Just Leave it At Free Candy

I have mixed emotions about Halloween. Of course, as kid I loved this holiday. One, I lived in a country neighborhood with not a lot of kids and a lot of lazy adults. So basically, I owned every house that foolishly put out the bowl of candy and the sign that read "Please take one." (In my neighborhood, you either got there first and cleaned it out, or the other kid, you were competing against, was going to take the entire bowl. Hey, just plain Darwinism at its finest.) Two, I loved this holiday for the sheer fact that for the ensuing two weeks (yes, it usually only took me that long to kill 50 houses' bowls of candy) I was going to be allowed to eat candy at any point of the day. Why? Because my dear mother was raised by a Depression fearing man, who did not believe in wasting anything - so, the good candy I received/stole had to be eaten. I know, even a group of orphaned kids couldn't sing a song sadder.*

Now, the other part of Halloween I'm just not a fan of. Why couldn't they just stop it at - give kids candy. The end. Why did they have to decide that this holiday also has to be about blood, death, fear and urine trickling down someone's leg? I just don't get it. I don't get the scary movies, I don't get the thrill of seeing elementary school kids dressed as...well...as...killers? I mean, come on, was Dracula just a poor and misunderstood guy, who was really bad at heavy petting and necking? Were witches just bad magicians, who just stumbled upon black magic and hating chicks, who lived in the forest?** Were zombies really just dumb people, who were actually alive and just needed someone to help them with their lack of speech and motor skills? Come on people. Halloween is a weird holiday. It gives license for men to dress as women, nurses to become whores and adults to dress up as fairies to work.

Why couldn't the Celts just leave it at candy? Free candy to everyone? It was brilliant.

*Annie
**Snow White

Anyone Want My Chair

For about two months I've been trying to sell my crappy office chair. I've posted alluring ads on craigslist, I've spread the word about the "deal of a chair" at work and I've even dropped the price three times. Unfortunately, I was never able to make the sale. Now, I would like to tell you that my chair remained unwanted because people in the greater Los Angeles area are cheap bastards and don't recognize quality...but that would be a lie. Actually, the reason I couldn't sell the stupid chair is because I'm a horrible salesperson. How horrible?

Well, about a month ago someone replied to my ad and said they wanted to buy my chair. Excitedly, I tightened the screws, gave it one more sit, and then explained how it was time for it to live somewhere else. Fifteen minutes later, two chicks walked into my apartment and started to inspect the chair. Now, this should have been an easy transaction. Unfortunately, before I could stop myself I started to tell them everything that was wrong with the chair. I told them the back of the chair was a little unsteady, the arm rests sometimes stuck AND I even found myself taking them into my bedroom to show them my new and BETTER office chair. Within two minutes, they were out the door with no chair in hand, but the name of a great website!

Mr. Wheelin' (name has been changed to protect the privacy of my husband) saw the entire thing go down, and once they were out the door, he looked at me and said, "Wow. Way to sell that chair."

To be honest, I don't know how it all happened. I remember seeing some cash, and then laughing about how some people try to sell such crap on craigslist.*

*Yes, I too have no idea how anyone converted while I was in Mongolia.

Minor

On Monday I had a minor surgery. I know what you are thinking..."minor surgery. Is there such a thing?" Well, before Monday I definitely believed in surgical gradations. And then, once I got there, and put on my hospital gown and answered questions like, "No, I don't have a living will and yes, you may perform a blood transfusion in case I am dying on the table," did I start to re-think my initial impression. Surgery is surgery...and no matter what, they all sort of suck.

Now, granted my surgery wasn't as involved as my neighbor's EYE REPLACEMENT (yes, I actually heard the doctor say, "Are you ready for your new eye?") or were they fixing a heart that was born in 1927 (my other neighbor), but I was still going under and someone was going to cut me open. (I've been watching Grey's Anatomy while laying on my couch for the past three days - so excuse my "hospital talk.")

Anyway, my minor surgery involved checking out if a tube of mine was open or not. The verdict? Open. When was this established? Actually, a year ago. Why did they decide to check again? Because, for me, making a baby has to be the most difficult and involved process anyone has ever had to endure. (Okay, so actually the initial x-ray wasn't exactly clear, but I'm still going with my first answer.) So now, I'm sitting on the couch with a bloated abdomen and four stitches.

