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Things Driving Me Crazy Today

Maybe the cold and snow are finally getting to me. Things seem to be extra irritating. Here are a few things on my s*** list today:

People who type “Hahahah”, leaving off the final “a”. Did the person stop breathing mid-laugh? Should I call 9-1-1?
People who stand directly behind me during a class at the gym. Hey! I got here early enough to set up my own personal space. Get the hell away from my lunge zone!!

(Excuse me!! Do I know you?)

Standing in an elevator with strangers. Don’t know where to look. Don’t know what to say. So I just make tiny “meow” sounds.
Forgetting my grocery list and trying to remember what I was supposed to buy.
Sour cream hidden in food.
Sitting in the back seat. Especially when the front windows are open.
Always looking like a “before” ad for makeovers.
Not being a millionaire.
When I take a bite of pizza and all the hot cheese and toppings slide off the crust and melt to my chin.
Picking up the frozen dog poop that’s been buried under the snow for two months.

(Underneath this beautiful snowscape is two tons of frozen dog poo.)

When stores put stickers on glass picture frames–and you can never. get. the. residue. off. the. glass.
The Utah Legislature. (I know, I’ve mentioned this one before. But it still fits.)
When my “check engine” light comes on. I tend to read it like, “Engine. Check!”
Movies about teenage vampires.

That’s it for today. Maybe I’ll have more patience tomorrow.

Romantic Ideas for Valentine’s Day

As most of you know, I’m as far from romantic as I could possibly be. (See Romance 101.) But each February I attempt to bring a modicum of romance to Valentine’s Day. (Modicum definition: smidgen—or a solitary carnivore in the weasel family. I never remember.)

(A modicum in its natural habitat.)

I scour websites for ways to show my hubbie I love him. I try to avoid anything that involves a) public nudity, b) photography, c) snake handling, d) McDonald’s–or any combination of the above.

Here are some “romantic” things I’ll do for my husband this Valentine’s Day:

Hide notes for him around the house. I tried this once using words made from cut-up magazines and newspapers, with a demand for new shoes–or his favorite golf club would disappear forever. He didn’t find it romantic at all.
Attend a public event without whining. My husband is uber-social. He likes people. So, just for this special day, I’ll go to a public event without complaining, begging to leave or sulking in the bathroom. Probably.
Kiss him in an unusual place. Maybe I didn’t understand this one correctly, but I guess kissing him by the garbage cans didn’t count.
Watch golf with him without complaining. Are you kidding?!?! I think that’s going a little too far. . .
Wear some sexy lingerie. He really will enjoy this. But he’d probably enjoy it more if my idea of “sexy” lingerie didn’t include any T-shirt that doesn’t have a ketchup stain. And fluffy pajama pants. And fuzzy socks.

(I’m sexy and I know it.)

Surprise him with a fun gift. I really hope he likes the new yoga pants I bought him. And matching earrings.
Wink at him seductively when you’re at a public event. (Assuming I’m not hiding in the bathroom.) The last time I tried winking seductively, he thought I was having a stroke and drove me to the ER.
Initiate sex. I can’t do this without giggling. So, in a Pavlovian effect, every time I giggle, my husband starts getting undressed.

I think I’ll just stick with the basics: candy, card, a passionate kiss and a sincere, “I love you.” That should do it.

A Handy Guide for Winters in Utah

Unless you’re a skier, snowboarder, ice fisherman, Eskimo or professional snowman assembler, Utah winters suck.

Since I’m none of those things, I’m also homebound. Of course, I could go out and try a snow sport, but that would involve putting on ski pants, gloves, scarves, boots, thermal underwear, ear muffs and parkas. By the time I’m ready to go out in the snow, I’m too tired–and weigh an additional 4o pounds.

(Playing in the snow or deep-sea diving?)

For those of you unfamiliar with winter (I hate you), I’ll define some key words to help you understand Utah winters–and why I should move to a warmer climate.

Inversion: Every winter, a science fiction-ish fog settles in the Salt Lake Valley, choking our lungs and robbing us of sunshine for weeks on end. The Utah Legislature also convenes during this time. Coincidence? I think not.

(See the pretty cloud cover? Yeah, the entire city is buried under that gunk cloud.)

Salt: To keep our streets ice-free (and tasty) road crews sprinkle TONS of salt on Utah freeways so our cars don’t careen off overpasses. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But, by February, every car in the state is coated with a fine film of salt that slowly corrodes all metal, leaving a rusty shell of a vehicle. The Utah Legislature also convenes during this time. Coincidence? I think not.

