I am sort of perplexed about the recent uproar over the so-called “War on Women.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying there isn’t one, I’m saying it has been going on for millennia, ladies. Case in point: ratio of women’s bathrooms to men’s. Rise up, sisters.
Universal law: smoke detector batteries always fail under the following circumstances:
1. Husband is traveling
2. It’s 3:09 am
3. We’re out of 9 volt batteries
4. Ladder is in the garage, too big to fit through the interior door, and it’s pouring outside
In my case this comes courtesy of 10 and 6-year-old boys. Consider this crowd-sourcing and add your own.
Recently overheard…
“Franken-einstein, you know the one who makes guys weird.”
“Debussy liked to play with hemiolas.”
“I like to play with the girls, except when they play ‘Mad Cats,’ where they chase the boys. Sometimes I just need a break from that.”
“Gus, you know how I feel about jazz hands.”
“Hydrogen and helium. Discuss.”
“I don’t need a dollar. I’ve got China money.” A truer word…
Let’s talk about the R-word. First of all, in defense of its roots, it’s a useful word in the context of slowing down the progress of something. For instance, ritardando comes up in music a lot. Should it apply to people with mental or physical disabilities? Well, aside from the fact its connotation has rendered it offensive, its not a particularly accurate term anyway. So, let’s agree, no.
That word does pop into my head more than I’d like to admit. But if I’m to abstain, I do need a word to describe actions or persons who engage in actions so irretrievably ridiculous or irrational they merit they own word. It has no association with IQ. Bone-headed does not discriminate. I am among the most guilty. No matter how many times I do it, I am seemingly incapable of unloading the dryer without slamming that tiny protrusion on my elbow into the dryer door. And then howling in pain. Eric must think I really don’t like laundry.
So, I commence with finding an apt word for my lapses in judgment, lack of perception of bodily clearance, and general failure to act in accordance with my intellectual ability.
Here are the criteria I have assumed:
1. It can’t be offensive or derogatory to any group, other than people who do stupid things on occasion. We’ve already eliminated R. Bone-headed and block-headed may offend the generously-sized cranial types. I think PETA would take issue with “ass,” and besides that fails rule #2…
2. It has to work in verb, adjectival and noun form, as in, “I really _____ that”; “That was really ________” and “I’m such a(n) _____”. Stupid, dumb, idiot, and dense are out.
3. It has to be one short word or compound word. I am already having challenges managing myself, I can’t be expected to get multi-syllabic here. Boorish/boor and imbecilic/imbecile fail here too.
4. It has to convey the appropriate amount of ineptitude. Dull, inane, fool, and doltish are almost charming, they don’t say how narrow an escape from the Idiot Awards it was.
So, I’m left with making up a word – a word that suits the purpose without having the baggage of being a perfectly useful term that people loaded with connotation and contextual meaning and turned it ugly.
I’m thinking “gack” as in, “I really gacked that” and “Did you see that total gack?” Epic gack. Uber gack. Gack attack. No lack of gack. (I’m just hoping if I type it enough times my auto-correct will stop changing it to “back.”) Mortal gack. Back to back gack. Gack flack. And maybe even gackity-gack.
This guest blog hits on a pet peeve of mine. I would actually like a time-sensitive detonator that would start to smell like rotten fish if you don’t reply in a timely manner. If you specify RSVP, people don’t call. If you say “Regrets Only” they don’t call. If you have free tickets to Taylor Swift, they are going to call.
I have a similar rule with Christmas Cards. You get one grace year. Two years without a card, and you’re off my list. I make exceptions for people who may include me in their will, my Jewish friends, and Kristi Erickson.
Thanks, CSM for the snoot.
RSVP doesn’t mean “Reply If You Feel Like It”, but don’t bother if you don’t!
Why is it so difficult for people to RSVP? If I’m going to the trouble to invite you somewhere, the least you could do is let me know if you can make it or not. In today’s world, you don’t even have to talk to me, you can email, text or reply online thru the Evite I sent out. Just let me know! Are you waiting to see if you get a better offer for that day perhaps? Just commit already!
