Riddle me this: why does the FIRE alarm go off when something's wrong with the WATER valve?
Of course, no one knew it was just the water valve when all hell erupted in my condo hallways twenty minutes ago. So first off, WHY can't there be a quieter, more polite alarm instead? I mean, a fire's pretty serious (hence the shrill screeching), but water is so much more... sophisticated. Instead of blaring beeps through my hallway and flashing lights at this ungodly hour, can't echoes of waterfalls or some other soothing sound gently wake me up instead?
I mean, why doesn't a motherly voice just fade in from the soundspeaker and announce "Excuse me my darling, but there appears to be something wrong with the water valve. We're sure it won't be serious, but just in case, would you mind making your way outside? Thank you and sorry for this rude interruption."
But no.
Instead, I'm torn out of my dreams (in which, for your information, I may or may not have been *this close* to second base with Keira Knightley) by some horrendous siren that sounds like a baby boy wailing at his circumcision.
Needless to say, I'm the first one outside followed by three screwy spinsters and a few other dawdlers (certainly not a condo-full). About ten minutes later, a fire truck shows up.
The fire department, by the way, is across the street. Go figure.
So by now I'm really ticked off. But then, as if some divine sign lit up from the heavens, I spot a cute girl standing all by herself. Maybe this would turn out to be one of those movie things? Perhaps this strange, unexpected event would bring us together somehow. Maybe I'd introduce myself, we'd hit it off, fall in love, discover our differences, overcome obstacles, and ultimately become more in love than ever before -- and all because of this one false fire alarm in the first place :D At the other end of the spectrum, I never see her again -- what's there to lose?
So I go over, about to say hi, when the fire department announces that we can go back inside. The girl looks up, we make eye contact...
And we both bolt for separate doors.
I didn't get a single word out. Mind you, if I ever want to see her again, I could probably just pull the fire alarm. Or break the water valve.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
All the single ladies
Put your hands down.
No really, you look stupid. Put your goddamn hands down because NEWSFLASH: Beyonce doesn't know what the hell she's talking about.
*deep breaths*
Why?
Because it's a lame nightclub survey with no substance. I'm not just looking for some "single lady", alright? I happen to have dignity. In fact, I might appreciate it if instead the DJ shouted "All the single ladies liking action movies, badminton, and the occasional burger at Fuddruckers put your hands up".
That's something I could work with.
Or even "all the single ladies without syphilis, herpes or warts" would be helpful.
And this goes for your end too, girls, alright? Don't throw your hand up every time you hear 'single ladies' in life, or you'll find yourself in bad bad situations. Be picky, ok? You deserve it! Plus, have you ever considered there's someone out there who's meant for you? I'm not talking soulmate stuff, just wondering how many cool, creative guys who are too nice or too smart to chase around wild, arm-waving girls are left going home alone most nights.
After all, I don't think this is how humans did it through history.
I mean, can you imagine some Renaissance pub with Shakespeare shouting "All thy single ladies, raise thou hands up"? Or how about waaay back in the garden -- how'd Adam ask Eve out? "Umm you, single lady, put your hand up"?! Now that's just rude.
Moral 1 of my sermon: don't trust Beyonce -- apparently she wants to be a boy and have all the single ladies to herself (poor Jay-Z)
Moral 2: take a risk with someone. Sacrifice a night of raving at your favorite nightclub for a cool date with someone new. And if it doesn't work out, so what? At least you'll have had a good supper, or watched a good movie, or at the very least experienced for a split second that nervous, electric feeling in your stomach that happens on dates.
That feeling's a spark, and you can't start a fire without it.
...ok, so that was kinda cheesy. Boo-hoo. Point being, single ladies are going extinct for all the wrong reasons and all the wrong people. Please, have the time of your life -- just try holding hands instead of waving your arms.
No really, you look stupid. Put your goddamn hands down because NEWSFLASH: Beyonce doesn't know what the hell she's talking about.
*deep breaths*
Why?
Because it's a lame nightclub survey with no substance. I'm not just looking for some "single lady", alright? I happen to have dignity. In fact, I might appreciate it if instead the DJ shouted "All the single ladies liking action movies, badminton, and the occasional burger at Fuddruckers put your hands up".
That's something I could work with.
Or even "all the single ladies without syphilis, herpes or warts" would be helpful.
And this goes for your end too, girls, alright? Don't throw your hand up every time you hear 'single ladies' in life, or you'll find yourself in bad bad situations. Be picky, ok? You deserve it! Plus, have you ever considered there's someone out there who's meant for you? I'm not talking soulmate stuff, just wondering how many cool, creative guys who are too nice or too smart to chase around wild, arm-waving girls are left going home alone most nights.
After all, I don't think this is how humans did it through history.
I mean, can you imagine some Renaissance pub with Shakespeare shouting "All thy single ladies, raise thou hands up"? Or how about waaay back in the garden -- how'd Adam ask Eve out? "Umm you, single lady, put your hand up"?! Now that's just rude.
Moral 1 of my sermon: don't trust Beyonce -- apparently she wants to be a boy and have all the single ladies to herself (poor Jay-Z)
Moral 2: take a risk with someone. Sacrifice a night of raving at your favorite nightclub for a cool date with someone new. And if it doesn't work out, so what? At least you'll have had a good supper, or watched a good movie, or at the very least experienced for a split second that nervous, electric feeling in your stomach that happens on dates.
