I Fixed It!

I'm not very good at doing things. This isn't me wallowing in self pity - I'm simply acknowledging that I usually quit before I start. And if that's not the case, my attempts at productivity routinely become what might be described as "hijinks." I think that's what makes me so charming.

And thus I was more than a little disappointed in myself when I decided to tackle a small car repair and it ended in success. The task seemed pretty simple: replacing a burnt-out turn signal bulb. But confidence was low when it came to actually completing said task. I went so far as to purchase the replacement bulb at Auto Zone at least 3 weeks ago. But I felt that once I actually owned the bulb, the rest would just follow. Like, perhaps bluebirds would flutter out to my car, figure out how to access my front headlights, and I would wake one morning to a functioning turn signal. While they braided my hair. And chirped a merry tune.

Alas, the only bird I have seen as of late is the dead crow outside on the sidewalk. I would like to think he was on his way to my living room to pick up my turn signal bulb, but then I might feel partially responsible for his death, and I just don't think I can handle that right now.

So "replace turn signal bulb" has been on my to-do list for the last several weeks. Before that it was ""consider buying turn signal bulb." I know what you're thinking: "You have a to-do list? Can't you remember to watch Oprah on your own?" Well, yes, I can. But sometimes I have to remember not to watch Oprah because Chris Rock is on and that looks stupid.

Anyways, I was determined to make something of this day, so I looked up directions on replacing a turn signal bulb, and headed out to my car solo. Without even a posse of songbirds to back me up.

The elementary school on our street was letting out right then, so the sidwalks were bustling. I thought that this was sure sign that I would have a hilarious/embarassing episode. But against all the odds, I managed to replace the bulb pretty quickly and without incident.

I was feeling pretty good. Too good. So I decided to do a little investigating into myself. Exactly how long ago did this bulb burn out anyways? I know that I emailed my dad when I first noticed it, so I did a little search in my gmail records.

May 14th. Wow. I mean, it was May 14th 2009, but still. 4 1/2 months. What have I been doing for 4 1/2 months? I have no idea. Oprah was on summer hiatus for a majority of that time, so I don't have a clue. Anyways, that's what I get for feeling good about myself. Way to go me. I deserved to be knocked down a peg or two.

Flashback Friday: Mistakes I've Made

We all have regrets, things we wish we could do over, if only we could just turn back time. I know Cher, for one, agrees with me on that. I know I can think of at least a few things I wish I could take back.

I remember one night, the whole family was driving in the ol' station wagon. It was dark and we were cruising down I-271. As I gazed out the window, I saw the bright lights of an Embassy Suites hotel. I was young, and I felt compelled to read a lot of signs aloud for no reason. I said, to no one in particular, "embassy suites." Only I pronounced it like "suits." I was corrected. "No, no. It sounds like sweets." What a fool, I was! Of course if there's an 'e' at the end of the word, the 'u' becomes a 'w' and the 'i' turns into a long e! Idiot! But at least I learned a valuable lesson that night. Well, I guess it wasn't that valuable. But every time I see an Embassy Suites, I feel a distinct pang of embarassment. Why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut? If only.

A couple years later, I was still suffering from the annoying disease that causes a person to read things out loud for no apparent reason. My brothers were participating in Science Olympiad, a competition which, as I understand it, only lets really cool kids in. I was sitting on the couch, reading the list of events and their descriptions, when I came to the word "organisms." Ignoring a few letters, I said "orgasms." There was a collective giggle from the room. I can only assume that this is why I hate science.

In 4th grade, I made my greatest mistake of all. It was the class spelling bee and it was down to the final few contestants. I was feeling pretty cocky, spelling-wise. And then I got the word "Florida." Simple, right? I thought so. Yes, I remembered the capital F. But for some reason, I thought that Florida had another trick to it. In retrospect, I'm pretty sure I was confusing it with California. I think I got confused because I associated them both with touristy t-shirts bearing smiling neon-colored suns. So I spelled it "F-l-o-r-i-d-i-a." I still really hate myself for this one.

I try not to live in the past, dwelling on mispronounced words and lost spelling bees. Every day is a struggle. But until time travel is perfected, I just have to take comfort in the fact that I won the 5th grade spelling bee. Booya!

Checkout Chat

You never know what might happen at the grocery store. Actually, that's not true. You almost always know what will happen when you go to the grocery store. Or at least I do. I know that when I go to Trader Joe's I will be disappointed by the food sample, they will be out of something that I want to buy, and that I will forget why I went there in the first place.

