Archive for the ‘Somebody's getting maawwweeed’ Category
Friday, February 5th, 2010
Internet, I’ve discussed this before – not with you, I don’t think, but I probably would have gotten around to it eventually – I just don’t care for travel. I know that the desire for travel is generally assumed to be present in anyone and everyone, as if it’s a certainty that anyone with half a brain would turn globetrotter at the drop of a hat, given the chance. Well, meet the girl who is CHALLENGING ALL OF YOUR PRECONCEIVED NOTIONS OF NORMALITY. I’m practically a “The More You Know” commercial.
Doo DOO doo doooooo.
I don’t like to be away from home. People will say, “Oh, don’t you want to see other countries, experience other cultures?” Not… really. I have nothing against other countries or cultures. I just think… isn’t that why we invented the Internet? I mean, have you heard the way that some of you make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? If that’s not other cultures, being experienced by me, right in my email inbox, I don’t know what is.
Anyway, this is a long way of saying that I’m not even remotely pleased to be in Pennsylvania right now. It’s cold, and it’s snowing on and off and everyone is just acting like it’s normal. I know I’ve only been gone from the east coast for a year, but that is long enough to realize that I don’t like it here.
YOU DON’T HAVE TO LIVE LIKE THIS, EAST COAST.
Anyway, I’ve had appointments all week and have not been able to adjust to the time difference at all. It’s only 2 hours at the moment, but my whole life is thrown off. I keep getting yanked out of bed early, when my mother decides she’s generously allowed me to sleep enough. I keep having to stay up late because I get the feeling that the fact that I actually need time to work doesn’t get considered too much here. It’s a common problem with the whole working at home thing – Phil sometimes struggles with it, too. The idea that I can work anytime, anywhere, so I’m much more flexible. Of course, if I need to go to an appointment or something, it is much easier for me than for someone with an office job. However, the work “anywhere, anytime” thing does require a place and a time at some point, and since I’ve been here, that place and time has been sitting in the center of my sister’s childhood bed at 11pm.
I’ve read every single comment on the dresses post, and I really appreciate all of your thoughts. I have to say, though, we (my sister, mom and I) were totally surprised by many of them. We’re not at all shocked at which dress ended up being the runaway favorite, but a dress that has been a very strong front runner for all of us got little to no favor at all with most people. I had to go try it on again, we were so shocked. Last night, my sister and I agreed that I must have just chosen a bad picture of it – it’s so flattering in person, and so pretty, it’s just not possible that so few people would like it. I don’t have the time to resize anymore photos right now, but since I got everyone’s unbiased opinions on the dresses yesterday, I’ll do a post with my opinions of them later tonight or tomorrow, for the most hardcore and dedicated of the dress shoppers. Those of you who have had your fill of ooh and ahh over standard white dresses should feel free to skip it – I’m aware that wedding dresses are not nearly as interesting to the general public or penises as they are to someone who is currently planning a wedding.
I truly am stumped on the dresses, and with 7 contending for the top spot, you’d think we’d be content to just let them all duke it out, but instead, we are heading out to one more store this afternoon. The worst case scenario at this new store would be that someone makes fun of my flabby arms. The slightly less horrible but much more realistic worst case scenario would be that we find a dress that is on par with the other seven. The best outcome would be if we found either nothing, or one dress that just kicked every other dress’s tulle-y ass, and the decision would be made.
Anyway, I can’t believe I’ve been rambling on about dress shopping for days. This is why, on the whole, I talk so little about my day to day life, and focus instead on… well, whatever the hell it is I normally focus on. Some people have a skill for making the day to day mundane details of their life interesting, compelling and/or hysterical. Me, I need to stick to writing about sandwiches and candy bars, because damn it is dull to be me.
