Did You Send Cards Yet?

I like helicopters too!

I love getting Christmas cards. I especially love the photos of my friend’s kids. When I was a young, my mother used to complain about the photo cards. She thought they were goofy. Or maybe it was because they were from people she didn’t give a rip about. I don’t know.

Psh, I say to that. Bring ’em on. They are my favorite part of Christmas. I’m so glad I have friends who love me enough to keep me on their lists even though I don’t send cards. Sometime I try to. I’m just not sure if I’ve ever actually managed the task.

This year I sent the card in the picture to someone in the military overseas. I know, I’m so thoughtful, right? No. Not really. My pal Ryan sent me a link to a program Xerox has. (Thanks, Ryan.) 

If you go to this site, http://www.letssaythanks.com/, you can pick out a card and Xerox will print it and send it to a service person in Iraq. They even have message choices to pick from. And they don’t all suck. Now, how can I get Xerox to send cards to my friends? 

Searching for the Perfect Gift

I got you the best gift!

I’m always keeping my eye out for the worst product I can find. It’s something I’ve liked to do ever since I forsook my Advertising education. I like to find terrible crap and say to myself, “I might have had to sell that had I not renounced my degree.” Well, that’s sort-of formal for interior monologue. Plus, it’s probably more likely that I’d say, “I could have sold that crap like nobody’s business.”

But honestly, who wants a truck cab alarm clock? Are there that may truckers who love the profession so much that they want to be reminded of it when they’re not on the road? 

I know a trucker. It cracks me up to think of him as a trucker. He’s had lots of job titles but I like to put hair stylist and trucker next to each other. It’s funny, right? Ok, so right now he’s driving the big rigs. Naturally, I had to check out his cab. I’d been in a truck before when I was forced to abandon my car and hitch a ride to civilization before the storm stranded me on a mountain. I wonder what ever happened to that car?

The insides of both of the cabs I’ve seen have molded plastic inserts for shelves and a mattress on the molded piece in the back. There is tons of space. They’re roomier than my first college dorm. My friend can stow his guitar in the storage spot above the windshield. The other trucker had a TV and VCR and lots of really lame action movies in his cubbies. So, I suppose there’s space for an alarm clock. But my friend has tons of high-tech gadgets in his truck. He even has Sirius radio (which I covet). So, I don’t see him needing a clunky alarm clock. It’s a tough sell. I’ll give it some thought because come Christmas I’ve got to sell the imaginary crap out of these things.

Blackberry Makers Suing Publicist for Libel

What did you say about me? Not adiquite!

Here’s the belated update on Lindsay. [Aside to real Lindsay followers: This is not about how she hasn't had a drink for a week but has been in AA for a year. I'll get to that next month.] 

Lindsay Lohan’s been writing things on her Blackberry and everyone is making fun of her for being stoopit. Her publicist is blaming the Blackberry.

First she wrote condolences to Robert Altman’s family. It contained the phrase “be adiquite.” Whatever. Adequate isn’t the easiest word to spell. Also, she seems to be misusing the word. So, maybe it’s some sort of personal slang. I misuse the word bunk. (Aside to Julie P: Thanks.) 

Maybe it was a slip of the texting thumb. I don’t care. [Aside to Lindsay: I’m sorry you lost your friend. You might want to send a handwritten note to the family.]

The next Blackberry message Lindsay caught flack for was filled with odd statements, incoherencies, and spelling errors. It’s a rant about the libelous media and a slanderous LR, who turns out to be her former assistant Lindsay Ratowsky. [Aside to Lindsay: If you’re going to criticize the media, be above reproach. Writers are mean and cynical bullies.] [Aside to self: Not you, sweetheart. You're swell.]

Lindsay is quite frankly enraged by the media attention. Well, not the good stuff. But the stuff that’s untrue. And by untrue, I mean unverified by Lindsay. Don’t call her a drug user until after she comes out and says she was a drug user. [Aside to Lindsay’s lawyers: This is just a hypothetical example and in no way implies that Lindsay has ever looked like she does massive amounts of drugs.]

The rambling note says that she wants to rally the troops, including Al Gore, who said he’d help her, and fight evil.

She wrote:

“If he [Gore] is willing to help me, let’s find out. Hilary [sic] Clinton, Bill Clinton, and Evan Metroplis [sic], and John Daur who works with them would be willing, if we just ask. If we just ASK.”