Well, today was different. For one, they were sampling instant chocolate pudding. It was excellent. Also, I was shopping with a list this time, and I'm pretty sure I that I found everything on it. Crazy, I know. All in all, it was shaping up to be a pretty good outing.

But even more unexpected than the delicious pudding or my fine organizational skills was the conversation I ended up in while I was at the checkout. I'm usually prepared for the normal amount of checkout line chit-chat. "How are you?" "Did you find everything okay?" These are questions I am prepared for. But every so often, someone throws me a curveball.

I'm going to get a little personal here. I was buying alfalfa sprouts. I don't normally buy alfalfa sprouts, but I was planning on making a sandwich for lunch. And the overly friendly cashier guy was not going to let this slide.

"So what do you do with these?!" he asked.
"Oh, um. I like to put them on sandwiches actually. Kind of like lettuce."
"Oh wow, that's awesome! Yeah, that makes sense. I could see that. I bet they're less messy."

I agreed, but was actually wondering what kind of problems this man has that he considers lettuce to be a messy food. Making a sandwich must be quite a terrible ordeal for him. I don't even want to think about what a salad must be like.

"So they must be really good for you, huh?"

I was beginning to suspect that I was on some sort of hidden camera show. I was glad I put a bra on today.

"Yeah, I guess so. They're probably not bad for you," I told him.

At this point, another employee decided to join in. A girl came over to bag my fascinating groceries, and picked up the container of sprouts and began inspecting the nutritional information. I was starting to get a little nervous.

And then he picked up the bag of carrots.

"Oh man, these are the old-fashioned kind of carrots! You know, I call them Bugs Bunny carrots," he said.

"Oh....yes."

I myself just call them 'carrots' but that's fine. To each his own.

"Yeah, you gotta wash these, peel 'em and everything," he commented.

The bagging girl pointed out that these carrots are a very popular item. They sell a lot of carrots, apparently. I felt good about this. They must be some fine carrots.

They talked a bit more about carrots as he continued to ring up my groceries. You know, baby versus regular, that kind of stuff. To my knowledge, there was no hidden camera. Not one. This guy was just really interested in my sprouts and carrots. I thought they were kind of boring, but I don't know, maybe I'm just jaded.

I just hope he didn't buy any sprouts before he went home. Now that I've had some time to think about it, I don't know that he's ready to move on from lettuce just yet. Sprouts can be a little tricky.

Me and Carnie

Well, today was our taping of The Newlywed Game, hosted by Carnie Wilson. Seeing as I woke up at 6:17 am and spent all of last night having newlywed-related dreams/nightmares, I'm not really ready to relive the experience yet. So instead, I will recount all the details unrelated to the actual game show.

It was really cold. So cold that I wanted some vodka.
There were bagels and muffins and donuts. Oh my! But seriously, where's the vodka?
We learned that on GSN, you are not allowed to say "clitoris" but you are allowed to say "rhymes with Dolores." You are allowed to say "a visit from Colonel Lingus" but you may not say "cunnlingus." Also, curiously, you are not allowed to say "Jesus Christ" unless you are talking about the man himself. I wonder if you are allowed to exclaim "rhymes with Beezus Feist!"
Lunch was provided by Subway. I normally like Subway, but a vegetarian sub can go very wrong. And that's how you end up with 3 inches of bread, lettuce, onion, and one triangle of cheese.
On the plus side, there was champagne.
On the minus side, they would only give me one tiny glass. Plus the tiny glass I stole from Pat. I am confident that had they given me a whole bottle, the show would have been much better.
They put so much lip gloss on me. I felt like Jessica Simpson when she wears too much lip gloss.

Anyways, that's all I can remember. It was exhausting. Then we came home and listened to Wilson Phillips' hit song, "Hold On."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2L9IKVe9LA

Redbox Roundup Labor Day

As some of you may know, Monday was Labor Day. Labor Day, from what I gather, is a holiday for people that work. It is also often confused with Memorial Day. I do not work, but I am a rebel, therefore I went ahead and celebrated your working man holiday along with all the poor working stiffs. And what better way to cap off a holiday weekend than with a terrible Redbox rental?

17 Again was calling and I answered.

If your powers of deductive reasoning are not so good, and you're not familiar with the commercials for this "fantasy comedy film" starring Zac Efron, the basic plot is that a 30-something guy, played by Matthew Perry, becomes...17 AGAIN! Wow! But how??!

