Jamaica is to the Caymans as Russia is to Sarah Palin's house... quite close but despite rumors, one cannot see it. Anyway, this means that everywhere one goes there is Bob Marley blaring at me in his happy Caribbean sing-song way. Here is my beef: Bob, i don't have a joint, this means that at times i am a bit bitter, and I am pretty sure your music would sound more inspired if indeed I had a bit of reefer to call my own… at times I feel your jovial attitude is NOT helping...

3. Trees - generally speaking there is just more stuff here that can be found in trees: lizards, geckos, iguanas, birds of all sorts... I am not used to things dripping, falling, or slithering from trees (unless you count acorns and then I guess I am used to them plopping down onto the soggy wet Oregon earth), and this can startle and disorient you... did I somehow end up on Pandora? Why is this bird electric blue and red? The lizard bright green? Where am I? This would be more of a problem if I was in anyway altered in my reality and sadly I am not (see point #2)… this means that there are more things that can give you more than one surprise and this freaks me out...

4. Roadkill - I've learned that one can tell a lot about a region/country’s priorities when one walks a bit down a road... Now part of the time i am trying to avoid being roadkill myself -other side of the road driving and all, go British colony- but the other flattened and deceased things that can be found there are biologically interesting (there must be a scientific study where one does nothing but try and understand a clutter by the road, what they choose to scoop up and eat, and what they choose to leave ect.., too bad my career choices have been decided or else I would ponder traipsing about the world looking down…). The top few; crabs (always freaked me out), green iguanas (they aren't native and quite a bother, so everyone guns the engines, swerves, and endangers their children, all just to squash a despised green iguana), and chickens (don't need to tell you that one again). Anyway, all i'm saying is wise up, except the crabs... i don't even know why they are around the roads...

Childish Contradictions

This summer i am participating in the rearing of children. Through this i have learned that many things have changed since my youth (I haven’t yet got to the point where I have uttered  the dreaded, “when I was your age…”  but OH so close) and that children are walking contradictions. I have compiled some of these confusing qualities and i would like to share them with you;

A) Past and present - on one hand they are listening to NSYNC a band who's name has not been uttered in about a decade, however as they are listening to said boy band they can also practically make an unmanned drone out of their wii.

B) Memory – VERY selective, they can love one thing, say Star Wars, then the next day they don't even know where stars are located. Don't bother trying to remind them of their fondness of the force because they now believe that all the Star Wars paraphernalia that some how made it into every aspect of their lives and personal possessions came from aliens.

C) Attention to details - while I can get away with skipping 5 pages in the tale of Dora the Explorer Meets Mighty Mouse in Mongolia they know exactly how many crackers, and we are talking fish crackers here, usually too numerous to count… I gave to all those in the room versus how many I gave to them. Give me a break

D) Independence - on one hand they claim that they do not know how to feed themselves, therefore, they would like for you to chew up and regurgitate their food for them or delicately place peeled grapes into their gaping/peeping mouths while singing the theme song from looney tunes. However, in the next hour they feel that they are completely and totally prepared to make pasta with flambeed mushrooms over a bed of fresh greens.

And so as you can see the rearing raising and wrangling of children is not an easy task.  It will make the sanest of us crazy and I never professed to be in that group…  I will be relieved when the summer is over.

Tips for Survival

I'm spending the week in Miami, Florida. It is a place of humidity, Cubans, the crocodiles. This has given me time to kick back, have a snort or two of cocaine laced with coffee (a real pick-me-up) and reflect on what i have learned about survival down here in these semi-tropical parts. Additionally, it is Shark Week on the Discovery Channel, so all around me i see that people are not the smartest of creatures. However, we must learn from each other, lord knows a squirrel is not the teacher for the way to a long and happy life. I have learned that people all around you help you survive. What you pick up on the streets allows you to prolong your existence, or at least die in a sensible manner and not some strange tragic way that will inspire a low budget SyFy movie.

In light of sparing all my 10 valued followers, along with my other more secretive readers, i will share with you the ones who have allowed me to live all these marvelous years.

1. From Steve Erwin, stingrays sting - you would think that the name would warn one against harassing this animal, but i think it all really hit home when we all lost the betting pool and our buddy Steve died from a ray rather than in the belly of a croc. I never really thought that i would use this life lesson until i came here and learned that there is actually a location called Stingray City. I hope the Crocodile Hunter is on Netflix.