Here’s some stuff I’ve been thinking about when everyone else gets to sleep and I have to stay up way late and work even though my mom is only going to let me sleep til, like, 8, and think that she actually waited forever to wake me up, even though she is totally not factoring in the fact that I don’t even a little bit want to be awake and that I’m 28 and just waking me up for the hell of waking me up stopped being one of her parental rights when I moved out into my own place:
1. More people have seen me in my underwear in the last three days than in the last three years, total. And all I packed was polka dots, polka dots, stripes and snowmen. Awesome. EXCEPT? The shop ladies were mostly just happy that I was WEARING any in the first place! WHO ARE YOU OTHER WOMEN IN THIS WORLD?
2. This is completely unrelated to anything, but I’ve recently decided that while I nodded along with a certain opinion in the past, I am ready to say I just totally don’t buy it. I pretty much totally disagree with the notion that those women on the late night HBO “Real Sex” show try to sell, the concept that stripping or, more often, burlesque, is empowering to women. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think it is DISempowering, either. If you get your rocks off by taking off your clothes and dancing around for an audience, there is NOTHING wrong with that. Good for you. More power to you. However, I have to disagree when you try to rationalize or justify it by saying it “empowers” women as a whole. I don’t think that strippers or burlesque dancers are degrading themselves as a general rule (obviously individual and situational), but I don’t think they’re making any great strides for female kind, either. You like to show your naked body to people. It’s not a subversive social statement, it’s semi-public nudity. 75% of the audience (being generous) is not appreciating your art, they’re appreciating your tits. I don’t have anything against stripping or nudie dancing. Just, you know, sack up and say what it is – naked for fun and profit.
3. I’m pretty sick of being told, “You’ll understand when you __________.” Whether it be get married, have a kid, get older, etc etc etc. I’m not a slobbering moron. I am pretty sure I understand a good portion of these things, at least in theory. Phil and I live together, have a joint bank account, do most everything together unless he is at work. I am pretty sure I “get” the whole functional, day to day-ness of being married. And no, I don’t have a kid, but I’ve been tired. Oh no, I totally understand. You, the one who has procreated, are the only one who knows what real tired is. No one else has ever been tired. Ever. EVER. If you have not expelled a baby from your body, you may think you’ve been tired, exhausted, ready to drop face first into your laptop, but you’d be wrong. Because only mommies know what tired really is. Anyway. I’m not eight. “You’ll understand when ________” no longer applies, like, ever. I may not have all the wisdom that years bring, but I am pretty sure that saying “I do,” having a baby, or any other life event doesn’t suddenly grant you special powers. I am reasonably certain that I possess the mental capacity to understand these basic concepts.
Did I miss LINK TO SOMEONE ELSE THURSDAY again? I think I did. See? This is why I hate travel. I can’t even blog correctly.
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed, daily BS | 16 Comments »
Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010
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Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010
The title of this post, Internet, refers to two things.
Thing One:
I went dress shopping today, and it was not a total misery, even though my mother started off the day by telling me she liked my shirt but it made me look “heavier than I am.” And then she was shocked when I went to change it. She wasn’t being mean, it just didn’t come out the way she intended (I was wearing a much less fitted shirt than my usual preferences, and she wasn’t used to it, as I am quite set in my “style” ways). There were very few dresses we were flat out displeased with, and from the two shops we went to, I got a much better idea of what I’m looking for – or at least, what I’m not looking for (dropped waists + short legs = a surprisingly dead on impersonation of Toad).
We’ve even got two dresses tied in a dead heat at the moment, with a third not far enough behind to be eliminated. We took pictures of everything, but… I left my camera cord in Arizona.
DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT?
(I will be picking up a card reader tomorrow in hopes that I will find a way to get Internet input without Phil having a peek – we’re being quite traditional about all of that.)
Thing Two:
Have you ever read Hyperbole and a Half? If you haven’t, I don’t even know what to say to you. You should probably go over and read it right now, and that should probably convince you to continue. If you need more convincing, you should read this particular post, because if you are at all like me, you will probably be like OH MAN ME TOO and if you’re not at all like me yet you’re still reading my blog, you will still probably laugh REALLY HARD.
