Saturday, April 27, 2013

Internet Nostalgia

Nostalgia seems to be pretty hot right now. I bet in a few years people will look back on 2013 and be all "remember when nostalgia was a thing? I miss those days! We'd all read Buzzfeed articles about terrible NSYNC outfits and repeatedly proclaim that we can't believe Mean Girls and Love Actually are almost a decade old! I miss missing things!" Since this blog is all about what's HOT, I decided to get in on the trend.

Of course, since I'm obviously a hipster, I was into nostalgia way before everyone else. Remember those days? When nostalgia wasn't cool yet? I miss those days. Anyway, we used to wrap our Christmas ornaments in newspaper when we took down the tree every January, and then come the following December, we'd rediscover everything that was in the news a year ago. My favorite was reading the movie listings. "Oh my gosh, remember this movie? It's so old now!" I'd say. Now that I'm old myself, one year ago really doesn't seem that old. For reference, a movie that opened this weekend in 2012 is The Five-Year Engagement. If you don't remember that movie it's probably because you never saw it, not because it's old.

To get my nostalgia fix these days, I have to go back...Wayback. Enter The Wayback Machine, an internet archive stretching back to good ol' 1996. Remember 1996? Good times. That was the year I learned multiplication, a skill without which I'd be literally nothing today. That was also the year AOL decided to offer pricing for unlimited internet use!

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

I Wanna Be a Squirrel When I Grow Up

When my little brother was in preschool, he had to draw a picture of what he wanted to be when he grew up. He drew a robot.

Wouldn't it be sweet to be a robot as your professional career? You could wear head-to-toe silver, with LED buttons that periodically light up and blink like one of those Christmas tree sweaters your grandma wears. You could walk around all day without ever bending at the elbows and knees, and talk in a robot voice like Steven Hawking (poor taste?). You could do the best "the robot" on Saturday nights in da club. Of course, one could say, with a self-satisfied grin, that I have already become a robot, since I'm working in corporate America. Har dee har har.

 Image via Rusty Zipper
Side note: You can purchase this sweater for $86. But if you do, you're doing it wrong.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Hair in Four Vignettes

Let Your Hair Down:

Why do people say "let your hair down" to mean cutting lose, getting wild, relaxing? Why do bear skin rug sessions always have a dramatic hairdo takedown as the fireplace heats up? Don't you people realize that, if my hair is up, it's up for a reason? You really want me to release the kraken on you, bobby pins springing free, curls breaking windows like Clark Griswold's Christmas tree?

If my hair is up, you can assume one or both of the following is true:
1) I was having a bad hair day, which is to say, I didn't have time to straighten my hair.
2) I spent time and energy making it look just right, at times testing the limits of my finger dexterity wrestling with bobby pins, using my teeth as a third hand.

I'm not going to get all care-free and "let my hair down" in a moment of reckless abandon. It wouldn't be like an Herbal Essences commercial, trust me. It would truly be reckless.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Songs that Coax a Lonely Tear

Sometimes you just need a good cry, amiriteladeez? Crying can be therapeutic. So therapeutic, in fact, that I occasionally turn on some melancholy jamz just to get in the mood for crying. The right music can have a tremendous affect on your mood, including making you cry when you aren't otherwise sad. Some songs are guaranteed to make me cry, no matter how goddamn happy I started out. For instance, I'm sure you've all cried a lonely tear along with Sinead O'Connor.

Screenshot via Youtube

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Guest Post from Beana 'n' Baloney: Eating Crackers in Bed

I decided that the idea of between-the-sheets cracker consumption was too good to keep to myself, so I'm starting a series of guest posts on the subject. If you have anything to say on the matter, anything at all, please contact me and I'll publish your post! Yes, this means you, person who has never written a blog post in his/her life. Yes, this means you, person who found my blog by searching "Nickelback lead singer." Anyone who has something insightful to say about bedtime cracker crumbs is welcome to submit.

Fist up, we have Zena from Beana 'n' Baloney, who may need some encouragement in the comments section to continue blogging. So if you like her picks, or even if you disagree, let's show her some love!

Friday, April 12, 2013

The Poop Scale

I discovered The Poop Scale about four months ago, and I've spent the past four months trying to classify each poop I've seen since. It's not exactly a new phenomenon, I suppose. What kid hasn't yelled "Hey Mom, look! A whale!" after pinching off a loaf the size of their forearm? Poop classifying is an important process for medical and entertainment reasons, which is why The Bristol Stool Scale was created.
Image via Wikipedia

Monday, April 8, 2013

Going to Bars is Awkward

Before I turned 21, I didn't understand what bars were like. "What exactly do you do at a bar?" I asked my friend, who was already of bar-going age.

"What do you mean? You drink."

"Yeah but, what else? Like, do you walk up to the bar and order a drink and then just stand there drinking it?"

I knew that at clubs there was dancing to occupy yourself with--I'd seen Night at the Roxbury--and I knew house parties had drinking games and promiscuous sex in parents' marital beds, as far as activities go. But what about bars?

"You just drink and talk and whatever," she told me. She clearly didn't understand the anxiety I felt as my 21st birthday approached. I didn't know how to go to a bar.

I walked into my first bar at midnight on my 21st birthday, and immediately got stopped by a bouncer. He scrutinized my ID and seemed remarkably amused by the fact that the birth date on my drivers license was today. It was like he'd never actually witnessed a birthday before. It was like this bar wasn't famous for giving out a free Jager bomb and t-shirt on your 21st birthday.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

People I Would Kick Out of Bed for Eating Crackers

A friend pointed out that I seem to have a remarkably high tolerance for people eating crackers in my bed. Just who would I kick out of bed for eating crackers, she wondered. That's a good question. If not Bruno Mars, then who? If not Justin friggin' Bieber, THEN WHO?

Despite how it may seem, I am actually quite discerning when it comes to bedtime cracker consumption. Here's a brief list that I just came up with off the top of my head:

Evil Dictators: Evil dictators are just not good people, and I don't allow bad people into my house, let alone my pantry followed by my bed. No crackers for you, Kim Jong-il/un! You both look like a nerdy little boy who grew up to be a nerdy-man-who-looks-like-a-woman. Which is to say, an old lesbian. And Osama bin Laden, rest your soul (haha jk), your face looks like Kim Jong-il/un's unshaved armpit. I would never, and I repeat, never grant him access to my Triscuits.

You can have that haircut or that second chin. Not both, if you don't want to get kicked out of bed.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

The Alcohol Diaries: Part 4

Catch up on the intro, part 1, part 2, and part 3.

Day 35: It seems like everyone is trying to take my money these days--first our old landlord, then Nissan, and then my dental insurance company--and I spend much of the afternoon arguing on the phone, after which a drink would have been nice. Actually, a kickboxing session set to Nickelback would have done the trick too.

Day 37: We go to karaoke at the Milwaukee Ale House with some of Chris's labmates, and I do my first ever solo, sober karaoke performance. I did mostly-sober karaoke back in 2010, but I'm not sure if I've ever actually done solo karaoke. I sing "Billionaire" by Travie McCoy feat. Bruno Mars, and the crowd seems impressed with a little girl rapping expletives.

Eighth Official Insight: I don't need liquid courage to do crazy things; being in a bar, surrounded by drunks is enough to make me feel confident in myself.