Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Hey You With The Blue Umbrella

Say something nice.  Just a friendly reminder.  I know I need it sometimes.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

This is a post about humor but it's not funny. Go figure.

I've never considered myself a funny girl.  I'm more sarcastic than anything.  I'm pretty sure it's not the first thing anyone would say to describe me, "Oh that girl, she's funny."  I'm thinking not.  I have my moments, every now and then.  Then there are those people who are really truly funny, that bring out the funny in you, or is it that they know how to make fun of you in such a way that you just think you are funny.  Isn't humor all relative anyway?  You will find something to be hilarious, while another person won't get it. 
Half of the funny things people say are from movies, comedians, and tv shows anyway.  Is it that that person is hilarious or do they just have a really good memory?  They have the comedic timing, but are just using other's words.  Where did these comedians and writers get this stuff from but from some situation that happened or some other person that might have said something funny one day but didn't have the means to put it out there to an audience and see if it takes.  It's people who see the humor in anything.  Life is funny.  People are definitely funny. 

I've never been good at remembering lines or is it just that I don't rewatch the same movies or shows over and over again to remember them.  If I had a good memory, would I be funnier?  Maybe.

Whatever you do, please don't spend an entire evening quoting a movie start to finish, because that's just sad.  Do you not have anything of your own originality to say?  I know you think that movie is funny, but I'd rather be watching it than listen to you quote it.  A little bitter that I can't quote a whole movie even if I wanted to?  Maybe, but not really. 

I don't know what the point of this post is at all, except to share some of my random observations of late.  I'm not looking to be that funny girl either.  I think I'm kind of that average girl who is mediocre at a lot of things, but likes to travel.  Now that's a mouth full. 

Saturday, August 27, 2011

We Got Our Free Crappy Portrait!

Have you guys heard of the site Free Crappy Portraits?  It all stemmed from a couple friends who used to go down on a boardwalk in California and draw free crappy portraits for people.  They would ask people to tell them a few random facts about themselves and get to drawing.  Now they have a website where people can send in any photo and tell them a bit about themselves.  Then you wait to see how the artist interprets it into a free crappy portrait.

I love this, because you go in with the lowest expectations imaginable, since they aren't hiding the fact that they are the very best amateur artists.  I had a pencil drawing done on the street in NYC once when I was younger, my parents forced me to do it.  It was winter time.  The artist took forever.  You would think he could have sped it up, watching me shivering.  The end result was comical.  I looked like a Russian immigrant just come off the ship.  These guys really think they are capturing you.  Ugh.

Anyway, we sent in this portrait.  We said something like this.
This is my sister, Sydney and I. I'm the one with the turban. She's the cute one. We both love traveling. Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia feels like our second home. We LOVE ice cream! Sydney likes to knit in the winter and she hates it when people call her Cindy. It's SYDNEY! I think foxes are cute, even though I've never seen one in the wild and I can't live without my iced coffee.
It's fun to see how the artist interpreted it and what they decided to use from the random things we said.  My ice cream scoop even has a turban on it.  Love it!!

From this

Get your work of art here!  Thanks, FCP!

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Finding Jewelry That Looks Like A Million Bucks

Most days Forever 21 is not on the top of my list.  The store is sort of overwhelming and scary.  The clothes are jammed onto those racks and you can't hardly see what anything is unless you take each individual shirt out.  Have you seen how big those stores are?  Also, it's sometimes hard to sift through the racks of clothes that look like they will fall apart the first time you wear it while you're wearing it, because it won't have the respect to wait until you get home.  You can find a few pieces that look like they are good quality, even though they are not at all.  

I usually like to head by the jewelry.  It's not as daunting and everything is, for Forever 21 standards, displayed nicely.  Usually I will find one or two things that won't make me look like a pre-teen wannabe.
And I snatch them up.  Like that necklace.  Love getting things for so cheap that appear to be expensive.  

