9 reasons I may be the stupidest person I know

January 6, 2013 § 1 Comment

ImageSo for the most part I consider myself intelligent. I read books without any pictures, I can carry on a conversation about current events, I can write coherent sentences & I even teach students,  so I know I don’t lack knowledge. All that beng said every once in a while I’m reminded of how utterly stupid I can be. Maybe stupidity isn’t the right word just totally unaware of the obvious (no I can’t sugar coat it it’s stupidity) Now since I consider you all friends I’m going to share 7 stories of utter stupidity with you so you can all feel better about yourselves & get a laugh at my expense. Ok here we go:

1) I just realized that if you put Kanga and Roo from Winnie the Pooh together it’s a Kangaroo (no seriously this blew my mind)

2) I thought the Hatfield’s & The McCoy’s was a mini-series on Enron & Bernie Madoff

3) In Cast Away with Tom Hanks I just thought Wilson was a clever name. Imagine my surprise when I was in WalMart & saw a whole bunch of volley ball’s with Wilson on them. You may think I put and two together but no I said “Oh they renamed them because of the film”

4) As me and Ben were taking a hike one day he asked me “Hey do you know what the Rock says?” to which I answered “Umm duh, “Can you smell what the Rock is cooking” I didn’t see why suddenly he was crying in laughter. Between him gasping for breathe he pointed to a historical monument in the shape of a rock with writing on it. Apparently he had meant the actual Rock and not my favorite wrestler turned actor The Rock.

5) Another Tom Hanks shocker in the movie Forrest Gump I was always baffled by why they showed Forrest with John Lennon. When we were watching that particular part I voiced my confusion for this “This part of the film doesn’t make any sense. Every other part has a point why is he having a conversation with John Lennon that leads nowhere” Ben just put on the song “Imagine” & walked out of the room with his head down. 

6) Ben was watching the movie Amadeus and I asked what it was about. He gave me a blank stare and said “Umm Mozart” to which I said “What does Amadeus have to do with Mozart?” Apparently Mozart had a first name-who knew?

7) I thought Napoleon crossed the Delaware not George Washington (they both had blue jackets with buttons it’s confusing)

8) Jersey Boys turns out is not a musical adaption of “The Jersey Shore”(although I still say it would sell like crazy)

and finally

9) All these years I have been mishearing the song lyrics to a Prince song. I was singing in the car and Ben gave me one of his looks “What are you singing?” “this song” I replied “It’s Raspberry Beret not Raspberry Chevrolet. Why would you think it said Chevrolet?” “I thought it was the sequel to “Little Red Corvette”” It was not.

Hopefully after reading these if you are ever feeling down you can say “well at least I’m not as dumb as that woman” YOUR WELCOME.

{ even my cat needed a hysterectomy }

November 21, 2012 § 1 Comment

Oh you read the headline right, I pretty sure I am like a magnet to a compass only I destroy all uterus’s that come in my vincity. I’m pretty sure I might be the Bermuda Triangle of reproductive health.About two weeks ago we started to see a stray cat at our back door and slowly began trying to lure it with food (hell I would go into a strangers house if they had random free treats), finally we built up enough trust  to get her inside. We had every intention of giving her a warm bed and meal and then off to our local shelter in the morning. However 1 hour later and one huge set of Puss’n’Boots eyes later it was pretty clear she wasn’t going anywhere. The next day I had a appointment with the vet to get her checked out, as they ran all the tests I was in the waiting room ready Dog Fancy. The vet soon called me back and gave me a run down of all the things wrong with her but easily fixed but then came this statement “and she’s pregnant!” “Pregnant?” Great of all the kittens I had to take in I got the town tramp.Oh god what if she was a cat hooker and her pimp will be coming looking for her. As understanding as Ben had been about one cat I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be able to hide a littler of kittens (although I was already starting to think of hiding places, that’s not a kitten it’s just one of those googly eye cat clocks) As I was absorbing this information he leaned in, looked both ways and whispered “However, we can fix that with the spay, if your beliefs allow you” Holy crap he’s talking about a kitty abortion (perhaps I’m naive but I didn’t know there was such a thing) I am a feminist by nature and always vote for pro-choice but I didn’t know the rules for cats. Then I had this vision of me walking in the door and being surrounded by cat protesters with their pro-life signs & heckling us by throwing cat toys. Would she be shunned by the community & become an outcast amongst the other animals. Does Roe vs Wade apply to cats?

