Friday, November 15, 2013

Miniature black market pandas, grow lights, and cat poo...

Today was a typical Friday…I'm always tired, a little slap-happy, and very ready for the weekend.

A friend of mine emailed a panda meme that was absolutely adorable, which I shared with a few coworkers. This is the conversation which ensued:

Julie #1: That's adorable! It makes me want to hug them.

Me: I know! They just made my day.

Natalie: I resign. I am going to China to play with some super cute pandas!

Me: Maybe you should just buy one on the black market and keep it at your apartment.

Natalie: Only if they come in a miniature version and can be potty trained. Cat poo is bad enough!

Me: You could get some grow lights and grow bamboo. I'm sure that it would absorb the odor. And the police would never be the wiser…they would just think you were growing an illegal substance and when they show up you could just say…I'm growing bamboo for my miniature panda. They'd think you were crazy, see the bamboo, and leave. It's a win-win really.

Natalie: You seem to have thought this out. Are you trying to get me to illegally obtain and maintain a panda under the guise of craziness so that you can satisfy your needs for super cuteness?

Me: That's certainly one way to look at it.

Julie #1: It sounds like a fantastic plan.

Me: I think it's quite fabulous.

Julie #2: I'm staying out of this one.

Disclaimer: Although I have been known to have unusual pets in the past (hedgehog), I do not advocate, or have knowledge of how one could acquire a panda for personal use. But it would be really, really cool, until it's "bear" instincts kicked in and it mauled you in your sleep.

And here's a panda video for your viewing enjoyment…

Saturday, September 21, 2013

I don't have Channel 986...

My parents often call me to tell me when a "good" movie is going to be on. They will tell me the title, who's in it, why I should watch it, etc. Then, inevitably they will tell me which channel it's on. It's on Channel 6, Channel 58, Channel 4, Channel 986, Channel 6.2; you get the picture.

Then I ask which network this fantastic movie is on, often, the response is, "I don't know". I try and explain that I need to know because my Channel 4 is not the same as their Channel 4. My mother seems to get this, my father on the other hand doesn't seem to grasp the concept that Milwaukee and Minneapolis have different channel numbers for their networks.

Dad: "You mean you don't get NBC? What kind of cable do you have? Don't you have Time Warner"?

Me: "No, I don't have Time Warner and even if I did, our channel numbers would still be different."

Dad: "Why don't you have Time Warner? It's on A-TV. You're not looking right. Check your TV Guide."

Me: "I don't have a TV Guide."

Dad (with haughty derision in his voice): "Not TV Guide. Your TV guide. It's on A-TV, Kathleen. Channel 986 or Channel 6.2."

My father calls me by my mother's name when he gets frustrated with me; which is equally as funny as when my mother calls me by my father's name when she gets frustrated with me.

Me: "ATV? What the heck is that? I don't have ATV."

Dad: "It's Channel 986 or Channel 6.2. Talk to your mother."

Mom: "It's on ATV. Channel 986 or Channel 6.2."

Me: "This whole time I've been searching my TV guide, and I assure you I don't have ATV. I do, however, have Antenna TV. Is that what you mean?"

Mom: "Yes, Antenna TV...A-TV. That's what I said. Channel 986 or Channel 6.2."

I'm silently going insane.

Me: "Antenna TV is not A-TV, it's Antenna TV...A-N-T-E-N."

Mom: "Yes A-TV."

Me: "Not the same...A-N-T-E-N, Antenna TV."

Mom: "A-TV."

Me: "Not the same."


Mom: "Your father wants to talk to you. I'm sorry, honey."

She gets that he's special and demanding. They'll be married for 45-years on October 5th, which I figure makes her eligible for Sainthood.

Dad: "See, I told you you had it."

Me: "If you had called it Antenna TV from the start, we could have avoided this whole conversation."

Dad: "A-TV."

Me: "Stop calling it A-TV, it's Antenna TV. Are you doing this just to make me crazy? Go watch your movie."

Dad: "Okay, I expect a book report on this...go watch the movie."

Me: "Goodnight."

I didn't want to get into the whole thing about not being able to do a book report on a movie. I'd like to retain what little is left of my sanity, at least for the evening.


Thursday, September 19, 2013

George Orwell and Aldous Huxley were right...which means we're all SOL.

