Monthly Archives: April 2010

Random + List-y = Randlistomy!

Strategies I use to concentrate on my job that never work on Friday:

  • Listening to TV shows streamed on Netflix to entertain myself while making spreadsheets. (I end up watching. With popcorn.)
  • A reward system: Do x amount of work, get 10 minutes of free internet time. (10 minutes becomes the rest of the day very quickly.)
  • Only do my recreational internetting at lunch. (Just lunch becomes the rest of the day very quickly.)
  • Getting all my recreational internetting out of the way first thing, so I’m not tempted to do it later. (I’m sure you see where that’s going .)

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Names I call my cat that she more-or-less answers to:

  • Kasima
  • Kasima Catinu
  • Kittle (Little + Kitty. I make up a lot of words this way.)
  • Beached Kitty (when she’s all bloated and stretched out on her back)
  • Hey You Cat
  • My property (Yes, I call her this on a semi-regular basis so she doesn’t get uppity.)

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Names I never call my cat:

  • Her actual name

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Mitch Hedberg non sequiturs that I always want to throw out in conversation, but never do because I know no one would get it but me:

  • Red means where the fuck did you get that banana at.
  • A message of hope from your friends at Yoplait.
  • Don’t even act like I didn’t get that donut.
  • Man, you really like Tide.
  • That tree is far away!

Speaking of Mitch Hedberg, I have a pair of panties signed by him.

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Other celebrities I want to have sign my panties:

  • Craig Ferguson
  • Jon Stewart
  • Eddie Izzard
  • David Letterman
  • Conan O’Brien
  • Amy Sedaris
  • Kristen Wiig
  • Tina Fey
  • Bill Murray

No, Jason Bateman is not on this list. I’d be way too embarrassed.

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Super powers I’d never want to have:

  • Immortality
  • X-ray vision
  • Laser vision
  • Anything with weird vision, really
  • The power to control sea creatures
  • Seismology-related powers
  • Telepathy

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Seemingly lame super powers I’d like to have:

  • Anything weather-related. I would totally spend all day lying on my back in my yard, making tornadoes in the sky.
  • Super hearing. Yes, I like to eavesdrop. I don’t care if that makes me nosy. I want to hear what you’re saying.
  • The power to kill people with my hair.

Basically, I don’t want to make a career out of my super ability. I’d rather keep it as a hobby.

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That’ll do it for today, folks. Feel free to add a random list of your own in the comments. Or feel free to just read and not comment, like you were never here at all.

Are you ashamed to be seen with me?

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Thursday is the longest day of the week.

You may notice that I have a new title. I’m taking it for a test drive. Even though nobody voted for it (except me), and my husband thinks I’m far too lazy to have the title of Empress, I like it. I may try out the others later, or I may lose interest in this discussion altogether and leave Empress up out of half-laziness, half-absent-mindedness. (Interestingly, this mirrors my exact genetic makeup. I’m half lazy and half absent-minded. I never get anything done.)

By the way, don’t be hurt if I didn’t choose the one you voted for (or the one you thought to yourself, “Oh, I like that one,” but then you didn’t comment. Yeah. I know you did that. I see all).

See, the way I make decisions is, I narrow down my list of options, then I ask someone’s opinion to see what my reaction is.

Like, say I’m getting dressed for an event of some kind, but I can’t decide between my green dress or my white dress. I’ll ask my husband. And he’ll say, “I like them both.” And I’ll say, “No, you have to pick one.” Then he’ll say, “What about the red dress?” And I’ll say, ‘I can’t wear that out of the house, it’s too tight.” And he’ll say, “I think it looks good,” and he sort of leers when he says it. Then I stare blankly at him. So then he says, “Green,” but I can tell he’s just picking the one that’s closest to him, so I say, “No, really, pick one.” And then he starts telling me about some video game news that he read online today, and we get into a whole other conversation that lasts until it’s almost time to leave for whatever event we’re going to, and I still haven’t picked a dress, so I text one of my friends, and she says, “White.”

Here, one of two things can happen:

  1. I say, “Yeah, you’re right, white it is.”
  2. Or I say, “White? Really? But what about the green?”

Of course, I go with number 2, because the green dress is way more appropriate for this event (the white one is really a day dress), and I really wanted to wear the green one the whole time. But I didn’t know that until I asked someone else’s opinion and they disagreed.

So, basically, when I asked everyone’s opinion about the titles, and my husband called me a lazy bastard who’d never live up to the title of Empress (I’m paraphrasing), I realized that’s the title I wanted all along.

By the way, this post makes absolutely perfect sense. If you find it confusing, you probably have a brain tumor. You should get that checked.

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It’s called Regal Name Augmentation

I’ve decided I need a royal title, but I can’t decide which one I want. Help me sort through them, won’t you?