Now, when I first read this, I thought she meant that she was going to get them to help her fight something like starvation. [Aside to celebrities: I know you feel close to this cause, because you think you know what’s it’s like to starve, but you can eat. Really, you can.]

When I dug in, I realized she was talking about fighting the lying media dogs. Trust me, to get the point you really have to have good translation skills. I happen to have excellent translation skills, which is why I think I should fight illiteracy. [Aside to my sisters: Watch for my post titled “Other Pepoele (sic) Read too.”]

You know what though? I would be annoyed if people made stories up about me. And if I didn’t have a cool dad I could turn to, I’d pick Al Gore. If he can inspires people to take our environmental problems seriously, he can do anything. I couldn’t respect that more. [Aside to Gore: I heart you.]

I hate it when people misunderstand me. But, I’m not going to ask Al Gore or Bill Clinton to help. Well, maybe I should. Al, if you’re reading this, sometimes people think I’m … no, forget that. Al, if you’re reading this, how can I help. I’m a popular celebrity that everyone cares about and pays attention to. What should I do with this power? [Aside to Bill Clinton: Will you blurb my book? You’ll like it. It’s about a chunky woman who makes bad relationship choices.]

Al Gore waters trees

This is Tree of Life by Suzanne Etienne. [Aside to self: You're the monkey.] 

Running with Virtual Scissors

Wilson “Snowflake” Bentley flakesWhen I was an undergrad, I spent the weeks before finals making elaborate snowflakes out of the paper I should have been using for the papers I wasn’t writing. I forgot how addicted I was…until now (thanks, Jen).

Go ahead, waste you time making virtual snowflakes. And if you want to search my flakes, I’m Julie from Peeyay. I’m stopping now. No more. But send me yours.

Just Call Me Rusty

Rah. Back off because I am Iron Man!

Iron Man
100%
Supergirl
95%
Catwoman
80%
Wonder Woman
75%
Green Lantern
75%
Spider-Man
70%
Hulk
70%
Superman
55%
Batman
55%
The Flash
50%
Robin
40%
Inventor. Businessman. Genius.


Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test

A Toast To You, Cookie

 No blood in there

I’ve mentioned that my 3-year-old niece is pretty funny - a comedic genius actually. Turns out she’s clever in other ways. Tonight she brought my sister a special treat in a cup.

“You are going to love this,” she said dramatically. She handed her the cup. ”This is a new drink. It’s made out of cookies.” Yep, she knows my sister. Cookies, chocolate, candy – those are things you can make drinks out of when you’re a sugar freak. 

My niece then reassured my sister by telling her what she excluded from the recipe. ”It is not made out of fat or blood.” Mmm. Yumm-mee.

You’ve got to love that sort of drink. They should use that description for all fatless-menu items. “No fat or blood added.” Appetizing.

Once Bitten, Try, Try Again

Snake Goddesses BiteI often lose things because I’ve placed them an inch from where I usually place them. I then cry for help, which leads to the inevitable comment, ”if it were a snake it would’a bit ya.”

Honestly, I can’t hear that comment enough. It always means someone has found the missing treasure. Well, it means someone in my family has found it because no one else says that. 

I kind of like thinking about being bitten by a snake. They strike so quickly, it probably wouldn’t hurt initially. I imagine it being like those stories people tell about getting stabbed or shot. It’s just a little heat. Then cold. Oh, so cold.

I know it would hurt eventually. I’ve seen pictures of the aftermath. I won’t post them. They’re too gross for my sensibilities. I’m a delicate flower, dammit. I know you’d probably like them. But I live here at this blog, so no deformed snake bite hands.

If bitten, I’d have to suck out the poison. I’d probably muck this up. I always think I can do the survival things I read about. I’m as confident about these abilities as I am about my sense of direction. I have faith even while I drive around a hood that is clearly not my destination but looks vaguely familiar. It usually is familiar, but only because I’ve gotten lost there before.

I tried to pick my kryptonite u-bolt bike lock with a pen cap. I spent hours doing this. I watched a YouTube on it. I roped my sister and her friend into helping. I used every pen in the house.

Here’s the logic that leads to my frustration … someone else did it. So, I’m convinced that I can do it. Now I’m contemplating freon and a ball-peen hammer. I don’t know where to get freon, nor do I have a ball-peen hammer, but I’m sure someone has done this before, so it’ll work.