This post may seem random, but it really does have a flow and make sense. Sort of.

Have you noticed how many movies are being remade or how many versions on the same theme are being written? Do you think to yourself where have all the original ideas gone?

Movies and novels which involve the annihilation of the planet or humanity and post-apocalyptic dystopian societies seem to be particularly popular. Many authors, filmmakers, and artists have come up with some very exciting and ingenious ways in which the world and humanity will meet their demise.

Are these meant to be cautionary tales? Manuals for living in a dystopian society? Can we escape our own humanity? And then I seriously got to thinking...have all the "good" ideas for humanity's demise and our ever-looming dystopian future been used up?

I mean, there's zombies (classic and cliche); Godzilla (timeless); a planet wide EMP; time-traveling Borg; asteroids; comets; mega-volcanoes; earthquakes; tsunamis; genetically engineered dinosaurs and wives; biological warfare (a personal favorite); 'The Master'; aliens (from outer space not other countries); and evil dictatorships which may or may not have WMDs. Just to name a few.

So, on a rainy Saturday, I challenged myself to come up with some original ideas. I don't know that my heart was really in it though, because I only came up with two...but then again I was already a little depressed so thinking up end of the world scenarios and dystopian living didn't seem like it might contribute to having a positive attitude. My ideas were, in no particular order:
a) blow up the moon, and
b) drill 12 holes into the earth's outer core in strategic locations, and then launch WMDs into the holes simultaneously.

Then I decided to do some research to determine whether they truly were original. They are not, as the link to will demonstrate. I couldn't actually find a site for drilling 12 holes into the earth and launching WMDs at the core, but there were plenty of websites that have calculated how many nukes it would take to destroy the planet from it's surface.

Here's a fun link I found that provides a basic tutorial on Earth geology; it's fun for the whole family... is really a great site, and not just because it explains what would happen if we blew up the moon (which the site points out would be really dumb). It has all kinds of interesting space stuff.

And by the way...there are many websites devoted to figuring all this stuff out (in a very scientific way), which frightens me just a bit; because psychologically, the person/people who would actually attempt something like this are most likely to be scientists, just to see whether they could do it. Science is kind of like that. It focuses on action and reaction; there's no moral judgment, which I won't judge, just state for the record. Although, purposefully destroying humanity or the planet does seem wrong, really wrong.

A former co-worker once told me that he thought I wouldn't survive very well, if at all, if there were a nuclear attack. When I asked why, he told me he thought that because I didn't like to camp. While it's true I don't enjoy camping, I'm not sure what that has to do with surviving a nuclear attack. I told him that if my choices were being at the point of impact or being within a 50 to 100 mile radius I would prefer to be at the point of impact (for obvious reasons). But I digress. Hell, this whole post is a digression, I'm not even sure why I wrote it other than to entertain myself and maybe a few friends.

As humans, we seem to be rather obsessed with death, destruction, and redemption. How would one survive in post-apocalytpic world, a dystopian society? Maybe these movies and novels really are cautionary tales and survival manuals.

As for George Orwell's 1984 and Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, I find it eerie how close they came to predicting the direction society has taken. I would also add that the MaddAdam trilogy by Margaret Atwood is probably not far off from where we are headed either. If you have not read these books and are obsessed the demise or decline of society, I suggest you do so.

As for humanity's obsession with it's own decline and demise I can only posit that it's for one simple can only watch so many cute animal videos. But in the meantime, "Don't Worry, Be Happy".


Monday, September 9, 2013

Norwegian Sharknado, or what the fox say...

Alright, that may be a bit of stretch to call it Norwegian Sharknado, but like Sharknado I think I'll be talking about this for awhile. It's probably more like Norwegian "Weird Al" Yankovic, whose music I totally love.

If you haven't seen this, you should...

I really don't have anything else for this post.

Ylvis has left the building.


Thursday, September 5, 2013


I admit, I am not the most eloquent person, however, I'd like to believe that when it comes to pronunciation, I do okay. If I don't, then I just blame my genetics.