Commuter Special: This highly irritating term was created by Utah meteorologists to laughingly describe a storm that hits during morning or evening rush hours. (Hahaha! That’s hilarious.) So far this year, every storm has hit during rush hour. Not quite so special anymore. So shut the hell up, weathermen.

(Just another day in paradise. Did I say paradise? I meant hell.)

Lake Effect Snow: Ah, the Great Salt Lake. Good for absolutely nothing except farming brine shrimp. This is the snowstorm after the original snowstorm, caused by the Great Salt Lake trying to get our attention.

Winter Storm Warning: This redundant term is used when heavy snow is expected. In Utah, it’s also called December, January, February, March, April, May and June.

Shoveling Snow: Touted as a “great workout” by those who can’t afford environmentally-damaging snow blowers. This is bull****. Shoveling snow sucks. And snow plow drivers enjoy pushing snow back onto sidewalks that were just shoveled. I hate them.

(I do not LMFAO while shoveling. Or Shuffling.)

Snow blizzards, warnings, advisories, flurries, etc. Weather synonyms thrown out by meteorologists when they can’t just say “snow storm.”

If you’re lucky enough to live in a snowless area (I hate you), count your blessings. If you’re in Utah, keep smiling. June is only five months away.

Top 5 Important Body Parts for Writers

There are specific body parts that writers need in order to create inspirational, humorous, or brilliant literary works of art. You’d think those body parts would include fingers or hands. You would be incorrect. Several other body parts are seriously engaged in the writing process, and writers would be lost without them.

(Fingers, by themselves, can’t do s***.)

In no order of importance:

Fingernails: Writers need fingernails to drum on the table while they ponder their next brilliant sentence. The longer the nails, the better for drumming, my dear. (Studies show the most common rhythm tapped on desks is “Shave and a haircut, two bits.” I guess it’s a writer thing.) (You know you totally just did it.)

Elbows: It’s important to rest your elbow (or elbows) on your desk, with your hand(s) under your chin(s) as you stare at a computer screen, waiting for inspiration to hit. Without elbows, you’d have to rest your chin on the desk–and that’s way too much effort.

(I can’t tell if she’s resting on her elbows or pulling out her hair. Either way, she must be a writer.)

Butt/Tush: I know studies show that sitting for long periods of time is hazardous to your health. But if writers didn’t have butts to sit on, we would certainly find another way to slouch through our assignments. Lying on the floor comes to mind–only because I’m lying on the floor.

Forehead: When writer’s block hits (and don’t tell me it doesn’t exist!) your forehead is invaluable. You can slap your forehead with the palm of your hand (important body part #6) or, in extreme situations, pound your head against the nearest wall. That jarring motion always shakes something loose so ideas can flow again.

(Forehead is also necessary for doing any facepalms while frustrated.)

Mouth: Not only do writers mumble while they’re working but many writers like to read their work out loud (mostly so they can say they held a “reading” with their work.) The mouth is also necessary for shoving food into (chips, cookies, Hershey’s Kisses, donuts, etc.) when writers get tired of doing their job. (Teeth, tongue and lips are included in this category.)

So as you’re writing the next great American novel (or blog post), notice which body parts you haven’t thanked recently, and make it a point to do something nice for those parts. Like give them all a nap.

How to Prepare for the Oscars

Every year, Hollywood holds the Academy Awards so the world can watch wealthy, dysfunctional people pat each other on the back. This year’s list of nominees was just released, and movie critics are appalled/delighted with the potential winners. If the only movie you’ve seen this year was Adam Sandler’s “Jack and Jill,” get off this blog and never come back. But if you’d like to watch the Oscars like a civilized person, you can’t. No one in Hollywood is civilized.

(A long, SNL skit gone horribly wrong.)

However, there are steps you can take to enjoy the Oscars, scheduled for broadcast in February–unless more Mayan conspiracy theories pop up in the next six weeks.

Step 1: Stock up on lots of alcohol for those fun Oscar drinking games, such as, each time someone forgets to thank their spouse–drink up. You’ll be soused before you know it.

Step 2: Watch the nominated movies. Even the ones with subtitles. I don’t read the subtitles but try to guess what they’re saying by watching the reaction of those around them. I somehow never get it right.

(Oh! That’s what that means.)

