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.

RABID RODENTS DO NOT A HAPPY SWIMMING HOLE MAKE

Last night, as I sat in my cave, watching the news on the magic box, I...

...ok, ok...FINE....I wasn't watching the news. Everybody knows I don't watch the news, nor do I read the news PAPER. (Couldn't just leave it alone and let me tell my story could you? Had to call me out for never watching anything with more substance than Entertainment Tonight didn't you!? Sheesh. Blog readers these days...)

Anyway...I was watching My Name is Earl (happy now?!) and during the commercial break, they reviewed the headlines that would be airing on News at 11. In said highlights, they covered one of the funniest news stories I've heard in a long time. The news anchor reported that in a Baltimore area park, three people were attacked by...

...wait for it...


A RABID BEAVER.


Wait...what?! A rabid what? First, being the extremely immature human being that I am, I had to do a little Beevis and Butt Head inspired chuckling at the word beaver. ("Huh huh...she said beaver".) But even when one's mind is not totally residing in the gutter, the fact that people were attacked by a rabid beaver is still REALLY FUNNY. (Yes, probably not to the people who were attacked, but we're not concerning ourselves with them at the moment.)

I mean picture it...people pack a picnic lunch and drive to the reservoir with hopes high and visions of sparkling swimming holes dancing in their heads. They relax, maybe eat a little something, then slip into the water for some good ol' fashioned aquatic fun.

Then, out of nowhere...cue Jaws music....NOW!...Duh duh....duh duh....duh duh...stealthily making it's way towards the happy group comes...duh duh...duh duh...DUH DUH DUH DUH DUH RABID BEAVER! Screams of terror ensue as Rabid Beaver, Monty Python style, latches onto the throat of one of the unsuspecting swimmers, sending the rest into a panic.

Terrifying, yet oddly hilarious, no?

I'm sure that when describing the scene in years to come, the victims- when confronted with the ill concealed snickers of their audience- will say something like:

Well, that was no ordinary beaver! That was the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered marmot you ever set eyes on! Look, that beaver had a vicious streak a mile wide! It was a killer! He had huge, sharp-- eh-- he can swim about-- look at the bones!

And their audience will nod indulgently and poor Rabid Beaver Victim, realizing that his or her attempts at drama are futile, will slink away to join the other remaining Beaver Victims at the bar to reminisce about that sunny day at the park where they all were attacked by the very real, very alive...

Rabid Beaver of Loch Raven Reservoir.

BY GOLLY, BRAIN’S BACK!

Yes, dear friends, Brain is back and has shed the unflattering, yet previously apt, monikers of Crotchety and Old. Brain, although not un-crotchety enough to warrant being called Young and Perky, has at least upgraded to Grumpy. Which is an improvement!

What has Brain been up to in the last few months you ask? Well, my cherished readers, it’s been a harrowing couple of months for Brain I’ll tell you that. We last left Brain teetering precariously close to The Cliffs of Deadbeat. Brain had stopped producing ideas and was lounging around Skull’s property with no regard to rent or payment of any kind- and as you remember, Skull was through with such nonsense! The eviction notice went up and Skull waited for payment. And waited. And waited. (Skull is a Slum Lord yes, but Skull does have some compassion, and Skull gave Brain much longer than most Slum Lords would have to pay up.)

But alas, Ideas never came, and Skull remained unpaid. So Skull did what any self respecting Skull Lord would do and threw Brain’s belongings (there weren’t many) out on the sidewalk.

Well!

You’d think Brain would have straightened up and flown right so to speak, after all, Brain was homeless! But no, my friends, Brain became content...that's right... living in a van, down by the river. And what was worse, Brain even resorted to using the paper that used to serve as Idea Collectors for nothing but rollin’ doobies!

Sigh. Where was Chris Farley when Brain needed him? Brain clearly needed a good talkin' to.

Anyhow, Brain lived the Van Life for awhile, and enjoyed it thoroughly (‘who needs a Skull anyway”), but quickly ran out of paper for doobie rollin’ and that’s when life got hard. Eventually, Brain was even forced out of the van when Repo Man came to collect Past Due Van Payments. After that, Brain found that living in a VAN down by the river is fun, but just living down by the river is a drag.