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Summer's End

This week temperatures are predicted to be well over 100 degrees.  All week long.  Every year the summer looms over us like an incoming cloud of doom.  It's not clouds, it's the scorching sun that is truly unbearable.  Every year just when we start to forget summer, there it is, back again.  There is no perfect place, this I know, but the summer is suffocating.  It sucks the life out of you.  By afternoon, it's had it's fun and you are a pile of blubbering mush.  There is no functioning in this weather. 

It's not just the heat that's to blame.  It's this summer, in particular, when things that are completely out of my control, are pushing down on me.  I am happy in the day to day.  The new friends and experiences that are challenging.  And there is fun.  Still I can't help but long for this summer to be over.  The opportunities that are there.  They are just within my grasp, but seem so far away.  My heart aches for a foreign land.  Or maybe I'll be thrown in a totally different direction.  The time to do it is now, but I am not moving.  I never thought I'd be yearning to be able to make a decision.  You always want what you can't have. 

For now I'll just wait and survive this summer knowing that it too will come to an end.  And look to the beginning of more that I know is coming.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Zumba Fever

If there is such a thing, we've got it.

Some friends of ours started going to this little place in South Tucson.  It's not the best part of town and once you head south on 6th it's as if you crossed the border into Mexico.  What better place to go to experience Zumba, a latin inspired dance/exercise class, than South Tucson.  It's in a little room behind a Mexican restaurant.  And it's cheap.  But boy do these ladies dance!

Walking through those doors, it's like my sister and I are going to a foreign country.  Everyone stares.  What are those white girls doing here?  We're here to dance.  To learn through pain and sweat.  I don't have too many curves and I feel kind of hopeless that I will ever learn to shake what little I have.  The instructor is yelling out instructions in Spanish.  She spouts out a speech about trying not to laugh at the gringos.  It's their first time here.  Maybe they will catch on.  She could be saying that or she is giving a pep talk to get ready for the next dance.  We wouldn't know the difference.  Then she looks at us and says a few words, "We're gonna do this..."  Five minutes of instructions in Spanish, then she looks at us, "Ok?"  We try to laugh when others laugh and yell out when they yell out.  It's an adventure.  It's how we like to do things.  If we are completely comfortable, we aren't learning anything about new cultures and dance, mostly dance.  It's not too hard to follow along.  We've joined the party and we don't want it to stop.

Who wouldn't like to dance with no inhibitions, not a care in the world, no feelings of being self conscious, because you are in a room full of women who have some serious curves wearing little skirts that are shiny and chime as they sway back and forth.  And dancing.  Time doesn't even matter when you're dancing.

When it's all over and you are dripping with sweat, you look disgusting but feel amazing.  You go across the street to the little Mexican restaurant for fresh horchata, fish tacos, and girl talk.

Zumba fever.  Yup.

And the only cure.  More cowbell.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

It Was A DIY Day!

After seeing this little DIY tutorial by the amazing Elsie over at A Beautiful Mess, I had to do it.  How great is that?  After a couple Goodwill hunts, I found the perfect little print.  For less than ten dollars, I snagged it.  I decided on a lyric from a She and Him song that I love.  I like how it turned out.  Go make one for yourself and show me the result!



Monday, August 15, 2011

Sunny With a Chance of Awkward

Isn't it great when you meet someone and you just click?  It's as if you had been friends forever.  You can talk about nothing and everything.  There are no long pauses.  You don't have to grasp at things to talk about because you both have that useful skill called making conversation.  It's a good day in non awkward conversation history.  Cherish those moments.  Embrace those words, expressions, thoughts, ideas making sweet music in this grand symphony of a conversation, for the next hundred people you meet will not be so.

Now we all know how much I love a good strange encounter or run-in around here.  Let's add awkward conversations to the list, shall we?  I've been awkward myself at times. I write this from the heart. You are not going to click with everyone unfortunately.  It would be nice if we could avoid all conversations of this variety, but it cannot be helped.  

Don't you love it when you ask some questions and the other person replies with no longer than two syllable answers?

How are you?  Fine.

What have you been up to lately?  Nothing.

So you just got back from vacation? Yeah. 

How was it? Good.  

I get it.  You really don't want to talk to me, and believe you me neither do I.  I'm really trying here.  I'm starting to sweat.  You could help a girl out by giving me something, anything.  Now is when you have to ask a bit more involved question.  Something they have to explain.

