Thursday, December 20, 2007

Merry Christmaaaaaaagggghh!

I don't exactly understand this holiday oven mitt I saw at Williams-Sonoma. While the product designers were considerate enough not to add a face that you would have to smash down on a hot casserole dish, they either failed to notice--or failed to care--that if you'd like to use Mr. Gingerbread, you have to seriously violate his no-no place.

The bad news is that I burned the cookies. The good news is that his prostate is fine.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Tuesday: Anything Can Happen Day

Sometimes when I'm too busy to post--because I'm out building an orphanage or fighting crime or spray painting a stick to look like a light saber--I make little notes about things I plan on writing about and leave them in a neat stack beside the computer. Before I forget what "teeth in my mouth" means, I'm finally going to elaborate on all of these little tidbits...

1) Last night, I was watching my favorite TV show, "Paid Programming", when I saw a commercial encouraging you to give McDonald's gift cards to your friends and neighbors this Christmas. Um. That is not something you casually hand out to the mailman or the school bus driver, as suggested by the ad You only give those cards to someone you hate. A McDonald's gift card basically says "I despise you and would like to hasten your departure from this world. So maybe try the McRib."

2) As I was standing on the sidewalk, fumbling with the keypad and trying to get into my building, a red Corvette pulled to the stoplight behind me. While waiting for the light to change, the driver decided to put the top down, allowing everyone within a four Wal-Mart radius to share in his enjoyment of Van Halen. When he increased the volume even more, I turned around just in time to see him thrust his fist in the air.
Jump! (fist pump!)
Might as well jump! (fist! fist! fist!)
I couldn't--and still can't--decide if this should have made me insanely happy or insanely depressed.

3) Speaking of music, I've gotten kind of obsessed with Sirius channel 11, BBC Radio 1. They play everything from dance mixes to Europop to dance mixes of Europop, so it makes me feel like I'm driving an Express dressing room, but without the pressure to purchase a pair of silver jeans or a furry vest that may or may not be made entirely of Pomeranians.

4) Yesterday I almost washed my face with toothpaste.

5) Things I Have Broken In the Past Week:
---A glass bottle of maple syrup
---A Clinique Stay Matte Powder Compact
---A replacement Clinique Stay Matte Powder Compact

Things I Have Not Broken In the Past Week:
---Hearts
---My femur
---Out of Prison

Saturday, December 15, 2007

Positive Thoughts Not Included

I've done extensive research* and have come to the conclusion that there is nothing more annoying and/or likely to drive ordinary citizens into a frothing, face-melting rage more than the a shrieking infant shattering the Starbucks-scented silence of your local Barnes & Noble. However, your (and by "your" I mean "my") rage will be replaced by delight upon witnessing the the mother of said child using a display of carefully arranged copies of The Secret as a changing table.

Confidential to Barnes & Noble Customers: You may want to wash your hands. And maybe not touch your faces. And maybe incinerate your purchases.

Confidential to Me: +1 for not making any "It was a shitty book anyway" comments. Look at you, growing up.

* I have not done any research, except as a child when I would put a wet washcloth on a piece of bread and lay it in the back of the closet to see if I could grow mold.
**I could.
***I also once took the telephone apart.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Overheard at Old Navy

"Well, the doctor said she could take care of his tick bite, but not his heart."
--One elderly woman to another, while waiting in line.

I was in front of them, purchasing my Old Navy Performance Fleece Pajama Bottoms for $10. While I'd never thought I needed "performance" out of my sleepwear, it's nice to know that it has been included in the price.

It's sad, the sliding scale of my personal life/pajamas. The past year has seen me slowly deteriorate from "Oh yeaaaahh"/Agent Provocateur to "Oh...maybe"/Victoria's Secret to "Oh, to hell with it"/Old Navy.

Thank you, Fleece Lounge Pants with Tiny Gnomes Carrying Tinier Christmas Trees, for helping me usher in this new era of sorrow.

Sigh.

Monday, December 10, 2007

No No, Don't Thank Me...


Because I know this is the best Christmas gift ever.

Why? Because it involves:
a) Pee Wee Herman
b) Bryan "Don't Call Me Ryan" Adams
c) Reggae
d) Dream sequences
e) A Mr. T doll
f) All of the above

Thursday, December 06, 2007

You Checked Our Shitters Lately, Honey?

It's December and that means that this year is finally almost over. I'm looking forward to scraping these last 25 days off of the calendar because 2007 has been the worst year of my life, personally and professionally. That's no small accomplishment, since 2006 included 1) my boyfriend of six years leaving me for a woman who looks like a baseball mitt with hair and 2) a prolonged skin rash.

