“it’s going down, i’m yelling tinnnndderrr…”
holy crap, how lazy and antisocial have we become?? we gave the concept of hotornot.com actual legitimacy and this is the way people are now dating. we’ve invented a type of speed dating that doesn’t even require verbal communication! i can’t get over it. i also can’t get enough of it, it’s too entertaining.
yesterday i came across an overweight man with a tight bob who was dressed in womens’ underwear. oddly enough his name was also “bob.” it was a bathroom selfie (naturally). he was 4 miles away and we had a “shared interest” in Chase Freedom Visa. so much for ever going back to my local ATM. i’m now going to have to use that app where you deposit checks by simply snapping a photo. it seems so dangerous. but so does bob’s bob.
outside of the entertainment-worthy ones, most profiles just make my eyes roll. the run-of-the-mill d-bag whose online existence is just a waste of bandwidth. i’ve noticed trends and the following 5 are some of the worst. they’re littered all over tinder. i see these, i roll my eyes. and friends, my eyes are sick of doing gymnastics.
1) the gym selfie. all this tells me is: 1) you think you’re hot…2) you don’t have any friends who could just take a picture of you…and 3) you spend time in gyms. none of these things are attractive qualities.
2) the fake mustache. maybe you drew it on your finger, maybe it’s on the side of a mug that you’re drinking out of. i still do not understand this obsession with fake mustaches. when did upper lip facial hair become a mainstream joke? wait wait, i actually remember. i think it was 2007.
3) the tribal arm band tattoo. i know, you were young, and they’re really hard to remove.
4) the cliche quote. i had a big journal filled with inspirational quotes in the 7th grade. i read them daily and felt significant. that was many, many moons ago. but i’m all grown up now and i have thoughts of my own. putting a quote on tinder does not make you deep, it makes you unoriginal. and possibly stunted.
5) the bathroom selfie. for some reason these are worse than gym selfies. probably because you’re half naked.
working from home comes with a multitude of special benefits. one of which is the ability to go on a mid-day Target binge between conference calls. i did that today. oh i tested the limits of what that little REDcard can handle (i know exactly how much it can handle because it comes directly from my checking account, which is now depleted. though i did save 5%). i needed kitty litter bags, but i did not walk out with just kitty litter bags.
if you’re feeling a bit disconnected lately (mercury is still in retrograde, and will continue to linger there until the 25th…plenty of time to get to Target) follow the big red dot and share in the joys of over-consumption with fellow members of society, who, for whatever reason, are also pillaging the aisles of a big box store on a wednesday afternoon. you look around and ask yourself, “who are these people?” “do they not have jobs?” “what happens here?” and then you smile at the sweet realization that they’re just like you!! (unless they’re rich housewives who need an activity between morning yoga and afternoon pumpkin spice lattes. in which case you’re just one sugar daddy-or-mamma shy of where they are) and voila, that feeling of interconnectedness has magically returned.
now that you’ve sucessfully reached level 3 on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs pyramid (“love and belonging,” for all those who slept through psych 101) you can go back to shopping. an armfull of clothes that will not survive more than 3 wash cycles? yes, they cost less than detergent. a new cat scratcher, simply because you walked by it? i mean why not. a bottle of Meyer’s multi-surface basil scented cleaning spray even though you have ample supplies at home? it just smells so good. tic-tacs and an orange mango vitamin water energy drink? it’s too easy, you don’t even have to search for it because it’s right there. and guess what else is right there that you weren’t looking for? a $5 DVD of “The Perks of Being a Wallflower.” whoa. you don’t have a DVD player at home, but it doesn’t even matter, the answer is still a resounding YES. why? because you have a sudden flashback to the sweet coming-of-age book / film and remember the wisdom-filled words uttered by the young and troubled Charlie…”We accept the love we think we deserve.” and for whatever reason those words resonate today and they hit you like a cinder block (which you can pick up next door at Ace because they’re on display, they’re cheap, and you can use them for something) and you slip your maxed-out REDcard back into your wallet and walk away knowing that this Target check-out aisle was the only place you were ever supposed to be at this moment in time. and the gratitude comes rushing in.
and then you bee-line it home to dial in for your next work call..
let me preface this short story by reminding you i work in an old converted file room, disguised as an office, hidden somewhere on the 10th floor of a large downtown building. think tornado shelter. or some other small space you share with others for emergency purposes only.
my coworker makes a phone call. i’m thinking “it’s too early for the daily 4 o’clock call to her parents to see if they’re watching Gunsmoke, it’s only 3.”