Let me fast forward to the next appointment where the vet comes out and says “Well she’s not pregnant she just has an infected, inflamed uterus” (Ahhh this brings me back) With that information my new kitty had to have a hysterectomy. After all the drama that I had to go through to get one I was a little amazed all it took was me saying “Ok”. No “what if she wants children someday?”, “she’s not getting any younger” or “maybe she should go home and ask her husband first” (oh yeah that happened to me) Just  hey she’s sick lets take it out. She didn’t have to put her paw on a paper that said “we can’t put it back” (yes that happened to me as well) Just a 3 days, mine took me just under 10 years.

Last night we were all curled up on the couch me, Ben, Page (our first cat) and Zephyr (our new cat) not one uterus between the four of us. I’m sure Ben was feeling out numbered and thanking his lucky stars that cats don’t go through menopause or he wouldn’t have a chance.

{ weddings are just proms for adults }

October 21, 2012 § Leave a comment

Me at my senior prom

Tonight I got to watch my niece get ready for her first homecoming dance & I discovered  one of the reasons getting older sucks. It’s not the number, or the fact you fall asleep at 9:00, it’s not even the fact that you are holding on to the hope to one day fit back into those jeans, it’s the fact that nothing is as exciting as those moments when you are growing up. Seriously, what is as fun as going to your friends house the night of a dance, all of you packed in the bathroom & putting on your makeup (horribly I might add) & having someone else do your hair? When’s the last time you felt as pretty as when you were in high heels that didn’t really fit & lip smackers Dr. Pepper flavor, was the height of sophistication? Was my prom like it was in Pretty in Pink, heck no I’m still waiting for Andrew McCarthy to show up and no one ever spiked the punch(seriously in movies where do those kids get a flask, I’m 30 and don’t know where to get a flask).

What was my prom like you might ask? First of all I went with a closeted junior so he was more interested in the waiters than he was of me.  I also learned never go to any event with a man who wears more glitter than you do. Anyway, I really wanted to go with John and I was absolutely head over heels for him and the whole night I just hoped for the perfect high school movie ending (him & his date would be dancing and he would look at me and realize he had been in love with me this whole time, he would push her out of the way and ask me to dance and then a slow song from Ricard Marx would come on-Perfect ending). Instead the dance ended and me and my friends had a sleep over and ate Doritos all night-whats better than that? And that was my point of my rambling (yes there was a point) even though the night wasn’t perfect it was still full of possibilities.(PS if you were hoping for me to say I found John on Facebook years later and he was fat & ugly, I hate to tell you but he is even better looking, has a full head of hair & owns a boat-but on the flip side my gay date is a now male go-go dancer in NYC)

So it got me and my sister law trying to think of what our age comparison would be and we figured attending weddings is the closest thing us grown ups get to an “adult prom”. Some comparisons:

  • Highschool Dance: You keep hoping that the boy you like will pull you in his arms Weddings: You hope that creepy guy in the corner doesn’t grap your ass during the locomotion
  • Highschool Dance: You hope for a slow dance so you have an excuse to get close to your date Weddings: You pray they won’t play a slow song because you have no idea where the hell your date went to or he’s part of the weeding party so you are forced to sit alone
  • Highschool Dance: You are so excited to get dressed up & put on makeup Weddings: You wonder why the hell you had to dress up on a Saturday, this is the day for PJ’s. You have to get dressed up everyday for work the last thing you want to do is have to do your hair on a weekend
  • Highschool Dance: Your date buys you a corsage Weddings: Your date buys you shit & complains about how he’s stuck at this wedding
  • Highschool Dance: You get to have a sleepover at your friends house Weddings: The only time is acceptable to stay with your friends is when your house is flooded or full of bugs
  • Highschool Dance: There’s free food!! Weddings: You had to buy them a $80 blender to get a crappy piece of chicken
  • Highschool Dance: You go home floating on cloud nine Weddings: You wonder how the hell that troll looking girl just got married and you are still without a ring
  • Highschool Dance: You look forward to see the poster go up in the gym for the next dance Weddings: You get your invitation and you wonder if you can pretend it got lost in the mail
  • Highschool Dance: You will never feel prettier Weddings: As a bridesmaid, you will never feel uglier
  • Highschool Dance: You are embarrassed that your parents had to drop you off & then pick you up Weddings: You wish you had someone to drive you because there is an open bar

{ duct tape & the D cup }

August 2, 2012 § 3 Comments

I recently had a striking loss in my life, that’s right my favorite bra is on it’s last legs (well straps). You know that bra that no matter what outfit you have on it makes you look amazing. The bra that no matter what cut of neckline it always works. The bra that somehow never needs adjusting and is so comfortable you can sleep all night in it. You know the bra that when you finally find the perfect size, cut, brand and color; they suddenly stop selling. I mean it’s like it never existed not online or in the stores. Ask the saleswoman and she’ll give you a blank stare like you have invented a ghost bra that never existed. Did little bra elves and fairies drop this one bra in the store just for you and then never to be heard from again? But needless to say when you have “the bra” you want to keep it for as long as humanly possible, you make sure it goes in the locked safe just in case you get robbed.