And if you’re STILL not convinced?
Look what Allie drew for me:
DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT?
You know how we are moving into a whole new house? That is the first art going on our walls, and it will probably be really hard to actually choose a wall for it, so I’m thinking we’ll put one copy above each of Brinkley’s beds (two), so that he knows where they are in the new house and then one copy in the bathroom, because every bathroom needs some classy art, and then one copy in the laundry room to cheer me up when I’m doing laundry! DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT!
Anyway, Internet, I wanted to write about dress shopping today, but it seems so pointless without pictures. I hope to write about it tomorrow, with pictures, but I’ll have to work out a way to keep Phil’s prying eyes away. Not that he’s all determined to ruin the surprise or anything, but you know, once you’re banned from something, it becomes much more likely that you will accidentally see it. Suggestions welcome, Internet.
Posted in Bloggers who aren't me, Somebody's getting maawwweeed, daily BS | 9 Comments »
Monday, February 1st, 2010
I bet, if you were looking for me, you’d be looking in Arizona right now, but that’s because you don’t pay attention when I talk. After a weekend of adventure, I an now laying on my parents’ couch in Pennsylvania, and there’s no diet soda, so I’m really not in a good mood about the whole thing.
Anyway, though, let me tell you about my weekend, because it’s way more interesting than anything that is going on here (my sister is sitting at the kitchen table, doing her taxes, saying things like “tell the Internet I itched my boob! No, don’t tell them that,” and not being decisive about it at all so guess what? I went with the boob thing).
Saturday morning, we got up relatively early (or at least, I did – Phil is always up early so Phil got up pretty normal) because we had a long day planned, but it was actually going to turn out to be way longer than we ever imagined. This is called heavy-handed foreshadowing.
I would have stayed in bed until right up until my first appointment of the day (hair at 12:30), but I had to make a t-shirt for Brinkley. I would tell you more about the t-shirt I made for Brinkley, but I unloaded all of the pictures from my camera onto my computer at home, and now I’m in PA with a MacBook, so I have to tell you, I’m feeling a little illustratively stifled. Anyway, I was making a t-shirt for Brinkley, with iron on letters, like you do, and one set of letters just refused to work. At all. Of course, they worked JUST ENOUGH TO RUIN THE ENTIRE T-SHIRT I HAD SPENT ALL MORNING ON, but I didn’t complain (yes I did). I didn’t whine (oh yes I did). Instead, we cut off the offending part of shirt and make Brinkley a belly shirt. Welcome to 1996, dog!
With that being done, all we had was places to be for the rest of the day. I got my hair done at 12:30 (Phil had a manicure). I got my make up done at 2 (Phil prepared a cooler with marrow bones for the dog). We had engagement pictures taken by Busy Bee Lauren at 4 in Mesa (I let Phil participate in that one).
For two people who really don’t like to have their picture taken and cannot smile on demand to save their lives, we did not end up having an absolutely miserable time getting the pictures done, which obviously is a testament to Lauren’s skill. We won’t have the pictures back for a few weeks, but we did get to keep a couple of pictures that had been used for effect in another picture, so feel free to tell us that we’re adorable, Internet.
The fish: The most flattering of all the animal faces.
While we were having our pictures done, a lovely couple named Jeremiah and his wife Jennifer, who like to read my blog together, which is both hysterical and awesome, and I forget where I’m going with this sentence, but anyway, they watched Brinkley for us for the pictures that Brinkley (and his t-shirt!) did not feature in. We asked to take them to dinner afterward, and they accepted, with Jeremiah saying that it was unlikely we were ever going to be in the East Valley again, seeing as how it is about an hour from our home. Little did he know! CHECK OUT THAT HAMFISTED FORESHADOWING.
Since we had the dog with us, we were kind of limited on where we could go, but fortunately, they know of a bar where Brinkley was totally welcome. Seriously. It is called the Monastery, and it’s like being in a backyard, right down to grilling your own food, which you pay for with your bank card and walk away without signing the slip. I mean, that’s what I did. I don’t know if you would want to take the same course of action.
