Maybe Running Isn't Terrible and Deadly All Over.

Me before yesterday: “Man, screw running. Running is stupid. I am an ADULT. There is no reason for me to be running anywhere. If someone were chasing me, I’d turn around and be like ‘WTF, dude? Why are you chasing me? I’m broke. What is happening here?’ And that would be the end of it. I’d have run maybe 3 steps before I was winded and turned to confront him. ‘Cause, you know, I don’t back down from a confrontation!”

So, a few years ago, I decided I wanted to get into better shape. My family has a history of heart disease and diabetes and yada, yada. I know all you hear is a girl whining “I’m so faaaaat, I need to be skinny! Look at my BUTT! Wahhh.” In this case, ehhh…I AM a girl, and I’m a bit overweight, but that’s where the similarity ends. I’m happy with myself. I also want to be healthy and live for a long time. And in order to help do that, I recently quit my decade-long, enjoyable smoking habit, I switched to liquor from beer, and I’m trying to vary my work outs. My mother works out. If my almost 62-year-old mom in Florida can decide to get healthy, so can I!

So, when I started working out a few years back, just using the elliptical machine and occasionally swimming laps. Today, I still do the exact same exercise routine, and I have definitely plateau’ed on my hilly path to health. I go to the Y 4-5 times a week, and I have genuinely come to enjoy going to the gym. It’s the craziest thing, I used to make fun of people who liked working out, I thought it was ridiculous! It’s not. I do it after work every day, and it makes me feel good, gives me energy, and when I don’t go to the gym, Boyfriend can attest to the fact that I have too much excess energy and am bouncing off the walls.

I have trouble sticking to diets. It turns out that I have little to no self control, and somehow just got lucky that quitting smoking was easier than I thought it would be. I love bagels, and cookies and skittles, and dammit, macaroni and cheese and I are the very best of friends (sorry you had to find out this way, Emily!).

Anyway, back to the running thing. I’ve always hated it. The few times I have attempted jogging, when there were no gyms around (like on vacations), I have cursed it with every fiber of my being. “Running is terrible,” I said. “Running is terrible and painful and deadly all over. Nike should make that their new slogan,” said I. I happen to think that was hilarious. And if you don’t laugh at that, well…I accept your constitutional right to suck.

I like walking. Hell, I live in NYC, I haven’t much choice. My friend told me about this jogging program called “Couch to 5k.” It has an app, so I downloaded it to my phone, and it tells you exactly what to do and when to do it. It has a stopwatch and pulls up your music for you, too. It tells me “alls youse gotta do is run for one minute. ONE stinkin’ minute, then walk for a minute and a half. Alternate for 20 minutes, and you’re done.” (I don’t know why I decided to write that with an accent…) It sounded easy, so I figured, why not?

I put on my spandex pants (I am hella sexy at the gym), strap on a sports bra and my Seniors ’04 t shirt, and an ankle brace (whooole different story) and off I go to a treadmill.

If you’ve never run on a treadmill, let me just explain to you that a teeny tiny little bitty person in sneakers running on it sounds like they are Godzilla clomping through downtown. I sound like a herd of elephants. Luckily, my music was loud enough to cover the stomping sounds, or I would’ve been done in about 17 seconds.

And you know what? It wasn’t that bad. I found my pace, stared at the stopwatch for the one minute, and then stroll along all dandy for a bit. It really wasn’t that bad. Maybe running isn’t the sport of the devil. Or maybe it is. Maybe the devil just wanted to get into shape a little bit. Jeez! Leave the poor guy alone!

See? He's just running with a friend!

Yay! Sentimental Claptrap For the Holidays!

Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Joyous Kwanzaa, Have a Fun Winter Solstice, and Happy Festivus!

Ahhh, the holidays. I love them so. I’m a happy little Jew girl who loves Christmas carols and cookies. And presents. And let’s face it. ‘Tis the season of cookies, singing, and gifts.

So, I didn’t have a Christmas tree growing up. Because of that, I was slightly fascinated by them. By the time I got to college, my fascination and want of a tree (a “Hanukkah bush” wasn’t deemed acceptable at home, though I think we ALL would have enjoyed that) had faded. I thought they were pretty, but I never gave them much thought.

Until one day, my roommates and I decided to decorate for the holidays! We got a big ol’ tree, and ornaments and tinsel. OH THE TINSEL! There was so much of it! We made stockings, we decorated everything, and I got to put the star on top! It was a very fun bonding experience, and I still think back on that and laugh at the huge mess of tinsel we had for WEEKS afterward.

