Wednesday, June 30, 2010

mario what?

Disclaimer time: I know down to my soul's deepest core that one major tenet in life is that nobody should begin a sentence with: "So I had the craaaaaaziest dream last night..." Because guess what, no one, including and maybe especially, your mom cares at all and guess who's the sole lonely human interested in analyzing your dreams? That's right, you.

So please forgive me in advance for asking if anyone else has had the dream where you are given the brand new version of Mario Kart. But wait, you've never played Mario Kart in real life, in fact you haven't played a video game since Santa brought you the original Super Mario Bros. when you were like five. And here you are playing this ultra shiny new Mario Kart game that you knew nothing about until rightthissecond yet you find yourself overcome with disappointment because you expected so much more?


Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Hey! It's OK

So a few weeks ago we went to one of my favoritest most kindredest friend ever Laura's wedding in Westport, Ontario, Canada but first we had to fly from San Diego to Rochester, NY (fun fact: Rochester = close to Westport, Ontario, Canada) and by that I mean we flew the most miles any human has ever flown in the history of ever while staying within the contiguous United States. WOW, you're saying, THAT'S FAR!

All told with layovers and sucky Delta baggage-losingness, both trips exceeded, oh, 13 hours? In Rachel time this equals 1,273,91992 hours because I can't sit still for longer than five minutes unless I'm thoroughly engrossed in a book or magazine or crossword puzzle or game on my iPhone that I will hide underneath my jacket while the flight attendants make the announcement to turn off all electronics right now OR ELSE. I'm like a 4-year-old at church who's somersaulting all over the pews during the sermon and everyone is all, "Shut your kid up!" until Mike the kid's parents finally cough up a coloring book or some Cheerios or a pot and a wooden spoon. Anyway, the point is that the second leg of this particular flight required that I wipe out the supply of every newsstand at the Detroit airport because, oops I read my whole book in < 3 hours, thanks a lot speedreading class I took in middle school.

So there I am holding my huge plastic bag of magazines, well my former bag because its bottom fell out due to the National Forest worth of glossy dead trees it had been carrying. You know what two magazines make me kind of ashamed to be a female? Glamour and Cosmo, especially this one "column," term applied loosely, in Glamour that makes me feel the same way I do during the rose ceremony on "The Bachelor," i.e. like I've just forgotten everything I learned in college preschool plus basic motor skills.  It's called "Hey, It's OK!:" and its purpose is to assure all the middle class, presumably white females ages 18-34 that their wackiest, MOST OUTRAGEOUS secret behaviors are in fact quite normal. Here are some examples of what, hey, it's OK! to do (emphasis and emoticons mine):
  • to wear that dress to TWO weddings!!!!!!!!!! We won't tell!!!!!
  • to begin thinking about lunch at 9:35 A.M. We won't tell!!
  • to buy it without trying it on!!!!!!!!
  • to shove it in your closet and call your place clean!!!!! Secret's safe with us! ;-) ;-)
  • to eat Bon Bons in sweatpants on your couch all weekend when that jerk stops calling for no reason. You go, girl!!!!! P.S. We won't tell!!
Now I don't know about you, but I find little-to-zero shock value in any of these scenarios. I've personally done everything on this list, well if you replace "eat Bon Bons" with "kill a case of Charles Shaw while you watch 'Dawson's Creek: The Complete Series' from start to finish and therefore don't leave your apartment from Friday until Monday."  Hey, it was a long time ago. Call me crazy but it never occurred to me that I should feel guilty. Since my guilt threshold is clearly much less sensitive than Glamour's when it comes to things like household chores, fitting room habits, and meal planning timelines, allow me to throw out a few suggestions from the personal archives?

Hey! It's OK:

  • that in order to enter your walk-in closet you must first step inside a large moving box still half-full of clothes despite having moved in a hair shy of two months ago.
  • to have indicated for months on your calendar that 6:30 P.M. one week from today is the one-year anniversary of when you got the Most Godawful Mullet from Hell that You're Still Recovering from Emotionally, Physically and Spiritually (MGMHYSREPS), and whose trauma outweighed the combined aftermath of both the 1992 Coppell Cuttery perm that earned you the nickname "Chelsea" as in Clinton for a solid year and the time in second grade you sought revenge against your parents by butchering your own bangs to the length and texture of ragged toothbrush bristles. Boo-ya, mom and dad!!!!!
  • that you plan to light a candle in memoriam at 6:30 P.M. one week from today while singing "Bridge Over Troubled Water."
  • to spend two hours reading WebMD articles on gluten allergies because today you decided that you definitely have one.
  • that you know the names of  > 5 employees who work at the Chick fil-A on Sports Arena and you also kind of know who works when.
  • that one time you initiated an abrasive political e-mail war with one of your best friends when after the 2004 presidential election she forwards a lighthearted e-mail about average IQ levels in the red states and OMG you're from a red state, and your parents are raging Republicans and how dare she question their intellect! so you immediately reply all, "all" being your shared closest seven friends at school, in fact you even add a few because the more the merrier, and your performance as a humorless, hypersensitive a$$hat is witnessed by all, but wait, what you don't know is that five seconds after you press "send" you shall crumble into a pathetic pile of remorse that shall include the guilt-sob which BTW is the opposite of subtle and oh yeah, you're at King Library and it's 10:00 P.M. on the Sunday before finals.
 But hey... it's OK.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

natural disasters

I have earthquake paranoia. It's not that I'm scared of them exactly, I just always think they're happening. Is that a ripple I spy in my water glass? TAKE COVER! We didn't have these growing up in Texas. We had tornadoes, lots of them, and they petrified me. When we were little my parents would wake my brother and I in the middle of the night during horrific storms, sirens blaring, and bring us downstairs in case, you know, our house happened to get leveled to dust. Tornadoes are big and black and loud and pick you up off the ground and shred cars to bits, and who wasn't emotionally scarred by "The Wizard of Oz?" With earthquakes it's more of an intense fascination. I mean, the earth's crust is moving and we can feel it and hear it. Read that a few more times... pretty deep, huh? Also, I just felt an earthquake.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010