There are certain words that my father mispronounces, frequently; no matter how many times I tell him the proper way to pronounce the word. These words include, but are not limited to:

Incommercial (known to everyone else as an infomercial)
Frajita (or fajita)
Valentime's Day (that would be Valentine's Day, with an "N", not an "M")
Bryerly's (there's no "r" after the B; it's Byerly's, a local grocery store, for you out-of-towners)

On a positive note, my father gave me an expandable hose which he purchased after watching an "incommerical"; and it's way better than the stupid hose I bought at Home Depot which gave me bruises. I don't think it's Home Depot's fault, but you get what you pay for; and apparently a $25.00 hose is cheap in the world of hoses. When I told him I wanted another expandable hose for the back of the house he told me I should go to the Target place and ask where "the seen on TV incommercial place" was. I was specifically instructed not to purchase it from the incommercial on TV because the shipping and handling was more than what the hose itself actually cost. Message received and understood. I guess I'm off to Target. happy

Expandable hose my dad gave me...


Saturday, August 31, 2013

Did you change your underwear?

It's always interesting to come home and visit with my folks. It's about a 5 and half hour drive from my house to theirs. It's just far enough to ensure that weekend visits need to be planned.

When I arrived this afternoon my mom was folding laundry at the kitchen table. My father was sitting at the other end watching her fold his underwear and suddenly blurts out, "don't look at my underwear".

Me - are you talking to me?

Dad - Yes, it makes me uncomfortable.

Me - I've seen your underwear. I used to do the laundry when I was a teenager, and that included your underwear.

Dad - I don't remember that.

Me - It doesn't really matter whether you remember; I used to fold your underwear.

Then turning his attention to my mother he says..."Hey, 11 pairs of underwear, not bad for one week".

Mom - this two weeks, there should be 14 pairs here.

Me - Oh My God! Don't you change your underwear everyday? What's wrong with you?

My father just gives me a blank look and shakes his head.

Me - Well? Do you change your underwear everyday? It's totally gross if you don't.

Dad - When are you leaving? Don't you have to go back to Minnesota now?

Several hours later we are sitting in the family room watching TV, as a family, something that has been totally lost on me for the past 22 years, since I live alone. Anyway, I got up to go get a hair tie and when I returned to the family room, it was obvious some one had passed gas.

Me - Alright, who did that?

Dad - Did what?

Me - You know what? Who farted?

Dad - It was your mother.

Mom - It wasn't me, I have diarrhea; if I have to fart I have to go to the bathroom. Your father farted.

Dad - Why do yo always blame me?

Mom - Because it's you.

Dad - No one farted.

Me - Seriously, Dad. It didn't smell in here when I left and now it does. You farted. Why are you blaming Mom for your smelly fart?

Dad - When are you going back to Minnesota? Are you taking your mother with? Are you going to be here tomorrow?

Good times...I'll be here until Tuesday (maybe), so stay tuned.


Sunday, August 25, 2013

Very random crap...

Today's post is brought to you by the number 14,610.

When I told my mother I didn't like my belly button she became upset...because, as she explained to me, it came from her. I had no response to that. Well played, Mom, well played.

There's new information about Mars One, and I think those people are nuts;

...but I prefer this tiger cub video.

I threw away a perfectly good hose the other day because the sprayer fell apart and I wasn't able to put it back together, nor was I able to unscrew the sprayer from the hose. Now, before you go all, "why didn't you just cut the hose and put a replacement end on"? It's actually cheaper to buy a new hose rather than take the time to go through all of that. Besides, one of my enterprising neighbors probably took it out of my garbage. I can pretty much set anything out on garbage day and it disappears. Plenty of hoarders around. The new hose sucks by the way, but the sprayer nozzle is excellent.

One of my favorite books (when I was a kid) was The Fat Cat, a Danish Folktale. I recommend checking it out if you've got kids.

As a follow up to It's hard to find monkeys for people who are 40...

As you can see, my father found a monkey card,

and it's pretty funny...

The "money" wasn't what I expected. I actually didn't expect any money, but what I got was Allied Issued Military currency (Italian Lire); Chinese money, and Moroccan money.  My great uncle served in WWII and gave this money to my grandfather (long since passed) who gave it to my father, who has now given it to me. Pretty cool, heh?

...and in case you were wondering about the number 14,610, it's the number of days I've been alive. I was able to calculate this number all by myself, despite being a girl. Go suck it Children's Place.           ( ̄へ  ̄)


P.S. I think it's time for an 800 calorie cupcake.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

When you march to the beat of your own drum, you're the only one who knows where the downbeat is...