i hear her politely whisper “yes, hi, i’m looking for a book called ‘how to sleep your way to the top’ by jane miller?” ummmmm…!!! (psst…cell phones and alleyways are amazing inventions for private phonecalls.) she then calls three more booksellers inquiring about the availability of the book, hanging up on one before she can even get the words out due to uncontrollable silent laughter. i finally hear her say to someone “great, could you hold it for me cause i would like to pick it up first thing tomorrow morning.” so i guess it was not a joke.
this is hours after our ceo informs us the company is being sold in a month. let the rat race begin!
i can’t make this shit up. all i can do is let it happen, spit up my diet mountain dew which i purchased from the “honor code refrigerator,” and write about it here.
i recently went for a lovely country road jog in midcoast Maine, where i saw this sign advertising the sale of tomatoes and god only knows what else. i’m no rhodes scholar, but i’m fairly certain there are rules around the use of “etc,” the main one being: you should not use it after listing one lonely item. we sell tomatoes and…some other things, and we’re going to assume you know what those “other things” are. peppers? fresh live bait? explosive pyrotechnic devices? this is Maine after all and downeast folks don’t fuck around.
i have no idea what else these creeps sell besides tomatoes, but i was tempted to follow the arrow simply because their marketing tactics were brilliant and my curiosity had entered the level of “dangerously and irrationally high.” which is the level just below the one where your curiosity caves and you go to find out what the mystery vendor sells besides tomatoes, only to realize that something is you, and you’re now the property of pirates off the north Atlantic coast. so i continued jogging home.
yes, i admit i have picked up some Kick-Ass-Immunity herbal supplement drops while waiting at a Whole Foods checkout line. no, they did not work. neither did Cramp Relief! (at least not as well as 3 Advil and a Twix bar). if i’m putting droplets of a bad whiskey-tasting substance on my tongue, it better be actual whiskey. the folks over at Wish Garden Herb Remedies may be marketing geniuses for bottling up some Yerba Manza root, Valarian root, Black Cohosh root, or any other root they can dig up, and calling it a cure for everything. but if you ask me they’re just bat shit crazy. Mo’Beta Belly, Sexy Time, Emotional Ally, Genius Juice, Welcome Womb (“quiets the uterus”) … if you’ve got an issue, they’ve got the answer. can’t get over that bad break-up? can’t pass your trigonometry quizzes? can’t get that uterus to shut the f*** up? you haven’t been taking your Wild Yam root.
but oh! listed in “Other Ingredients” for every one of their products is: Rocky Mountain artesian spring water. i wonder how they got their hands on such a valuable substance. magic in a bottle. and a wink wink to the shareholders.
so today i saw a new remedy: “Get OVER it! herbs for the end.” the cryptic labeling had me very worried. is there some sort of apocolyptic event on the horizon that i’m not privy to, and yet the Wish Garden Herb Remedies think tank has already tested and approved the perfect potion to prepare for it? $17.99 is pretty steep for two fluid ounces of anything, but being part of the winning team on judgement day is priceless.
i have since learned, through some investigative web browsing, that the “end” they’re referring to is the end of a virus. boring. these are drops you can take when your “cold has got a hold” – because oddly enough that Kick-Ass-Immunity you took at the first signs of the sniffles did absolutely nothing. i’m hoping they will soon concoct an elixir for Buyers Remorse because i’m starting to feel some symptoms.
lavender is supposed to help you sleep, or so i hear. a lavender bath balm before bedtime will ensure uninterrupted REM cycles all night long. but when you’re bathtub is the size of a large sauce pan, bathing for relaxation isn’t really a thing. i could always use a little extra help sleeping because you can’t take Ambien every night. i suppose i could, but then i’d technically be addicted to something and i like to pride myself as not having an “addictive personality” (except when it comes to smarties, gummy bears, or other similar non-chocolately chemically processed sugar candy).
back to lavender. i once had a friend who bought a bottle of lavender spray at Bed Bath & Beyond, which she kept on her night stand and would spray above her bed in the evenings. brilliant, i wanted to do this but i hate the parking lot of BB&B more than i do tossing and turning. luckily i was able to find a little bottle of lavender spray at my local grocery store. for two months now i’ve been squirt squirting the magical sleep spray maybe 5-6 times above my bed, on my pillow, in the general vicinity of where sleep happens. it’s been nothing but glorious; it smells good, it’s soothing, i’ve been sleeping better. yesterday, i read the label on the bottle, apparently for the first time. it’s hand sanitizer. that’s right, hand sanitizer. in fairly large font. “spray into palm, rub hands together, kills 99.9% of germs.” oops.
i haven’t been sick in months. try it.
i think we can all agree that certain overused words and phrases need to fizzle into the ether, so that civilizations thousands of years from now won’t ever need to know how awful and awfully monotonous 21st century conversational language sounded. we haven’t carved on stones in awhile, so we’re safe there. hopefully the internet will just power down one day, taking with it all of these expressions:
“i heart [something]”. heart is just not a verb. it will always and only ever be a noun.