People still reply to wedding invitations at least, right? Maybe if I really want replies I have to include self-addressed, stamped envelopes with reply cards so all people have to do is check the box and drop it in the mail. I hate to think this disturbing trend has worked its way up to ignoring formal invitations too.
What I don’t understand is, everyone I know complains about not getting responses to their party invites- or more typically- the invites they sent out for their child’s party. You know, at the place that charges by the child so you have to have an accurate head count for them a few days in advance? And where frequently the pricing is tiered based on party size? Yeah, that kind of place, so it matters if you’ve got 8 or 14 or 24. And, of course, you have to have goodie bags for the right amount of kids. But if you didn’t reply and show up anyway, you can bet your kid will be the one going home without a goodie bag if I run out- and I hope he whines to you ALL THE WAY HOME that he didn’t get one. Then you can tell him that it’s *your* fault because you didn’t RSVP so we didn’t know your child was coming – not because the birthday child’s mom is mean or can’t count.
So, if everyone is complaining that no one bothers to RSVP for parties, that must mean they aren’t replying either, right? Or is there a small subset of people who not only don’t have the courtesy to reply, but also don’t have the courtesy to reciprocate? Maybe these people never actually HAVE parties so they have no idea how annoying it is to be the hostess trying to guess who is coming?
I’d like to start dropping the kids whose parents don’t reply from the party list- but of course they’re always kids my child really wants to include. So, like a good mom, year after year we invite them, and year after year I call a few days before to find out they’re coming or not…
Dear America,
We need to talk. Consider this an intervention. I know it’s unfashionable to talk about your faults, but we really need to address your addictions. I don’t mean foreign oil, cheap imports from China, or an unhealthy obsession with all meat in jerky form. I mean the things that are really holding you back. This may be American exceptionalism in the wrong direction. Here’s my list.
1. Metric system already. Rip that band-aid off.
2. Hand sanitizer. Germ-X sales alone are what has halted the slide into deep recession. An alert immune system is a good thing. While, I don’t recommend licking the floor in the DMV bathroom, soap and water goes a long way.
3. Use of “like” and “you know?” as punctuation or dramatic pause.
4. Daylight Savings Time. Either have it or don’t. Indiana, I’m talking to you.
5. Innovation in the form of new ways to get more cheese onto your pizza.
6. Lindsay Lohan.
7. ED commercials with clothed people in bathtubs. Just wrong on so many levels.
8. Goober Grape. Have we really fallen so far as a society, that we have to have our peanut butter and jelly pre-mixed?
9. “American Stuffers.” The name had promise. I thought it was going to be a documentary about an overeating epidemic. No, it’s a reality show about taxidermy. We not only invite ridicule, we serve it up on a platter with Lone Star and venison jerky.
Which brings me to #10…Really could it be anything else?
10. Jumbo Jerky Works Jerky Gun and Seasoning Kit
I know someone who owns this product–actually purchased it, not gifted. It has attachments so you can choose the shape of your jerky. It’s made in America. I looked it up. Who says American manufacturing is dead?
I have a new obsession. It’s something I call “Peek o’ Crazy” It is a glimpse into the void that is the mind of the general public. Here’s how it works…
1. Open a browser with Google
2. Start to type in an open ended question, like, “What would you say if…”
3. Stare bat-shit in the face.
4. Repeat for hours of fun.
Just a sample of what I was able to turn up in a few minutes…
What should I be…doing right now? Well, here’s a suggestion…Try to make Siri cry by telling her that that Google has been talking smack and you’ve only got eyes for Majel. Alternatively, back away from the computer.
Why won’t…God heal amputees? Really, you get one question about God and that’s what you’re going with. Are you serious?
What makes you think…I won’t cut you? Whoa, ok. Issues. Moving on.