I've been feeling introspective these past few months and thinking if the present me could go back in time and talk to the 25 year old me, what would she say? There are certainly many things that could be said which the present me would think were wise and insightful. Then I realize it wouldn't really matter, because the 25 year old me wouldn't listen anyway. Some things you just have learn by living.

Joking aside, I have been doing a lot of soul searching recently, assessing my values as well as what I want out of life. I realize that I have a lot of rules, especially about food, so many in fact they can be grouped into categories. I have rules that sound satirical, but aren't; rules that are based on science and nutrition; and socio-political rules. My other rules are mostly about cleanliness and hygiene, and about man hair. What remains is just a bunch of neuroses I use to drive myself nuts.

I figure I come by these rules rightly. My mother had a lot of rules.

One of which was you can't wear shorts until it's at least 75 degrees. When you grow up near Lake Michigan it doesn't hit 75 until mid to late June (usually); but in the meantime, when it's 74, you look like a weirdo running around in your Toughskins when all of your friends are in shorts.

Another rule my mother had was the air conditioner couldn't be turned on until at least June 1st, which is usually not an issue in Wisconsin; the converse however, was the heat doesn't get turned on until at least October 1st. This can be dodgy, but that's why we have sweatshirts. I'm not sure where or how her rules originated, nor do I understand why the cooling and heating rules are date based rather than temperature based, like the shorts rule. She still follows the heat and cooling rules.

Another eccentric rule was that she would never where shorts without nylons; and these weren't the nylons that matched her skin. No, no...these were the nylons that were "mocha" colored. She was embarrassed by how white her legs were, but apparently had no qualms about wearing mocha colored nylons under shorts, because that isn't weird or anything.

My dad's rules were less complex... get up, go to work; come home, wash the car, eat, sleep, repeat. And the big one...stay off the lawn.

And now, I'd like to use this sentence to thank my parents for helping me to become the person I am today. Who knows how I would have turned out without all those crazy rules. I'd like to say a little less neurotic, but probably not.


P.S. I used to poke fun at my mom for how white her legs were, because in the summer I lived outside and was very tan. My legs are now whiter than hers and I usually don't wear shorts because I too, am embarrassed by how white my legs are.

P.P. S. I don't wear nylons under my shorts when I break down and wear them.

P.P.P.S. I don't wear shorts unless it's at least 85 degrees...I get too cold otherwise. And my rules about using the heating and cooling systems in my house are temperature based, not date based.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

It's hard to find monkeys for people who are 40....

My dad says a lot of stuff, much of which seems odd, even when taken in context.

For example, the title of this post. While it appears to be a stand alone statement, the context in which it was said pertains to greeting cards, specifically birthday cards. My father was apparently looking for a birthday card for my upcoming birthday. So in a couple of weeks, I'll be looking forward to a birthday card with some type of primate on it. Surprise!

Some of the other things I learned about card shopping...Wal-Mart is for old people and they don't have good cards or cards with monkeys. Target has good cards. Hallmark has a section with nickel cards, but they're hard to find. When I informed my father that they did not have a card section where cards cost a nickel and that there is nothing one can buy for a nickel anymore because it isn't 1935, I was informed that you can, in fact, purchase many things for a nickel and was subsequently challenged to a nickel war.

If you're wondering what a nickel war is, you are not alone. So I'll tell you. A nickel war is where you purchase things that cost a nickel every time you find them. Which I'm totally fine with, since this means I'll be saving a lot of nickels. Not really sure who will win this one, but I'm on the edge of my chair. Maybe he'll send a nickel with the card. Stay tuned for details.


Monday, August 12, 2013

Here's Blood in Your Eye...

Welcome to Monday!

If you don't like to look at pictures of eyes then stop reading.

It's always a joy to wake up on a Monday morning and finding a blood spot in your eye. It looks much more alarming than it is, but nonetheless gave me quite the jolt when I looked in the mirror this morning and reminded me why I didn't become a physician. The doc says it should clear up in two weeks or so. Fantastic.

I may have to come up with some fun story of how it happened. Because the truth is, let's face it, rather pillow did this to me. Yawn.