So Brain dragged Brainself out of the proverbial Gutter, and scrounged together Some Ideas. After a few practice runs, Brain got back into the swing of things and it wasn’t long before Brain was able to use Brain’s Considerable Wit and Dashing Good Looks to charm the way back into Skull Village. (Skull’s a sucker for Considerable Wit and Dashing Good Looks.)

So in conclusion, Brain is back, but Brain knows that if Brain slacks on Ideas again, that Skull won’t be so forgiving. After all- Hell Hath No Fury Like a Skull Scorned.

So Brain, don’t go get all lazy and rest on the laurels of this one lousy post ya’ deadbeat. Are you listening to me, Brain?! Brain!!!

Future Laziness will Not Be Tolerated.

MY BRAIN THE RAISIN

It's official. My Brain has shriveled up. It has shriveled up into a Lazy Good for Nothing Crotchety Old Brain and has become a Bad Tenant. There it sits, lying about in my skull taking up space without providing me the Ideas that serve as its rent. I mean seriously. Does it think I'll just let it stay there without giving me anything in return? My skull is not called a Slum Lord behind its back for nothing- Skull expects payment! Payment in Brilliant and Amusing Anecdotes on which this Very Important Blog subsists.

Well dear friends, Skull has tacked the eviction notice up on Brain's door, threatening violence unless ideas are provided, so hopefully this dearth of posts will not continue.

Until then my friends, Skull offers up Amusement From Another Source to tide you over. I give you...

Burrito Cat.

Enjoy until next time.

I'LL HAVE THE PORTOBELLO MUSHROOM ON FOCCHACIA WITH A SIDE OF DOUCHBAG

In the city where I live, there are several places that I frequent due to the atmosphere and the lack of types of people that I would rather not socialize with on my off time. Therefore, I frequent establishments that tend to cater to the Brooding Self Important Artist crowd and the Covered In Head to Toe Irony Hipster crowd. So imagine my surprise when I was seated at a favorite dining establishment (which is located in the center of the "Arts and Entertainment District" and across from the Quaintly Run Down and Slightly Grungy Indie Movie Theater) and there sitting next to me were four people who clearly...

Did Not Fit In.

The first indication that these people Were Different was that each of the males in the party (there were three) were each dressed in something Polo.

Now, a Polo shirt in and of itself, is not a crime. There is nothing wrong with them (unless the collar is flipped up which is an entirely different matter). But when the whole table is decked out in Polo, it gives off a very specific vibe...

Now, although I was surprised to see them, just their difference in appearance alone was not enough to warrant disdain. We here at the Very Important Blog are tolerant of differences in others, and if Head to Toe Polo is someone's bag, then rock on with your Polo self. No, no. The disdain came after the actions of these Polo People were observed and duly noted.

There were several offenses (I will list them below, saving the worst of which for the very last):

Misdemeanor #1: The Girl with Huge Rock was clearly Tanorexic. Disappointing, but not too serious. We'll just give her a fine.

Misdemeanor #2: The young man who happens to "Like Young Bitches" conversed at length about the country club sports he was clearly the master off. Again, irritatingly ridiculous, but not too serious. We'll give him a fine too.

Now we will move on to Felonies- which in our great system of government require trial by a jury of one's peers. I will let the jury decide their fates for the following:

Felony #1: Likes Young Bitches and Pale Yellow Polo Sweater found out they were brothers of the same frat which resulted in an elaborate display of Arguing about The Proper Execution of the Frat Handshake.

Felony #2: Likes Young Bitches and Pale Yellow Polo Sweater engage in a complicated verbal duel of "I Was More Important in the Frat When I Was There Than You Were When You Were There". This included descriptions of "Officer Robes" which were shed during sex with, I can only infer, Young Bitches; and other attempts at Frat One Upmanship.


Felony #3: The males at the table had lengthy discussions on which one of them the waitress was hot for and which one "could totally bang her" (I assure you, it was none of them).

Now, the topic of sex brings us to the most grave of offenses. Those with delicate constitutions may want to skip to the end.

(I shudder even while I type.)