That feeling's a spark, and you can't start a fire without it.
...ok, so that was kinda cheesy. Boo-hoo. Point being, single ladies are going extinct for all the wrong reasons and all the wrong people. Please, have the time of your life -- just try holding hands instead of waving your arms.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Congratulations to me
Blog birth is painful, folks. You think contractions, dilating, and placenta are nasty? Try going through the pain of finding a web-address that hasn't been taken yet. Seriously. You'll be using lamaze in no time.
But why did I go through with it?
Well, let me ask you a question. What's wrong with the following sentence:
"this weekend was craAAzy lolz andy's partee was sooooo fun and jamie was definitely waay more into taylor than last weekend but i guess its fine even though i know imma miss their cute flirting"
Is it grammar? Spelling? Incoherence?
Yes. Yes. Yes.
But that's not what I care about. That's not why I started this blog. I started because *those* sentences say nothing. Did they make you smile? Or laugh? Or wonder who the hell Taylor is and why in God's name Angie needs paper towel?
No. Because no one cares. And no one cares about blogs like that either. See, similar to gorgeous models, most modern web sites cover up their dumb airhead content with sexy pics and colorful accessories just to be noticed. But when the one night stand's over and the make-up's all gone... well... kind of seems like a waste of time, doesn't it?
My blog is the ugly girl in high school. She's lonely, awkward, and weird, not to mention too mean for her own good. Let's call her Susan Blip.
No one likes Susan Blip, obviously, though they love laughing at her. Cruel? Yes, but truth be told Susan laughs at herself sometimes too and honestly likes the attention. So she keeps to herself, not afraid to crack jokes, spread gossip, or let out a cackle (even when no one's listening). She'll never be famous, but that's ok with her. She won't even be popular, or well liked. But that's ok too. Because Susan Blip loves doing whatever weird shit she wants to do, and she's sticking to it.
-----------------------------------------------
Edit: For more info on Susan Blip, here's the original write-up from my info box. Couldn't bear to part with it.
This site was born January 15th, 2009. Her name is Susan Blip. She was due to be delivered late December, but the blog doctors went on vacation and didn't come back until New Years. And although it's still too early to tell, there's a good chance Susan will grow up ugly, outspoken, unevenly developed and, consequently, shunned by prettier, more popular teen-blogs later on in life. An early birthday may be the only advantage Susan has among future friends... assuming she makes any.
But why did I go through with it?
Well, let me ask you a question. What's wrong with the following sentence:
"this weekend was craAAzy lolz andy's partee was sooooo fun and jamie was definitely waay more into taylor than last weekend but i guess its fine even though i know imma miss their cute flirting"
Or how about:
"wow. honestly. i still can't believe my DREAM WEDDING'S on friday!!!!! so much left ahhh!!! mom and dad are flying down from Maine on Wednesday, so i better break out the paper towel (just for you, angie!). Can't wait to see everyone on the isle!"
Think about it.Is it grammar? Spelling? Incoherence?
Yes. Yes. Yes.
But that's not what I care about. That's not why I started this blog. I started because *those* sentences say nothing. Did they make you smile? Or laugh? Or wonder who the hell Taylor is and why in God's name Angie needs paper towel?
No. Because no one cares. And no one cares about blogs like that either. See, similar to gorgeous models, most modern web sites cover up their dumb airhead content with sexy pics and colorful accessories just to be noticed. But when the one night stand's over and the make-up's all gone... well... kind of seems like a waste of time, doesn't it?
My blog is the ugly girl in high school. She's lonely, awkward, and weird, not to mention too mean for her own good. Let's call her Susan Blip.
No one likes Susan Blip, obviously, though they love laughing at her. Cruel? Yes, but truth be told Susan laughs at herself sometimes too and honestly likes the attention. So she keeps to herself, not afraid to crack jokes, spread gossip, or let out a cackle (even when no one's listening). She'll never be famous, but that's ok with her. She won't even be popular, or well liked. But that's ok too. Because Susan Blip loves doing whatever weird shit she wants to do, and she's sticking to it.
...
Now how about those sentences? I'm not saying they're better than the ones about anal Angie or douchebag Taylor, but what makes them more entertaining?
Grammar? Spelling? Coherence?
Not really. I can promise that 'lolz' will be on this blog in the future, along with poor grammar, bad spelling, and tonnes of stuff that doesn't make ANY sense...
But IF you find yourself even mildly entertained, then I've succeeded.
So bookmark this blog and don't be afraid to check in and chuckle from time to time. Remember: everyone laughs at the ugly girl at least once. Even herself.
-----------------------------------------------
Edit: For more info on Susan Blip, here's the original write-up from my info box. Couldn't bear to part with it.
This site was born January 15th, 2009. Her name is Susan Blip. She was due to be delivered late December, but the blog doctors went on vacation and didn't come back until New Years. And although it's still too early to tell, there's a good chance Susan will grow up ugly, outspoken, unevenly developed and, consequently, shunned by prettier, more popular teen-blogs later on in life. An early birthday may be the only advantage Susan has among future friends... assuming she makes any.
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