But, why dwell on the negatives (like my unemployment or social calendar which, sadly, remains emptier than Oprah's womb) and instead focus on my Awesome Annual Awesome Christmas Mix CD of Awesomeness. I send CDs of festive holiday music out instead of Christmas cards--no one seemed to appreciate last year's attempt at being Hallmark--and have about 15 left. If you'd like one, drop me an email with "Awesome" in the subject line and let me know where to send it.

Every time you play the music, it'll be like I'm attending your own holiday celebrations but without the awkwardness of actually, you know, meeting me. Or speaking to me. Or watching me eat.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Apartment, Sweet Apartment

So we survived Vegas. It was a great trip, even with the whole "running" part and--trust me--there will be a scathing review of the Las Vegas Marathon/Half Marathon debacle(s) posted before the end of the week, but for now we'll focus on some of the other things my sister Runtie and I learned during our visit to Nevada (Official Motto: No One Cares About the Rest of the State).

Neither of us are gamblers, unless you count our willingness to use the public restrooms in the casinos, so we decided early on that if we were going to lose money, it was going to be through shopping and not through an ill-advised hand of blackjack. Until last week, I thought "double down" was a type of duvet cover. So we went shopping and it didn't take long for us to realize that most of the stores were out of our price range. Actually, I've been unemployed for so long, name-brand pasta sauce is out of my price range, so I'm not sure who I was kidding when I decided to stroll into the Forum Shops at Caesar's.

Vegas Lesson #1: If a store's front window display features either a garment you do not understand or a television showing nonstop footage of models strutting down a catwalk looking moody/pensive/constipated, you probably can't afford to shop there.

That said, I did have to purchase a pair of dress shoes on our first day, because while I made sure to pack my running shoes and a pair of sensible-yet-completely-hideous flats made by a brand with an umlaut in their name, I forgot to bring anything remotely formal. After emptying my suitcase, I realized that my options for accessorizing my evening wear were either the sneakers--which would make me look like a mallwalker on her lunch break--or the shapeless brown flats, which make me look like a Hopi Indian.

We bypassed the overpriced options (which included stores named after people, stores with marble entrances, or any place where the salespeople had adjectives for names. Sorry, Dazzle.) to find one of the only department stores on the strip. And they were having a sale. And I found a pair of red heels that were half price, in my size, and were flashy enough to distract from my scrawny marionette legs.

Fast forward to approximately three minutes after putting the shoes on and realizing that Michael Kors designs footwear for people with cloven hooves. I have already snapped the heel on the left one, both so I can return them to the local branch of the department store and so they can't hurt anyone else. Suck it Kors. Your reign of terror ends at Dillard's.

Vegas Lesson #2: No one notices if you're walking barefoot through the casino, because they are too distracted by the hotel staff members scrubbing furiously at the vomit stain near the door.

On Friday night, we went to see Ka, the Cirque de Soleil show. For those of you who have not seen a Cirque show, they are what would happen if a Bjork song came to life.

Vegas Lesson #3: While seeing Cirque de Soleil is more expensive than taking drugs, particles of Cirque will not be detected on any pre-employment drug screenings. Unless you lick the backs of the performers.

Before you plan a trip to Vegas, just realize that it is insanely expensive and absolutely everything you do costs money. After understanding that we could have combined the money we spent on cabs to buy a Dodge Stratus, we decided it would be cheaper and more convenient to ride the Monorail. Um. What they don't explain is that the monorail "stations" are in the deepest bowels of the hotels, and most of these buildings have floor plans rarely seen outside of the Legend of Zelda. Pack a snack. Just don't buy it there, unless you have extra plasma to sell.

Vegas Lesson #4: Yes, a bagel is approximately $84. But food prices are like the city itself: there's no middle class. Everything is either ridiculously pricey or it's the culinary equivalent of the "Homeless Man With An Arm Growing From His Forehead You Saw Sleeping Near New York, New York, Making It Eerily Similar To Actual New York."

Vegas Lesson #4.5: No matter how hungry you are, you should probably avoid the slot machines that pay you in shrimp.

BUT, we had a great time. I'm not sure Runtie and I have spent that much time together since I left for college, back when I was single, jobless, and had horrible skin. And now look at me! I...um...I dated a guy once. For real, our trip was awesome because not only did I get to see her finish her first marathon, I also learned things about her, little things like the fact that she doesn't like John Cusack's mouth. And where she went to college. And that she's so my best friend.