Felony #4- With charges of Douchbaggery in the First Degree
Pale Yellow Polo Sweater, whenever attempting to communicate that sexual relations had occurred, or would hopefully occur, between him and a member of the opposite sex (or between a friend whose story he was relating and a member of the opposite sex)...instead of saying "had sex", "banged", "screwed", "porked", "poked", or even "fucked" would instead...

...bend his arms at the elbow making a 90 degree angle, pump them back and forth while simultaneously...

(wait for it...)

...thrusting his hips in the opposite direction.

Did this occur one time? Which was clearly, CLEARLY enough? No. No it didn't ladies and gentlemen of the jury. It occurred NO LESS than FOUR TIMES. Each time more pumps were added, so the amount of time the embarrassing display went on increased accordingly (me thinks the number of pumps were directly correlated to the number of drinks that had been consumed). Also, this action is ridiculous enough when someone is standing and has freedom of movement. Think of what it would look like if someone was seated in a chair, at a table, in a restaurant.

Seriously. I don't think I've seen anyone do that (excluding Will Farrell in Wedding Crashers- "MA! The MEAT-loaf!") since I was twelve and the people doing it were also twelve.

Do you know how utterly excruciating it was not to mock Yellow Sweater right to his face (tables were REALLY close so I was practically sitting across from him)? It was TERRIBLE. I think I should seek damages due to the emotional pain and suffering I endured by having to hold in said mockery.

So ladies and gentlemen of the jury, there you go. All accounts of the Douchbaggery that I was forced to witness on an otherwise pleasant Saturday evening.

Will you not do the right thing?

Will justice not be served?

MORE INDICATION OF THE HIGH CLASS NATURE OF THE VERY IMPORTANT BLOG:

Checking SiteMeter for the Google Searches that lead people to this blog has become my new favorite hobby (yes, I will give you No Life and raise you Bored As Hell). I listed three in the below post, but since then there have been so many more- ALL of which indicate the level of class in which this Very Important Blog happens to fall- so I wanted to list them here for your own enjoyment:

a. Slimy feet
(Yup, I feel ya there. Slimy feet are the WORST)

b. Eye poking nipples
("poking nipples" seems to be a common theme- see Exhibit G and previous post- but eye poking nipples is an interesting variation on this theme)

c. Fart fungi odor (I got nothing for this one...sorry about your fart problem.)

d. Foofaraw skin
(What? How do these two words go together?)

e. Bug things in the 1980s
(My personal favorite...I wonder what bug thing this person was trying to find...any ideas?)

f. Everyone is of equal importance
(Wait...how did this get in here? It clearly doesn't fit in with the nature of this Blog.)

g. Poking nipples blog
(Again with the poking nipples...)

h. Bump proof lock blog posts
(What's a bump proof lock and why would someone blog about it?)

I was looking through all of these with my boyfriend, who thought it was hilarious that all these bizarre and often disgusting-"fart fungi odor" is a perfect example- searches were linked to my blog (sure buddy laugh it up...where's YOUR blog? Oh wait, you don't have one because you happen to have a fulfilling and important career as a scientist studying cancer and have no need for such frivolous time wasting. Right...I forgot. My mistake...Sigh...I hate when people are doing meaningful things with their lives...) But ANYWAY, I digress, he thought the funniest one was the person who was looking up:

"reasons for facial tics"

Some poor person was looking up reasons for why they have some horrid facial tic and they got linked here. Needless to say, they didn't stick around long. I suppose that reading all about Hope's disdain for wet feet and the Communist Leanings of Local Squirrels isn't top priority when one is dealing with involuntary facial spasms... Poor soul. I hope they have found relief from their tic.

ASS IS JUST TWO LETTERS SHORT OF CLASS

I was doing an inquiry about who reads my blog (answer: almost no one) and where they come from (answer: pretty much no where) and apparently, several people in the last few days (several = three) have stumbled upon my blog while doing google blog searches.The things they were searching for speak for themselves as to the quality and intellectual nature of this here Very Important Blog. These things being:

• "Rash from Tics"*
• "Constant Smell of Farts"

And my personal favorite:

• "Poking Nipples"

What do these searches indicate about The Very Important Blog?