On a positive note, it should be a grand week. The weather is perfect. The sun is shining; it's warm but not too warm; it isn't humid (which is quite unusual for August); and I am one week closer to vacation. Yeah.

It can only get better.


Friday, August 2, 2013

People will tell you that Xanax and M&Ms are not a proper diet...

The neighbors recently started playing badminton in their backyard. I'm all for badminton...I love badminton, especially backyard badminton. But seriously, if you're playing badminton in your backyard, you should be playing by backyard margarita rules, which basically boil down to, "dude, I hit the birdie over the net". None of this three hits per side, or there's some kind of "imaginary" line that makes the little birdie go out and gives the other side a point.  If you're into the competitive stuff go join a league and let the rest of us have some fun.

When played in a backyard, the following games fall into the let's have fun and not get all competitive so we kill everyone's buzz category: badminton, volleyball, croquet, boccie ball, lawn Jarts (which you probably shouldn't play drunk, but then what's the point really?), and horseshoes.

And let's get this straight, if for some reason I end up on your team and you yell at me because I'm trying to have drunk backyard fun and you're desperate to win, I might just kick you in the nuts (even if you don't have them). Just remember it's the backyard and nobody cares whether you win, but they will remember how big a douche bag you were. And...if there are children involved and you make them cry, I will make you cry. Count on it.

Did you ever have one those weeks at work where you feel like you're in a scene from Animal Farm? That's pretty much how my week went. It really makes want to make up a bunch of random stuff and then say that I never said any of that. Some people would call it a cluster-fuck, however, I prefer goat rodeo.

And one more thing, can someone please explain how a person manages to get a speeding ticket during rush hour? I don't understand. Traffic moves at a crawl or at least 15 miles below the posted speed limit and yet some folks manage to acquire speeding tickets. If I ever figure it out, I'll be sure to let everyone know.


Thursday, July 25, 2013

I'm going out to find more, not onions, minions

Today's post is brought to you by the letter "E". 

Warning! If you are offended by swearing, the use of politically incorrect words that used to be socially acceptable in everyday language but no longer are, or socially sensitive topics, stop reading now. 

I've been seeing the letter E around a lot lately and I really like it, the letter E that is, not that I'm seeing it, but that's okay too. I've been seeing the letter K around a lot too, but I don't like that letter as much. And you know I'm pretty sure that Bert and Ernie are not gay...because they're muppets. I'm almost certain that muppets don't have a sexual orientation. Besides, if any muppet was going to be gay (or lesbian, I don't want to be gender biased) I think it would be Janice from Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem Band.

I heard on MPR today (no, that's not a typo, M stands for Minnesota) that they've developed a new shark suit that will reduce risk for scuba divers and snorkelers for being attacked by a shark. Apparently, sharks are confused by black and white stripes. I am very happy for them; but tell you what, I've got a remedy for that too...stay out of shark infested waters. I'm also pretty sure that the black and white stripes won't work if you come across a shark wielding tornado; nope, you need a chainsaw for that.

I'm pretty sure that I've developed adult ADD. On the ride home from work today, I had a gazillion thoughts and in the back of mind I kept thinking, I should have a tape recorder so I can record what I'm thinking because by the time I get home and try to write it all down I'll have forgotten most of it. I sang Outshined at the top of my lungs while driving home today. The guy in the pick up in front of me probably thought I was insane because I was really into it. I'm totally okay with that. I'll be turning 40 in one month. I had a major freak-out at 35, so I'm not expecting too much drama. However, there are a few things I'm looking forward to, like being able to say "Fuck-it, I'm 40"! That should actually work for the next two decades. It's the fffff sound.

My use of the "effen-heimer" goes up exponentially when I get stressed out at work and it was a crap-tacular day. I lost count of how many times I used that word. I used it as a noun, verb, adverb, adjective,  and probably some other parts of speech that don't exist in the English language. And I'm not done. Driving also brings out my effen-heimer vocabulary. There are a lot of fuckers, mother-fuckers, and fuck face drivers out there...and they were all on the road today. This is why I do not have children, nor am I allowed to drive with children in the car. Apparently, today is stop signs are optional day as well as I don't know how to use my turn signal day. It has been suggested that I use the word "genius" to replace the following words (often spoken in anger/frustration): moron, idiot, cretin, retard, fucker, mother-fucker, fuck-face, dick-head, jackass, ass-wipe, and asshole. I'm trying, but only successful about 50% of the time.

