Wednesday, January 29, 2014

The Case of the Display Text Button

The other day my car radio display suddenly, out of nowhere, just started scrolling a marquee of the song title and artist where the time used to be. Just right in the middle of a catchy, fresh-to-death jam, the LED display switched from "3:44" to "Pitbull feat. Ke$ha."

"Top hits from your favorite adult films!"

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Getting a Facial is Awkward

I got my first facial* this weekend. I thought a facial was when you sit in a chair and someone slaps some mud or something on your face, lets it dry, and then wipes it off. It turns out that facials are so much more than that, and thus, provide so many more opportunities for awkwardness.

When I got to the spa, the spa attendant handed me a hot towel infused with "chakras." I looked up what chakras are, and while I still couldn't tell you what they are, I can guarantee that these towels are not capable of being infused with them. She then asked me a series of questions about my skin problems, fears, hopes and dreams.

What kind of skin do you have? Uh, normal?
What were you hoping to get out of this session? A novel experience, to be honest.
How do you experience stress? From stress-inducing stimuli, usually.
Do you have acne or fine lines/wrinkles? Aren't you looking at my face right now?

This somehow explains what chakras are.
Image via Wikipedia

Friday, January 17, 2014

Is You've Got Mail the Most Outdated 90s Movie?

I watched You've Got Mail the other day because I saw that it was on Amazon Prime and thus couldn't not watch it. As I was watching the movie, I was overcome with an intense feeling of nostalgia, and not the good kind like when you remember fondly the days you used to wear stirrup pants. It was the bad kind of nostalgia because it was a longing for something I never actually got to experience.

 Image via IMDB

The Romance of NYC
When I was a kid, I watched movie after movie featuring quirky heroines (usually Meg Ryan) falling in love with Tom Hanks-types (usually played by Tom Hanks) against the idyllic backdrop of NYC. They wore roomy pantsuits and sensible sweater sets, exchanged witty musings about city life, and dwelled in enormous apartments with walls of built-ins, despite their part-time jobs. Oh, and there was always jazz music playing.

Monday, January 13, 2014

I Used to Read Sweet Valley Jr. High and I'm Proud of It

One summer, when I was approximately too old to participate in library summer reading programs, I decided to participate in a library summer reading program. I didn't just participate; I also volunteered to help out. In fact, I practically ran the whole program--those librarians didn't give enough of a shit for my liking.

The program's design was pretty flawed, but I wasn't given the authority to overhaul it: every time you finished a book you would log it with a volunteer and receive a sticker to commemorate your accomplishment. To prove you had actually read the book, you had to summarize the plot for the volunteer, and if your summary was deemed adequate (which they always were, because who is going to accuse a child of lying about a library summer reading program? Not me.), you were given a sticker. After accumulating a certain number of stickers, you received a prize, which was, disappointingly, another book.

Oh also, the kids could choose whichever books they wanted, and all books were equally valued. One kid was reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar while another read Anna Karenina; they were both given a sticker.

I, however, preferred to read books like this:

Image via Amazon

My parents were so proud of me for being their "little bookworm." What they failed to realize was that I was basically reading the equivalent of an episode of Degrassi. I was about 10 years from a Nora Roberts addiction.

Because I was pretty damn old, and because the other volunteers were my peers, I had to give my book summary to one of the old hags who ruled over the children's section, aka the librarians. One afternoon, I waltzed in wielding my paperback book and announced that I'd like another sticker and, if I'd counted correctly, I was owed a prize/book.

"What was your book about?" the old hag asked kindly.

"Well," I began, "It's about a girl who really likes this guy, and he finally asks her to be his girlfriend, but then she realizes that it's not as great as she thought it would be and maybe she doesn't really like him like that." I realized how idiotic it sounded as I was talking, but what could I do?

"Ahh, it always seems to happen like that, doesn't it?" she said wisely.

I nodded. "Yes, always." As if someone who volunteered for the library summer reading program had ever spoken to a boy.

"Alright, here's your sticker, and you can go pick out a book to keep!"