They indicate that this blog has CLASS.


*I can only assume they meant TICKS- as in the blood sucking bug things

THE SHIGGS- IT'S GOIN' AROUND

Everyone has at least one of those people at their workplace that rolls their eyes and acts like you're a filthy peasant any time you dare to ask them a simple(and reasonable!) question. They usually roll their eyes and scrunch their face up in an extremely unflattering expression, because how dare you waste their time with such trivial nonsense?!

Well, one of my friends at work (ok, lets be honest...my ONLY friend at work- we'll call her Work Friend) had a run in with one of these Eye Rollers yesterday. Work Friend happened to be in another building of our place of employment looking to speak with someone there. She didn't know what this person looked like (she works in a different building and has only worked there since about July) and ended up making the mistake of asking the very person she was looking for where she could be found. WELL! Instead of saying "That's me" like most reasonable people would do, muchas rolling of los ojos and scrunching up of la cara ensued. HOW DARE Work Friend make such a grievous error in the midst of Such an Important Person!

Was the Roller of Los Ojos wearing a name tag? No. Was the Roller of Los Ojos standing in her office where there is a large name plate somewhere in direct view? No. Was the Roller of Los Ojos in the hallway looking like any other person who works in that building? Yes. Is she famous? No. Does she have an E! True Hollywood Story? No. Do people spend millions to purchase her eyelashes on Ebay? NO!

So...there's no reason why work friend should know who she is.

Work friend of course came to me to complain (and I since DO know the indentity of the Eye Roller and could relate- she can be identified by the snotty string of pearls that she always wears- although today the pearls were replaced with a scarf tied around her neck- ick) and after at least...oh...ten seconds of serious discussion, we came to the conclusion that This Person obviously has an Inflated Sense of Their Own Importance and therefore must be given an Appropriate Nickname and then be made fun of mercilessly- and so, the below email correspondence was born:

Hope: I've worked here the same amount of time and more people probably know who I am- and I am of course...a nobody- so what does that say about you S.Higgs? What does it say? It says that you're less known than the sad little Office Ass in room 301.

Work Friend: Yupper. Shiggs definitely suffers from delusions of grandeur.

Hope: Shiggs! A new nickname! To be placed among the other greats like- El Gordo, The Amish, The Curly Headed Minion, and the others!

It sounds like a skin condition.

Work Friend: Like scabies.

Hope: And ring worm.

Work Friend : Heh heh heh

Hope: Shiggs is a ring shaped fungus.

Work Friend: I think it is caused by a small bug that burrows under the skin…

Hope: Hmmm that might be more accurate. The pearls that the bug leaves behind as it's eating your dead skin cells causes extreme irritation and itching and comes with a nasty rash that almost always shows up on one's face.

Work Friend: It also causes the infected to lose control of their facial muscles. They develop uncontrollable facial tics and experience spontaneous nose crinkling.

Hope: Which can be abated slightly by wearing a scarf tied tightly around the neck, cutting off some blood circulation and therefore making the tics less severe.

Work Friend: Yes. Another common side-effect is a that the infected develops a predilection for auto-erotic asphyxiation. On account of the developing fondness for tight neckerchiefs.

Hope: Although the increasing severity of the tics and facial rash over time if left untreated causes the patient to be less and less able to indulge in their fetish with others due to the patient's growing unattractiveness.

Work Friend: Yes. I have heard that it also causes the skin to turn fake-and-bake yam-colored and causes facial features to appear tight and pinched.

Hope: And patients that have progressed as far as the Yam Stage tend to be sexually frustrated due to the unwillingness of others to engage in their favored sexual practices with them. This results in increasing irritability and unfriendliness in the patient due to the patient's lack of prospects.

Work Friend: She looks terrible - I hear she's got the Shiggs

Hope: Gasp. I believe she DOES have the Shiggs. And a very advanced stage I would guess, judging by the Yam Colored skin and the propensity for running people over with her car- which indicates the increased irritability commonly associated with the Yam Stage.