And now, as I’m older, I still think trees are pretty, but I’ve come to appreciate the Hanukkah traditions more, too. Especially since moving out on my own. When I was a kid, each of us the family had our own Menorah, and we’d light the candles together in the kitchen and all sing the prayers. It was like a small bonfire! But it was a moment of togetherness, followed immediately by the opening of the presents.

There are 8 nights of Hanukkah, and YES, we had something to open every night. We usually got one big thing each that we’d asked for, and then a bunch of smaller stuff. We always had gelt (gold-wrapped chocolate shaped like coins), we always had traditional latkes, which are a huge pain in the ass to make, but are delicious, and I will go TO MY GRAVE swearing that no one makes them like my mom.

We even played dreidel, using pennies or M&Ms as the money. I never believed in Santa, and neither did my brothers. We were taught not to blab that around school, though. I wouldn't want to ruin anyone's beliefs, but even as a small child, we just didn't have that.

Living on my own has taught me that I am too lazy to do the traditional stuff just for me. I still love buying gifts for my family and friends, and they all know that I can’t help but give it to them early, or blab about what it is, because I get overexcited about giving it to them. But, ehh…I don’t decorate or anything by myself. And I miss it.

So, tomorrow is Christmas eve, and I’ll be celebrating with Boyfriend’s family, followed by going to DC to celebrate the rest of Hanukkah with my family. And yes, we’ll each light our Menorahs, and sing the prayers together, and eat gelt, and teach the kids dreidel. Can’t wait!

…and remember, no matter what you believe, no matter how old you are, an empty wrapping paper tube will always be a lightsaber!

Go Gators! My menorah bleeds orange and blue!!

I Am Not Dick's Best Friend.

If your name is Dick, I probably won’t be your friend. Not because I don’t like you, you’re likely delightful. You just won’t like me. I’ll giggle like a schoolgirl whenever I say your name. And here’s why: first of all, how the hell do people make the jump from “Richard” to “Dick”?? And secondly, as you probably got teased in school, why didn’t you nip that nickname in the bud when you were a kid? I’ll never understand why you didn’t say, “Hey, man, don’t call me that. Let’s go with “Rich” or something. Also,  I have the maturity of a 10 year old boy, so it makes me laugh. To be fair, I would laugh equally as hard if your nickname was “Fart” or “Your Mom,” too.

Sometimes you have no choice, like if it is your last name, or if your parents were too lazy or short sighted to name you something non-stupid. Here is an example: I knew a William Williamson and a Danielle Daniels when I was in school.

This is 100% real: my mom’s friend (both my mom and her friend are teachers) worked at a school and in one grade, had 11 different girl students named Female. Pronounced “Feh-mall-ee.” In high school, my best friend’s mom was a doctor, and she had 2 patients that were identical twins that were actually named Lemonjello and Orangejello. YYYYeah.

But, I love these names SO MUCH. How could you not? They’re hilariously, painfully awful. I just feel bad for those kids. They didn’t pick the names, they are just stuck with them until age 18.

There is the other side of the coin. Perfectly normal names that your classmates and friends twist into cruel, horrifically funny nicknames and pronunciations. Been there, heard that. There is absolutely nothing that anyone could do to my name that high school kids and restaurant coworkers haven’t already done in a perverted, sometimes funny, way.

And no, I am NOT telling.

But back to you. Is your name Dick? Jello? Pilot Inspecktor?

I fully understand wanting to name your kid something new and interesting, and one that isn’t the most popular name for last 15 years. But Pilot Inspektor? That’s just mean! AND you spelled it wrong!

I generally like interesting names. Heck, my name is “Jyssica.” And I LOVE IT. It is just different enough to be interesting, without going into the realm of crazy. Someday, I’ll have a kid and I'll probably name it. And it will be in school surrounded by a bunch of “Denim,” “Apple,” and “FlingIronLoveMonkey” kids. Well, that last one isn’t so bad.

I was dreaming that I was a standup comedian, and then woke up funny.

[Little bit o' backstory: I really was having this dream that I was a stand up comic. I watch a LOT of stand up, in case you were wondering. Which you should have been. What kind of weirdo just randomly dreams of being a comedian? A funny chick, that's who! ANYWAY, I woke up and had the following rant stuck in my head. I wrote it down, refined it a bit, took out a couple of nonsequitors, and here we have it.

In my head, the whole rant is a riff on these specific blame-happy weirdos people:

Those who claim that video games teach violence, blur the lines between fantasy and reality, and desensitize their kids to violence in real life. If you think it’s the games fault for you not teaching your kids that violence isn’t always the answer, and the difference between fantasy and reality, then you must be SUPER PISSED at board games, too.]