Where are you working now?  What do you do there?  

Now the person is warming up.  They explain a bit about their job.  You try to look interested.  Searching for something you can draw from what they are saying to keep the conversation going.  This is hard work.  Who needs a gym membership when there are so many awkward conversations to be had!  You're going to be exhausted after this.  Drink that protein shake down. You are going to need it. 

The problem is that this person will not ask you any questions back.  This is when you start talking to yourself even though there is a person standing there.  

What do I do for work?  Well, I'll tell you what.  

I know you're dying to know what I like to do for fun, right?  

You jammer on while this sorry blank faced, apathetic shell of a person sits there.  It's time to throw out  the big guns.  The questions no one dare ask.  You're getting desperate.  

What was your most terrifying experience from your childhood?  

When did you get that huge scar on your face?  Everyone loves telling their scar stories, right?

When are you due?

Are you a Mac or a PC?

Have you ever considered plastic surgery?  

What are you most looking forward to in your life?  

Are you passionate about anything at all?

Are you constipated?  Because you look a little bit constipated.  

If all else fails and only if all else fails, there is always the weather.  This is the end game of any awkward conversation.  This is when all hope is lost for keeping this charade going and you are at your wits end.  You will be physically shaking and mentally broken.  You may or may not be gnawing on a chicken bone or sucking on your hair.  When it comes down to it, your sanity is worth saving over this sad conversation.  Throw in the towel and walk away, unless you are sitting next to them at a dinner party already at this point before the main entree hits the table.  The night has just begun and you are in for the night of your life.  It's going to be epic.  Think of the stories you will have to tell.  

How 'bout that weather? 

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Old Books Make Me Swoon

Used book stores might be one of my favorite places.  There was the used book store in Downtown Milwaukee, shelves high as the ceiling full of old books.  The beautiful ornate book spines would beckon me to pull them off the shelf and take a closer look.  The lighting was dim as if a few bulbs had burnt out and no one had bothered to change them or noticed or cared.  It gave the whole place an eerie feel, while surrounded by books that had seen so much.  If only they could tell us what they have seen or who had tossed them about and dog eared the pages.  Why did they underline that word?  Whose hands had flipped through these pages?

Then there are those special treasures, the ones with book inscriptions, little endearing notes from the giver to their love, friend, or family.  These are the books that give you a glimmer of insight into their past.  I found one of those books.  It helps me remember a time when guys would give a book as a gift, writing a handwritten note in the front cover to be cherished by the receiver forever.  This would happen back in March of '63, but it should happen more often today.  Maybe it does happen.  I just haven't met the guy who will give me that book with that sweet handwritten note hidden within it's cover... yet.  If I ever have that moment, I think I might be a goner.

There is something to be said about a guy completely enthralled reading a book.  It always makes me do a double take.  So Gentleman take note, if you want to make me or a great many girls I'm sure go weak in the knees, put down that phone and pick up a book.  I'm not talking about an ebook on your iPad or Kindle either.  A real old fashioned book, preferably used with an inscription.

This is why I love old books.  This one book brought me back to a time before texting, ecards, and the instant gratification that all things in this technological age have brought us.  A time when a simple note in a little book was a grand romantic gesture.  Let's go back to that time with these little things that can mean so much.  That time could be now.  

Monday, August 8, 2011

Currently Loving...

I haven't shared any music on here in awhile.  Here's a playlist of some that I have been listening to to get me through the morning and let's face it the whole day.  If you are looking for some good music, listen to this!

Let's Play a Friendly Game of Dinner Eavesdropping

Sometimes you may find yourself in an uncomfortably quiet restaurant.  This can be quite unsettling.  For some reason, a few restaurants haven't come around to the idea that we need a bit of noise to make us feel like everyone in the restaurant isn't over hearing our whole conversation.  Not that our conversations are that eavesdropper worthy, but in a quiet restaurant with my voice (the more animated I get the louder it becomes) people are going to hear me whether they like it or not.  Maybe it's just me that gets uncomfortable, since I haven't gotten the whole whispering in quiet restaurants thing down.  My whisper sounds like a normal person's voice.  I'm not normal.  I think we've established that already.