Unfortunately the other day it happened. I was lifting a huge box and I hear a rip (I was overjoyed to see my pants were still in tact and my ass was not exposed) But upon closer inspection I found that my favorite bras underwire had broken in two and was jetting outside of the fabric. That’s right I have worn it so many times that the metal gave way. Now what would a normal person do? They would buy a new bra and be done with it. What did I do? I got some medical tape and taped it back together. So my beautiful black lace bra now has a huge mass of plastic tape around the bottom. Yes I am aware that it looks insane and probably looks as ridiculous as those people that attach their car windows with duct tape and plastic bags, but I was not giving up hope.

So I am wearing my bra and quite frankly pretty darn impressed with myself and my combination of MacGyver & Project Runway smarts. From the outside you can’t even tell, like always it looks perfect and my outfit looks amazing. So I didn’t hestitae wearing it to my doctors appointment. It was just a rountine checkup, he usually just asks me to breathe, checks my throat and I’m out of there. We are in the middle of take a deep breathe in, when he says “Michelle Your breathing is a little uneven and your heart rate is a  little elevated I would like to an EKG just to make sure there’s no cause for alarm. I’m going to get a nurse in here but I need to you get in a gown but you can keep your bra on” Then it hits me, not that I might have some weird heart diesease but I a wearing my bra that is held together by tape and dreams.Shit what the hell am I supposed to do? I guess I could run out of here & blame it on the hormones, it also occurs to me that I could just take off my bra but that would mean the nurse is walking in on some crazy topless woman.No I have to accept what is coming, so I take a deep breathe and the nurse starts putting wires on my chest and then hones in on the huge patch of tape wrapped around the underwire of my bra. I can tell she doen’t want to bring attention to her staring but really she can’t pull her eyes away she’s really trying to figure out what the hell is going on or thinking “She didn’t look homeless when she walked in” She went the route of ignoring it completely (which was fine with me, we will both ignore the crazy woman in the bra held together by tape) just when I thought I was out of the woods I heard the following “We aren’t getting an accurate reading I need to slip this under your bra” (I still believe she just came up with this to get closer to my tape bra) I start to take off the bra and realize that with it being so hot today the tape has actually melted onto my skin and I’m going to have to rip this off like a friggin band-aid. So with a huge smack I finally got it off and realized it was time for a new bra (Maybe?)

{ Much Ado About Thirty }

May 20, 2012 § Leave a comment

a typical Friday night in my 20’s

For my birthday I posted the 10 reasons it’s better to be 30 than 20 but  I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also do a post of 10 things that get worse in your 30’s (Sorry but I can only be an optimist for a limited time)

At 20: When I got a phone call at 10:00 pm on a Friday I thought “Alright there’s a party somewhere” At 30: I get a phone call at 10:0o pm on a Friday and I think “Oh great someone’s been in an accident or dead”

At 20: They were just “my jeans” At 30: They are “My skinny, one day I hope to fit into them again jeans” ( I secretly keep them in my closet still convinced that my new dryer shrank them)

At 20: When my mom used to take me to a movie in the middle of the week I used to give her an eye roll when she said “Why is it so packed on a weekday? Don’t these people have jobs or school?” At 30: I recently went to see Hunger Games on a week day (the first showing because tickets are a $1.00 cheaper) and as we pulled into the parking lot I caught myself saying “Why are these kids here isn’t there school? Is it a holiday?  Don’t these parents work?” (Kind of a double whammy because you catch yourself saying things your mother said and you vowed to never say them when you got older)

At 20: I used to be able to eat anything I wanted At 30: My meal choices are based on whether I have to be up early the next day or if I remembered my heartburn pills.

At 20: I used to date guys with mohawks, black eyeliner and neck tattoos. At 30: I see a group of those guys and I wonder what they are up to.

At 20: Listening to Nirvana and Pearl Jam meant you were rebellious and on the cutting edge of music At 30: No one knows who the hell Nirvana is and they are under Classic 90’s on Pandora.

