I AM SUCH A SIMPLE SOUL...

The dumbest stuff causes me the most amusement. Today on the way to work the DJ referred to someone tailgating as 'being a total barnicle' and I laughed (out loud) to myself for at least five minutes.

Barnicle, people. Barnicle.

*Thanks to Elliot of DC 101 for making up that phrase and thus making being stuck in traffic totally worthwhile.

WAY CUTE OR PASS THE AIRSICK BAG?

Am I being a curmudgeon or is the sight of a couple high-fiving while in line at the supermarket totally vomit worthy?

Please let me know so I can adjust my viewpoint accordingly.

HOW 80’s AND EARLY 90’s POP CULTURE, LIKE, TOTALLY SAVED THE DAY:

Here’s how my morning started:

• Got up a half hour early to go to the bank.
• Left my house in the rain.
• Realized 10 minutes after leaving my house that my feet were already Wet, Slimy, and Cold.
• Completed the 30 Minute That Should Only Have Been 10 But People Suck At Driving trip to the bank only to find…the bank is CLOSED. Apparently THAT branch doesn’t open until 12pm. Stupid branch. Stupid bank.
• Began the drive back to work- already late due to my totally wasted effort.

Crappy start to an Already Crappy Because I Have to Go To Work Again Day, no? Oui, I thought so too.

BUT. BUT…this day has since been rescued! Yes, I realize I should probably be embarrassed by what I’m about to tell you, but hey…I work at a boring job where I am chained to my desk for 8 hours a day…it doesn’t take much to Cause Unwarranted Excitement and Overall Glee.

SO. I know you’re dying to know what caused such glee.

FIRST. On the rainy, dreary, feet are still wet drive back I heard…(on a supposedly normal radio station-I have since reevaluated said station)…THE SPICE GIRLS.

And not their latest Attempt at a Comeback which I’m trying very hard to ignore (I mean, seriously…do they really think they can bring back the Girl Power? They’re all, like, MOMS n’ stuff. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a mom…and they’re still hot- I should be so lucky- but its just…not the same.) No, no, this was an oldie. And oh yes, I sang along.

“Tell me what you want what you really really want. I’ll TELL you what I want what I really really want…Everybody’s down and wine is all around!”

If those aren’t some quality lyrics, I don’t know what are!

(Cue feelings of Shame and Embarrassment for ignoring the Don’t Do That Alarm in my brain and actually typing those lyrics out.)

SECOND. I found out that there are THREE (count em’ three!) blogs devoted solely to 80’s Tween Lit.

1. The Dairi Burger- Recaps the old Sweet Valley High books with added commentary. AWESOME. I read all of them, and it’s totally fun to look back and see them lovingly broken down by Each Individual Ridiculous Element.
2. BSC Headquarters- Much like The Dairy Burger, except this blog critiques the Babysitters Club. ALSO AWESOME. I read all these books as well. (And yes, I was a Total Geek growing up, thank you.)
3. What Claudia Wore- Chronicles the ‘Artsy and, Like, Totally Fashion Forward’ style of Claudia Kishi- also Babysitters Club if for some like, totally, unacceptable reason you didn’t already know that. Posts are broken down Outfit by- what was she thinking?!- Outfit.

So…let's summarize:

The Spice Girls, Sweet Valley High, AND the Babysitters Club.

AND ALL BEFORE LUNCHTIME!

My day is complete. Even my slimy feet couldn’t bring me down off this Hot Pink Eighties cloud. Throw in the Goonies and I’d probably pee my pants.


Thanks to Feministing for the tip!

JUST YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD CRAZY...OUT FOR A DRIVE

Ever have one of those moments that start out as a well intentioned endeavor but, in the span of usually less than a minute, turn into....An Incident. An Incident is something that will cause you at the very least, Low Level Embarrassment that will last you an evening- and at the worst, Mighty Monstrous Mortification that will last you an entire lifetime. I had one of the former this afternoon. (Stories of my various Mighty Monstrous Mortifications are carefully preserved in the dusty back room in the Library Of My Brain and going through those annals is definitely For Another Day.)