That summer, as I worked my way through the Sweet Valley Jr. High series and its ilk, I learned absolutely nothing from my literary pursuits except how difficult it is to go on dates when you're 11 years old, knowledge that didn't apply to me anyway since I looked like this:

Thursday, January 9, 2014

The 5 People You Meet at the Gym

Over the summer, I wrote about the 5 people you meet in hell, and though the gym is many people's personal version of hell, the people you meet there are slightly different. And of course, by "meet," I mean "see," because no one actually meets people at the gym outside of Jersey Shore and Lifetime movies.

1: The Rock-Hard Guy
Something about rock-hard abs and buns of steel just makes me laugh. When I see Rock-Hard Guy checking out his rock-hardness in the mirror, I just feel embarrassed for his blatant display of musculature. RHG doesn't actually do much working out at the gym; instead, he prefers to do a few reps, spend 15 minutes pacing back and forth in front of the machine, and repeat. Rock-Hard Guy can often be seen wiping his shiny forehead with his tight t-shirt, "accidentally" exposing his abs to the world. Another name for RHG is Glistening Guy (GG). All Rock-Hard Guys are also glistening, all the time. Fat people sweat; rock-hard people glisten. It's weird.

 Image via PopSugar
RHG prefers to be shirtless, if possible. It's just more comfortable for him that way.

Monday, January 6, 2014

Bitter Cold

It's bitter cold outside right now. The snow that's quite literally been falling all year has frozen into a concrete slab, making my yard a good three feet higher than it usually is. It's like I finally have the backyard deck I always dreamed of! The paper snowflakes I hung on my windows last month mock me for tempting fate. "You think we're so cute and festive now?" they seem to say. I'm just glad I didn't hang the glittery "Let it Snow!" sign I was thinking of making. Trust me, you don't have to "let it snow" around here; it just happens on its own. Plus, ain't nobody got time to clean up glitter.

 Oh hi, neighbor who hasn't stopped shoveling since 2013!

Friday, January 3, 2014

9 Reasons I'm Glad the Holidays are Over

It's about that time of year when a lot of us could use a pick-me-up/reason to get out of bed in the morning. What was once "Christmas cheer" is suddenly "an alcohol dependency," and Christmas generosity is now debt. That pile of gifts from Santa is now just contributing to your household clutter. It sucks. So I decided to come up with a list of reasons why I'm glad the holidays are over. Don't get me wrong--there's nothing good about this time of year. Nothing. But I needed to give myself a way to get through the next three months without being a miserable cretin. You can alternatively refer to list as "9 Lies We Tell Ourselves to Get Through Winter."

1: Spring will be here soon, which means summer will show up eventually, which means it'll be Christmastime again at some point in the future. And that is something worth celebrating.

2: You don't have to feel guilty about not going outside. I love going outside when it's warm and sunny out. But sometimes I just want to sit inside watching The Bachelorette, eating, or writing crap on the internet. I feel guilty doing this when it's nice out, but luckily, right now it's effing bitter cold and it hasn't stopped snowing since before I can remember.

I can't even remember what it's like to see greenery in my yard, let alone slugs leaving a trail of slime in their wake.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

10 Douchiest Douchebags of 2013: Part 2

Check out Part 1 if you missed it, and read the exciting conclusion below!

Anthony Weiner
Anthony Weiner's name, coupled with his weinerish antics involving his weiner, was probably the greatest gift to bloggers and journalists this world has ever seen. Nothing, and I mean nothing, about 2013 was better than all the punny headlines this story spawned. Why he felt the need to change his name to Carlos Danger when sending unsolicited dick pics is beyond me; "Weiner" more than gets the job done. The worst part about this dick, I mean weiner, is that he did the exact same thing in 2011, got caught, apologized, etc. Then he tried to stage a political comeback. After two months, he couldn't help himself any longer--he had to send out another dick pic, and pronto! And so he did. I have a public service announcement to the Anthony Penises of the world: NO ONE wants to see your dick. Stop trying to make dick pics happen. They're never going to be anything other than something girls laugh at and show to their friends.