We had a lovely dinner, and since I had a 7:30 am flight on Sunday, necessitating a 4am wake up, we called it a pretty early night and Phil and I headed back home, an HOUR AWAY, so that I could start packing. I always end up staying up all night the night before I travel anywhere, because everyone knows that packing a suitcase takes exactly as much time as you have. If you don’t have to be ready to go until 5am and you start packing at 10pm, it is going to take from 10pm to 5am and that’s just how packing goes.
So we ended up getting home for the night, finally around 9pm or so, I believe, and I screwed around for a while because, come on, I had ALL NIGHT TO PACK. Around 9:30 or so, I had settled down to check in to my flight and got to the part where I had to pay $23 GD dollars so they could toss my bag around like some kind of bag carnival ride, when I realized that I did not possess the tiny piece of plastic I needed to pay for said bag. AND OH YEAH, I DIDN’T REMEMBER SIGNING THE SLIP AT THE BAR AT ALL.
Phil, who had not been feeling well at all for the whole day and a couple of days leading up to that whole day, was… somewhat less than pleased with me, as we set out to go BACK to Mesa, and HOUR AWAY, AGAIN. And then an hour home. AGAIN.
Arriving home with the time closing in on midnight, I was somewhat less enthusiastic about packing for my trip. Deciding to test the theory that packing would take exactly as much time as I had, we both got in bed until the alarm went off at 4am. We had to leave at 5:30, and wouldn’t you know, the packing that usually takes me all night took exactly as much time as I had. Weird.
I spent both flights having an inner battle with myself, because the same shrieking child was on the plane from Phoenix to Chicago, and then Chicago to Scranton. He wasn’t crying. He was shrieking. You know, like kids do. And in my mind, I was at war, telling myself, “You know, his mother is probably pretty miserable, no one wants to be the cause of annoying a whole plane,” and also, “Well, she doesn’t LOOK that upset. If she’s upset, she should look more upset because I’M upset.” I totally get that keeping a kid quiet on a long plane ride is probably difficult, if not impossible. And that if it’s your kid, it’s probably very frustrating for you, or embarrassing, or upsetting, or whatever, to be the one with the screaming kid, and you certainly didn’t set out to upset the whole plane, and I should really have some sympathy. I really, truly told myself all of that over and over but in the end it didn’t matter how much I assured myself because OH MY GOD THAT KID SHRIEKED ACROSS THE ENTIRE UNITED STATES. I’m sorry, parents who have had the experience of holding a shrieking child in your lap. I really, truly tried to squash down my annoyance with sympathy but it DIDN’T WORK. I will willingly claim the title of Airborn Asshole if I need to.
Anyway, aside from having next to no sleep and leaving Phil in Arizona feeling quite unwell and the fact that my sister greeted me at the airport by bending over and waving her butt and saying, “Mom said I couldn’t moon you,” my travels were largely uneventful. I’ll be here in PA for about two weeks, which should be just enough time both for Phil to recover and not be such a whiny sick person and also for him to forget that I made him drive back and forth across Arizona a whole bunch of times.
Tomorrow, Internet? Dress shopping.
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed, daily BS | 12 Comments »
Friday, January 29th, 2010
Internet, I don’t even know what to say. I feel like we should say good bye, or farewell for now, or whatever that foreign thing people say because they think it’s romantic or whatever, and it means good bye until another time when we’ll see each other again, so saying it in a different language really makes this whole thing more dramatic than it needs to be.
Anyway, I’m kind of blown away by how busy you guys are going to be for the next month or so. I mean, on top of your jobs and your families and your own blogs, I’m really awed by how much you’re adding to your plate in the coming weeks.
Seriously, Internet, I salute you.
Our engagement pictures are tomorrow, so I imagine you’re eager to get started in helping me choose the one that makes our horrifical photo-smiles look the least terrifying, and then, of course, you’ll want to use your picture choosing momentum to swing right into initial Save the Date design concepts.