Work Friend: It truly is a devastating disease. We need your support. For just pennies a day we could * Cure* Shiggs. Please – make a donation today! With your help we can see an end to yam-faced, pearl-encrusted, neckerchief-wearing auto-eroticism enthusiasm associated with Shiggs in our life-time .

Hope: We need to raise Shiggs awareness in our society! There needs to be a Shiggs ribbon to put on cars. We should have a walk-a-thon.

Work Friend: Definitely a walk-a-thon. A phone-a-thon, like for Jerry's kids would be excellent! That is a cause that I can get behind 100%. We should have t-shirts and bumper stickers made – Stop Shiggs now!

Hope: Hahaha. And we could sell scarves as a fundraiser!

Work Friend: Scarves dotted with stop signs that read Shiggs instead of STOP. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Hope: We're geniuses. Why does no one realize that? Think of what we could do in marketing.

UGG

Eating McDonald's for lunch two days in a row does not a happy tummy make. Blech.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY:

LETS GET OUR INTERNATIONAL WOMENS DAY ON!

Today’s International Women’s Day Theme here at Important Blog is:



Why women’s liberation you say? Didn’t that already happen? Haven’t women already been liberated? Aren’t men and women equal now?

Well, my friends, the answer is no, no, and definitely not!

Over at The National Council for Research on Women, they provide a very comprehensive list of the many reasons why the women’s liberation movement is still relevent and why it still needs to be very much alive, but I’m going concentrate on just a few that I feel really indicate the inequality that still exists between men and women in the world today.

First:

Women are still trafficked. Women and girls are the majority of the 800,000 to nearly 4 million people trafficked internationally every year.

An article on CNN.com details the struggle of one girl who was sold at age five by her parents to a brothel that caters to sex tourists and is very much worth reading to gain more insight on this issue. Please go and read the whole article because it is truly enlightening, but for the purposes of this blog, here are some important facts presented in the article related to the trafficking of women and children for the sex trade:

• More than 1 million children in global sex trade each year, U.S. State Dept. says
• 50,000 to 100,000 women and children involved in Cambodia's sex industry alone
• Gang rape, AIDS, torture afflict the women and children in this field

So, these women and children need to be liberated in the most literal sense of the word.

Second:

Girls are still unwanted in many countries.
In many countries, including India and China, girl children are still considered less desirable by parents, many of which are neglected, put up for adoption, or killed.

You may say, what does that have to do with me? At least women in the U.S. are equal right?

Negative GhostRider!

Right here in the U.S.:

Women are still underpaid. Women earn only 76 cents to every dollar earned by men – and have done so for the past 20 years!

Seriously. Ew. If that doesn’t scream “Women Still Need Liberating!” I don’t know what does. Remember, women only got the right to be involved in the political processes of this country less than 100 years ago! (Which is why we ALL HAVE TO VOTE- we haven’t had that right for very long and our grandmothers fought very hard for that privilege- so we sure as hell better use it.)

One example of late that proves that women are indeed NOT considered equal in this country is the question:

Are we ready for a woman President?

How many times have you heard this as we head into the 2008 Presidential Election? I have heard it way more times than I'd like to recall. If we were truly considered equal, than this question would never be voiced, because no one ever wonders if we’re ready for a human president.

(This of course also applies to any minority running for President.)

So in short my friends- don’t get all lazy and rest on the laurels of those who came before. There are still many steps that need to be taken (cheesy metaphor alert!) on the road to gender equality- the majority of which I wasn't able to mention here for lack of time and space.

Support Women’s Liberation and support Blog Against Sexism Day- there are tons of blogs involved, so check them out!

And now, I leave you with a final thought:

*Many thanks to The National Council of Research on Women for the information that I gathered from their site.

*Thanks also to feministing for the image above.

**To any concerned readers- my extremely pointless and nonpolitical posts will resume tomorrow. This issue warranted a step off the Pointless Path onto Serious Street, if only for a moment. I thank you for your support and understanding.

TOMORROW IS BLOG AGAINST SEXISM DAY:

So if you could just go ahead and blog about that tomorrow, that would be greeeaaaat, OK?

Oh, oh, and I almost forgot....I'm also gonna need you to go ahead and blog about that on sunday, too...