“oh snap!” . saying this ironically does not make it any less annoying.
“fail.” or worse, “epic fail”. ubiquitous phrases will be the demise of the human race.
“awesome sauce”. i’m getting annoyed just writing these. it would be ok if you are trying chalula for the first time ever and you take one bite of your carnitas buritto and scream “holy nuts, this is awesome sauce!!!”
following up a suggestion or question with “GO!” if this doesn’t bother you, well, lucky you. because it’s bothersome. this should definitely move to the top of the list.
“totes”. (acceptable when referring to a monogrammed canvas bag from L.L.Bean.) definitely the worst in the category of abbreviated words.
there you have it. hearing or reading any of the above is like stepping on kitty litter with wet feet. i think you know what i mean.
today i got an AARP membership form in the mail. what?! why does someone out there assume i’m 50? is it because i wear house slippers and feed my cats deli turkey? this is just cruel and unusual. hitting a new age bracket (and a premium increase) for health insurance on my last birthday was a real treat, but this is golden. suddenly the mail surprise i received last week doesn’t seem so bad: i recevied a box from Gerber containing two cans of baby formula. addressed to me at my address. no baby at my address. no baby en route to my address.
my mailman now thinks i’m a retired middle aged new mom. what’s next? coupons for 40% of Chinchilla food from PetSmart? i smell the beginning of a Saturday Night Live character breweing somewhere…and i’ll bet 2 months of my AARP magazine that she looks a lot like an aged Blossom.
granted, i would love to be retired right now at the age of 36, but my new financial advisor can assure you that is not happening. i would even check the little box for the 5 year membership (BEST VALUE), if only just for that “FREE insulated travel bag.” but thankfully, i still have several years until i’m eligible. and incidentally, several years before i can enjoy the luxury of temperature controlled travel items.
so i had a lunch meeting with my new financial advisor today at the capital grille, a fancy steakhouse in Denver that i of course had never been to. the only downtown lunching i ever do is at baja fresh, but that’s only when payday has happened within the week. anyway, i considered driving my crusty old sedan with no air-conditioning and a crushed right front side (the only reason my bumper is attached to the car is because of a fancy string arrangement. string is what holds my car together). i saw the irony in valeting a vehicle worth the price of lunch and i made the better decision of hoofing it over from my office.
hi! i have $20 in my Chase savings account, can you manage my retirement, please?! also, my cat needs $1,000 in dental work, but i need that money for rent. i am definitely interested in where the NASDAQ is headed this quarter…
i enjoyed a nice meal, chatted about things i don’t understand, and got a ride back to my office in his porsche cheyenne. i’m happy to report that because of a bullying mother i did start contributing to a 401K in my early 20s, and after examining my current “porfolio” it appears as though i will be able to retire at the age of never. which is really good news because my job is extremely flexible, allowing me to work remotely, and i’m guessing (fingers crossed!) they’ve got wifi in hospice.
this is the email exchange i had this morning with my friend after she dropped her 9month old baby off at montessori school:
friend: When I dropped Asher off this morning, the bully of the classroom (a one year old named Xabi) was trying to put him in a headlock. Asher stuck out his lower lip and gave me a terrified look. Then his teacher Miss Jamie said “Xabi, we need to be VERY gentle with other babies.” I gave him a dirty look on my way out.
me: oh my god, i just laughed outloud at this [LOLs are strictly forbidden]. a one year old bully. how does a one year old put a baby in a headlock?
friend: Xabi basically got behind Asher and then leaned over and wrapped his arms around his head! And then once he was done terrorizing Asher, he set his sights on this sweet little 5 month old girl named Maeve and started charging toward her! Jamie grabbed him before he could do any damage. Bully!
me: i literally cannot handle this. what sort of R-rated video games is this one year Maeve old playing at home??
friend: No, Xabi is the bully! Maybe his parents should have given him a normal name and he wouldn’t need to act out physically to compensate.
me: can i re-post this exchange to the blog?
friend: Yes! Post away! We really should have an email exchange blog.
so, as poor little asher fights for his life at daycare, xabi moves one headlock closer to juvie, and the 30-somethings continue to prove that the invention of email has a direct (negative) impact on corporate productivity.