2. From the Cayman people, don't wear anything flashy - if you do when in the water, a baraacuda will attack. They have that sort of ostrich tendency apparently. If it can happen to Nemo's mom, it can happen to anyone; swim with caution.

3. From Sarah McLachlan, run - when you are anywhere and you hear "the arms of an angel", take off, there is about to be some really sad dogs with one eye and no home that will accost you with guilt. Soon you will hear about a three-legged dog ironically named Quatro in need of a home...you don't have the arms of an angel, but you can still fly away from here (that is only relevant if you have heard that song 908 times).

4. From the fine people at the Miami Airport - humor is not needed or appreciated when doing a selected bag search through customs. There is no such thing as sarcasm until you are out those double doors

5. From shark week - DON'T GET IN THE WATER

And so my valued visitors, i hope that you take with you some important lessons on life and the survival that will help you every day and on at least 126 bad reality TV shows.

Misunderstood Mongruls

Summers are a time for the world to be saved by 2-6.5 super heroes flying, walking, and possibly skipping into a theater near you. This summer is no exception. Now you may think that i am about to wow you with some in depth theories into the minds and bodies of these great American heroes, but that would be as interesting as exploring an empty paper bag, therefore i would like to dive into the complexities of the super villain, you would be surprised what sort of glorious factoids i have discovered through a great amount of research.

a) All things that glow - i don't know what it is but super villains, more often than not, are always trying to get and keep something that glows, think about it; in Green Lantern it was glowing yellow fear, in Captain America it was some blue glowing cube, and of course kryptonite glows green. Its like all these people were not allowed the many glow in the dark doo-dads of childhood, the beads, the markers and best of all the eerie glowing stars on the ceiling…

b) Slight deformity - the bad guy from Captain America looked like a sunburnt Michael Jackson, i will have nightmares for a week, anyway, these issues serve as a kind reminder to young boys and girls that if one plays with acid, toxic waste, and on or around sharp rocks, your high school will not be pleasant and, as such your anger will fuel your choices

c) Cool toys - you have to admit it the bad kids always have way better toys, some car that can also turn into a flying ice cream cone, shoes that transform into underwater submarines, and underwear that can be folded into throwing stars. If it takes some loose morals to achieve this i think it's worth looking into.

d) Bigger posse - i mean, let’s be honest, the hero usually has one same sex friend whose roll is to bolster up the hero and keep him/her/it on the straight and narrow, or on the  wide and zig-zag depending on how things play out… then the bad guy has a whole army of buddies, examples you ask? Batman - BFF Robin (we've all heard the rumors), the Joker - 20 guys in weird masks breaking into banks, not only does he have himself a bunch of lunatic followers BUT he also has a bit of bank dollas for his next caper…  if that's not love what is? Captain America - has one man friend in the army, crazy Natzi dude - whole army shooting for him. If we learned one thing from JLo (a hero to many, a villain to those who have ears and the ability to watch a movie), a posse is an important status symbol, so what if they only fear your wrath, i know plenty of friendships that are based on a lot less. 

And so i say that maybe we are judging these out of the box thinkers a little to harshly, maybe we should just have a corporate villain retreat to the planet of Pandora, that whole planet is in constant rave mode, everything glows... if that doesn't work the presence of grief councilors would prevent almost all of these movies. And that was about 28 pop culture references, try and keep up.

A Non-Violent Discovery

While i have been roaming about, something has come to my attention. Before i begin this perplexing tale, i will say that the Cayman Islands (the overgrown rock on which i currently reside) is a British colony. Now, of course they could throw some tea into the water and get rowdy in hopes of independence, but from what i can tell they are still very much Team William and Kate and so are perfectly happy remaining as such.

Anyway, for the most part going from US customs to a UK version is mostly a simple hop, skip, and a jump (quite literally-i can almost spit on some old people in Florida from here). However, there is one concept, a theory really, that the Brits go by that i am having a hard time wrapping my head around.

It all began one warm, Caribbean morning when i went to a shopping center, nothing out of the ordinary besides an unbalanced amount of root vegetables (Jamaicans like their starch, anyway...), but at all of these stores are security guards. Now, these upstanding security professionals look like they will take you down if you choose to rob the place except for one very foreign thing: they have no weapons.

Coming from gun slingin' America, i'm shocked and a little confused. How, pray tell, is one supposed to solve any sort of scuffle or kerfuffle without some sort of weaponry? After all, as young ones we learned that being armed is the first thing you need when solving a problem. Elmer Fudd never tried to talk it out with Buggs or Daffy, it was some sort of duck/wabbit season, he just shot. Wile E. Coyote doesn't even speak because of his rather large and mysteriously acquired arsenal of problem-solving tools.

