Saturday, February 19, 2011

A Conversation with an Idiot

Me: Hello! Companion Anim---
Creepy Dude: *coughing and snorting* Uh, yeah. Hey. I need to know something.
Me: Okay. What can I help you with?
Creepy Dude: Can I get rabies from my dawg by sharing his water bowl?
Me: *Wait...wha?? -* ......... Im sorry. I didn't catch all that. 
Creepy Dude: If my dawg has rabies, can I get it by drinking his water?
Me: (While imagining a portly fellow in a Big Johnson t-shirt hunkered over a Cool-Whip bowl filled with water in the floor next to his "he won't bite'cha but he don't
 like no strangers" intact male pit bull) .....Well, yes. Rabies can be spread through saliva, but the occurance of rabies in this area is very rare. It's unlikely your dog has the disease. Has he been vaccinated for rabies?
Creepy Dude: Nah. I don't believe in givin' 'em shots like 'at. Well, that's all I needed. Thank ya.
*Click*



Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Come to the Real World

I wish I could slap the stupid right outta people. Wouldn't that be an awesome super power? Excuse me? Ms. Lohan? You said that "Rehab was a sobering experience." The hell? Really?! Did you really just say that!? You know what? Come here. Just a little bit clos - SMACK!  I want to tell everyone to man up. Put on your big girl panties and deal with it.It's hight time to take some responsibility for yourself and grow up and join Adulthood in the Real World. It's not a cult. I promise.
Here in the Real World, we have Responsibilities. We have to work so we can support ourselves and our families.  We have Real Bills that have to be paid or else the Real Electricity gets Real shut off.  Of course, if someone said, "Hey,you should stop working. You should just sit at home and not work, and not give back to society and we'll still pay you! We're gonna make everyone else work so they can support you in NOT working!" I would jump at the chance. But, here in the Real World with my Real Mortgage, that just doesn't happen.
No, it's not easy living here. Your actions directly affect other people - whether you intend for them to or not. Here, you must take responsibility for yourself and you can't blame other people for your mistakes. Here you are expected to be independent and make your own way without depending on the Government to bail you out \. (I'm not knocking government aid. I've been there, I used it when I needed it, and quit using it when I didn't. I was also REALLY WORKING when I used it, and REAL TAXES got taken out of my REAL PAYCHECK to help fund those aid programs.)  
Here in the Real World, we have things called Budgets, Deductibles, and Interest Rates. Sometimes it's necessary to take a job that pays less than you'd prefer, or keep a job that you desperately want to quit. At least, that's the way it is here. In the Real World.
I know it seems like such a strange and foreign land, but you don't need a Passport or airfare even to get here. All you have to do is start taking a little bit of responsibility for yourself. You do that, and you earn so much more than residency of the Real World.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

2001: A Stace Odyssey

Today it happened.
I made the snowy journey to the mailbox and I saw it - staring at me.
I got my invitation to my ten year high school reunion.
Ten years.
10.
5+5.
5x2.
That's a whole decade we're talking about.
That includes:
2 Presidential terms.
2 Summer Olympics. (Probably 2 Winter Olympics, but seriously, who really keeps up with the Winter Olympics?)
The number one song in 2001 was "Lady Marmalade."
"A Beautiful Mind" took home the Oscar for Best Picture.
According to Nielsen, "Friends" was the most watched show of 2001.
Seriously, it hasn't been 10 years already has it? Has it? Am I really that old? Yes, yes and yes.
*Sigh*
I will admit I have had mixed feelings about this whole thing. Part of me is all "Yeah! Woohoo! A ten year reunion will be awesome! I can show everybody how I'm the same size I was in high school and the wonders of modern orthodontics! It'll be awesome because I've gotten so freakin' awesome!"  And then the other part of me is all like "C'mon, now. You're really not that sure of yourself at all. In fact, you're just thinking those things to mask your insecurities. Seriously. Let's think about this. You keep up with everyone you want to on Facebook - and you just stalk the ones that you don't want keeping up with you."
Eh.
I will go. And I will make Chris go. And we will both go looking damn good and dapper. And I will be excited about it - but only because I'm going to get to spend some good quality time with friends that haven't all been together in 10 years. And maybe just a little because I am freaking awesome.

Don't worry. I'll blog about it.

Monday, February 7, 2011

I hope she doesn't get a cavity in her cavity

I was cruising on my awesome Netflix app on my iPhone. In the "Horror" genre - which, I honestly don't even know why I was looking there; I think horror movies are stupid - I stumbled across this gem:


Do you realize what this means?! This means that not only did someone come up with the idea for this movie, but someone paid to have this movie made. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when this cinematic masterpiece was pitched. And, who would you see for this condition? Like, what kind of specialty doctor? A dentist? A gynecologist? I'm pretty sure there aren't people out there that specialize in both. Could you imagine calling to set up that appointment?
"Hi, I need to make an appointment to have my vagina's teeth cleaned."
Let's just hope she was lucky enough that her teeth came in straight. Braces would suck.


