Sunday, January 29, 2012

Takin' It Easy

Let me preface this by giving you a scenario.

So let's say you've been reading my blog for a while now... you like the concept, you like (some of) my posts... [at least, I hope you do, else you're just coming back to see if I'm still embarrassing myself in front of my readership of 3]...

Anyway, you're reading along one day, and you stumble across a particular story that reminds you of something that happened to you recently... or three years ago... or in a dream that a friend of yours had and told you about.

Now, here's where the scenario gets shaky... what if... [and I know this is a crazy idea]... you sent me a little email at and told me about it?

Because, you see, the funny thing about a blog based on funny stories is... you need funny stories.

And as much as I love telling stories of my own [or making something up], it does get bothersome after a while.

So, next time you read one of my stories [like the one that's about to follow... HA! Gotcha! This isn't just a shameless plug!]... think about one you can send me!

And now, for the story!

It was a dark, stormy night...

[hold up, HOLD UP.... not EVERY story has to have a dark, stoooormy night with lots of eeriness and crap]

Yes it does!

[No, it doesn't]






[HAHAHA! You lose!]


You suck.

Fine, it was a clear, sunny day with rainbows and unicorns and all manner of chirpy woodland creatures. Is that better?

[Much ::smug::]


Anyway, a young man [whom we'll call 'Don'] had been given a rather difficult task at his brand new job. Being a very diligent worker and eager to prove himself in his new place of labor, he applied himself to the mountainous task placed before him.

For hours he labored, focusing all of his efforts and energies on this one task.

Finally, after working uninterrupted in his side office almost all day, he completed his task!

The young man was ecstatic. He leaped from his chair and threw his arms in the air, doing a very Caucasian-style dance --

[please tell me he gets caught doing this... that would be epic]

No. Now, as I was saying...

[Is the job not really finished? I mean, there has got to be something else to this story. Trickster doesn't help people impress their bosses on their first day of work. It just doesn't happen.]

The job is done, he's completed his work. Now if you'll just let me...

[Abducted by aliens??]



Thank you.

Now, the young man became so pleased with his accomplishment that he sat himself down in his chair and took a long, deep breath and drank in the smell of victory.

He became so overcome by his self-satisfaction that he threw his feet up on his desk and placed his hands behind his head.

At that moment, while he was basking in the relaxation of a job well done [and on his own ALL DAY, he might add smugly], he saw the boss stick his head in and say, "Hey, Don! How's it going?"


[Bet that gave a mighty good impression]

Yeah, no kidding.


Monday, January 23, 2012

A Truth Universally Acknowledged Pt. 2

"I hand you a quarter. You get to choose to hang on to it or to risk it. Risk is $5,000 or $0. What will you choose?" 
- On pursuing a relationship

This is a quote from a good friend of mine that I found to be very effective in illustrating the very simple equation presented to us every time we wish to pursue a relationship. It may not seem like it at the time, but the truth is that we have little to lose whenever we decide to get to know a person better.

So why do we fear it so?

As a woman, I'll deal with this from the female perspective [as best I can - again, I'm not speaking for half the planet's population, just delving into some possibilities]...

"It's hard to find that fine line between giving off a 'I'm romantically available for the right person at the right time' and 'Come and take me, baby!!' "
- Pretty self-explanatory

Women are faced with a difficult situation in today's dating world. Whereas before there were straightforward guidelines as to how a relationship commenced (re: boy asks girl out), now there are none.

Sure, the typical "boy asks girl out" still happens, and quite a bit; but for those of us that it doesn't happen to, what then? Are we supposed to throw in the towel and resign ourselves to a lifetime of singlehood [not necessarily a bad thing... if that's what you want]? Is that really our only option?

I certainly hope not. I don't get on well with cats...

So, what should we do about this? Should we place all of the blame/responsibility on the men, and hope they start noticing us; should we say, "To hell with tradition, I want a man and I don't care if I have to slap him to get his attention!"; or should we go with something in the middle?

I'm not entirely sure...

... more on that later.


Friday, January 20, 2012

Mistaken Identity

Today, I was sitting in the parking lot of the grocery store, minding my own business. Texting away on my cellphone, I had a stranger walk up to my window [which was rolled down at the time] and greet me like an old friend.

Due in part to the fact that I am a very outgoing soul [and also in part to the fact that I was completely engrossed in the scintillating conversation on my mobile device], I did not even realize that this should have been odd. I just responded [equally friendly] and settled in for a chat.

