I give so much credit to the postal service. I will never understand how a letter from Pennsylvania can successfully make it to what was the house where G and I lived in Australia last year. How does that happen? It amazes me more than the internet because it's humans actually performing the actions. I want an inside look into the system because do they physically distribute the mail based on nearby locations of where other mail is going? Do they have a machine that reads the addresses on the front?* I need to meet a postal worker, asap. I'm a huge fan of sending things via mail if you haven't figured that out yet. I think it's one of the most thoughtful things you can do. Something about holding a card in your hands just makes you realize that it took effort to hand write their name inside, or address the envelope. I usually give the sender far less credit if they use a type up, print out version of addressing, but whatever they still had to put it in a mailbox.
My friend Moose even mailed me a birthday card to Sydney and there were so many errors on the envelope I'm surprised they let it pass through customs. I wish I would have saved the envelope and taken a picture. From what I remember, he spelled Australia wrong, he had no return address listed, the stamp was closer to the middle than the corner (the cheapest stamp you can get, no international stamp for this guy) and he mixed up my zipcode. I feel that card should have been confiscated at some point in between destinations. However, was I bothered with all those errors he made? No, of course not. I was very confused, yes. But overall, I was so pumped he took the time to mail me a card when he could have just emailed me something. Which would have also been thoughtful (this is for the people who only emailed me on my birthday when I was in Sydney, TOM)...
G opened our little mailbox today in our apartment lobby and you would have thought I won the lottery by my reaction. There was a card from my cousin with some frond bracelets (long story) she told me she was going to send me. It was awesome even though I was somewhat expecting them to come because she told me she was going to send them. Sometimes people forget, you know? I didn't want to get my hopes up. But I definitely did so when I saw they arrived I yelled "OH MY FRONDS!!!!!" And proceeded to open up the envelope in the crammed elevator (I'm impatient), not paying attention to anything else until Genna pointed out I was getting off on the wrong floor. Nice.
xxxx
A
*Literally things that keep me up at night.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Mmm. The Taste of Mistake
You know that moment when you're at a RedBox trying to decide what movie to rent and someone comes up behind you to wait? Your tension level rises immensely and you forget what you're even doing. The worst. Especially because they technically aren't doing anything wrong. It's not like there's a proper queue to wait in or the owners surrounding the RedBox have activities to entertain those waiting behind you. They just stand there. You can feel their eyes piercing holes through your back urging you to hurry the hell up because they want a damn movie, too. I seriously would prefer them to stare at my ass if that means they won't grow hostile if I take too long. I think I'm joking.
I had a very similar experience today at the vending machine that ruined (dramatic) my day from noon to 1. I was in a state of intense concentration evaluating my options of an afternoon snack. The bottom row was hosting the PopTarts which were calling my name and mocking me to live a little cuz they know I won't. The logical part of my brain knew right away I wasn't going to pick it but I liked looking at the different flavors. Even their packaging makes it look so fun to eat. The top row had a few varieties of chips, pretzels and the like. I was tempted to buy a bag, but pretzels make my mouth dry after a couple unless I rotate with sipping water which just gets obnoxious. The naturally kettle cooked chips always catch my eye because outwardly they seem like a healthy choice, but being a student of environmental/societal/public health classes I know very well the health benefits compared to a bag of Lays are minimal. They're definitely not good for you, but I suppose you could get away with saying they are a little less worse?
Then I spotted right away the little baggy of almonds, cranberries and peanuts. Yes, I realize I have the snacking habits of a stay at home mom who wins like "PTA Mom of the Year"and organizes field trips and shit but when my arteries are squeaky clean and cholesterol level is normal and I can run a marathon at age fifty (definitely hypothetical) I will be pleased.
The moral of this story that I got wildly off track on is to stay focused if someone comes up way too close behind you during the crucial moment of decision making. I got flustered by this girl and ended up pressing A53 instead of A54 and when I saw the 3 Musketeers Bar (not even mini size) slowly fall off the shelf I realized what I had done. I nonchalantly grabbed the chocolate bar like it was my full intention and sat at the nearest table to comprehend what just happened. For a second I thought about going up to the girl.