READ THIS IN THE STYLE OF DANIEL TOSH WHISPERING IT TO YOU (in a slightly creepy manner). May be odd, but that's how I imagined it:

What is Monopoly teaching kids? That it is OK to walk through something once, buy it with no inspection, no negotiation, and then start building shit. No permits, screw structural integrity, and who needs a contractor or 7?

First off, your kids should be thinking about the environment, not just slapping hotels and houses wherever they want. Secondly, your kids think they are so damn entitled! Just buying shit up, probably using credit, screw up their--haha, YOUR--credit score, living in your house for another 4 years while they build it. When are they moving out already? Kid, your parents want you gone, and the Pizza Palace can replace you at any moment. Congrats, Monopoly. You taught my kids to be ungrateful, entitled slumlords who still live in my basement!

Yeah. Monopoly messed up your kids. Can't blame yourself, because it couldn't possibly be the parenting skills you learned off a Fruity Pebbles box. Stop blaming the media, the video games, and the teachers, and put the blame squarely where it belongs. On YOUR parents, duh. Those jerks. Why couldn't they have taught you more before they died in that tragic drunk driving accident? I told Ma to lay off the Bay Breezes, but you know women. They never listen.

AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON CLUE! What? WHAT! Like it’s ok to just stumble stupidly around a strangers house looking for clues to a murder. GET OUT NOW! Don’t you know your mother worries about you when you aren’t home?

And that damn Chutes & Ladders. I climb all damn day, struggle, going up one rung at a time, barefoot, and when I FINALLY get near the top, I'm suddenly pushed down a flippin’ slide? Like I’m 3 years old and need a slide? Why even bother trying to get to the top, huh? HUH?!

Also, was there a “16 and pregnant” game that I don’t know about? Because I gotta say…I think that one might be one that should be pulled off the shelves…

Following Fish and Being Followed

Swedish fish are jelly fishies full of crack. They are amazingly epic and chewy and awesome. I don’t think I have ever met anyone who was like, “What? Swedish fish? Get that crap away from me, its gelatinous floppy shape bothers me, and it tastes like deflated implants.”

No one says that because Swedish fish are great.

Found on http://mpatrizio.blogspot.com/2005/10/swedish-fishs-cries-fall-on-deaf-ears.html

I know it’s weird, but I am not a big chocolate person. Boyfriend loves chocolate, my mom is all up IN chocolate’s grill, my friends all seem to like it well enough. I mean, I don’t HATE it or anything, but if given the choice, I’ll always choose my crack-fishies or twizzlers or starburst over it. What can I say? Apparently I am a fruity gal.

 I love fruit. I will eat the HECK out of some pineapple. Dang, now I wish I had some pineapple right now! Mmm, or some cantaloupe. That is such a fun word!

In other news, I think I am a figurehead of some sort. I’m not sure for what, yet. Maybe for a new religion, or a cult-like thing? I don’t know yet, but I know I’ve got followers! According to twitter, 27 people follow me like puppies and listen to the words that are coming out of my face. Well…my fingers, anyway. They’re probably hanging on my every tweet! Which could be awkward for them, seeing as how I don’t tweet that often. Is it difficult to be a minion to a leader who doesn'toften lead? Hmm…perhaps I should be giving my minions something more to see and hear and love about me? I wouldn’t be a very good religious figurehead. I bet I would make a superbadass boat figurehead, though.  

I have just been informed that "figurehead" might not be the right term for the lady on the front of a boat. Darn! I guess I will have to settle for being a pretty okay religious figurehead with a small, yet devout set of followers. But I really like boats!

But yeah, I really like Swedish fish. Those Swedes, they have a lot going for them. Cheap furniture with Swedish instructions, which thankfully include pictures, delicious meatballs, lingonberry jelly. And those crack-fish. I wish I had mailed myself a bunch of staggered envelopes full of Swedish fish, and then forgot about doing that, and then randomly received Swedish fish in the mail from myself. I’d be so excited to get the mail! The only thing that is more fun to receive in the mail is a friend, or a check. When my friends mail themselves to me, it is possibly the heaviest box I will ever get, but also the most exciting.

Unrelatedly, stamps are getting expensive these days!

The Fall and Rise of Monday

I would like to go on record here as saying that I COULD HAVE easily made this entire blog post out of nothing but random pictures of adorable kitties. I have spared you from that, but only with my incredibly excellent willpower and a subtle nudge from common sense. I do like kittens, who doesn’t? But this is not a story about adorable baby animals, it is a story about Monday.