After a few moments [during which he asked if I was still dating Otis... whom I have never met], I realized that this was a case of mistaken identity [Oh, look! There's the title of the post!].

This is the point where a nice, sane, normal person would have politely corrected him.

I, on the other hand, decided to have fun with this. I informed him that I was no longer dating Otis and had no plans to do so ever again [his face went from utter shock to mild consternation... a fact which I noted with glee].

After a few minutes of conversation, he had to leave, saying he had to go to work. Incidentally, he turned to go into the very grocery store I was in the parking lot of [where he apparently works... and I sincerely hope Otis does, too...]


Monday, January 9, 2012

A Truth Universally Acknowledged

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife" 
- Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen

We had an interesting discussion in class today [at least, it was today when I started writing this post. It has now been upwards of two months. Ha.].

Prompted by Simmel’s theories on flirtation, it quickly spun into a discussion of our views on modern flirtation. The remark was made that “girls don’t want to date nice guys; they want the bad boy”. 

Cue my head hitting my desk. 

This is a concept I’ve never understood; I’m not arguing the point, mind you, I’ve seen it too many times to dismiss it: the clean-cut boy who brings you flowers and makes your parents smile is rejected in favor of the truant who drives a motorcycle when he bothers to come to class.

Is this exaggerated? Yes, of course it is. Does it prove my point? Yes, it does.

Now, let me just say, not all girls are like this. This is not an epidemic of stupidity that has affected the mind of every female on the planet. There are girls [like myself] who understand that the “bad boys” are just immature adolescents who have some growing up to do, and that's not what we want for ourselves. 

Oddly enough, even though there is an alleged multitude of “nice guys” who are rejected daily [and thereby single], we can't seem to find any who want to date us
What's up with that?

It’s because guys don't want nice girls, either. Again, I’m not saying that it’s every guy everywhere, but it is common enough to be a problem. With the availability of hook ups, a lot of guys aren't motivated to cultivate relationships and take the time necessary to get to know a nice girl.

So we’ve identified a problem. Where do we go from here? Many people would say the logical next step is to try and fix the problem. Dating sites for like-minded people, setting your friends up with people who have similar values, and other such methods of dating are what typically follow. 

These are good solutions… for the individual. However, not everyone has good luck on eHarmony or friends with enough sense to pair them with a good match.

How do we solve this problem as a whole? How do we even begin to tackle such a massive cultural shift? First, we have to identify the cause.

WAIT! Don’t leave! I haven’t reinvented the wheel or solved world hunger just yet. I don’t have the meaning of life, either. I don’t even claim to have solved the entire problem at hand; what I do claim to have done is to have possibly stumbled upon at least one major contributing issue: conflicting expectations.

Now, get ready for another exaggeration. Women get their romantic expectations from romance novels, men get their romantic expectations from porn.

Again, every woman isn’t an air-headed romantic with visions of a white picket fence and June Cleaver lifestyle, and not all men are just in it for sex… but that, to varying degrees, seems to be a recurring pattern in today's society.
To be continued...
[OK, now you can go. Just be sure to check back if you want to hear more brilliant thoughts...]

Sunday, January 1, 2012

A Truly Trickster Tale

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictionalized account of an actual happening. Names have been changed to protect the innocent, and some facts have been added to make the story more dramatic. No animals were harmed in the writing of this blog post.

OK, now that the stupid legal stuff is out of the way, let’s get to the fun part! Remember that girl I told you about, Lucy? Here is her story! Oh, and I graciously grant you the privilege of ignoring the fact that this post is exactly one week late. How magnanimous.

[Anyway, movin' on. My comments will be contained in brackets. Like these! --> ]

Our story begins… with a wedding; [YES!! My favorite subject! ]

Or, rather, before the wedding [Eh… not as exciting; but still cool]...

...more specifically, dress shopping [ -_-  OK, seriously, this had better pick up soon…].

The Scene:
It is a cold, ominous winter night. There is no sun to light the gloomy outside as the wind howls through the bare, bent trees. Our heroine [victim?] is a young woman we’ll call “Lucy”.

Lucy is the maid of honor in the wedding of her best friend. [see? I told you there’d be a wedding]. We’ll call the best friend “Zilla” [Oooh, now things are getting’ good!]

At the time of our story's beginning, everyone was asleep. Everyone, that is, except Lucy. She awoke at 3 AM to the sound of Beethoven’s 5th on her cell phone. Oh no… she thought… it’s Zilla. What now?