But then, I’m getting a little ahead of myself on your schedule! After all, I’m flying to Pennsylvania on Sunday, and shortly after that, real, viable wedding dress choices are going to come pouring in. I can only imagine the hours you’ll spend debating the choices amongst yourselves. I’m tired just thinking about it!
I’m willing to go along with your backbreaking pace, though, Internet. I mean, I’ll do my best, at least. You guys are right – is reasonable that while I’m out in Pennsylvania with my mom and sister and other attendant interested parties, that I find a cake maker and florist as well. If left to my own devices, I might throw my hands in the air and allow myself to be buried in the details! I don’t know what I’d do without your selfless service, Internet.
I’m really just floored by your go-go-go attitude and energy, Internet. Are you guys carbo loading or something? Because once I get back from PA, it’s time to get ready to move! As you’re already aware – I can tell by the way you’re already pre-researching on Ikea.com! – we only own two bedrooms worth of furniture and nothing else! A whole house to decorate, after the whole dress, cake, flowers and more? Damn, y’all! You’re out of control!
Do I even need to keep going, Internet? The engagement pictures, save the dates, the dress, all the dress accessories, the flowers, the cake, moving, decorating a whole house, helping us choose a second dog, oh man, tuxedos! Music! The amount of work to be done over the next nine months, starting tomorrow with the first Official Wedding Thing, it’s making my head spin!
But here you are, Internet, totally ready and raring to go. Internet, if I had half your energy, I can’t even list all the things I would have accomplished in my life by now! Jello that’s ready in 15 minutes, for one! I totally understand if you don’t have time to reply to my chatty emails and frivolous tweets for the rest of the year! Gosh! I’m going to get you a gift certificate for a massage at the end of all of this!
Internet, starting tomorrow, the next nine months are going to be kind of nutty, what with all the work you have to do and creative things you have to design and unique ideas you need to create and advice you need to give and decisions that must be democratically voted upon. It just boggles my mind that I sit here, shoving granola into my face by the handful, while you busy little bees not only run your own lives, but jump in full force to mine as well.
Give yourself a pre-emptive hand, Internet. You are totally going to deserve it.
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed, daily BS | 20 Comments »
Tuesday, January 26th, 2010
Internet, say your car was really close to breaking down. I mean, it’s day by day, dire situation. Your brakes could go out and fling you into oncoming traffic at any moment. I offer you two options:
1. Run out and grab a new car really quickly right now OR
2. Wait 6 months and your family will generously gift you with a car.
Obviously, the answer is run out and grab a new car really quickly right now, because your car is a death trap, except don’t tell anyone and HIDE the car so your family will give you another car in six months. Right?
How about a similar situation: Your fiance is deploying (for the sake of argument, let’s say he was given three weeks notice even though that never actually happens) and it would be really convenient if you were married now, but you also want a big pretty wedding in Jamaica, with all of your family flying out to join you six months from now. I again offer you two options:
1. Run out and get married really quickly right now – I mean, even in 3 weeks (which never happens), you can get your close family and friends together for a nice ceremony, and send your new husband off on his deployment secure in the fact that his new wife is taken care of OR
2. Wait 6 months and have the dream wedding you wanted.
Again, the answer is obvious. You get married really quickly right now, except you hide the fact that you’re married so that in six months, your family and friends will shell out to fly to Jamaica so you can have the wedding of your dreams as well.
Clearly, in both situations, the answer is the same – lie to your friends and family to make sure that you get what you’re entitled to.