Oh, FINE. Here is one incredibly cute picture of a baby animal, to get you started. Jeez. But it is NOT A KITTEN! 

Told you it wasn't a kitty. It's EVEN BETTER!

Anyway, I have decided to use random and mostly funny pictures that the magical computer box thingy has helped my to find from ALL across the internets, to tell you a probably mostly visual story about one of my Mondays.






First, I wake up. Not happily, not easily, not always on time. But, I do wake up.

After that initial shock of having to be awake in the A.M. on purpose, I somehow get to work. On the way to work, I try to have a force field around me, so that no one talks to me. I wake up with just enough time to shower and dress. Which is about 15 minutes. So, I leave the house 15 minutes after waking up. I am not fully awake yet and I don't want anyone forcing greetings or happiness or eye contact down my throat. I imagine my ride on the train every morning looking like this:

This force field is very effective. Since I have not had my coffee, that is the first thing I do upon walking into work.

This is the smile I give my colleagues, so they don't know that I am feeling murder-y before I take the first few sips.

Then I work diligently and smack out some amazingness for my company.

Ahh, lunch. Everyone's favorite class...um...break.

Awww, classic Peanuts! Had to throw that one in there!

Followed by some more awesomeness and paperwork most deserving of accolades and applause and any other good "A" word that exists.

I get excited, because after working moderately hard for a few minutes right after lunch, I realize that it is now time for more COFFEE! Isn't that just great? I think so.

A bit more work...and THEN...

Freeeeeeeeeeeedom!!

Monday night are the best. First workday of the week is over, I can relax and go boneless on the couch, with nary a worry in my head.  It is also my MURDER NIGHT! I love Dexter. It's recorded on Sunday for Boyfriend and I to enjoy on Mondays. Ahhh, Dexter, you slay me. Or, if you did actually slay me, it would totally be OK, because you are Dexter. :)

I love bedtime. I love sleep so very much. It's why I wake up so late in the mornings. So I can enjoy my precious sleep a few moments more. This is what I feel like when I am sleeping, and how I think I look.

  

Actually, this is probably closer to what I look like. Don't care, still feels great!

I bid you adieu with this adorable baby penguin. I just can't get enough of cute baby animals! SO FLIPPIN' CUTE, I JUST WANT TO PUNCH SOMETHING! (but not the baby animals.)

Thought & Speech Bubbles of (possibly inappropriate) Stuff You Wish You Said

Having random thought and speech bubbles would be way better than bumper stickers. Don’t get me wrong, both can be snarky or sarcastic or silly or promote your beliefs. But which is more fun: yet another “my delinquent can beat up your honor student” sticker on the car in front of you that just won’t TURN OFF THE DAMN TURN SIGNAL for 7 miles, or interesting and ridiculous non permanent, interchangeable phrases on a bubble?

Also, you could glue or duct tape your thought and speech bubbles to a stick and hold them up with different phrases! I feel like this could catch on. Feel free to use one of my bubbles that I drew out, below!

I had (and still have) a big fake mustache on a stick (it’s a chopstick). This has NOT caught on, though I firmly believe it still will. I have recently been informed that my friend Megan ALSO has a mustache on a stick. This was not planned. I think I love her. When we’re both in DC in 2 weeks, we are going to celebrate our love of fake mustaches by going out for a beer with them.

Boyfriend doesn’t have a mustache, fake or otherwise. He DOES, however, have a delightful goatee that I enjoy stroking, while saying “hmmmmm…” thoughtfully. Obviously, I do this because I do not have a goatee, and everyone thinks better when villainously stroking one. Duh.

Here are some fine examples if things you might wish you had said, want to say, or are afraid to say because SOMEONE might smack you:

(in relationships)

“When you left the room, I picked my nose.”

 “That fart wasn’t the dog…”

“Oh….were you saying something?”

“What? Didn’t we just cuddle LAST night?”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t really CARE what your mom thinks!” *gasp!*

(to your parents)

“NO. JEEEEEEEEEEEZ.”

“Ewwwww, this chicken tastes like a tiger sat on it after it had been left in the sun for week.”

“If by ‘cleaned my room,’ you mean ‘shoved everything in the closet,’ then YEP!”

“I will not be seen in public with you dressed like that.”

“Do I get that ring/this house/those curtains when you kick the bucket?”

(to strangers, with no repercussions)

“What? Yes…exCUSE me?!...wait…are you on Bluetooth?”

“Your hair looks like you set fire to it and tried to put it out by letting ants eat your face.”

“Yes, please just throw your garbage on the ground. Who cares if this is a clean, nice area FOR THE CHILDREN!”

