Why Pumpkin Carving is the Business

1. You get to use your hands and touch creepy, gooey, gut-like substances which makes you feel for a few moments like you are not a grown-up
2. You get to saw at things that have a satisfying, hollow, reverberating sound to them
3. You get to put fire inside a vegetable to make art (who thought of this??)
4. Pumpkin seeds
5. Pumpkin pie
6. Standing in your driveway at 9:00 pm admiring your own creative prowess
7. Fun shit like ghosts and bats
8. Pumpkin seeds.

**Actual Ghost-Pumpkin 2010 pictured above. Booyah.

My Secret Skill

I am an athlete. Maybe not in the conventional sense, but my athleticism is derived from an innate skill, a true gift. The arena for my talent is limited, but each time I get to use it, I get a sense of true accomplishment and serenity.

From the toilet, I can sink my tampon wrapper into the trashcan EVERY time. Nothing. But. Net.

This skill is not celebrated as it should be. In fact, were I to bring this up in polite company, I would no doubt be ostracized. I want my day in the sun. But for now, I will just have to be content that I know my own secret. And now so do you 7. And anyone ingenious enough to search crap on the internet.

Death by Stupid or: How the Food Network Led to the Fall of Man

I recently enrolled in a baking class, and have come to witness yet another way in which TV (my first love) is causing society to degenerate. Goddamn cooking shows.

Look people, we all paid a lot of money to be here, there is no reason to be rushing around shoving each other, watering counters in vanilla extract and behaving as though eggs are New Year’s Eve poppers. And just because running with knives is super dangerous and tricky, does not mean it will be extra rewarding if you make it. It just makes you extra dumb.

Also I make a damn fine streusel muffin. Did I mention I’m getting fat?

The Undie Approximation

I just went to Austin, TX on business and it reminded me that I have an important packing tip to share with ya’ll (some Texan vernacular I picked up while in the region):

You can never pack too much underwear.

I don’t want to even get into the amount of crazy nonsense that can go wrong, requiring you to change your undies, but let’s just say when you get home after a trip where you had too much BBQ and sweet tea, got into a cab in the middle of nowhere, took said cab down a dark, winding road for 40 minutes while your cab driver spouts political ideology in a Borat-esque accent causing you to laugh so hard you pee your pants a little… you aren’t going to go to unpack and say to yourself “Ef. I packed too much underwear”.

Here’s why I don’t care about your boyfriend

1. He’s your boyfriend

2. He’s not my boyfriend

3. You get to have sex on a regular basis

4. Whatever it is, it’s probably your fault (quit harassing the poor guy)

5. Unless he’s actually beating you, anything he does is worth an automatic date to work functions/family functions/casual acquaintances’ birthdays/religious events

6. At some point, because of him, I will have to watch/hear/be exposed to sports

7. You make nauseating faces when you check your text messages

8. Please see 3.

Evolving Elevators

Other people at work may wonder - why does she park directly next to the elevator on the first floor of the parking structure? Convenience mainly, but also something more. People get all ambitious taking the stairs at work, choosing stairs at the mall, purposefully parking farther away than necessary to ensure they get the maximum amount of “exercise” in their day.

Really though, this is akin to slapping evolution in the face. Millions of years ago an amoeba emerged from the primordial ooze, then there were chimps, then us (dinosaurs and mammoths were in there somewhere as well). And then one day, one of us invented the goddamn elevator. A tiny room that transports you where you want to go, while you just stand there. And you are going to purposefully avoid it?? I hope a chimp spanks you with a tree branch. I’m a better human than you.

Childhood

Things that didn’t make sense when I was a kid (and to be honest still kind of don’t) –

1. The significance of numbers on sports jerseys
2. Why, if there is an incredibly long line at a store, you can’t just pick up what you want, throw more than that amount of cash onto the register, and walk out
3. How sea cucumbers vomit up all of their internal organs as a decoy and survive to make more
4. Rap music
5. Why you can’t use your textbook during a test
6. Spam (the canned meat)
7. How do several thousand/million ton metal objects stay in the sky (airplanes) or above water (boats)
8. Belly buttons

The Customer Is Always An Idiot

Why is stellar customer service so incredibly effective? It is almost as if I forget the person is being so nice to me because I have already paid them or they are hoping to make some/a little/a lot of money off of me. It is almost as if I forget what it was like to be a personal shopper myself.