THE SUN WILL COME OUT TOMORROW

But NOT tomorrow! TODAY! The sun has come out TODAY! Why? Because I have WINSTON! (See post below). I actually think Winston has the power to control the sun. Why you say? What proof do I have?

Oh you doubting Thomases...

BECAUSE...the second I finished writing that post about how Winston has become the figurative Rainbow in my Dreary February Life...the sun ACTUALLY came out. The actual sun physically came out. RIGHT THEN!

WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED?

Winston is magic.

AND THEN IT WAS MARCH

February is the blahist month ever.

In February's defense, its not really February's FAULT...its nothing having to do with the personality of February, I'm sure that February is a very nice and intelligent month...and its not February's FAULT that it happens to occur in the United States during the yuckiest time of year. That blah time when everyone is sick of winter but its not spring yet and the weather just can't ever get it right. So, don't worry Februrary, I'm sure that someone loves you- probably someone in the southern hemisphere where its summer- but...much as I hate to say it to your face...that someone is not me. And, just as the styles of the 1980's overstepped their boundaries and coated the Early 90's with Aqua Net- the Ick of Februrary tends to ooze right over the line and infect March too.

That being said, imagine my joy- my utter GLEE!- at finding a rainbow shining through the rainy, muddy CRAP that is March 2.

Was it a real rainbow you ask? Shining through the clouds as I drove to work today? No. Don't be silly. That wouldn't cause GLEE! - Wonder and Awe perhaps- but not GLEE!

No, my friends, the visual image that caused my day, month, week, and most likely even YEAR to brighten like Courtney Love's unfortunate gold lame frock was:

WINSTON.

I highly recommend FourFour in general, I check in daily and it rarely fails to amuse, but the real gem within the Witty Words of Wisdom and Whimsy is Winston the Cat. And the series of pictures posted today is the Shiny Gold Star upon the Winston Christmas Tree.

Do go and see. Go pay homage to the Point of Light within this blah February/March season. Won't you? Won't you go and and see? It'll change your life.

I GARE-ON-TEE.

NEVER:

Agree to design a flyer for an event sponsored by several different committees, for you will have to make more physical changes to it than Brittany Spears' hair goes through in any given month and your "Thanks To:" at the bottom (which you were forced to include) will take up more room on the flyer than the description of the actual event making said flyer (that you spent hours trying to make visually pleasing) look UGLY and which will STILL induce complaining by those who think they were left off.

So. In short, if asked:

JUST SAY NO!

LITTLE KNOWN FACT ABOUT HOPE

I hate wet feet. HATE. WET. FEET. Unless my feet are in a swimming pool, ocean, lake, or the shower- my feet should NOT be wet. Not wet from rain, not wet in Spain, not wet from a puddle, not wet from a muddle, not wet from a spill, not wet from a kill, not wet from sweat, not wet from a pet, not wet on a plane, not wet on a train, not wet in a car, not wet in a bar. My feet should NOT BE WET.

Wet feet have the definite potential to ruin my day- even what would have otherwise been a GREAT DAY. Why? Because always in the back of my mind is "Ew my feet feel gross". No matter what wonderful things happen that day...the refrain of "Ew my feet feel gross" is plastered across those wonderful events like a water mark (pun intended).

So why did I decide to provide you with this worthless (and semi disgusting) information about myself TODAY? Why am I gracing your mind with the image of my nasty slimy feet sitting under my desk making me grumpy TODAY? WHY?

Because THEY ARE.

Darn these too thick- but so cute! Argyle!- socks stuffed into shoes that- although also extremely cute- have NO ventilation. (As a result I'm sure...of being made of pleather and purchased at Target, but that's beside the point). It's only 11:30 and I have 5 more hours of nasty slimy feeling feet under the desk. It is NOT hot in my office. There should not be sweat ANYWHERE!

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!

WORDS I HATE AND NEVER WANT TO HEAR AGAIN: INSTALLMENT ONE

The following is a list of words I have come across a lot lately and have had quite enough of. This is just installment one because I want to break it up into categories as not to overwhelm. Installment one deals with vocabulary relating to children. Now, its no secret that I don't really LIKE children (I think they're cute from a far. From VERY a far) so, perhaps I'm biased, but I know that I'm not alone in a few of these...even among those who have spawn of their own.