“Don't stare at me while on public transportation. No exceptions. THAT MEANS YOU.”

“I hate you and all that you stand for. Nope, no specific reason why.”

Weird But True...First Edition? I don't really know if there will be more.

Facts (and I think these are interesting! I picked them just for you!):

-No matter how hard you squeeze the 2 ends of an egg at the same time, it will never break. Have fun with that!

-1% of Germans are immune to HIV.

-If you add up the weight of all the ants in whole world, it’s equal to the weight of all the humans in the world. And ants can lift something like 20 times their body weight. (Hope they don’t mutiny against us!)

-Did you know that the reason men have nipples is because ALL fetus’s (fetii??) are female until 6-8 weeks after conception, when the Y chromosome kicks in? By 6-8 weeks, breast tissue, nipples and milk ducts are already formed. This is true for all mammals, except stallions, and only because they don’t have nipples at all. (This gives a whole new light to Ben Stiller in Meet the Parents saying “You can milk anything with nipples.”)

-Studies have shown (and MythBusters did a segment on it!) that cursing out loud helps relieve physical pain, and can raise your level of pain tolerance.

- “Q-Tip” is a brand name. The Q in Q-Tip stands for “quality.” The generic name for the product is “cotton-tipped applicator.” Originally the product was called “Baby Gays.”

-Sean Connery was originally offered the role of Gandalf in Lord of The Rings trilogy…but turned it down because he didn’t understand the story.

-Unicycler Lutz Eichholz holds a weird world record. He rode his unicycle 29 feet, 4 inches on top of beer bottles, which were held steady by a wooden railing. (He rode his UNICYCLE almost 30 feet on only beer bottles. WHY?)

-Your eye muscles move over 100,000 times a day (approximately 3 times per second). They are pretty much constantly moving, and have a special protein that keeps them from experiencing fatigue from moving so quickly and so much. The reason stuff isn’t blurry is because our minds, apparently to prepare for the eye movements before they occur, help us keep track of objects in the visual field.

- Wikipedia has banned the Church of Scientology from editing any articles. It’s the punishment for repeated and deceptive editing of over 400 articles related to Scientology.  Basically, a bunch of people from the Church of Scientology itself were using multiple accounts to silence any critics who cited opposing materials.  Wiki prides itself on being open and inclusive, but apparently enough was enough and many individual users were banned from the whole wiki site for 6 months directly because of this. (I actually laughed out loud at this!)

I have 2 states that I consider mine. Florida: the land of my youth, my family, oranges, and my loss of innocence, and New York: the land of my current residence, my boyfriend, and my enjoyment of many interesting restaurants. Here are dumb/weird laws for those 2 states.

Actual laws in the state of NY:

-It is illegal for a woman to be on the street wearing “body hugging clothing.” (There are a LOT of criminals near my office.) BUT another law states: Women may go topless in public, providing it is not being used as a business. (So, topless is fine, but tight clothes is TOO FAR! haha)

-Citizens may not greet each other by “putting one’s thumb to the nose and wiggling the fingers.” (Um…that’s actually my boss’s daily greeting.)

-It is against the law to throw a ball at someone’s head for fun.  (But it’s A-OK to do it with malicious intent, or for vengeance? DAMN YOU! *Throws ball at someone’s head* “That wasn’t FOR FUN, I wanted you in PAIN!”)

-While riding in an elevator, one must talk to no one, and fold his hands while looking toward the door. (I actually prefer to walk into a crowded elevator, wait until it starts moving, then turn towards everyone and say “I guess you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here…” Arrest me, Dano.)

Actual laws in the state of FL:

-Having sexual relations with a porcupine is illegal. (Well…my big brother is in for a rude awakening.)

-Men may not be seen publicly in any kind of strapless gown. (There goes the most popular style of prom and wedding dresses, men!)

-Pregnant pigs are not to be confined to cages. (What? They’re allowed to run free just because they’re pregnant?! You don’t see me allowing my pregnant sister out of the kitchen, do you?)

-It is illegal for a doctor to ask a patient whether or not they own a gun. (Ridiculous. How else will you know which ones to tell bad news to from another room?)

Of the 2, I personally think New York has dumber laws…but I will concede that it also has a ton more people, so statistically, there are a lot more idiots in NY. I mean…just like weird rules and tags you see on things, like “Do not iron clothes while wearing them,” enough idiots did it at some point to actually require that tag!

I Really Liked Boy Meets World & other 90s Shows

That’s ridiculous, it is not past tense. I still like Boy Meets World. I found out a couple weeks ago that there are full episodes of it on youtube! Now, when I jog on the elliptical machine at the gym, instead of plugging in to their system and watching Mythbusters or the 4 millionth episode of House Hunters, I watch old Boy Meets World episodes on my cell phone.