Lady – Meh. Kinda weak-sounding. I mean, it doesn’t even always mean royalty. Plus it carries the expectation of primness, which I won’t be able to deliver.

Lord – Too much religious connotation. That’s out.

Baroness – There’s a lot to like about this one. It just sounds fun. But I can’t help feeling like…this is the title of a fat woman. I may be having some trouble fitting into my pants, but I’m not ready to commit to being fat. I’ve still got time.

Baron – I like this one a little more. I think the fat thing goes away, because of the Red Baron, a pizza pilot who wore a red scarf, and was quite trim. Also, it reminds me of the prohibition episode of The Simpsons. This one’s still on the table.

Countess – This one’s just okay. But I like:

Contessa – which is just the Italian version of Countess, I know. But it’s so much fun to say, don’t you think?

Count – Again, just okay, but it does have vampire and puppet associations, so it could be good for intimidating my enemies. I guess that means I need to keep it on the table.

Marquis/Marchioness – I like Marquis. I could be Marquis de Lindsay. Associations with Marquis de Sade don’t trouble me, really. Marchioness doesn’t really call out to me though.

Duke/Duchess – These are kind of boring, which is so at odds with the point of having a royal title. No need to consider them further.

Viscount/Viscountess/Viscontessa? – These sound cool, until you learn they’re the Associate Producer credit of royal titles. Next.

Earl – This one has a lot of connection with food and drink. Earl Grey. Earl of Sandwich. But the title itself isn’t super-exciting. Is there a girl version, like Earless? Ew, that looks like ear-less. I don’t want people assuming I don’t have ears. Earlienne? Kind of sounds like a name from the twenties. I like names from the twenties, but I need it to sound like a title. Earltrix? I could be an Earltrix. But I don’t think people would get it. Hmm, might have to think about this one.

Prince/Princess – I’m not too keen on the idea of taking a title where you have to wait for someone to die to get any real power. Plus, I’m not on My Super Sweet 16, so I don’t think I’m allowed to be called a “Princess.”

King/Queen – At first glance, these seem like the best titles. They’re at the top, which is attractive, sure. But I immediately think of chess. The Queen has a lot of power in chess, but in real life, if there’s a king, she doesn’t really get a say. Then there’s the king. In real life, he’s at the top no matter what, but in chess, he can only move one space in each direction. One space. That makes me feel a little claustrophobic. I don’t think I can sign off on either of these.

Emperor/Empress – Now these, I like. Powerful. The top of the pyramid. And they don’t have to come with any annoying royal family. This is also the only one where the girl version seems to have just as much power as the boy version. Plus, it’s prettier. Emmmmpresssssss. Power and femininity. I like it.

Pope – The pope is the only true sovereign on the planet. He only answers to god. But I really don’t want to align myself with such an unsavory character. Very bad PR.

So, we have:

  • Baron
  • Contessa
  • Count
  • Marquis
  • Earltrix
  • Empress

I need some help deciding. Thoughts, opinions, comments? Please let me know what you think.

By the way, you can apparently actually get a royal title over the internet.  I’m not quite eccentric enough to get a royal title for real, despite all the free shit I can scam off rich people if I do.

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Interim Post

Okay, I promoised myself that I’d post something on here at least three times a week, but this week is looking pretty busy, and also I don’t have any ideas for a post right now.

But, since I don’t want to leave you high and dry, go here and spend a few hours of your life. That’s what I’m planning to do sometime later this week, when I have a few hours of life to spare.

Ta!

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Like a bird in a whale’s mouth. Now it’s in the title. There, Google, is that what you wanted?

I’m currently having a clothing crisis where none of my pants fit me anymore, but I’m too lazy to exercise. I predict this stalemate will last until I have enough money to buy new pants.

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My phone at work is super static-y. I’ve been raised by television and movies to believe that this means my phone is tapped. I’m sure it’s because of all that stuff I said on twitter while Barack Obama was one of my followers.

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I didn’t say anything too terrible. But I think I did talk about blowing stuff up once or twice. I was just joking, Barack. I figured you’d have a sense of humor about it.

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I’m the only person who works in my office, so a lot of the time I’ll take off my shoes and walk around barefoot. And I sometimes wear tank tops with little sweaters over them, but if it gets too hot, I’ll take the sweater off. And because of the pants issue, I walk around with my pants unbuttoned. So what I’m saying is, if you stop by my office, I’ll essentially be half-naked.

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“Like a bird in whale’s mouth” still has no google hits. But I’ve put it on this blog – twice. It’s on the internet, Google. Stop trying to thwart my plan by refusing to show it in search results. And also, stop trying to prevent me from getting new blog readers who searched for the phrase “like a bird in a whale’s mouth.” Let’s work together, Google.

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From now on, any time I insult someone, I’m going to add, “Also, your face is stupid.” It’s like a bonus insult. And their face probably is stupid.