Step 3: Practice walking in a bosom-revealing gown with five layers of Spanx, stiletto heels and shellacked hair, all while weighed down with millions of dollars in diamonds. And don’t eat for three days. This can give you a little insight into the “reality” of celebrity. (‘Cause doesn’t everyone you know do that?)

Step 4: Brush up on your condescending comments. (You’ll hear several from the losers following the awards program.) Such as:

“It’s not unusual for something brilliant to be disdained.”
“This film was a celebration of life and I am immune to professional criticism.”
“I doubt the American public fully understood the depth of this film.” (Not said by Adam Sandler)
“I felt (insert actor/actress) captured perfectly the nuanced ambiguity of the subject who was completely misunderstood.”

(Future movie critic.)

Step 5: Perfect your red carpet stance. Create a signature look that will embarrass/follow you for the rest of your life. Take your time. This is important.

(You just never know when you’ll start a trend.)

Now you’re ready to watch the 85th Annual Academy Awards in the comfort of your living room. Or leave the TV off and read a book.

Required List of New Year’s Resolutions 2013

I’m not a quitter. So I’m not going to stop eating See’s chocolates for breakfast or reduce the amount of television I watch in 2013. I think instead of quitting things, like swearing and robbing banks, New Year’s resolutions should be about finding new ways to waste time, talent and money–just like the Kardashians!

So, in 2013, I hereby resolve to:

Enroll in air guitar classes.
Figure out what this “video game” fad is all about.
Become a professional organ grinder. (Anyone know where I can buy a cute monkey?)

(Bringing back old-school entertainment. Very old school.)

Learn how to wrangle carts.
Perfect my mime skills. (I’ve learned not to have a real heart attack whilst miming.)
Finalize the plans on my time machine.
Get addicted to Here Comes Honey Boo Boo episodes.

(Because what can’t go wrong here?)

Enter the wild world of snake milkers.
Learn to like kale.
Create a new celebratory gesture. We already have the high-five and the fist bump–how about the ear slap or the knee tap?
Start a movement to bring back Chisenbop.
Buy Hostess and bring back Donettes and Ding Dongs.
Finally read the rules to Monopoly. (I hate that game.)
Pick up some new urban slang so I can talk to my grandkids.
Solve a Rubik’s cube without using a hammer.

(I really hate this little freakin’ cube of frustration and anger.)

Happy New Year!

One Fruitcake Away From a Christmas Meltdown

(Fruitcake: The ultimate Christmas deception. Looks good. Tastes like s***.)

Maybe you haven’t heard, but tomorrow is Christmas. The day when high expectations are smashed against the fiscal cliff. The day when children cry because they didn’t get the RIGHT Barbie doll or video game. (Greedy bastards.)

We dash through the month, doing our shopping, busting our budgets, eating our weight in fudge and toffee, all in preparation for this ONE day of cheer and goodwill. Messed up if you ask me. (But nobody asks me.)

Here are the reasons I’m one fruitcake away from a Christmas meltdown:

I think my shopping is done, only to realize (on Christmas Eve), that I forgot my a) co-workers, b) neighbors, c) pets, d) relatives I haven’t seen in years but will be seeing tomorrow. I start sobbing in my egg nog.
I worry that everyone will think I’m cheap (which I am) and get me crap next year.
I’m so sick of eating chocolate (and that NEVER happens) that if I stuff ONE MORE Hershey’s kiss into my face, my teeth will fall out. And I know I still have to get through tomorrow’s choco-fest.
If I hear one more version of “Deck the Halls”, I’m going to start decking people.
I remember I didn’t send ONE Christmas card. I bought a box of cards last January on clearance, and they’re still sitting (unopened) with my Christmas supplies.
I discover (on Christmas eve around 11 p.m.) I don’t have enough tape to wrap any more presents. My options are a) use duct tape, b) use the stapler or c) say Santa ran out of paper somewhere over France.

(Shut up! Open the present, already. It’s the thought that counts.)

Knowing that on Dec. 26, I’ll vow to start Christmas shopping in January–and knowing that I never will.

If possible, have a Merry Christmas.

Holiday Party Survival Guide

Anyone who knows me is aware that I’m socially inept. Parties, get-togethers, mingles–whatever you want to call it, social interaction gives me hives. I could kick myself for not taking that “How to Make Small Talk” class at the local community college.

(That awkward moment when everybody has said they are “fine”, and there’s nothing else to say.)