Let's just say that my friends have pointed out to me on numerous occasions that I am speaking quite loudly and the ladies and gentleman at the table over are laughing at whatever I might be saying.  Notice I did not say they are laughing at me, but in all honesty they most likely are.

The other night, my sister and I found ourselves in one of these restaurants.  It was an Indian place.  And it was delicious.  On this occasion, we didn't have much to talk about.  This is what happens when you work at the same place and live together.  It's a sad situation.

There we were just waiting silently for our food, when the guy at the next table opened his mouth.  You think my voice is loud.  It paled in comparison to this guy's pipes.  Naturally, we did what anyone in a quiet restaurant with nothing to say to each other and a guy talking very loudly right next to us would do.  We listened.  He reminded me of someone I'd met before.  I couldn't put my finger on who it was, but it was someone I had met briefly and who I had found annoying.  I remember that I had tried to get away from this particular person and now we were sitting in a restaurant practically forced to listen to someone who sounded exactly like him.  Wonderful.

They were on a first date.  This guy was killing it.  I was sitting at the next table over and I just wanted to tap him on the shoulder and say you can just stop talking now.  We've heard enough.  The girl he was with was digging him though.  I'm glad they found each other.  It gives all those awkward, obnoxious people some hope.  Are you pointing your finger at me?  Alright, point taken.

I did think to myself is this what others think of me when I'm talking in not so hushed tones in a quiet little restaurant?  Half annoyed half amused.  Maybe.  I am a believer in eavesdropping, not in a creepy way, but if someone is talking that loudly aren't they pretty much opening it up to everyone to listen to what they have to say?  It's just another form of people watching and we all love to do that.  You can learn some interesting things from these loud talkers.  Maybe uncomfortably quiet restaurants are not such a bad thing.  I had a pleasant evening.

 "I hope it works out for you two.  Have fun at the art exhibit," I said in passing.

 Nope, not creepy at all.

But still, I really need to work on that.  Can you hear me now?

Friday, August 5, 2011

Better Than Shark Week

I highly encourage you to unglue yourself from watching yet another shark massacre yet another human and dig through your mom's dresser drawers.  You might just find something like this.

Couldn't believe it had been hiding in the depths of that drawer all this time.  According to my mom, it was her grandmother's.  Why didn't she mention it before?  Sydney and I are going to be fighting over it.   Love!

Also, could someone please fill me in on this Shark Week business?  I keep hearing about it.  References to Shark Week in what I'm reading as a snarky tone or are people just really into sharks?  I don't have cable and actually had to look up what Shark Week meant.  Is it some sort of sporting event?  I'm really not into sports.  Is there a new slang meaning for Shark that I am not aware of?  No, it is literally a week full of shark programing on the Discovery Channel.  I didn't know Shark Week was a thing.  Is it a thing?  Oh, the things I miss out on!

Thursday, August 4, 2011

You Thought You Had Me.

And you did. 

If you have been to Target and clean your house on the regular, you have most likely seen the Method products they sell there.  They should be easy to spot for they are the only cleaning supplies that steer away from the traditional packaging that we have all come to know and loathe (reminds us of cleaning, am I right?).  Now I'm all for things looking pretty, but design in laundry detergents and all purpose cleaners?  Have we really gone there?  The problem is I'm buying it.  For all I know by looking down the cleaning supply aisle, any one of those might do the job just fine.  I'm not going to buy those though, because I want the one that looks different. 

Now after further examination, Method products are not only good for their pretty exterior (or however pretty a laundry detergent dispenser can be), they actually sell a good product.  Although, I haven't given every cleaning supply a chance, because come on now, cleaning is not my favorite thing to do and I'm not about to try every last brand to see which I like better.  I'm going with the cleaning supply that peaks my interest.  You are different, therefore we are kindred spirits or as much as one could be with their hand soap. 