Suddenly I think:

Yes! I DO look amazing in this dress!
Yes! I CAN afford to buy 9 colors of nail polish right now!
How have I lived this long WITHOUT this insanely sophisticated cell phone??

Thank you for convincing me to spend what little money I have on completely useless shit. Really, thank you.

Why I Deserve to Be Fat

Last night I went to the gym. It was my first time at a new gym, so I didn't really have a routine yet. I got into the locker room (which was a little skuzzy), and began to change into comfy workout clothes. It then occurred to me that I did not have a padlock for one of the many lockers. Obviously I was not about to leave my purse inside the locker of a skuzzy locker room, that is just asking for trouble. So I resolved to continue changing and bring my stuff back to my car when I was done.

Then I realized I had no socks. I had no lock and no socks. So I finished changing, put my bare feet into running shoes – ick – and began the walk back to my car.

The walk back to my car is long. At least 3 minutes long. So obviously I got to my car, said “fuck it” and drove home. And ate 4 scones in the car.

(Please see entry title)

Small Fish, Big Castle

I regretfully inform the milleniallity readership that Solomon (Sol) Jose passed in the early morning on Sunday, October 10, 2010.

He was a good betta fish, and he will be remembered. Whether he was sucking tiny fish food pellets into his mouth and then spitting them back out, playing with a laser pointer, or just hanging out, he was spreading joy with every little glub and bloop.

I would also recommend to all current and future betta owners, consider the size of your castle before you purchase. Apparently, it is possible for them to be too big.

My Very Own Nobel

I think one of my greatest skills is the ability to dramatically, accurately, and humorously (when appropriate) recount each and every episode of “Intervention” ever produced. I bring people together, engaging them in a dialogue about substance abuse and the inherent entertainment value of Christy, and her naked, satanic, geometry proofs or Allison and her huffing-induced vocal gymnastics.
I maintain a delicate balance between genuine compassion and giddy enthusiasm, and I take you along for the ride. Pretty sure I should’ve gotten the Nobel today. Well deserved self.

My So Called Talent

Thank god I am not a musician. Besides lacking the more obvious talents (ability to play an instrument, read music, sing on key), I am severely lacking in the department of heartbreak. Both giving and receiving. I feel fairly confident in saying my heart has never really been broken, and I would hazard a guess that I have not broken any hearts either.

Nobody with my life would ever write a song because they would be called things like:

“The Brown Spot On My Banana This Morning”

“I Bet You Can’t Do Data Entry This Fast”

“Holy Hell I Just Stubbed My Toe So Bad”

“If My Mom Drunk Dials Me One More Time, I Swear…”

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Annnnnd… we’re back!

Yes, all 5 of my blog-readers (and closest friends), I have not been writing as often as I should have (or at all). This is due mainly to my profound propensity for laziness. A laziness that is really unrivaled in all my experiences and travels. Of course as part of this laziness, there is a preoccupation with making excuses so I should also probably mention I had consumption.

Yup, you read that correctly – consumption. Consumption of the Jane Austen, John Keats, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, “get yourself off the cold, damp, coast of England to hotter, dryer climes” variety of consumption. My eyeballs nearly melted and dripped out of my skull from fever and so I didn’t really feel like sharing my thoughts (such as: ouch, ouch, cough, cough, holy shit I’m tired) with you lot.

And apparently writing in a blog is much like going to the gym or any other activity that is hard to do but ultimately rewarding, in that if you fall out of the habit, it is nearly impossible to take it up again. So in conclusion:

1. lazy

2. consumption

3. lazy

4. I missed you guys too.