Gee, X-ray Imagining of Santa Monica I sure do appreciate your meticulous approach to x-rays! You did a minor good job.

A Muu Muu Exhibit

If you haven't had the opportunity to see or hear the 360 members of the Mormon Tabernacle choir - you are missing out. Why? Well, first they could sing Lil' Wayne and still sound amazing. And second, their outfits, primarily the ones worn by the females, are utterly indescribable. For example, some might call their dresses muu muus, others might describe them as versatile tablecloths, and to the truly fashion forwards, they might just call them giant tents. Honestly, I don't know who is designing for this group, but I really hope my tithing isn't paying for yards and yards and yards and yards of fabric to create these drapes.

I also wondered what do they do with the outfits once they have been used? Because I have never been to a Mormon Tabernacle Muu Muu Exhibit, or have I seen any of these things at a re-sale store. So, what do you think they do with them?

Here's a few ideas my hubby, my bro-in-law and myself came up with this weekend.

1. Sails for their boating trip to Catalina Island.
2. Donated to the army for parachute training.
3. Pool Covers.
4. Covers for old cars.
5. To cover a home being fumigated.

Got any ideas?

I'm an Idiot

ALLLLrigghhttt...so, I'm an idiot...a complete idiot. I'm as gullible as my older brother always told me. So, the blog I destroyed in my past entry is fake. So?! So, I believed for a solid day that some moron was out there writing about her perfect family and the downfalls of "butt." So?! I'm an idiot. But, in my defense, that past entry was more an expression of my brewing frustration with other blogs I've read. AND, I have read blogs that are as ridiculous as the one I berated. (Though no more examples will be shared.) I'm a blog snob I admit it.

I can also admit that I'm rather embarrassed about my diatribe. As I called my good friend, Emad, and was informed about the satirical nature of my highlighted blog, I was reminded of other moments where I've felt as equally challenged, that is mentally. And because I'm really committing this blog into a self-flogging entry, I thought I might list my top five brainless moments.

1. When I was in fourth grade I heard my first real racist joke. Within five minutes of hearing it, I found a crowd of kids on the playground and re-told the joke. Unfortunately, I forgot about the ONE African-American who attended my school. Of course, at that very second he happened to stop and join the crowd. As I got to the punchline, and everyone was waiting, I made eye contact with him, and said, "Um, I forget how it goes." Obviously, I've never lived down the fact that I butchered a joke...no, I'm kidding.

2. In 8th grade, my friend asked me to break-up with her boyfriend for her. Me, always sharp as a tack, decided to inform this poor guy about the dissolution of his beloved relationship during lunch. So, there we sat in the middle of tables and crowds of kids, and I said, "So, Zach, Jenny doesn't want to go out with you anymore." I thought this would be quick and painless. Unfortunately, Zach held more emotions for Jenny than either of us realized because as soon as I said "she wants out," he started to cry. Yes, cry. And, from hundreds of kids' perspectives it looked like I was the bad guy. All I could do was pat him on the shoulder and mouth to the crowd, "It wasn't my fault. Jenny sucks. J-E-N-N-Y sucks."

3. When I was about 24, my good friend decided to teach me how to drive stick in a parking lot. Within ten seconds, and I'm not exaggerating at all, I managed to slam his car into a parked car. Fortunately, nothing happened to my friend's car, but the parked car was now up on the curb and the bumper was hanging on for dear life. I was truly behind the wheel for ten seconds.

4. When I was a sophomore in high school I was playing a pick up basketball game in our gym. While playing, I managed to steal the ball away from my opponent, and while looking back to talk some trash, I managed to run full speed into the wall. Not only, did I feel like a complete moron, but I also got ten stitches in my chin.

5. Last one...hmmmm...is it sad that's it's hard to narrow them down? Let's see. When I was a senior in college, I went to Bed Bath & Beyond to buy a picture frame. In the course of trying to find the right one, I accidentally dropped one I was looking at and managed to shatter almost an entire wall of picture frames. Instantly, a BBB worker came around the corner, and while I was surrounded by shattered glass, all I could say was, "I'm so sorry." Probably the worst part of this experience was I didn't actually end up buying anything. I would like to say I was too embarrassed to stay, but in actuality they didn't have the right size I was looking for. (Maybe this isn't an embarrassing moment, but the moment where I solidified my trip to hell.)

So, there you have it. I'm an idiot.