Dang, I love my smartphone. I am telling you, that thing is smarter than I am, for sure. It’s a calculator, a texting-machine, and a handheld Sudoku player. And that is pretty much all I used it for, before I found out I could watch TV on youtube on it. Oh, my Android, my love. 

Back in the 90s, we had an era of amazing television. Boy Meets World, Step by Step, Full House. Today, TGIF is just what people say on Facebook when they think they’re being cute and original on a Friday morning before they’ve had their coffee. In the 90s, it was a 2 hour block of TV from 8-10 on Friday nights that you’d sit down and watch with the whole family. ON PURPOSE.

And the nickelodeon shows! Ren & Stimpy, Rugrats, Recess, Double Dare. I always wished I was on Double Dare or Legends of the Hidden Temple, or even Figure It Out. That one was kind of lame, though. The kids had secret “talents” that celebrities would try to figure out by asking yes or no questions. But they weren’t talented kids! Naming all the states in alphabetical order, or biting cheese into the shape of states isn’t a talent, it’s just what kids do. Though if I remember right, there was a skinny kid who could fit his whole body through a clothes hanger. That one was pretty cool.

I swear, I feel like I would have kicked butt on GUTS and Legends of the Hidden Temple. Please, I would have blown through that temple with all parts of the statue and avoided those guards like a ninja. Probably. Maybe….ok, so I lack the proper amount of coordination for that to be too likely, but I always watched that show feeling like those other 10 year olds just had NO IDEA how to play the game.  Also, I so wish I could have gotten a piece of the Agro Crag! Glowing rock trophy? HELLS yes.

Ahh, waxing nostalgic about the past. When prices were lower, houses were worth more, music was better, and the TV shows were funnier. Perhaps I am remembering it differently than it really was. Funny, but I bet old people reminiscing about back in their day would sound similar. Prices were lower, their music was better, and the radio was the best way to listen to shows.

On a somewhat related note, I’ve don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in my entire life who didn’t know every word of the Prince of Bel-Air theme song. 

**This was NOT PLANNED. I wrote that line above, about Fresh Prince theme song, yesterday, and found this picture today. :) OccupyWillSmith!! (Click for a larger view. He is so good looking.)

A Trio of Poems on Completely Random Topics

"Lamp Of My Heart" by Jyssica Scott

I love you, O Lamp,

Giver of light.

You sit triumphantly

On the stand of night.

Underneath your

Yellow shine,

I read my books

With naked eye.

Though I was blind,

You make me see!

Once, I stubbed my toe,

Now I walk freely!

You’ve lit the path, and

You make me complete.

O Lamp, I love you,

No other can compete.

Except, perhaps, that

Keychain flashlight. For,

When the power goes out

You become useless, quite.

------------------

A Halloween Limerick:

One Halloween, a girl dressed as Pac-Man,

But her friends all said it was whack, man.

She said, I’ll just go slutty,

And so did her buddy,

So, dressed in cold air and giggles, they ran.*

*Shoutout to Megan Bonnell, who provided the perfect last line to the limerick! Holla! :)

-------------------

"The End of Cool" by Jyssica Scott

Oh, LOL.

Oh, LMAO.

Oh, certain dance moves!

Oh, skater shoes.

Oh, bangle bracelets.

I’ll miss you all,

Individually and as a whole.

It was fun while it lasted!

We had a great run,

I thought you might stay,

But, our times together

Have all come to pass.

Once, we would play

And laugh and run,

Now you’re nothing

But a footnote in cool history.

I heard my mom say “LMAO”

Yesterday, and it broke my heart.

To know that it has now joined the

Uncool graveyard.

Just like all the other things

Parents do to be “hip.”

Like, the word “hip.”

See how they ruined that?

Or how about flare-leg jeans?

And comfy converse sneakers,

I see them on parents all the time.

And they don’t even call them chucks!

Oh, Macarena.

I don’t think you were ever really cool.

But the parents took away any tiny

Chance you might have had.

 

 

Oh, UGG boots.

I never liked you anyway,

But a ton of people did, and

Now the baby boomers wear them.

 

 

So, if you love something now

Don’t get too attached,

Sooner or later,

Your parents will do or say it.

And that is totally the

End of Cool as we know it.

Who Doesn't Love Getting Presents In The Mail?

On a Russian Mail-Order Bride website FAQ:

“Do not call her a mail-order bride.” Yes, that makes sense. Do not call your new wife a hooker. GOT IT. Step one, complete.