I watered my hydrangeas the other day with an acid fertilizer. I'm waiting for them to turn blue...they aren't blue yet. I just checked.

Oh, and here's another thing...Nick Cannon has come out with an album called White People Party Music. Really? Are you fucking kidding me? In light of all the racial issues going on right is this appropriate? At first I laughed and took it lightheartedly, but now I'm totally pissed off. I'm pretty sure that if some "white" dude came out with an album mocking black people it would be considered unacceptable. Of course this has already gone viral and everyone is eating it up like candy. This is just one of many reasons this country will never outgrow its racist past. I guess we all deserve the fucked up world in which we live.

And now I need to go apologize to my coworker who graciously listened to my effen-heimer rant.


P.S. I now have seven minions and they make my laugh.

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Tornadoes, Sharks, and Chainsaws...Oh My!

I'm having a mid-life crisis. Really. I'm about to turn 40. Now before you poo-poo me, or say I'm too young, recognize that the average lifespan is 78.6 years. I think that I'm the perfect age for a mid-life crisis.

This crisis isn't about turning 40, not really. Age really is just a number and I feel much younger, accept when I meet some punk kid a few years out of college who thinks the world owes them. Their misplaced sense of entitlement irritates me, but that's really a topic for another post. Over the past several months I've found myself asking more and more of those "little" life questions..Is this all there is? What is my purpose? Why am I here? Should I be doing more? Doing less? What makes me happy? Has reading and watching science fiction made my expectations of what life should be warped and unrealistic? The questions are endless, really; but that last question is a great transition to what this post is really about, well sort of.

I couldn't resist writing a post about the SyFy Original Movie, Sharknado. It has gotten so much buzz that I had to watch it (well most of it, the last half) in order to understand what all the fuss was about. Yes, it was bad, but no more so than any of their other intentionally bad movies. And let's face it, it's been done before. MST3K made an entire show on making fun of bad movies with witty repartee. I've actually been beginning to wonder what Crow and Tom Servo would have had to say if they had been watching Sharknado. I really miss MST3K. I have a tough time watching a bad movie without them; it just isn't the same. And if you don't know about MST3K, you can look it up on the internet.

I also have to wonder if the public response to Sharknado is somehow connected to the crazy shit going on in the world right now. Not sure, just a thought.

Just remember, if you're ever going to fight a shark wielding tornado, make sure you bring a chainsaw. You might need to fight your way out of the shark after he swallows you, and a bowie knife just won't cut it. It's certainly a use for a chainsaw I hadn't previously considered. It's good to learn something new.

P.S. I know you're all (all three of you) wondering how the dating scene is these days. It's the same, utterly depressing. There are a lot of emotionally damaged men out there. It's tough to find someone whose emotional damage and fallibility is compatible with your own. But I am a glutton for punishment, so I sally forth.


Thursday, January 24, 2013

I'm Over the Moon...and Mad about Mars

What ever happened to colonizing the moon? Weren't we supposed to have a colony on the moon by now?

Well, apparently we're going to skip the moon and jump right to Mars. There's a project out there called Mars One, sponsored by a private company in the Netherlands that is planning to build a colony on Mars, and then basically turn it into a reality TV show. The possibilities of reality TV really are endless. I guess that Dutch company is bored with watching the mentally ill and emotionally damaged people here on Earth and decided it was time to branch out.

If you view their website and introduction video (link below) it will provide you with a riveting description of the project. They also point out that this is a one-way ticket. "Astronauts" will be expected to live out their lives on the barren red rock.

When I initially heard about this, a gazillion questions popped into my head simultaneously. One of which was, what about the moon? Weren't we supposed to colonize the moon first? Why skip right to Mars? Is it a gravity thing? Because Mars has reduced gravity too. Why is the moon now a secondary player?

Other questions that followed included, in no particular order, and the list is by no means comprehensive...

What will they eat? Can you grow food on Mars? Are they bringing seeds, plants, and dirt from Earth? Is there enough sunlight? What about the light/dark cycles of the plants? The plants developed on Earth. How will the plants perform on a planet with a different atmosphere and gravity? Or will they recreate Earth conditions for the "plant bio-dome"? Will they genetically engineer special plants prior to the colonists departure? And what about animal protein? Will they bring freeze dried meat with them?