This discovery leads me to believe that one really has to be a "people person" to work in such a high-stress, dangerous, law-enforcing job here or in the UK. I have to say i am still trying to wrap my mind around this concept... but you'll be happy to know i am doing my part to understand this strange new culture in which i find myself. I am going to watch a documentary on Gandhi and view a season or 3 of Law and Order: UK. Fear not, i will learn these new customs and grow. Learn something new every day.

The Downs of Solo Missions

Of all of my adventures this one has been my first true long-lasting solo mission. Because of this, i have had many moments to ponder, unobstructed by pesky things such as normal stimulating conversation and companionship. Anyway, as i explore the recesses of my wonderful and cynical mind i have also learned a few things about traveling without a companion, pet, or even beloved stuffed animal. I will now share them with you because i am alone, as i mention subtly, and i can't speak to these issues with anyone other then my pillow and the box of pop tarts i bought and put in my suitcase for safekeeping...

1. Eating alone - this i have yet to truly master. My eye wanders because there is no one accross from me and i always make eye contact with people close by one to many times therefore they get paranoid and think i'm listening to their conversations. Of course, i am, because i'm alone... people need to get more interesting and spill juicy secrets over lunch...

2. Picture taking - when alone this becomes an Olympic event... you line up your shot then hit the button and sprint to your location. This means that you walk away the winner of breathtaking pictures of yourself sweaty and slightly off center (both mentally and physically). Additionally, you have all those annoying profile pictures with you holding the camera out and taking a picture... despite the fact that you are alone and that was the only option, it still comes across as being vain and self-centered.

3. Death - if for some reason i am snorkeling and get eaten by a barracuda and/or stung by a lionfish... no one will see and come to my rescue... this means that i will sink to the bottom of the ocean reflecting on my lack of friends and in paralyzing fear as to who will play me in the lifetime movie made about this untimely death entitled 'Alone in Solitude'.

4. Comments - when i am an island (ironically on an island) i must keep my cruel judgments of other people to myself, that's how Miss Manners would want it, but not i.

Even with these perils of solo stardom i must go on. Eventually i will master them all... i'm fully prepared to punch a lionfish in the face. Stay tuned.

Cartoon Consistency

Recently my summer has mostly consisted of looking after and caring for children. Through this apparent career path i seem to be on, i have learned a few things about how times have changed since my days of being a wide-eyed youngster... the biggest one is television. I have managed to take most of these changes in stride, after all, in my day i spent many a day walking uphill, in the snow, without shoes to get to a TV. However, i do have one grievance... i mean let’s be honest it wouldn't be me if i didn't... and it has to do with a wardrobe consistency that seems to be forever lacking in the world of cartoon characters.

Let me set the scene... you are watching a charming tale of woodland creatures learning a thing or two about the delights of friendship... all is going well, but wait one furry fella is wearing a shirt, implying there is a need for covering what is under said shirt, no judgments, just saying how it is, and look over there next to a poorly drawn stump i see a similar creature only wearing man capris (a.k.a. manpris), once again implying that there is a need to hide whatever is under and between said bottoms. Then adorable animal number three comes out of a thicket he/she is not wearing a stitch of clothing... Exhibitionist? Nudist? Not sure, the huge inconsistency makes me feel as though a great violation is being forced upon me.   Now if they were all in the birthday suit a la Bambi, then fine, they are how God created them with no embellishments from Walt, but when this mix-n-match fashion starts happening, I don’t know where to look…  Should I advert my eyes, or should I stare into the furry depths hoping for a glimpse of chipmunk naughty bits ?

I don't mean to rain on the t-shirt of the few consistency clothed woodland friends and make you cringe every time a rabbit bursts out of the brush and shows you the stick and berries that God, or our friend Walt, gave to them. It’s been bothering me for quite a while.

I Will Survive the Hurricane

For those of you who don't know, I have been and will be kicking it in the Caribbean for the summer. A tidbit for those whole have not been here at this time of year: it is hurricane season. This means that every afternoon we are treated to the wonderful rhythmic sounds of wind and rain, and I lay awake wondering if I have an evacuation plan. So, in light of not giving you those bothersome traveling blog posts, I will now share my the top 3 things that go through my head as the wind and rain pelts against my shelter and nerves.