Saturday, February 5, 2011

Folk Implosion is romantic

*This blog has a soundtrack! Play the Youtube video while you read.*





I found a stack of cds last night. 
I know what you're thinking. 
You're thinking : Stacey! Nooo! Didn't you learn anything from  your previous compact disc discoveries?
Actually, I deliberately found them.  I was looking for them. You see, about a year and a half ago, Chris told me "You should back up your pictures off of your laptop."  He told me this lots of times, and I ignored him lots and lots of times. Because that's what you do when you're married. And finally one day, for some reason, I gave in. Any by that I mean I told him to do it himself. And he did. Because that's what any good husband would do if they knew what was good for them.  He put them all on cds for me, and even labeled them appropriately so there were no surprises when I popped those suckers in the disc tray.  
Now, read this closely because I might not ever ever ever express this again. I might even deny writing this, but for now, I will say that I am glad my husband backed up everything for me I listened to my husband and had him back all of my pictures of. He was right. What? Oh, that was nothing. Keep reading. ---> This way.  Anyway, less than a week after the big back-up, my laptop crashed out of nowhere. It blue-screen-of-death crashed. I lost everything on my hard drive.  Thanks to my handy-dandy husband, all of my beloved pictures and videos were saved on cds.
And then, after the Super Save, stuff kinda got nuts. The cds got put into a case, that got put into our sad little excuse for a computer desk that got cleaned out and rummaged through when the drawer fell off. It fell off. It. Fell. Off.  It fell the frick off.  And who knows where they have been hiding for the past year or so.
Until I made the discovery last night.
I guess with all this Valentine's Day stuff everywhere, it got me feeling nostalgic and I decided to look for the cds that contained some pictures of Chris and I pre-marriage.
They were all on a spindle, each one with it's cute little label that Chris had written in sharpie for me.  And there, tucked in between "Wedding and Honeymoon Pictures" and "Hot Air Balloon and Summer 2008", were two cds that made me smile.
For an instant, I turned into a giggling teenage girl. I'm such a sap. Okay, for longer than an instant. I have a vagina. It's allowed.
These were music cds that Chris and I made each other when we first started dating.
We both had very very different tastes in music. He listened to a whole genre of bands that I had never even heard of. I listened to classic rock and terrible stuff from the nineties.  So, in an effort to sorta get to know each other better, we both made the other person a music cd of songs we liked at that time. They weren't love songs, or even the least bit romantic. He had given me a cd with bands like The New Amsterdams, The Starting Line and Copeland. I gave him a cd with artists like America, Ted Nugent, and Folk Implosion. 
These were songs that I listened to not only because I liked them, but because Chris liked them. These were the songs that we listened to. These were songs that we blasted in his Mustang with the top down on a spontaneous trip to the Opryland Hotel in Nashville one night because Chris had never been. These were the songs he would sing loudly and passionately every time one of them would play. These are the songs I will always remember and associate them with that time in our lives when we didn't have any other responsibilities and it was just us.

Happy Not Valentine's Day, my dearest husband. I love you!









Tuesday, February 1, 2011

I'll just blame it on the phlegm

About a month ago my mom gave me a box of stuff from my childhood that she had found in the garage. It wasn't a big box, but its contents were still plenty embarrassing.  There were baby pictures, several books that I just omigosh had to have from the book-fair, my parent's wedding album, report cards, a "journal" (I only wrote two entries and they were about Billy Ray Cyrus. I'm not kidding.)

And then I dug out this gem: a 4th grade progress from the fall of 1992.


Now, I was never a great student. I was a good kid, just not a good student. I did enough to get by. I was shy and a little socially awkward during my elementary years. Okay, okay, so I was socially awkward up until.... well,  I may still be a tad. But I digress.  This progress report, while it may be from the 4th grade, pretty much still holds true today.
Notice my handy dandy little scale up in the corner. I knew someday I'd need to know what the pluses and checks meant.


Reading - + Stacey's comprehension is progressing.
Yep. I read. I comprehend. It progresses. Pretty much true today.
Spelling - *check mark* Study your word list daily for the weekly test on Friday.
This might explain my dependency on spell check. I blame the lack of studying on phlegm. 
Language - +
Yep. I can speak it and comprehend it. I just can't spell it.
Math - *check mark* Stacey isn't as comfortable with problem solving and some math concepts.
I. Hate. Math. I've always hated math - especially problem solving because I can't just type it into a calculator. That's because I'm lazy.
I have no idea what "Theme related activities" means for Social Studies and Science/Heath. 

Ah, now onto my work habits.


Oh, do you need to refer to my chart?



So, basically, I work well in groups (because someone else can problem solve and spell the work that I can't understand) and I follow directions. (As long as I'm not distrac- ugh, I need to put a new light bulb in the light fixture over the kitchen table.)

And then' there's that big long letter on the side. Yikes. Yeah. That was my first thought, too. It's never a good thing when a teacher writes something that lengthy on a progress report. 


It reads: 
Dear Family,
Stacey is a very sweet girl. She brings kindness and joy to my classroom. 
I'm concerned about Stacey's distractability. Some days she is unfocused to the point that she hears very little of the class discussions.  Also she is disorganized at times, misplaces work and has a very slow start on her assignments.  Is there a physical problem that you're aware of - allergies, sinus problems? Please call for a conference so we can make plans to help Stacey early in the school year.

Sinus problems? Really? Does phlegm cause distractablity and disorganization in 4th graders?  Can you say Ritalin candidate? 


What's really interesting is that everything on that report pretty much still true to my life almost 20 years later. 


I'm totally going to start blaming stuff on my phlegm from now on.