Then she remembered.

Dress shopping today!!!! [eeeew! I’m already feeling sorry for Lucy…]

She groaned inwardly at the perky message as she looked distastefully at the phone in her hands. Deciding to dare the wrath later, she switched off her phone and curled back up under her warm covers, determined to sleep until a more reasonable hour. Zilla could just wait. [good for her!!]

Not three seconds later, the house phone began going off. [there is no way…]

About two minutes later, her mother came plodding down the hall. [yes way]

The footsteps stopped. There was a knock at the door.

Lucy got up and opened it, shaking her head and making manic “I’m not here” signs all the while.

[smart girl; maybe Mom will pick up on your subtle hints that you aren’t available to talk to the twit]

“Oh good, honey, you’re awake. It’s for you!”

[Great. Thanks Mom.]

She put the phone to her ear and flinched as a rapid torrent of inane and slightly manic drivel came pouring out before she got a chance to say hello. Something about a fabulous day and a bit about lace [no lace, madam, I beg you!] in there somewhere.

She wasn’t quite sure due to falling asleep with her bubbly BFF chattering in her ear. [did you ever consider pre-recording unintelligible grunts of acquiescence and half-hearted indications of interest? Because honestly, that’s all this girl seems to need…]

Zilla wanted to be picked up at 7:00 that morning, as her appointment with [insert ritzy-and-rather-snobbish-wedding-dresserie’s name here] was at 10:00 AM.

[Wait… she wants to be picked up at 7:00… when her appointment is at 10:00… and her chauffe--- I mean, maid of honor – got a max of 3 hours of sleep? How very thoughtful…]

The day improved from there. Nothing eventful happened in the three hours between picking up Zilla and going to R&RSWD [ritzy-and-rather-snobbish-wedding-dresserie… now get that puzzled look off your face. I just thought the acronym would be easier]

After arriving at R&RSWD and having seen the undersides of eleventy-something upturned noses, Zilla was ushered into the back and Lucy finally relaxed. Now she could just sit whilst her friend tried on dress... after dress... after dress...

Sitting back, the lack of sleep finally hit her, and she went into a vegetative state [if you like to talk to tomatoes, if a squash can make you smile.... NO! Not that kind of vegetable. We are not twelve.]

Little did our long-suffering heroine know was that things were not going as planned in the back of the store. Zilla was getting her sweet on with the R&RSWD staff because she had forgotten to make an appointment.

She was oozing generosity and agreeableness from every pore, hoping to get in today because Oh my WORD, she would simply fall apaht if she couldn't hayave a dress from R&RSWD. They ah the ONLY store in town she would consider bah-ing her dress from! It just would make her weddin' that much less speshul.

[If you didn't hear Scarlet O'Hara in there somewhere, go back and read it again]

After a moment of sweet reprieve for Lucy, Zilla re-entered the front of the store, happy as a clam at her newly acquired appointment.

When Lucy finally startled into a state of consciousness, she looked at the clock and realized it was 10:20.

It is still unclear whether Lucy was too zoned to hear the appointment update from Zilla, or if it was never mentioned; regardless of how it came about, Lucy, knowing of Zilla's dislike of unpunctuality [it is a word NOW], decided to do something about the tardiness of the famed dress designer.

[Uh oh...]

She took a deep breath....

[Hey, uh... Luce?]

...straightened her shoulders...

[What are you planning on doing??]

... marched right up to a nearby employee...


... and politely asked if there was anyone nearby who could help them as their appointment had been at 10:00 AM.

[NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO -- wait. Huh. I guess that's not too bad. Maybe I should try reading these things all the way through before I blog about them]

Zilla, who had heretofore been admiring herself in her compact mirror, snapped her head around and looked at Lucy with a look of utter shock.

"I can't believe you just did that"

[Wait... what? She just asked if there was someone who could help. It's not like she smacked him upside the head with her purse, demanding to see the manager. What's up with this chick??]

Turns out, the nearby employee was not an employee. It was the R&RSWD's head designer, coming to help them at long last.

[O.o... like I said, I'll read ahead next time...]

This is where our story ends. I don't know if the fitting went well, if there was a fitting, or if the R&RSWD designer teamed up with Zilla to throw Lucy out of the store like worn out tulle...

All I know are the facts I've just relayed to you.

Oh.... and Happy New Year.