It's not only cleaning supplies. There is this new egg shaped lip balm that barely fits in my purse, for small purses were not meant to carry such things as eggs.  It looks interesting and some friends said it was good stuff.  I got one.  It is kind of odd, but I like it because who wants those plain old chapsticks.  I'll take the egg and it's all natural.  Bonus!  

I've fallen prey to the new gum packaging.  It's square now?  I'll take one of those.  It didn't taste better or last longer than the regular kind, but the box was square.  So there's that. 

I'll stop there with the examples.  I've embarrassed myself enough.  Is it bad that I like the pretty, unique, or bizarre packaging those design teams and ad reps cleverly come up with?  When I stop and think about it, I get quite upset that these whippersnappers are feeding us unassuming need to be different types with their products.  We are like putty in their grubby money loving hands.  Sometimes I want to just grab all my unique, pretty things and throw them on the ground.  And yell, "I'm not a part of your system. Man!"  And get all Andy Sandberg on them.  Then proceed to go and buy one of each of the most drab looking things on the market just to prove my point. 

But the fact is, I won't do that.  I will still keep buying these things, because they make me happy.  If someone can make me enjoy buying cleaning supplies, they've done something their mom's should be proud of and to that I say, "Well played, my friends, well played." 

Monday, August 1, 2011

Game Night

I love game nights.  Having some good friends over for snacks.  Think sweet potato fries with pulled pork.  Mmm!  Dessert.  Whoopie pies with sprinkles, because sprinkles make everything that much better.  And a good ol' fashioned round of Pictionary Telephone.  All adds up to being one terrific night. 


We were recently taught this game.  Everyone gets a stack of blank paper equal to the amount of people there are playing.  Then you each come up with a phrase.  Everyone passes their stack of papers to the person sitting next to them and that person must now draw that phrase and put the piece of paper behind.  When they are done drawing, they pass the stack of papers again.  Now by just looking at the picture, the next person must try to figure out what the phrase was and it keeps going around like that until it comes back to the original writer of the phrase and see how it all changes.  It's funny how everyones mind works differently.  

Any game that starts off as "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." And then after a minor misread turns into this picture is a good game in my book.  

He thought it said, "Shreks and stones may break my bones..."
From this picture, that original phrase turned into "In an ogre baseball league, the human bats might get hurt."  You can see how it gets twisted!  Such an easy game.  All you need is some paper and pens.  

Next up, a friendly game of Mafia.  Friends, you have been warned.  

Do you have any go to games you like to play on game nights? 


Maybe you could help explain something for me.  I'm the type of girl who usually replies when people invite me to do something.  If I say yes, I usually stick to my plan.  {I say usually, because I try to avoid saying the words always or never, because then you will inevitably watch for the day I contradict myself by doing said thing I said I would never do and you will secretly judge me for it.} Even if something else that might seemingly be a better option comes along, I'm committed to my first plan.  Or if there is a completely legitimate reason why I cannot make it, I will try to let that person I had plans with know so that they are not wondering where I am.  Would they even wonder?  Is this just me?

I'm not talking about dates.  I'm talking about just making plans with friends.  The friends said that they were going to be there.  Then they are not there.  They are probably just running late.  They couldn't decide on what to wear.  Traffic.  Maybe there was a car accident.  Maybe they were in a car accident.

Where are you?

No answer.  Are they dead somewhere?  Laying in a hospital bed with no one to comfort them.  Do they see their phone ringing, but can't move their arms to pick it up and say I'm not coming because I can't move my arms?  What could cause them to not send a simple text message to say I can't make it.  Change of plans.  *enter lame excuse here*  Is it weird that I am at all concerned about them?  I don't lose sleep over it, because it's happened before and it will happen again.  Still if they were in my position, would they not care if I was M.I.A.?

Then to top it all off, you see your friend a week later and they say, "Oh yeah, I saw you're text message.  I was laughing.  You were looking for me, huh?"  I'm glad you thought it was funny.

It's just this flippant disregard that saddens me.  I don't think it's intentional, but I don't think they think. And honestly sometimes I just don't get it.  Maybe I care too much?  I need to get a life so I'm too self absorbed to care about what other people do?

No.  I'm happy the way I am and I'll never try not to change.
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