Ew. It wasn't even good. The taste of complete error and total failure. I threw it out and bought the nuts.
xxxx
A
I had a very similar experience today at the vending machine that ruined (dramatic) my day from noon to 1. I was in a state of intense concentration evaluating my options of an afternoon snack. The bottom row was hosting the PopTarts which were calling my name and mocking me to live a little cuz they know I won't. The logical part of my brain knew right away I wasn't going to pick it but I liked looking at the different flavors. Even their packaging makes it look so fun to eat. The top row had a few varieties of chips, pretzels and the like. I was tempted to buy a bag, but pretzels make my mouth dry after a couple unless I rotate with sipping water which just gets obnoxious. The naturally kettle cooked chips always catch my eye because outwardly they seem like a healthy choice, but being a student of environmental/societal/public health classes I know very well the health benefits compared to a bag of Lays are minimal. They're definitely not good for you, but I suppose you could get away with saying they are a little less worse?
Then I spotted right away the little baggy of almonds, cranberries and peanuts. Yes, I realize I have the snacking habits of a stay at home mom who wins like "PTA Mom of the Year"and organizes field trips and shit but when my arteries are squeaky clean and cholesterol level is normal and I can run a marathon at age fifty (definitely hypothetical) I will be pleased.
The moral of this story that I got wildly off track on is to stay focused if someone comes up way too close behind you during the crucial moment of decision making. I got flustered by this girl and ended up pressing A53 instead of A54 and when I saw the 3 Musketeers Bar (not even mini size) slowly fall off the shelf I realized what I had done. I nonchalantly grabbed the chocolate bar like it was my full intention and sat at the nearest table to comprehend what just happened. For a second I thought about going up to the girl.
"Do you realize what you've done?"No that would be overreacting. But I knew I couldn't throw it out because that's just pure wastefulness. I knew I wouldn't come across someone who I really cared about enough to offer a full size candy bar to without seeming super creepy and awkward. So I just opened it up and took a bite.
Ew. It wasn't even good. The taste of complete error and total failure. I threw it out and bought the nuts.
xxxx
A
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Perfect Boys
If it was appropriate to write a blog that spanned fifty two separate paragraphs, this would be the post that does just that. The only obvious reason: Cosmopolitan released their 2012 Bachelor of the Year nominees. I love this issue because I can find something ridiculous/mockable/definitelynotgenuine with at least one comment made by typically every nominee (Are you still pretending I have a life or have you lost all faith?). Oh, you like to draw buildings in your sketchbook in your free time? Perfect! I want a white house with blue shudders and a wrap around porch so I can paint and watch the sunset and sunrise! Please be a little more original with your free-time response, Alabama. I don't have a problem with architects, only one's who claim they're seductive yet would only try s&m if "she wanted to". Whatever, dude. You're a college sophomore who looks like he's 35.
Then we have Mr. New Hampshire. What a confused young man. He's admitting to have read "Fifty Shades of Grey" and also wants to take women on his motorcycle. How beautiful. Signs he's smitten: "I'll want to spend a lot of time with her, even doing boring things like shopping."
Well, here's a tip. Do not refer to things she likes to do as boring. She may not respond well to that classification.
South Dakota: "I'm a sweet, sarcastic cowboy who loves riding and roping horses." Finally someone admits to wanting s&m.
And Utah is wondering "Why do great girls fall for supbar guys?" Where, exactly, do you hang out sir? I have been to quite a few places in America and it's not like us women are flocked with abovepar gentleman. And don't call yourself intriguing, you might as well say "I find myself immensely interesting".
Of course, we need the Ivy League representative. Thank you, Connecticut, for supplying us with the professional violinist possessing sensitive palms and washboard abs. As if these traits alone don't make you want to transfer immediately to Yale, hold up. My long-term long-distance dear friend, Grace, whom I will always find myself wanting to be good friends with if we are ever in the same state, goes to Yale and admitted the facts to me. "He is completely skewing the Cosmo-reading world's view of what the average Yale guy looks like. He's really fucking up the curve." Now there's honesty.
I wish every one of these bachelor's contained a little anecdote with a comment from a "Grace" in their state. I know there are naive women out there who believe that Mr. New Hampshire is perfect because he will narrarate soft erotica while making your hair blow in the wind. And maybe that is perfect for someone (he'll probably still leave the toilet seat up anyways). I really don't know anything about the perfect boy or bachelor. I wouldn't want him. That would cause too much competition with myself.
xxxx
A
Then we have Mr. New Hampshire. What a confused young man. He's admitting to have read "Fifty Shades of Grey" and also wants to take women on his motorcycle. How beautiful. Signs he's smitten: "I'll want to spend a lot of time with her, even doing boring things like shopping."
Well, here's a tip. Do not refer to things she likes to do as boring. She may not respond well to that classification.