And because the holidays are the source of all stress and anger, holiday parties are the worst. Here are some tricks I’ve developed to survive any holiday party situation:

Ask the hostess if you can help. While setting out napkins and toothpicks, you can locate all the exits.
Show up early to greet guests. After you meet each guest, you can know which ones you’ll want to avoid. (For me, this is usually everyone.)
Research a topic and speak about it at length.The longer you speak on a subject, the fewer people will stay around you. By speaking, in-depth, about the discovery of penicillin, you should be all alone within minutes. Mission accomplished.
Don’t dance on the table in your cocktail dress. Unless it’s that kind of party. Then, definitely dance on the table. (Note to self: Make sure to wear underwear.)

(I’m not the one dancing on the table. I’m sitting on the stairs, wishing I was dead.)

Introduce yourself to a stranger. I don’t mean the weird guy sitting in the gutter next to your car, I mean someone at the party who doesn’t know you’re a complete social disaster. He’ll figure it out.
Don’t sing Christmas carols. Self-explanatory and important.
Keep food in your mouth This helps you not make any stupid remarks. Or if you say something stupid, it’s usually unintelligible due to the large amount of crab dip shoved in your face.
Have a signal when you’re ready to leave. If you’re like me and married to a socially responsible person, they’ll probably want to stay and enjoy themselves. My husband and I have worked out a signal so he knows when I’ve had enough. This signal involves me grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of the room. We have a deal that I can’t give him the signal until we’ve been at the party for at least 5 minutes.

Follow these handy tips and you’ll survive the holidays with your sanity, dignity and respect all in place.

I’m Thankful For . . .

If you don’t make a list of things you’re thankful for each November, you’re just an ungrateful, selfish American who probably hates kittens and steps on ladybugs. Bloggers are required by law to make a gratitude list to remind their readers not to be hedonistic during this long, expensive, mentally draining holiday season.

So, here you go.

I’m thankful for:

Electricity. ‘Cause if I had to live like the people in Revolution, I’d be pissed.

(Fighting bad guys without the help of electricity–yet somehow their hair and clothing look really good.)

Pillows.
Gravity.
Pomegranate seeds.
Sleeping babies.
Rabies shots. (For dogs, of course. I hated Old Yeller.)

(Really?!?! He had to shoot his dog. Thanks, Disney, for a lifetime of sadness.)

Chocolate-covered anything.
The end of election season.
Being able to grow a mustache.
Nair.
Llamas with Hats.

(It just never gets old. “Killing people is my least favorite thing to do.”)

Fuzzy, warm socks.
Raspberry fritters.
Colgate.

That sums it up for this year. Have an excellent Thanksgiving!

My 100th Post

If this blog was a television sitcom, I’d be celebrating my 100th episode with big-name guest stars. But since this is only a blog, that’s not gonna happen. I could have invited some guest bloggers to post something . . . or . . . I could do a video montage of past postings set to “The Rose” by Bette Midler.

(Insert video montage here.)

But that sounds like WAAAY too much work. Instead I’ve listed 100 reasons that you should keep reading my blog.

Take your pick:

1. You have nothing else to do.

2. The TV isn’t working.

3. Better than cleaning the floorboards.

4. Can’t sleep.

5. It isn’t quite time for breakfast/lunch/dinner.

6. Beats having a tooth filled.

(I passed out just posting this picture.)

7. The boss isn’t around.

8. It makes you feel superior.

9. You might laugh.

10. If you don’t laugh, you can at least judge me.

11. The kids are taking a nap.

12. You’ve already checked out the really cool blogs.

13. You want me to talk about my crazy-ass dog, Ringo.

(Ringo. Chillin’.)

14. It’s full of factual information.

15. Not.

16. It’s better than regrouting the tile.

17. It keeps you from eating leftover Halloween candy.

18. You might learn something.

19. But, probably not.

20. It keeps you off the streets.

(Fellow journalist.)

21. I get $1 million for each visit to my site.

22. If you stop reading my blog, I’ll become a ghost of a person.

23. It’s a great weight-loss tool.

24. It keeps you from shoplifting.

25. You need a safe place to visit.

26. This is a no-judgement zone.

27. It’s better than having a bladder infection.

28. You can correct my grammar.

29. You can develop a penchant for sarcasm.

30. It goes well with chocolate.

(I want to look like this at least one time per day.)

31. It’s probably snowing.

32. It’s better than going to the OB-GYN.

33. It’s better than a kick in the pants.

Screw it. I can’t think of 100 reasons. Just read this list two more times, add one more reason–and we’ll call it good.

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