1. If people get to Oz with simple wind, imagine where I could go with wind AND rain... I wouldn't survive, for starters I don't do well with people that don't reach my elbow - it makes me think I am going to step on them. Also, I doubt that anyone would have any shoes I could borrow, as I have a very specific size. Furthermore, following a cobbled street to my "final destination" to get "home" just seems like a metaphor for death which would make me very concerned during my whole journey... I'm just not cut out for it...

2. I don't have the facts on this, but I would like to think that high winds coupled with pelting rain really gives our feathered friends a hard time, and there are a lot of miniature chickens here. Being both small things and fowl makes them doubly irritating to me... I partly hope that they get washed away out to sea... And this comforts me.

3. Have all those swim meets and being a resident of Oregon prepared me for this exact natural disaster? I may be the only survivor.

And so here I wait for my destiny, until next time.

Are You a Redneck?

Recently i have been clocking in some major air time, traveling here and there and have realized that there is something that only we, in this great country can lay claim to... rednecks. Now, my beneficent bookworm, you may wonder what constitues this rare breed found in the back woods of this, our US of A... Well i, the all-knowing, will give you a good idea of some indicators that you may in fact have some redneckish tendencies...

1) Misspelled tattoos. You thought America had an "h", the tattoo guy swore it had a "q", he was convincing, and here we are in good old Amerqa.

2) Look up...there should be no dead eyes staring back at you. If there are eyes staring at you from the heads of creatures that once taught you a valuable childhood lesson in a Disney film, you might be a bit hillbilly

3) If you haven't met a creature you wouldn't eat, we may have a problem. A sentence should never start, "the other day when i was eating a possum steak... "

4) Subtitles. "Swamp people" is impossible to understand. They appear to be speaking English, but no one can tell. i would call them country bumpkins for sure. ironically they kind of make me miss home...

So to all those who apply to the above, i apologize, both to you and to your cousin/spouse...

Graduation!

By now all that were suppose to graduate have, and I am proud to say that somehow i have made through a few to 4 years of college. In my mind i always wanted my educational career to take a Rip Van Winkle/coma approach (get in, take a nap then be done...). i'm happy to report that, thanks to libation, some of that did become a happy reality. However, college did manage to stuff some life skills and educational tidbits into my seemingly perfectly intelligent brain.

There are the everyday techniques that only come with living with people under the age of 25 with a lot of free time:

The Twilight Bark - yes this is from 101 Dalamataions, but it is also from all those nights when you were separated from your possy and happen to be mildly to heavily inebriated. As you wander looking for your herd, you let out a drunken wail of distress. This sets off the twilight bark in which others yell, call, and yes, sometimes even bark in response, thus enabling you to stumble your way back to your pack... it's survival.

The traits of a homeless person - after some time away at college you come home and act like what can only be described as a hobo. its not your fault: you ran out of soap, clean clothes, and food all within about 3 days. this means that you tend to have developed a smell by the time you come home. Your parents, horrified, try to make you some sort of dinner, but you can't remember the last time you ate off of a real plate. It's a sad byproduct of education.

Standards go waaaay down - after a while everything is seen through an -ish way. That plate is clean-ish, you're drunk-ish, the meat sitting on the counter is fresh-ish, after a few drinks the kid with the unibrow is cute-ish, that person in the corner is dead -ish... whatever.

Then, of course, there is the knowledge that the lovely educators tried to force into our lives and that, i suppose was the purpose of me being here...

The world is going to hell, not much you can do. Blame your parents. i would start drinking now, your life is only going downhill...

Go forth and prosper, although i doubt you will.

So thank you college, i now have less money and feel like i'm not even a little ready to take on the real world, unless it's on MTV...

What's Up Arizona

For those of you who have not been informed i am in the great state of Arizona celebrating my roots... Being as i have been in this dusty paradise and have played a great game of Sneak N' Fence with the neighborhood kids, in which one has to sneak through increasingly smaller holes in a fence. if you get caught you go to jail. Anyways i have been in this sun-soaked area for about 9 hours and feel that i can now make some huge generalizations about what goes on here:

a) Wow, it is hot.

That seems to be all there is in this fine state. Now i'm off to go play the game Fast Papers. the object is to retrieve papers showing you are a citizen, the slowest person goes to jail. Where do these crazy Arizonian kids come up with this?

Scholastic Achievement

The theme of this month is scholastic achievement. However, just because we have all been able to drag our hungover selves to a class everyday DOES NOT mean we are, in any way, ready or capable of true adulthood. Sadly, with these feats of accomplishment our sires feel the need to celebrate these milestones in a way that makes you wonder if they ever thought you would actually amount to anything. And of course chicken, because what is a celebration in this country without it?