On the other hand, that’s what she IS. How else would you describe her sometimes? Perfect example: Guys are pretty oblivious. Let’s say you got a mail order bride, you brought her over maybe 4 months ago. Now, you’re out hanging with your best friend. He says, “Hey. So, who’s that chick that I’ve kinda noticed seems to be at your place a lot?” “Well, my incredibly observant friend, that would be my live-in mail-order bride. She’s Russian. There’s a language barrier, but hotness overrides any conversation.” “DUDE!” *high five*

And that would likely be the sum total of conversations ever to be had about that.

Mail-Order brides: a pricey contractual obligation to “love,” honor, and cherish a complete stranger, who now lives with you, gets a green card, shares your life and room, and touches all your stuff.

Oh, no. How annoying would it be for someone to just touch all your stuff? And move it the hell around! That would drive my minor OCD absolutely INSANE. What if she breaks something? With the language barrier, how would you even let her know that what she did was wrong? Slap her hand like a small child? A time out? Rubbing her nose in it and repeating “no!”?

A mail-order bride would be a fun gift, though. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Tommy! Open mine first!” Tommy: “Yay!!! Presents! *rip rip tear* It’s…a dead blonde? Um..thanks?” You: “Crap. I knew I should have put in air holes.”

Or, if she lives through the gift-wrap experience, Tommy might be a bit more excited. “A chick! You got me a blonde? Who only speaks Russian?! And you’ve obligated me to marry her and live with her for a minimum of one year? Screw Maryann, she was bringing me down, anyway.  You know me so well, brosef.”

Just remember to include instructions with the gift: This mail-order bride must be fed, watered, walked, and occasionally looked at to maintain her outward appearance and inner will to stay with you and alive (both are necessary for complete enjoyment of M-OB). Do not burn, eat, shoot at, or scream at this bride, as this may result in voiding of the warranty. Warranty only covers accidental damage, but does not include any water/liquid damage that you may incur. Please refrain from stabbing or puncturing your bride, contents may be under extreme pressure. Do not microwave, broil, marinate, grill, flambé, or  pickle your bride.

No exchanges. Don’t come crying to me when you don’t like her anymore, that’s not included in the warranty, chucklehead.

Where is my book deal, Random House?

How does one become famous with a blog? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that there are blogs out there that have become super popular and gotten book deals and stuff.  I’m just saying, I am up to what, 11, maybe 12 posts now? I should totally be famous. I have not yet reached my blog-pinnacle.

I mean, obviously I am hilarious. That’s how this works. If you HAVE a blog, you automatically are super hilarious. Causing hilarity and guffaws wherever you go. Chuckles, even. Sometimes giggles, but I’ll admit that I find giggling annoying, and I associate it in my mind with boy-crazy 13 year old girls, who should still be thinking about toys and stuff and not boys, and have you noticed that kids are having sex younger and younger and even getting pregnant super young? Have they never heard of condoms? I mean, if you think you’re old enough for the emotional and physical step of sex, then perhaps you should be old enough to walk into any of the 17 gazillion drugstores in every town and buy a box of condoms. Condoms are kind of expensive, but babies are way MORE expensive, and that ass-whooping I’ll give my kid who tries this stuff will hurt a lot more than the minor embarrassment of buying them in a store.

Because that is the kind of BS excuse I see on stuff like MTVs 16 and Pregnant. “I was too embarrassed to buy condoms.” Really? Guess that embarrassment didn’t extend to not going on national TV and discussing it.

And stop being such idiots. There are so many ways to get the information. It’s not like you didn’t know that pregnancy and STDs were a possibility. And if a guy (or girl!) ever tells you that you have to have sex with them to “prove your love” or some such crap, then they are totally playing you and you need to have a bit more self-respect to let them know that if they really loved you, they’d be willing to wait ‘til you felt ready and comfortable making that step.

Whoa! That was a tangent if I’ve ever seen one!  OK, so back to my not-yet-famous-ness. I am going to concede that not that many people know about my blog yet, so maybe I just need to wait a few more weeks. Hmm…my sister finally admitted I’m funny. It’s a win, trust me. I always joke around and tell my brothers and sister: “Don’t forget, I’m awesome and funny!” And the typical response is: “How can I forget if you’re always reminding me??” So true, Confucius.

I promise if I get book-level famous, which is actually the level I WANT, not actual famous with people knowing who I am, then I swear I will put at last half to 2/3 new material in the book and not just recycled entries. This is a ridiculous promise. I have all of about 7 people that read my blog right now. Lol!! This entertains me.