Why does… my cat lick me? I’m going out on a limb to guess the asker is the same one who asked, “What should I be doing right now?” Assuming that’s the case then we can safely assume said asker is 200 pounds overweight, subsists on Ben & Jerry’s, has a deathly pallor and the cat probably rightly thinks is close to a sudden demise. Besides, the cat already googled, “Do cats…eat humans?” (I’m not kidding, it comes as number #5). And Fluffy knows the answer.
Eric commented on the dearth of snark lately and asked if I were in a good mood. I could not let such an accusation go unanswered. So here is one that I’ve been contemplating for, well, 16 years.
I live in a household dominated by boys–four of them if you count the dog. I don’t claim to understand their rituals and ways, but here are a few observations.
1. They are net zero beings and easily distracted by shiny objects. Anything they take on, they must jettison something else. This works with objects, thoughts, and especially to-do lists. It’s kind of like the “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” books. It’s easy enough to reconstruct why there are Hot Wheels in the refrigerator and a tape measure inside my boots if you accept this axiom.
2. Males cannot walk by throw pillows on any surface without batting them all off and stepping on them. This would never occur to a girl.
3. A trip to the bathroom is an event. He might need a snack or reading material. I really wonder why there aren’t special PS3 consoles.
4. The urge to streak is strong. The urge to engage in pants-free activities is apparently impossible to resist. I have actually had to state, out loud, my policy on underwear at the dinner table and while playing the piano.
5. Boys come equipped with the ability to make sound effects that girls can’t.
6. The rules of socks are complex. After much observation, I have decided they are such:
If you are in the house, when the shoes come off, so must the socks. It is imperative that you leave them on the floor, but never together in the same room.
If you are outside, if the shoes come off, the socks must stay on.
If you are upstairs, you may leave the only the left one on. The right must never be found.
7. Boys have a loose interpretation of table manners.
8. Once in the shower or bath, boys forget why they are there. The soap and shampoo bottles do not jog the memory. They need to be reminded of the steps involved.
9. Men will spend time setting up an elaborate process to accomplish a simple task. By the time their process in place, their women have accomplished the task, cleaned up after themselves, and bought shoes.
I’m in the 1%. That is, the 1% that can’t keep up with Facebook and how it is constantly evolving to new levels that annoy me. My FB exploded the other day; I wasn’t able to access it from my phone. So you’ll forgive me if I didn’t realize that you went to the grocery store. I realized though, that people had been sending me messages. This was a new concept to me. I had asked some very funny, like-minded snoots to guest blog, and I realized I had a real gem waiting for me. Thanks, CC for the hilarious snark…
Carissa’s Guide to Being More Interesting/Less Obnoxious on Facebook:
Let’s just put it this way, if I am ever stranded on a desert island with only Saran Wrap, I will use the lot to wrap around my nostrils and mouth and make a hasty exit. The only thing I can get Saran Wrap to stick to is itself. But, should I ever need a giant ball of pliable Vinyloid, I know right where to go. I think “Cling” Wrap is a misnomer. It’s more like Quasi-Adhere To Wrap, Gently Graze Wrap, or Mildly Attract Wrap. More like Crush Your Soul Wrap. It is one of the few occasions that I demonstrate the full range of four letter words in my arsenal. Children hide and the dog cowers.
Since tonight I was stranded on a dessert island with 22 cupcakes needing protection from the elements, Eric tried to instruct me on the finer points of Saran Wrap application. This is like trying to teach me to whistle. I PHYSICALLY AM UNABLE. It doesn’t matter how you try to explain it, how you demonstrate, or think you are “the one” who can break through. It will not happen. Besides, for those of you who do whistle, it does not sound good, no matter how good you think you are. Ok, that PSA out of the way, I cannot be taught to use Saran Wrap, that is why tin foil was made. If you do insist on trying to teach me, I may be forced to demonstrate the sharpness of the foil edge on your jugular.
Snooty Call 