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Please continue the randomness in the comments. All four of you who read this.

UPDATE: Google listened! That was instant.  Hooray for technology!

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Keep going all the way to the end. It gets better at the end.

When I was in elementary, junior high, and high school, I was in the gifted and talented program. It kind of attaches certain expectations to you, whether you want them or not. Like you’re going to do great things. Then, in high school, I took the most challenging curriculum my small school offered, and took some college classes for dual credit. People were expecting success from me.

Then I went to college. I wasn’t very good at college. Specifically, I wasn’t very good at making it to class. So I stopped going altogether.

I needed money, so I got a job waiting tables at a 24-hour mexican restaurant near my home town, and moved back in with my parents. It had been a few years since high school at this point, and occasionally I’d see people I went to school with. It was always quick conversations, then they’d go their way, and I’d go mine.

I was feeling like a pretty gigantic failure at this point in my life. But I had good friends and a little disposable income, so I’d found a kind of equilibrium between pride and shame.

Then, one day, I waited on someone I went to school with. He was also in the gifted and talented program, but he was a few years younger than me, and had been teased pretty heavily throughout high school. We were very pleasant to each other, to the point where I wasn’t sure if he even recognized me. Then, as he was leaving, he leaned over to his (I guess) girlfriend, and said – in a totally non-whispery voice – “That girl used to be in Gifted and Talented.”  Then they both laughed derisively at me.

So I turned to the guy and said, “Yeah, I’m a waitress now, which I guess makes me the lowest form of life to walk on two legs, but at least I’m still smart enough to get OUT OF FUCKING EARSHOT BEFORE I TALK SHIT ABOUT SOMEONE I’M STANDING RIGHT THE FUCK IN FRONT OF.”

Just kidding. I didn’t yell at him. I was at work. I didn’t want to get in trouble, or make my other tables uncomfortable. Although, this is a restaurant where the married owner regularly asked me (and other waitresses) out for drinks while his wife was cooking in the kitchen. So, looking back, I don’t think it would have caused me any problems.

I really regretted not saying anything. For years, I carried it around with me. Why didn’t I stand up for myself?

Then, a couple years ago, I was home visiting friends and went to a fast food restaurant, and guess who took my order?

Yep, that guy.

I know what you’re thinking, but no, I didn’t say anything to him. I could tell just by looking at him that he felt ashamed. I don’t know if he was ashamed because he remembered talking shit about me years ago, or if he was just feeling like a gigantic failure because he was working at a fast food joint 20 miles from where he graduated high school. I felt like life had given him his comeuppance.

Plus, I like to feel like I’m the bigger person. And I like the person I’m bigger-personing to feel like I’m the bigger person, so they feel even more ashamed. Maybe that cancels out my intial bigger-personhood, but I have to get some joy from these situations. Stop judging me.

Also, years later, I published a blog post detailing what an asshole that guy was. But I didn’t reveal his name. Because I’m the bigger person.

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List-y

I’m very easily influenced. I’m that person who buys cleaning products because the packaging is really cute. Here’s a list of things I want to do because I saw it on tv or in a movie:

  • Cut bangs. (500 Days of Summer, the last two seasons of Gilmore Girls)
  • Play baseball. In a skirt. (A League of Their Own)
  • Join a roller derby team. (Whip It)
  • Be the best goddamn dancer in the American Ballet Academy. (Center Stage)
  • Eat a huge plate of pasta. (Defending Your Life. Watch it and tell me you don’t feel the same.)
  • Go shopping. (Unnamed Hugh Jackman/Anne Hathaway Project)
  • Start a crime syndicate. (The Godfather Part II)
  • Go on a road trip. (Any movie with a road trip)
  • Pick up hitchhikers. (Thelma and Louise)
  • Not pick up hitchhikers. (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)
  • Live in Baltimore. (Hairspray. Both versions. And Pecker.)
  • Throw a drink in someone’s face. (How I Met Your Mother)
  • Have sex with a vampire. (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
  • Be best friends with Abed. (Community)
  • Break shit. (Zombieland)
  • Blow shit up. (Mythbusters)
  • Shoot a guy. (Thelma and Louise again)
  • Shoot lots of guys. (True Lies)
  • Never try heroin. (Trainspotting)
  • Experience space travel. (Galaxy Quest)
  • Never experience space travel. (Alien, et al.)
  • Be best friends with a robot. (Futurama. Also, Terminator 2. He’ll kill all your enemies. My friends say they’ll do that, but they have yet to act on it.)
  • Give an inspiring speech. (Braveheart)
  • Wear face paint. (Braveheart)
  • Defeat the British. (Braveheart. No offense, in-laws. Love ya!)
  • Marry Jason Bateman (Everything ever. This is a constant state of being.)

Some of these I’ve done. I’ll let you figure out which ones.

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