What will they do with waste? Can you burn stuff on Mars? And what about human waste? That stuff is going to build up...

How will they create gravity? Prolonged exposure to lack of gravity, and subsequently exercise, can lead to osteoporosis. Which leads me to...what happens if someone gets sick? What if someone develops MS or cancer? Do the colonists just have to tough it out?

What happens if one of the supply ships goes astray on the way to Mars? Will they enough back-up supplies to make it through?

Another nagging question is, what emotionally healthy person would agree to this? I mean, it's a one-way are not coming back, ever.

But if you're feeling like you want to get away, you just might want to check out how you can go to Mars. Check it out...

Monday, January 21, 2013

Sexy, Vapid, Stepford Wives...or Opposite

I've given up on the dating thing...really. I took a break for about a year from the IJL thing, because really after so many crummy, but hand-selected, less than spectacular dates I just couldn't take it anymore. But then I got a letter saying that the hold on my account was about to expire and I started thinking I really should finish the contract because I paid for it and even if the dates are all bad, my frugal upbringing taught me that wasting money is bad, which is way worse than a bad date, so I finished the contract.

The dates didn't improve. Granted, there weren't any more autistic beekeepers, but it just didn't improve. IJL would ask "how can we get back on track"? And I would respond, "how about someone who actually reads and enjoys the theater, and music". Or just give me the opposite of what I asked for. Oh, and by the way, I prefer Caucasian men (yes, I know that's racist, but that's just where I'm at). You know what the opposite of Caucasian is? It isn't what you think. It's a Japanese guy named Carlos who grew up in Peru. I'm not kidding.

The irony is that when they actually matched me up with what I asked for (on paper anyway), he's a foot and a half taller. I'm 5'0" (in the morning when I wake up); 5'3" in a good pair of heels. It really is a special experience to stand next to someone who's still more than a foot taller when you're in heels. And that was the last date with them.

So then I think, I'll try Match. Mega mistake. I can not stress this enough. And when you call them to ask for your money back after only 48 hours because you've been freaked out by the fact that in less 48 hours you've received approximately 300 winks, emails, and whatever the hell else people do, they say "no". Even if you spend 25 minutes on the phone arguing with several people they still say, "no, that's not our company policy". Many of the emails contained lewd and suggestive language...I said I felt threatened. Apparently, I do not know the super secret code word for getting a refund. I'm sure there is one, I just don't know it and now I hate them and think they have bad business practices for not refunding my money...because I canceled my membership after 48 hours.

Of course now I've been analyzing my childhood and all of the off-handed comments my parents made over the years that were in no way meant to negatively impact my ability to trust another human being and form positive relationships, but obviously that failed and I remember those comments vividly.

Watching All in the Family...Gloria's friend gets "in trouble" (aka..70's lingo for pregnant). My mom says.."that's what happens when you spend too much time with boys". I was in second grade at the time and although I had no clue what that meant, I developed a fear of spending time with my friend Jason, because I thought I would get "in trouble". I didn't actually learn what being "in trouble" meant until we got the talk in health class at school (and that was 5th or 6th grade). So, I've been on the pill for 20 years and have no intention of going off of it until I hit menopause. I'm not kidding.

Watching The Stepford Wives (I'm not sure why my mom let me watch this since the first PG movie I was allowed to see at the movie theater was E.T.) mom's comment about the whole plot..."that's what men do, they're pigs and the women are idiots with low self-esteem". I now have a disdain for suburban, housewife soccer/hockey moms who have ponytails, wear tracksuits, drive SUVs/minivans with their big ole' mocha-machi-lattes. But I respect their choice, really. Just stop polluting the planet with your 2 mile per gallon Hummer, which you don't need because you're not going to drive up a building or fight a war in the desert.

Dad dropping me off at school in seventh grade..."Why do all these girls look like hookers? Do you know these girls? Do their parents know they leave the house like that? Someone should take a fire hose to them and wash off all that makeup". I don't think I wore makeup until went away to college.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg. So for now, I'm going to wallow in my misanthropy and consider a trip to Mars. But Mars is a topic for another post.