Now, let’s add a blogger spin on it. Say you’re a writer on a bridal blog, and you’ve just made a post coming clean about how yes, it’s true, you are already married, but you’ve decided to hide it from family and friends so that they aren’t aware that you’re already married when they come to the destination wedding you’re planning in Jamaica, with the dress, the vows, the whole nine. Some commenters on your public blog disagree with what you’re doing. I offer you two options:
1. Accept the fact that when you blog about something, not everyone will agree and may comment to that effect and move on OR
2. Delete any and all comments that you don’t like.
Again, why am I giving quizzes with such obvious answers? Clearly, you email anyone who commented explaining whylying is okay in your particular situation. You express shock that someone dared express a dissenting opinion in blog comments. When they still don’t agree with you, you THEN delete any and all comments that you don’t like, and head to another blog, where you post all of the emails, secure in the fact that your regular readers will tell you it’s totally okay to lie to your friends and family. After all – you are entitled to that special wedding day!
I’ve written about this elsewhere - the notion, common especially among young military brides – that just because you’re married doesn’t mean you can’t get married. That there’s nothing wrong with it. That solely due to the fact that you were born female, you’re entitled to your wedding day. You should also note that the linked article was written three weeks ago – so my annoyance with this phenomenon certainly isn’t a personal vendetta against one person with one entitled attitude.
My question, though - if these women didn’t think they were doing something wrong, why are they lying about it or hiding it? If there’s nothing wrong with a quickie wedding and then a “real” wedding later, why not just give people the heads up?
There is nothing wrong with getting married quickly before a deployment – Phil and I would do the same thing if faced with a sudden (which never happens, but again – 3 weeks, for the sake of argument) deployment. There’s nothing wrong with having a big “meet the family” party when he comes home. There’s nothing wrong with saying “Hey, friends and family, come on out to our vow renewal” when he gets home.
But lying - lying – to your friends and family, for no other reason that I can see other than to preserve your dream of the perfect wedding - I can’t get behind that, not even for a fellow military bride. You can plan a quick wedding (in that 3 week notice that never actually happens). You can get by on just a civil ceremony.
Another common argument is that the civil ceremony is just signing a paper – it’s not a real wedding. I think my parents, married nearly 30 years, would be distressed to know that they didn’t have a real wedding. Do you think the IRS will get mad when they find out my parents have been filing jointly, but only had a civil ceremony?
Now that I’ve explained where I’m coming from, let’s move on to the blogger hysteria.
(I’m not going to post all of the emails exchanged, because you can feel free to read them on the other blogger’s post.)
The Bridal Bloggette appears to be a relatively new blog, trying to fit itself in to the crowded wedding blog niche. Several different brides are going to blog about their wedding planning, offer do-it-yourself help and general serve as a resource and gathering place for other young women planning weddings, from what I can tell.
I read a post on this blog today explaining the exact situation above – the bride was already married, but wasn’t going to tell friends and family. I left a comment saying that lying certainly wasn’t cool, and asking why the writer would need to have a big wedding if they were already married – after all, is it about the marriage or the wedding?
The writer sent me an unsolicited email to… I don’t know? Tell me why it was ok for her to lie? Chastise me for disagreeing with something she wrote on a public blog? Regardless of her reasons, she shortly deleted my comment (and the comments of others) and took the whole thing to her personal blog. Why? Because if you take it to your personal blog, as the wounded party, you get responses like:
“How dare she disagree with you!” and
“She must be jealous!” and
“She must need a hobby, even though all she did was leave a comment on a blog like any normal person would and then you took time out of YOUR day to email her and then she responded! Even though you actually are the one who lost her mind, SHE obviously has too much time on her hands!” and
“OMG why does she even care? It’s not like you wrote about a wedding on a wedding blog and she’s actually getting married! Everyone knows that if you disagree with someone on the internet, you obviously give an unhealthy-sized shit about their life.” and
“Wow, she must be made of PURE EVIL to not totally be behind not only you lying to YOUR family, but to also create a wedding blog where you tacitly support others lying to THEIR families!”
The fact that she emailed me, on top of the fact that she’s advocating lying are, of course, totally ignored.