At 20: A Saturday night out consisted of bar hopping, going to one of our boyfriends shows (that’s right we all dated musicians back then) and not getting home until 2:30 am Sunday At 30: A Saturday night out is picking up my Chinese food

At 20: Dinner was anytime after 9:00 pm At 30: We try to have dinner at 5:00 to “beat the crowds”

At 20: I only took naps when I was sick At 30: The promise of a nap is sometimes the only thing that gets me through a day

At 20: Moving only took a half a day and only cost you a case of beer At 30: I have put off moving for 3 years because I worry it will be mistaken for a Hoarder intervention

a typical Friday night in my 30’s

{ it’s my birthday & i’ll cry if i want to }

May 19, 2012 § 3 Comments

me at 20

Last year I turned 30 and went through menopause all in the same year, so one would think I would have nothing to fear from this birthday (I mean short of me being in the same room with all my ex’s, me gaining 30 pounds or suddenly realizing they forgot to take out my uterus this should be a piece of cake…mmmmm. I want cake) So I was really surprised with the growing anxiety of my impending birthday. You know those people that say things like “age is just a number” and “your only as old as you feel” well frankly they piss me off and they are only saying it because either they are a hell of lot younger than you or because they know they look friggin’ old. Also I just heard some annoying jackass on TV refer to 30 as being middle-aged, they should censor shit like that. If you are going to fine Janet Jackson (Miss Jackson if your nasty) for showing her boob ( I’m sorry her middle-aged boob) then the FCC should fine that idiot,t00.

So in celebration of me turning 30 (for the second time) I am listing 10 instances of why I’m glad I’m 30 and not 20 anymore:

At 20: I once had a boyfriend who waited a month to break up with because he wouldn’t have a ride to school At 30: My boyfriend owns his own car (and it runs)

At 20: 2 items from the dollar menu came dangerously close to over-withdrawing my bank account At 30: I have overdraw protection and a savings account

At 20: I thought all wine came in a box  At 30: I actually have unopened bottles that I’m purposely saving

At 20: I used to buy Bartles & James from my local Rite Aid  At 30: I visit wineries & local vineyards

At 20: I only owned one pair of shoes  At 30: I have a cute pair for every outfit and occasion

At 20: Some of my part-time jobs included ( I am not making these up): Magicians Assistant, Face Painter, Merch Chick for local punk band, Living Art Model and Thrift Store Sorter  At 30: I teach students in their twenties

At 20: Some of my ex boyfriends included ( I’m not making these up either): A Magician, An anarchist, a guy who looked like a pterodactyl, a guy who had the entire Lord of the Rings story tattooed on his arms, a guy named Cooter,  a guy who roller bladded inside the house and a guy who asked to borrow $20 bucks to get to another girls house At 30: Dating the same man for 7 years (even if he irons his sweater vests, weirdo)

At 20: Always worried that I was pregnant  At 30: Never have to be worried about pregnancy again

At 20: Was trying to get everyone to like me  At 30: Everyone should like me because I’m so friggin awesome & if they don’t they are obviously the person with the problem

At 20: I thought 30 was really far away  At 30: 40 seems right around the corner (wait that’s not better, shit)

me at 30

{ shouldn’t you buy me flowers first? }

March 17, 2012 § Leave a comment

A day before my consultation with the surgical oncologist  I got a call from one of the people in her office just to make sure I was prepared and if I had any questions on what to bring. Should be a fairly uneventful conversation, right? So I have no idea when the conversation took a weird unexpected turn:

“Hello Michelle I am calling on behalf of Dr. What’s Her Name to just briefly go over what to expect from your appointment tomorrow.” Great, thank you. “So you should arrive 15 minutes early and make sure you bring the forms we sent you. You have filled out the forms we sent you right?” Of course, I filled them out the day I got them (shit I’ve got to fill out those forms, double shit I have to find where I put those forms) “Wonderful. You would be surprised by how many people leave them to the last minute” Really, you don’t say (Seriously where the hell did I put those damn forms) “You will be meeting with the nurse to go over your medical history and then you will have an exam with the doctor, any questions so far?” (Um yeah what happens if you loose your forms.) Um, No questions. ” As for clothing it’s really important that you wear something that you can easily get over your head. The easier the garment can me removed the better” So what I usually wear on dates, Got it. “We prefer a bra that can you can snap on & off fairly quickly” (Ok now you sound like my boyfriend.) “Unlike the mammography office we would prefer you wear deodorant and please make sure all hair in and around the area is shaved” (Ok seriously I don’t take this long on anniversaries to get ready. That is a lot to ask for someone I haven’t even met yet. I usually like to be wooed a little. You have to earn shaved armpits and an easy access bra.) “Depending on where the mass is the doctor might require you contort your upper body so prepared to be a little sore the next day. And I think that’s it, Any questions?” (Did I accidentally make my appointment with a brothel?)

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