And so i give you another commentary for the ceremonies that signal your greatness and a host of weird questions and what we are always thinking when we are asked them over and over again:

1. How did you get so old?
-- I built a time machine in my dorm, i really just went to college three days ago. i wish i had let you in on it, these 4 years have not been kind...

2. What's next?
-- For me, i think that i am going to do some heavy drinking and perfect my free-loading skills. i regret that i didn't have enough time to really dedicate to myself...

3. What was the most important thing you learned?
-- It's important to meet a lot of new friends, and get to know them... vaginally...
So congratulations, i hope someone asks you a creative question or two

Facing Fears

Being as I am about to be done with a large scholastically-shaped hurdle, I have been pondering my life. I don't know about you, but when I ponder I seem to be a hop skip and a jump away from thinking about things I fear, and therefore wish not to happen... my number one would be the jungle that is really life. Seeing as I have not been able to piece together that Scooby-Doo mystery or find my testicular fortitude to handle anything adult, I have chosen the more learning, which we all know I love and am so very good at. Anyways, back to my pondering. Seeing as I knocked out my number one fear I was left with the lesser runners-up, which are equally scary but I am less likely to happen upon them in the immediate future. In an attempt to be a better person and face these apprehensions, I will share them with you, my courteous correspondent...

1. Bugaboo - I looked up fears, and that was something people are apparently afraid of, it sounds like what you would call a baby, so I do fear it, on principal.

2. Citrus Pulp - wow you have personal problems... au contrare... imagine drowning in that soupy mess... it would sting like nobody's business, if you're laughing just know I'm not.

3. Naked Mole Rats - something is very wrong with them, plus I would like to choose if I want to see something naked, and in this case it is just WA-BAM here I am in a small dirt tunnel, not my idea of a good time

4. Stuffed Animals - always gave me nightmares, no matter what it was, I had a dark childhood.

5. Anything with Googly Eyes - despite what people have said, they are not comforting or cute

6. People with Abnormally long Fingernails - that's just not right, yeah I'm talking to you stereotypical hooker, crazy witch, dangerous monk, and gross pirate, lock that up

So I guess what you should take away from this is own your fears, and figure out what a bugaboo is...

You Know When...

Being as i am about a quarter the way through life, I think that I have learned a few things. One of these life lessons is that despite what people tell you about the roller coaster that is life, there are some things that precede others. Forgone conclusions if you will, it is these tried and true standbys that allow you to say no to the medication, and truly believe that not everything in this world is left to chance. That being said I would like to show you a few of these so that you can feel secure in knowing that they will always be things that you can rely on...

1. YOU KNOW WHEN you had a wild night IF the next morning you wake up as Lady Gaga - this could be the indicator of an awesome night, or you could wake up incubating in a giant egg. Take comfort knowing that all your body hair will grow back, and not everyone has a chance to wear a solar system. Either way something went down, and it was epic.

2.  YOU KNOW WHEN its time to graduate college IF you joined the committee to make beer pong an Olympic sport - when you spend too much time in ivy-covered hallowed halls, sometimes you forget what constitutes a normal activity. I know I know they let curling in why not beer pong, but you just have to trust me that eventually you will be in a place not sticky with vomit and beer, without red cups spilling out of every opening. It's called the real world. Come back to us. 

3. YOU KNOW WHEN someone is evil IF they don't have pupils - i've said it once I'll say it again, tried and true standby

4. YOU KNOW WHEN it's time to reevaluate your life IF you seriously relate to anyone that has a show on TLC - Do you have 35 kids? Too fat to function? Collecting every newspaper since 1964 in your one-bedroom apartment? These are things that do not spell success despite what Kate Gosselin says. Time to shower and find a hobby.

5. YOU KNOW WHEN people will be mean IF you're in Kinko's  - I don't know what it is but they are always mean! News flash, knowing how to photocopy does not make you better than me, and to all small token 60 year old people that are working at every Kinko's across America:  I will physically fight you so that you may kindly show me how to print my pictures on a machine that looks like it could transform and kill Shia LeBouf. If it could kill you also, that would also be nice.

And so as you can see life my be uncertain at times, but there are some things that will never fail to come to fruition. Take comfort that life isn't always that oh-so-confusing box of chocolates, some times with a higher IQ, one can read the map on the top of the box and avoid the cheery congeals that taste like death...