So anyway, on to the Low Level Embarrassment of today.

I work at a fairly small institution (of the intellectual, not the mental, variety thank you very much), where you get to know everyone by sight if not by name. There's a professor at said institution that I have to be in contact with fairly often due to the particular nature of my servitude. He's a very nice person...older, ponytail, Birkenstocks, and T-shirt everyday without fail- in other words, Total Aging Hippy and Not Anyone I'd EVER Be Attracted To (so put those thoughts away you sicko). He's just one of those relaxed and confident Cool People...one of those people who if they talk to you in a more personal manner, you feel like YOU'RE cool too- cause you must be if this person is taking the time to converse.

Well, I've seen this person several times in my neighborhood, but keep forgetting to ask him if he lives around there- so today I when I saw him walking along the sidewalk when I turned onto my street I thought to my self:

Hmmm, I should say hi. That wouldn't be too hard would it?

Well, those could be considered the proverbial Famous Last Words, because it not only was apparently Too Hard for me, but it also turned into a full blown Incident.

First of all, I'm in a car, so right away this interaction is not going to be simple. Am I a Yells-to-People-on-the-Side-of-the-Road kind of person? No. I very much am not, but for some reason today I lost my senses and decided that I WAS one of those people. (Probably because I actually exercised after work today and apparently my Body and Brain can not be trusted to work in any sort of conjunction.)

Now...if the fact that I was about to yell to someone (who I don't know that well) on the side of the road wasn't an embarrassing enough procedure...it was complicated by the fact that I was also situated BEHIND him due to the two cars in front of me at the light. (Although, to clarify, this is not some busy intersection- it's a tiny one in my small city neighborhood. But still...)

So...against any better judgement (that wouldn't be MY better judgement, since I obviously don't have any)...down goes the window and...and...

...(takes deep breath)...

I YELL HIS NAME.

Instead of ignoring me like he probably should have...he swings around and...

..that's right...

I WAVE FRANTICALLY.

More than once. Probably about three times, which could be considered in such a small time frame- A Continuous Frantic Wave. Like out of the three possible cars, he's not going to see the one where the crazy person is waving hysterically.

That's when it really starts to go downhill. Wait, you say...worse than you have already made it for yourself? Yes, my friend...worse than I have already made it for myself.

Because now I think:

'Oh, maybe he doesn't see me through my windshield!' (Despite the fact that he's looking in my direction and my window is the customary Made of Clear Glass variety.) 'I think I should wave out of my sunroof!'

Well, ok, that might not have been TOTALLY horrid, except... my sunroof was not open. NOR had my sunroof been open more than maybe..maybe...twice this whole summer. Why did I think it would be open now? That I can not tell you my friends.

So my hand goes up with the amount of enthusiasm it had just demonstrated when waving (i.e. frantic and hysterical) and...that's right...crashes with a audible and somewhat painful 'THUMP' against the glass of my Almost Never Used Sunroof.

Sigh.

So then...because I can't just leave it there... I can't just leave The Embarrassing List at a mere FOUR...including but not limited to:

1. Yelling loudly from car to Person Minding Their Own Business on the Sidewalk.
2. Waving frantically.
3. Thinking person cannot see me through glass.
4. Slamming hand against Closed and Always Closed Sunroof.

I...(wait for it)...

TELL HIM WHO I AM.

As in...(wave, wave, THUMP, wave, wave)..."Its Hope!"

Wow. There's really nothing to say to that other than what he said which was:

"I can see that."

DOH!

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

"Um...right...well, uh...I've seen you walking here a couple times so I...uh...do you live around here?"

Turns out he does and was polite enough to make brief small talk (I had to watch for cars coming up behind me since I was blocking the way with this ridiculous display of well...ridiculousness), but seriously. Wow.

Smooth. Smooth all the way. If there was a SmoothFest in Smooth Town with a Grand Smooth Award given at the end, I would most certainly be the Grand Smooth Award Winner. Just call me Smoothy McSmootherson.

So....so much for being in the Cool Club. Tomorrow I'm back to eatin' lunch with the Freaks and Geeks- which...lets be honest...is probably a much safer place for me to be.