Look, any other military brides or brides in general who may stumble upon this post after reading the drama started by someone who can’t handle disagreement maturely – if you need to get married quickly, for whatever reason – DO IT. If you want to have a party afterwards, do that. If you want to have a vow renewal, do that. If you want to have a whole big wedding re-enactment with the dress and the church and everything else – that’s FINE. If you come from a country or a tradition that calls for a legal ceremony at one point and a church ceremony at another – ALSO FINE.
But don’t, please don’t, lie to your friends and family about it. No matter how many people tell you it’s ok, no matter how many people may kiss your butt about it on your own blog – lying is not ok. Ask yourselfwhy you’re lying. Is it because you don’t feel like you’ll get the attention and celebration you deserve if your family already knows? That’s probably true. If you’re grown up enough to get married, though, you’re grown up enough to accept that. You’re starting your lives together. Don’t start it on a lie.
This is what doesn’t seem to be getting through to so many people, both military and civilian, who do this for any number of reasons. It’s not the two ceremonies that’s wrong. It’s not throwing yourself a wedding when you’re already married that’s wrong (even if it is kind of tacky). The LYING is what is wrong. LYING. It’s not okay. No amount of “WHY DO U EVEN CARE??!!11!!” is going to make lying ok.
Also, as advice to bloggers in general – if you post about your life and then get upset at anyone who disagrees with you, sending hysterical emails about “WHY DO YOU CARE WHAT I DO SO MUCH!!!!” is kind of weird. You posted it on the Internet. People read that shit, you know (but don’t bother to comment – a couple of people told me that dissenting comments are, of course, being deleted).
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed, daily BS | 140 Comments »
Monday, January 25th, 2010
Internet, there are very few things in this world I truly dislike. I don’t like sausage. I don’t like Fiona Apple. I don’t like any movies with shooting, violence, explosions, fighting, running, jumping, car chases, bombs, harsh language, aliens, time travel, inter-breeding of species, special effects, animation blended with live action, sad parts, funny parts, dramatic parts, things that jump out at you, red herrings, false alarms, love triangles, or the part of the plot where the girl/guy loses their guy/girl forever except you know it’s not forever because there’s still 20 minutes of movie left, and I hate stubbing my toe.
So really, Internet, you know that I must be serious when I tell you HOW HARD I HATE SNICKERS BARS RIGHT NOW.
Phil is taking a course of steroids for a back injury right now, and I have a raging case of PMS combined with the fact that I’m going wedding dress shopping next week, so it only made sense that yesterday we hopped in our car to drive to the Shell station around the corner to find a whole bunch of fattening crap to stuff into our face holes.
Among other things (which were, of course, a salad and a delightful low-fat low-cal low-sodium low-taste protein bar to power me through my evening work outs-HAHAHAHAHAHA), I chose this:
Please pardon my chicken, it was conveniently sized for covering up a S’mores ice cream stain.
Are you judging me right now, Internet? Maybe for the fact that I bought a Snickers? Or because I have a cooler under my desk so that when Phil and I do actually play WoW together (I totally gave in this weekend, by the way – Fronks & Boones on Drenden, Alliance side), we don’t have to make the 45 second round trip downstairs for sodas? Or maybe you’re one of those assholes who thinks it’s ridiculous for me to drink diet soda with my candy bar, like people who drink diet soda are all universally so stupid that when we order a Big Mac and a Diet Coke, we actually believe the Diet Coke is somehow cancelling out the Big Mac? For that last one, if you are one of those assholes, seriously – have you ever even realized what an asshole you are?
Anyway, my point is – if you are judging me right now, you go right on ahead with your bad self. Because you’re a PERSON and it is your right to run around judging people all willy nilly for whatever you want! I mean, it’s possible to go overboard, of course, but I can’t stop you. Sometimes, when you’re having a really crappy day, judging someone else and finding yourself slightly superior is the one shining moment in the whole shitfest of a day. So you go on and do what you feel you need to do.
But you know who isn’t allowed to judge me?
Candy. Candy is not allowed to judge me. Not even a little. I don’t even want a HINT OF AN IDEA that candy MIGHT be judging me. And while the candy bar pictured above isn’t saying anything outright, I am PRETTY DAMN SURE it doesn’t even approve of me buying it in the first place.