Other things that entertain me (not a complete list by a long shot): my guilty pleasure tabloid magazines (shut UP.), my best friends, people who freak out in a light misting rain, penguins, sea otters, complaining about the inherent false advertising of the koala bear (THEY ARE ADORABLE LIARS!), youtube, Boy Meets World, funny poems, stickers, mail-order brides, and old people.

An Incomplete List of Things That Cheese Me Off/Annoy Me/Cause Me To Rant Incoherently

So, I understand that everyone is different, everyone has different things that annoy them or piss them off, or cause them to make up brand new curse words, perhaps in different languages. I get that. But yeah...this is MY blog. Therefore, the below list is stuff that annoys me specifically. Some of it probably annoys you. Some might not and you may begin to suspect that I am in fact, a snobby jerk with too high of standards to be allowed to occupy the same space as you, or breath the same air.

In this, you would be wrong. I am a perfectly nice person. Well, most of the time, anyway! So, I am nice and I'm tolerant. In fact, I am one of those annoying people who preach tolerance and acceptance of everyone (side note: I'm still happy and excited about NY legalizing gay marriage!). That being said, there are annoying idiots everywhere, and here are the ones by whom I seem to be constantly besieged. As well as just things. Not all of the below are things people do, some are just things that exist. Yes, the very existence of these things bother me on a soul-deep level.

-People who eat crunchy chips/other foods with their mouth wiiiiiiiiiide open.

-When I’m super tired and I have a cup of coffee or 4 and it is still not enough to wake me up and I am still super tired.

-A flickering overhead light…I don’t know why, but I cannot handle that kind of flashing strobe-y annoyance. Seriously, I just want to punch that light in the face and scream “Make a decision, dammit!”

-People who leave voicemails that only say “Hey, it’s me. Call me back.” Totally got that from the missed call. (I’m talking directly to you, Mom.)

-Foods that are supposed to be crunchy and then are not, and vice versa! Who wants a mushy carrot? Or a sad, non-crispy potato chip?

-When my cell phone tells me I have new email and then I don’t. Now, that’s just mean. :(

-People who use text-speak in real conversation. I refuse to respond to you if you say “lawl” as if to say “LOL” out loud.

-Ooooh! Also, people who don’t use ANY grammar or punctuation when typing! Not using apostrophes or something is understandable, it does shorten it slightly, and if you’re typing on a cell phone, they can get annoying, what with the function-symbol-whatever-apostrophe keys. But no periods or capitalization? On a cell phone, you have to TRY to be that dumb. My cell automatically capitalizes the first letter of every sentence and all proper nouns, like days of the week. It automatically puts in periods if I hit space bar twice. How do you screw it up if it is automatically fixed for you as you go??

-Part B to the above. Even if you are on a computer, it is unforgivable to be using crappy grammar and weird-ass spelling. “an lyk it was dis n dat b crzeeee man.” Yyyyyeah…..I’m not reading that, responding to it, or accepting it as English. And trust me, that makes you look like the biggest idiot to anyone over the age of YOU. Or 12. Whichever comes first.

-AND people who tYpE LiKe ThIs A lOt. Really makes the voice in my head go berserk when trying to read it. Then I get confused, like why can’t my brain just register it normally and ignore the random capitals? This can then lead into a downward spiral filled with questioning myself. Am I really as smart as I think I am? Has everyone been lying to me this whole time, and I’m not intelligent, I’m simply a functioning retarded adult who is lucky enough to not need diapers every day? Do my parents partake in this ruse? Am I being observed by people who want to document functioning retarded adults and write articles about them for dry, boring science and medical journals? If so, will I get a byline, or am I simply “Subject A”? Are they watching me right now? I can feel their eyes boring into me RIGHT NOW.

-People who can’t or won’t laugh at themselves. I just don’t get it! Life is too short to take everything so seriously and get mortified every time something small or slightly embarrassing happens in public. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Get mortified, and they’re all suddenly laughing at you.

-This one may not be universal. A personal pet peeve of mine is when people leave :10 on the microwave. I don’t get it! Just hit clear so I can see the clock! No one is coming behind you and using the last 10 seconds. You can’t just save it up for the future. Either put your stuff in there for the right amount of time and wait for the beep, or HIT CLEAR! I honestly have no idea why this drives me so nuts, but it really, really does.

What are your biggest pet peeves? Am I missing something completely obvious that should and probably does annoy the crap out of me and I just can’t think of it right now, but later it will occur to me (likely at 3 am and wake me out of my REM cycle) and cause me to slap my own forehead in disbelief over forgetting something so monumentally annoying that I curse it daily and vigorously?