I don’t know how God feels knowing that he’s being hookered out on late night television by some pseudo-minister promoting ‘miracle water’ but I’m sure it’s not good. Supposedly by drinking this water, it makes you the recipient of several thousands of dollars. I found this out in the wee hours of the morning while I experienced a glimpse into the life of an insomniac.
I pride myself in my sleep habits. I am capable of sleeping anywhere, anytime. My mom says when I was younger, if we were in the car and she said, ‘Take a nap,” I would immediately close my eyes and be out. I'm sure I was just waiting for her to say the magic words to give me permission to doze off. I accidentally cuddle with strangers on airplanes before take off (hey, those seats are small). I have slept a 10-hour night only to take a 3-hour nap later that afternoon. I love to sleep. So, imagine my disgust when last night I woke up at 3:30 in the morning wide awake, lying in bed repeating to myself, why are you awake, why are you awake. Thinking that bad television would cause my mind to drift into peaceful sleep once more, I switched it on only to find minister man, miracle water and prayer promises that are supposed to guarantee you money. It got me thinking, what if I called this man and he swore that I would be receiving money on Thanksgiving and then I didn’t. Could I sue for false advertising?
As if he wasn’t bad enough, I turned to the ever boring, ever unnecessary channel that is the Home Shopping Network.I didn’t think this really existed. I mean the things they sell, the clothes they wear. It looked more like a Saturday Night Live spoof, than a real promotion of crap. First item up, Casio Light-Up Keyboard. Oh. My. God. First of all, homeboy selling the item was wearing a pink polo under a bright blue v-neck sweater merrily following the keyboard lights convincing himself and other morons that he was learning to play ‘You’ve Got A Friend’. For three payments of sixty-nine dollars or something, you too could look like a complete tool. Up next for sale in twenty-nine minutes and forty-two seconds, a roaster/chafing machine. Next.
NEXT is exactly what I switched to. I thought surely MTV would be showing an old episode of Cribs or some other less popular show that would provide a little, mindless entertainment but no. Instead they were showing the dating show that has the worst actors who are also the worst looking people all crammed together on a bus trying to last the longest on a date that they don’t really want to be on anyway. Fuck insomnia.
But at last I found my solace as I switched to Fox. Fox, I believe, is the sleaziest of the news stations. I don’t know why I think this, maybe because of the newscasters or the Fox News Problem Solvers but I have a hard time believing what I see on Fox. Therefore, Fox is my favorite. Lucky for me they were showing COPS and it was the Wichita PD being followed. Ugly woman officer pulls over a car with two men for suspicion of drunk driving. When pulled over and asked for registration, she spots a gun in the glove box. She barks at them to get out of the car, hands where she can see them, calling for back up followed by passenger and driver both claiming that the gun is not theirs. Good thing for faceless girl, who as a backseat passenger tattles on the front passenger pulling the gun from his pocket and putting it in the glove compartment. Nothing like COPS breaking it down for us Midwest style to help a girl get some sleep.
I think they should have a channel that has a spinning bullseye and a voice repeating, you are getting very sleepy. Once in awhile I have these insomniac spurts and it makes me sympathize with those who have real sleeping problems or work late shifts and have to watch the crap that is televised between the hours of 2 and 5 a.m.; because honestly many more nights of that and I will seriously have to invest in some porn.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Your Not Enough is My Too Much
What is it that I said before? The challenge is accepting the trade off, the fact that in order to see what you think might be worth it in the end, you have to endure the drama that is now. I must've thought this during an optimistic blackout. Do you know that you have to like a person at the very same time they like you and even if they like you and you like them, each other has to be on the top of the other's list? I could like Boy who likes Girl Not Me while Other Random Boy likes me, like a menage a trois that no one is directly involved in. Someone can like you at the same time you like them, it just might not be enough. Or it may be enough but one or the other is not one hundred percent sure and god forbid we try something we're only ninety-nine percent sure about that has a fifty percent chance of failure anyway. I didn't make the rules. That's just how it goes. Luckily, the optimistic self has meshed well with the cynical self and has created reserve lists.
A reserve list is a list of people that we like, who like us, who are cute, nice, say witty things but for some reason can't bump that seemingly unattainable, impossibly unpredictable number one that drives us crazy yet makes us happy off the list. The reserve list can include but is not limited to: friends with benefits, exes, random, semi-anonymous people we meet at bars or other inappropriate places. The trouble with the reserves is that rarely do they move up in ranking; therefore, defeating the purpose of the list in the first place. Does this all seem exhausting?
Now you know how I feel.
We use the list to make sure we're not missing out on anything while certain males out there turtle around, wanting us to wait for them to make their move. We can be ahead of the race, found others who can keep pace and then the turtle finally reaches the finish line and is upset that we didn't wait for them to come around. Can I get a 'what the fuck'? Guys don't want you to be desperate. They don't want you to be too much work. They want you to make the first move. They want to chase. They say they like you. They never call. Consistent only in their inconsistency. And the thing is, we put up with it. Of course it's because we base who we want on things other than consistency, reliability, and comfort. We know it's safer to drive the mini-van but we want the Porsche.
So what's the answer?
We try all methods and see that none of them work. We play the game and decide we're not going to follow the rules. We ride out the drama and hope that it really is worth it in the end. The answer is we will only do, can only do what seems like the best idea at the time. Anything else it seems is too much to ask for.