Upon getting in the car and ripping open my Snickers bar before we even left the parking lot (again, judge me if you must, but I just want to say that Phil? He ended up paying for a hot dog WRAPPER because he ATE THE HOT DOG before we even got to the counter) (I’d also like to remind you that Phil is on steroids, so, you know), I pulled out my prize only to discover? IT WAS ONLY HALF A PRIZE.
At first I thought my King Size Snickers bar had broken in half, and I wondered how that was even possible, because have you ever seen a King Size Snickers bar? It’s like as big around as a baby’s arm (don’t even act like you’ve never eaten a Snickers, Internet. I mean, judge me if you want, but don’t LIE about it). And you know what I found on closer inspection? It hadn’t broken in half, because the part where it would have been broken was CLEARLY AND DELIBERATELY CHOCOLATED OVER.
So I took a closer look at the wrapper.
Ok, for some reason, they have taken a perfectly good ridiculously-sized candy bar and broken it into two pieces. I WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE WITH THIS, except for the added INSTRUCTIONS.
That’s right. Instructions. On how to SAVE one of my UNASKED FOR PIECES for later.
And? The two “CONVENIENT” pieces? They were both smaller than an actual, normal-sized Snickers.
Don’t you think, SNICKERS, that if I wanted a normal-sized Snickers, I would have bought a normal-sized Snickers? I WOULD HAVE. But I didn’t. I bought a KING SIZE SNICKERS because I had a KING SIZE NEED for chocolate. I needed CHOCOLATE, not your ATTITUDE, Snickers.
Don’t you see, Internet? Who buys a King Size Snickers without intending to shove the whole thing down their throat right then and there? Don’t tell me, “Well, sometimes people want some Snickers now, and some Snickers later,” because you know what, up until Snickers made this UNREQUESTED two-piecing of their candy bar, that’s what buying two Snickers was for. ESPECIALLY gas station Snickers. You don’t wander into a gas station looking to stock your pantry with snacks for later. You walk into a gas station to buy stuff that is going to be half-digested by the time you arrive at your destination.
Yet, here we have the CANDY BAR ITSELF trying to pass judgement on me, and being pretty effing passive aggressive about it, if you ask me.
You know what, King Size Snickers? This is my you impression:
“Um, TJ, I’m not going to tell you what you should and shouldn’t eat, but you know what I am going to do? I’m going to go ahead and cut myself in half, and then? I’m going to suggest you go ahead and twist my wrapper right around. I’m not going to come right out and say it, but I think you understand that I’m not telling you to twist an empty wrapper here. You should leave half. For another time.”
THAT’S YOU, KING SIZE SNICKERS. THAT WAS ME, DOING YOU. And you know what? You sounded kind of like an ASSHOLE.
If I WANTED a smaller portion of Snickers, I would have bought a smaller portion of Snickers. I don’t need the “helpful” advice, King Size Snickers. I already KNOW I shouldn’t be eating a King Size Snickers. Do you know how I know? Because it’s called KING SIZE and I’m not a king. I’m not even like, 1/32 royalty. I shouldn’t be having ANYTHING meant for kings. Up until you decided to get all WRAPPER-UPPITY, King Size Snickers, your name alone was enough to warn people like, “Dude? Just so you know? I’m meant for kings, so I’m pretty huge. If you’re cool with that, go on ahead and eat me, but by my very name, you should know that I’m not really the best option for someone who isn’t a king.” And you know what? THAT WAS ENOUGH.
Seriously, Snickers people? If you read the Internet? You need to shut your candy the hell up because, rude!
JUST IN CASE IT WASN’T CLEAR: Snickers totally did not pay me to say this stuff about their passive-aggressive, judgmental, SHOULD-MIND-ITS-OWN-BUSINESS candy bar.
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed, Yeah, I play WoW, daily BS | 45 Comments »