Observing Oregonians

I am a true Oregonian, and as such, I have realized that there are just some things I am not capable of understanding and/or doing. Of course there is the traditional: I don't use an umbrella, and really let the rain wash over me. Of course, there are many parts of education you don't get living home, home on the range. I gotta learn from the streets, and here are some things every Oregonian has puzzled over...

a) Driving - we are not into horns, or anger on the road, this may be going back to our times on the homestead in a covered wagon. You can't be passing people and speeding along with your 15 children and a bison. Bull? Boat? That's going to bother me, anyway, slow goin'.

b) Sales Tax - what's up? Its like being lied to repeatedly, and without any rhyme or reason. This twinkie is $1.20 but wait at the register its $3.48, or sometimes they just seem to tack on 28 dollars to my Cheez-Its, playing with fire. AND did you notice that after you come back from one of these shopping ripoffs you have 14 pounds of change? This is not the America I know. Stay strong Alaska, Delaware, Montana, and New Hampshire - I believe in you.

c) Gas - self-serve gas is a mystery, and for women usually there are a few coy giggles and you have yourself a gas attendant also known as a creepy old man in a late model sports car, but for boys there is a whole other issue and this is how is goes every time, don't doubt me.
              Traditionally pale male Oregonian walks up to this odd contraption that pumps gas, FOR SOME REASON, this gas pump becomes a extension of his manhood, the pump his man stick, the gas his underpants navy, and the car, well his lady love, which is ironic because most of the time they like the car better than the actual female that is sitting in said car wondering why this man is no longer appealing outside of his native state. This creates a battle that can go one of 2 ways; 1) he forces that gas pump into the gas tank too quickly and for some reason it seems to take way to many uncomfortable minutes for the tank to fill, he's loving it, the car is mildly satisfied but knows that there have been better gas attendants or 2) in a frenzy he puts it in and its over really quickly, leaving the car less than full. And that is how you go way too far with a metaphor.

d) Not playing Oregon Trail - only the best way to pass your elementary years, let me explain for those of you who DIDN'T HAVE A CHILDHOOD. This is a computer game in which you and your family of too many children with biblical names travel along the Oregon trail. The kicker is that mostly you die and never make it and it has nothing to do with you or how you play. This is the only game in which your small children can get taken away by hawks and never be seen or heard from again (sorry Abraham), and your wagon is ravaged by cholera, never have I been so wrapped up in the health of a quadruped either, you gotta make sure that your oxen? or water buffalo?, cow?, are ready to go. Stressful for an 8 year old, but life lessons learned. 

So if you are not from the wild west, rejoice! And if you are from this soggy state, just be thankful that you have been strong enough to mourn the loss of infants being lost to large birds of pray, it's made you stronger, and we don't have to pump our own gas, silver lining.

The Latest in Eyewear

Let me begin by saying spring is a confusing time. Basically, it is the time of the year in which Mother Nature seems to be on the rage: the mood swings, sun, hail, rain, clouds, hot, cold, you have to pack an overnight bag to go outside for 15 minutes. That being said, this does not give you the license to make bad choices. I'm talking about eye wear. There are a few things that aren't acceptable no matter what the weather is like:

1. Transition Lenses: You want to know what transition lenses were made for? For transitioning between the bright kitchen, where your mom is making you a sandwich, back to the basement, where you live, on your 36th birthday. Do you ever see someone wearing transition lenses and think playa? Negative, sunglasses regular glasses, this is not a hyphenate situation. CHOOSE.

2. Clear Glasses: This is new and I don't understand it. Wearing something that impedes you as a fashion statement is like being envious of people with club feet then limping along all day. If I see you participating in this trend, I will call you grand-pappy Amis and hope that my ridicule, disappointment, and influence will make you reconsider your renob life choice.

3. Sunglasses:  I don't know why this is hard, sunglasses are for sun. For some reason people have this great desire to forgo the harsh light that can be found inside. I blame Usher. While I love his 17-pack abs and super sweet dance moves, he's the one that has given mating in da club a theme song and therefore an appropriate practice, and yet I can't remember the last time I saw his eyes. Furthermore, let's leave it at this, if you are cool and influential enough to not get arrested for full on makin' love in the club then you may wear sunglasses whenever and wherever you choose. However, that song is 4 minutes and 19 seconds, and no one except Usher, and possibly Justin Bieber has a handle on that sort of accelerated action, it's a vicious cycle.

And so I say to you, my kind and loyal viewer, follow the rules. Or else.