Maybe I’ll cry for help. Someone will help me and then make a comment like, “easy as pie.” And I’ll be so happy to have my bikes unlocked in time for winter that I’ll go have some pie. I’ll even buy a slice for my friends who helped if I happen to have cash, and face it, what are the chances of that?

I’ve tried to pick other locks before, mostly after I read The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook. I almost broke a bobby pin off in my sister’s back door knob. I worked that thing for so long, the dog got sick of barking at me.  As I was resting, exhausted from the frustration, I noticed the spare key, just sitting out, right in front of my face. If it were a snake…you know, hot, cold…so cold. tail swallower 

The snake goddess above is from the Goddess Cafe. The bike lock YouTube is not so exciting, but here it is in case you’re curious. Or maybe you think you can do it. If so, come on over. I’ll bake a pie.

 

Unwarranted Reasons I’ve Hated People

Cruella de Pills

I haven’t talked about this for a while. I’ve been feeling pretty generous lately, what with my birthday and all. But I’ll bet I can come up with something. Let’s see. Hate. Hate. Hate.

Ok, I’ve got one. My friend has a mom that I hate. She enrages me, this mother. She’s an ill-mannered pill popper who makes me shiver whenever I think of her. If I could pick a fight with anyone, it would be with this nut job and I would kick her ass. I can get crazy.

Here’s a slightly fictionalized version of a story about this mommy dearest.

When my friend was a little kid, he thought his grandfather walked on water. They were pals. Great pals as only grandpas and grandsons can me.

One night when my friend was 10 or so his grandfather called, as he often did, and they chatted. They were friends like that. Grandpa mentioned in passing that he didn’t feel so well. That night grandpa died.

During the fallout, my sad little buddy told his mother about his phone conversation with Grandpa. After the funeral, in the car on the way to some depressing death-event, the mother said to her grieving son, “Don’t you wish you would have told me Grandpa said he wasn’t feeling well?”

I know, I know. It’s horrible. Especially if you know any 10-year-olds. But here’s why the hate is unwarranted. And I’m really stretching it. But had this bitch not been as crappy as she was, I wouldn’t have my great friend exactly as he is right now. And he’s great!

The illustration is by Pili Alvarez. Check her out.

I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty

When I feel sexy, I feel like a Shane Glines drawing. He has a book out and if you buy it now you can still get a first edition. Good stuff. Thanks, Shane.

shane-glines-6.jpg

shane-glines-5.jpg

shane-glines-2.jpg

shane-glines-3.jpg

E. coli No Mo

As you may have guessed from my entries about the Sonic Blade Electric Knife and Memory Foam, I watch infomercials. I blame insomnia. My latest find is the AeroGarden. Watch this 28 day demo of aeroponics. Go ahead. You know you love time laspe photography.

Here’s why I like this product:

  • Our spinach got contaminated. People died! This is upsetting. We’ve managed to muck up fresh veggies. Unacceptable, I say.
  • I like the idea of a garden, but hate dirt under my nails. It makes my skin crawl. Hence, I hate weeding. I’m not a fan of the gardening gloves either. Even if I liked it, I live in the Northeast US where the growing season is limited.
  • Aeroponics are cool! I want to have my own science project in the house to inspire my sister’s kids to become scientists.
  • Full spectrum light is healthy especially if you get SAD.
  • You could grow lettuce in a closet, the basement stairwell, a cupboard…

I know it’s asinine to:

  • buy a contraption for 150 bucks to grow something you can buy for cheaper
  • grow something inside in a machine that you can grow outside in the dirt for next to nothing

But I think I’ve established that I’m not going to plant a garden. And I am a little paranoid about supermarket vegetables. It would be nice to grow my own clean, chemical-free lettuce all winter. Oh, what a nirvana it would be – a little corner of light that would make me happy, inspire the kids, and feed everyone a healthful bounty. 

So, what’s the catch? Apparently the downfall is that the AeroGarden pumps are not foolproof. Some of the consumer reviews mention that they break and need to be replaced. Bah. I can fix stuff. I’m handy like nobody’s business. I fixed an industrial pretzel dough stringer once.

The other minus is that you can’t grow lettuce and tomatoes in the same “garden.” I don’t really care. I just want the lettuce. Maybe some herbs.  All e. coli free because I’m not going down like Popeye.

Strong to the finish

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