Well, it's not entirely clear how. It has something to do with hating his life, returning to his old high school, a creepy janitor, and some sort of magical cyclone/vortex/wormhole that returns him to his 17-year-old body. It's sort of a Freaky Friday meets It's a Wonderful Life meets that movie where Drew Barrymore goes back to high school and for some reason no one thinks she has Down Syndrome.

The worst part about 17 Again was that it wasn't nearly as bad as I had hoped and expected. It was downright watchable. I mean, sure, the plot is a little far-fetched, but it's a fantasy comedy. What do you expect?

Well, for one, I did not expect Zac Efron's character to be a big shot basketball player. But he is. Now, I've never seen High School Musical, but apparently, Zac Efron plays Troy, captain of the basketball team. Now I can't help wonder, what is it about Zac Efron that makes people look at him and automatically say, "basketball." I don't see it. But in the spirit of full disclosure, I don't think I've ever watched a game of basketball. If fact, there were two basketball game scenes in this movie and I made sure to avert my eyes until they were over.

In general, I think the movie taught us some valuable life lessons. First, don't get your girlfriend pregnant in high school. And if you do, don't marry her because it will ruin your life. But I think the most important thing I learned from this movie is that time will be very cruel to Zac Efron, assuming that he will grow up to look just like Matthew Perry in all his baggy-eyed glory. So Zac, listen to me. Enjoy your taut skin while it lasts.

Park it

It's been a pretty uneventful week. And that, I assume, is why the fates have bestowed upon me the gift of a good altercation.

It's been really hot this week. Like bursting into flames hot. My car has no air-conditioning. It barely has four functioning windows. Anyways, I found that when it's parked in front of the elementary school on our street, the shade from the building allows my car to stay at a temperature that might be able to sustain human life. I find that to be preferable.

I had to leave my magical parking spot when I went to the air-conditioned gym. I've been working out a lot for that reason. Eventually I hope someone to say, "Hey you're in good shape. What do you do?" "I don't have air-conditioning," I'll say. "Not even in my car. Sometimes the windows don't work." Unfortunately this will never happen because I eat cheese for breakfast.

Anyways, I returned from the gym today, and much to my dismay, my shady parking spot was occupied. We live on a non-major street in a somewhat undesirable area, so parking is never much of a problem. In fact, the parking is plentiful enough that I am never even forced to attempt actual parallel parking. This is good, because I don't think I've ever successfully parallel parked anything. Even at my driver's test. I hit a cone and it wobbled, but did not fall down. So I passed. That's a lesson for you, kids.

There weren't any three-car-length spots on the west side of the street, so at the stop sign, I decided to make a U-turn and park on the other side. About a hundred yards ahead of me , there was a green van. The van was turning onto a side street, or possibly turning around too. I couldn't really tell.

So I turned around and pulled head-first into a very large spot. As I went to back up and straighten out, I saw that the green van was now wedged diagonally into the back of the spot in which I was attempting to park. I had no idea what they were doing, and I couldn't really back up while they were there. I thought they perhaps were trying to do some sort of synchronized parking with me, and I'm just not into that.

I couldn't really do much, so I just sat there, waiting for the van to move. Then the guy pulls up alongside me and this is the exchange:

Him: "That's fine. There's room for both of us. That's fine."
Me: "What?"
Him: "It's just, I was ahead of you, and I was going to park there, and then you went and cut in front of me is all."
Me: "Wait, what?"
Him: "I was turning around so that I could park there, but it's fine."

He obviously does not think it's fine.

Me: "Hold on. How was I possibly to know that you were turning around to park in this exact spot?"
Him: "No, I see. I just don't know if I'm going to be able to fit in there too."
Me: "Ok, what do you want? Do you want me to move?"
Him: "Oh no, it's ok. I was going to park there, but I'll just park somewhere else. It's just, I live right there."
Me: "Yes, I also live right there. And there are many other parking spots on the street."
Him: "Yes there are. "

A car finally honked at him because he was blocking traffic to have this conversation with me. But I decided that this man was not a man to be trusted with the knowledge of where my car is parked. Despite his many assurances that it was fine, I couldn't help but think that if it really was fine, he wouldn't have approached me, and insinuated that I "stole" a spot that he was nowhere near. So as soon as he turned the corner onto a side street, I vacated the spot in question.

I parked a good four blocks away from my home, despite the ample parking on my street, but I feel it was a success. Because by the time I had walked from my new secret spot, back to my home, passing that disputed territory, the spot was empty. That's right, crazy guy. This is how it's going to be. NO ONE gets the spot. My shady spot was also empty by then. But I wasn't in the mood to tempt fate.