Baby Bump - Seriously? Could we PLEASE stop hearing this word? The celeb "Bump Watch" is making me want to vomit. (Sometimes...people just have a pooch there in the lower abdomen area! It doesn't mean your preggers, cause if it did, I've been pregs for 20 years now.)

Playdate - What happened to just "we met up and our kids happened to be there" OR "our kids met up to play" OR JUST "We got together"? Why the special word? It just adds to the many words/phrases that make parents seem like they lost all normal word function once their egg hatched.

Mommy Wars - No one is EVER going to come to a consensus on who's a bad mother/good mother based on breast feeding vs. formula, working vs. staying home, etc etc etc, so lets stop with the "mommy wars." Look, if you don't lock your kids up in the basement and systematically torture them- you're doing all right. Do you feed them something? Ok then. (And could we find a less irritating phrase than "mommy wars"? No one over the age of 7 should be using the word "mommy.")

And lastly, a phrase used often within "mommy war" diatribe:

Breast is Best - It rhymes. One of the words is breast. Another of the words rhymes with breast. The only other word involved is "is". Enough said.

POTTY PERILS AND TOLIET TERROR

Has this ever happened to you?

You enter a bathroom, prepare to do your bidness, and go to take a seat. Then, due to the fact that the particular toilet you’re using is shorter than the one you are accustomed to, you experience momentary panic on the way down- right at the level where your usual toilet would be located. The following quickly runs through your mind:

“Oh shit…I’m going down…did I sit too far to the right? AM I MISSING THE TOILET COMPLETELY? Am I about to fall-bare ass first-on the dirty bathroom floor?!?! CAN I NOT EVEN BE TRUSTED WITH THE SIMPLE TASK OF TAKING A LEAK?!?!"

Only to have a wave of relief wash over you when PLUNK, you hit the toilet seat and not the floor and realize that this toilet must just be lower than the one you’re used to. Phew.

What’s that? You say that’s never happened to you?

Oh.

Well…uh…yeah...um...never mind. Me either. I was just thinking that it COULD happen...and this would probably be what it would be like if it did...uh...happen.

SERIOUSLY?

From the New York Post:

January 18, 2007 -- This bum really can't catch a break - an Upper East Side antiques dealer has filed a million-dollar lawsuit demanding the vagrant vamoose from the sidewalk grate in front of his shop.
The less fortunate often loiter in front of Karl Kemp and Associates Antiques at 833 Madison Ave., standing on the small grate for heat, but Kemp says they're cooling off his business by blocking the shop window...
"You make a wonderful effort to have an attractive window, people come out from the building next door, they don't see him and they trip over him," he said. "It happened twice last August. One lady hurt herself." (Emphasis mine)

That's awful! I mean, what are the homeless doing trying to get warm in front of this poor man's shop?! Don't they see they're ruining the wonderful effort that he spends to have an attractive window? Rich people don't want to see bums getting warm when they're on the way to pay entirely too much money for a piece of furniture- it makes them feel uncomfortable! And uncomfortable rich people do not Patrons of Over Priced Antiques make! Which hurts business!!!

Seriously. What are they going to do- repossess this dude’s house? Maybe his car? Maybe they’ll just impound his shopping cart until he pays.

And what about the lady who "hurt herself"? All you have to do to avoid a Tripped Over A Homeless Person and Broke a Hip accident is to look where you're going. If you hurt yourself falling over a full grown person sitting on the street, you don't deserve to walk.

Jeez.

TO MAKE US ALL MORE SMARTER

Dictionary.com's Word of the Day is:

foofaraw \FOO-fuh-raw\, noun:1. Excessive or flashy ornamentation or decoration.2. A fuss over a matter of little importance.

What a fun word! FOO-fuh-raw. FOOOOOOO-fuh-raw. I will now attempt to use it in a sentence...

"The holiday's are much more fun if you don't get caught up in all of the shopping foofaraw. "

Neato. New words are phun. I will try to use it at least three times today in order to cement it into my everyday vocabulary. I'll let you know how that works out for me.