A reserve list is a list of people that we like, who like us, who are cute, nice, say witty things but for some reason can't bump that seemingly unattainable, impossibly unpredictable number one that drives us crazy yet makes us happy off the list. The reserve list can include but is not limited to: friends with benefits, exes, random, semi-anonymous people we meet at bars or other inappropriate places. The trouble with the reserves is that rarely do they move up in ranking; therefore, defeating the purpose of the list in the first place. Does this all seem exhausting?
Now you know how I feel.
We use the list to make sure we're not missing out on anything while certain males out there turtle around, wanting us to wait for them to make their move. We can be ahead of the race, found others who can keep pace and then the turtle finally reaches the finish line and is upset that we didn't wait for them to come around. Can I get a 'what the fuck'? Guys don't want you to be desperate. They don't want you to be too much work. They want you to make the first move. They want to chase. They say they like you. They never call. Consistent only in their inconsistency. And the thing is, we put up with it. Of course it's because we base who we want on things other than consistency, reliability, and comfort. We know it's safer to drive the mini-van but we want the Porsche.
So what's the answer?
We try all methods and see that none of them work. We play the game and decide we're not going to follow the rules. We ride out the drama and hope that it really is worth it in the end. The answer is we will only do, can only do what seems like the best idea at the time. Anything else it seems is too much to ask for.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Shake Your Money Maker
If I could list all of the brilliant plans that my friends and I have come up with in the past year, it would astound you. Creating a team of drunks. Beer-bonging while floating down a river in a canoe. Baking cupcakes for deejays. Genius, I tell you. But none have been as profitable as our latest idea. We have created the adult equivalent of having a lemonade stand.
It all started one night in an unknown bar for a birthday celebration of a hardly known person when I found myself in need of a soft pretzel with cheese. I was sitting at a table full of strangers, trying to make new friends when my eye caught sight of the deal of the day. For only $2.75 I could get one and I thought if i could get eleven people to each donate a quarter to my need, then I would be in soft pretzel heaven. Even though I nearly failed economics in college this example of supply and demand was not a hard one to figure out, even after a couple of drinks. Unfortunately, one of my friends was the only donor and I thought maybe it was because we were at the bar and no one had spare change, just credit cards. However, after further investigation I found this not to be true at all. The collecting of quarters is actually a formerly undiscovered hobby that my friends and I have breathed life into.
People don't part with cash very well but loose change, no problem. It's amazing how many people are willing to give up a quarter to a complete stranger without asking any questions. It's also amazing with what ease comes our flippant answer when asked what we're going to use the quarter for. The answer that answers all questions.
Don't worry about it.
We took our coin collecting one step further when manning the door of our bar. By manning the door I mean we posed as the doormen. We dressed up in handmade t-shirts with the doormen names on the back in iron-on letters and checked ID's, asked for quarters. We didn't charge a quarter, we just asked. Ask and you shall receive. The amount of quarters collected so far could rival and probably far exceed any 10-year old lemonade stand's profit. And it can definitely buy enough soft pretzels to satisfy my cravings.
I know you must think, haven't people caught on to your devious plan? Maybe they have but they're not saying anything. I think the question catches them off guard. They say 'yes' and start digging in their pockets, hoping they have a quarter to give our eager beavering souls. And then after we smile sweetly and thank them, they think, what the hell just happened? I know you must also think why would a bunch of 20-something year-old girls panhandle people for twenty-five cents. Don't be jealous. You know you wish you would've thought of it first. Who knows what we'll come up with next.
Stay tuned.
It all started one night in an unknown bar for a birthday celebration of a hardly known person when I found myself in need of a soft pretzel with cheese. I was sitting at a table full of strangers, trying to make new friends when my eye caught sight of the deal of the day. For only $2.75 I could get one and I thought if i could get eleven people to each donate a quarter to my need, then I would be in soft pretzel heaven. Even though I nearly failed economics in college this example of supply and demand was not a hard one to figure out, even after a couple of drinks. Unfortunately, one of my friends was the only donor and I thought maybe it was because we were at the bar and no one had spare change, just credit cards. However, after further investigation I found this not to be true at all. The collecting of quarters is actually a formerly undiscovered hobby that my friends and I have breathed life into.
People don't part with cash very well but loose change, no problem. It's amazing how many people are willing to give up a quarter to a complete stranger without asking any questions. It's also amazing with what ease comes our flippant answer when asked what we're going to use the quarter for. The answer that answers all questions.
Don't worry about it.
We took our coin collecting one step further when manning the door of our bar. By manning the door I mean we posed as the doormen. We dressed up in handmade t-shirts with the doormen names on the back in iron-on letters and checked ID's, asked for quarters. We didn't charge a quarter, we just asked. Ask and you shall receive. The amount of quarters collected so far could rival and probably far exceed any 10-year old lemonade stand's profit. And it can definitely buy enough soft pretzels to satisfy my cravings.
I know you must think, haven't people caught on to your devious plan? Maybe they have but they're not saying anything. I think the question catches them off guard. They say 'yes' and start digging in their pockets, hoping they have a quarter to give our eager beavering souls. And then after we smile sweetly and thank them, they think, what the hell just happened? I know you must also think why would a bunch of 20-something year-old girls panhandle people for twenty-five cents. Don't be jealous. You know you wish you would've thought of it first. Who knows what we'll come up with next.
Stay tuned.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)