South Dakota: "I'm a sweet, sarcastic cowboy who loves riding and roping horses." Finally someone admits to wanting s&m.
And Utah is wondering "Why do great girls fall for supbar guys?" Where, exactly, do you hang out sir? I have been to quite a few places in America and it's not like us women are flocked with abovepar gentleman. And don't call yourself intriguing, you might as well say "I find myself immensely interesting".
Of course, we need the Ivy League representative. Thank you, Connecticut, for supplying us with the professional violinist possessing sensitive palms and washboard abs. As if these traits alone don't make you want to transfer immediately to Yale, hold up. My long-term long-distance dear friend, Grace, whom I will always find myself wanting to be good friends with if we are ever in the same state, goes to Yale and admitted the facts to me. "He is completely skewing the Cosmo-reading world's view of what the average Yale guy looks like. He's really fucking up the curve." Now there's honesty.
I wish every one of these bachelor's contained a little anecdote with a comment from a "Grace" in their state. I know there are naive women out there who believe that Mr. New Hampshire is perfect because he will narrarate soft erotica while making your hair blow in the wind. And maybe that is perfect for someone (he'll probably still leave the toilet seat up anyways). I really don't know anything about the perfect boy or bachelor. I wouldn't want him. That would cause too much competition with myself.
xxxx
A
Monday, October 1, 2012
I Don't Even Like Tootsie Rolls.
Thank God it's October because I HATE SEPTEMBER. I've never fully understood why but I do have a few thoughts. It might be some innate hatred for the beginning of school that I possessed since I was a wee little one but who knows. It could also be that I just am not a big fan of fall in general, and September marks the start of the season. I have less of a problem with October and I actually love November with a passion. I think November for me means fall is almost over and Christmas is coming. Like, if I made it to November then the fall season can officially suck it. I'm not crazy about Halloween. We had a wise orange, large cat named Pumpkin (the name product of a family whose creativity level reaches new heights) when I was young and one Halloween he was on the front porch and a kid stepped on him. My brothers always made me think Tootsie Rolls and mints were better than Snickers and Reese's and wouldn't tell me that's obviously not true until I traded away all my mini candy bars for little hard pieces of shit candy. I would be pushin' 60 Tootsie Rolls by the time we tallied candies.
I'd rather carve into my face than into a pumpkin, and it would probably look better (dramatic but you get the picture). And pulling those nasty squishy groups of seeds out of the middle always makes me uncomfortable. Even hayrides. Does everyone just ignore the fact the whole event smells like farm animal fecal matter? Maybe it's just me. I'm now realizing it would make more sense that I hate October more than September, but I don't. I'm clearly full of surprises. And complaints.
I DO enjoy haunted houses and scary movies. And they have some great ones in Ohio. Getting scared makes me feel alive, you know. Seriously. Things popping out or making sudden movements freak me out though. I took a very long way around the aisles in CVS to get to the vitamins because they had one of those life size hooded skeletons standing near the aisle I needed. I swear to God if I walked in front of that thing and it had a motion detector and did something I would have shrieked. There is no reason to draw that type of attention to yourself in a drugstore.
Current events: There is a huge peanut butter recall list that just keeps growing. I am getting increasingly nervous. If you consume the main brands like choosy moms you should be OK because Jif and Skippy are cleared. If you're a health freak (relax I don't really think that) and buy your pb from Trader Joe's or Whole Foods then be careful because they're on the list. I don't know what else to tell you besides be careful because I don't work for the FDA. Don't eat it?
I'd rather carve into my face than into a pumpkin, and it would probably look better (dramatic but you get the picture). And pulling those nasty squishy groups of seeds out of the middle always makes me uncomfortable. Even hayrides. Does everyone just ignore the fact the whole event smells like farm animal fecal matter? Maybe it's just me. I'm now realizing it would make more sense that I hate October more than September, but I don't. I'm clearly full of surprises. And complaints.
I DO enjoy haunted houses and scary movies. And they have some great ones in Ohio. Getting scared makes me feel alive, you know. Seriously. Things popping out or making sudden movements freak me out though. I took a very long way around the aisles in CVS to get to the vitamins because they had one of those life size hooded skeletons standing near the aisle I needed. I swear to God if I walked in front of that thing and it had a motion detector and did something I would have shrieked. There is no reason to draw that type of attention to yourself in a drugstore.
 |
| HOW DOES THIS PROMOTE BUSINESS? |
xxxx
A
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)