Yes I'm Back and I'm Better Than Ever

I decided to take a summer break from writing the blog.

Because, let's be honest, nothing terribly exciting happens over the summer. I mean, yes it's nice and all, but really in the grand scheme of things, what are you going to have to write about?

"Oh, I slept in today because I didn't have to do anything, and that was quite lovely. I think I might drink some more coffee now and contemplate the nature of all of time and space."

Boring.

And, yes, the nature of time and space in and of itself is not boring, but reading about it from someone who does not travel around in a TARDIS is rather dull. (Hypothetical reader, please tell me you know what a TARDIS is... Dearie me. Well then, here. Educate yourselves.)

So I took a summer break.

But that does not mean that I stopped thinking or caring about you, dear, hypothetical reader. And so, as my first returning post, I will provide for you a list of things that crossed my mind and upon which I pondered over these months. Some I might later revisit and expand into a fully nonsensical post, and other, well, I just won't. Thems the prerogative of the blogger.

1) Buttered kittens.

2) Some water towers look like very large, colorful spiders.

3) You cannot go onto the Las Vegas strip after 4pm without being in danger of being puked on, yelled at, leered at, grabbed in some way, or the rather unique combo of all four.

4) I can fit my entire body into a laundry basket, contortionist-style.

5) CHICKEN FORK!

6) Come into Starbucks with a $75 order for 26, and the baristas will forever remember you. (If they didn't already)

7) Jumping from high places is actually not as bad as you think it's gonna be. (With safety gear. Please do not take this as an invitation to injure yourselves)

8) Naming things makes them far less frightening. And hence, Jimmy and Monica the spiders were defeated.

9) When running away know how to get there. And how to get back. And eat first.

10) When staring at the center of a dryer, not only do you get really dizzy, but if you choose two prominent pieces of clothing and watch them go 'round, it looks like they are having a rather rough-and-tumble circular battle. Adding dialogue can also improve the experience.

Enjoy, hypothetical reader. It is nice to be back.

An Amusement Park of Consumerism

Today, I walked into Target.

Shocking, right?

Not really.

But, I did leave Target with only what I needed to purchase upon walking in.

Whoa.

I know, hypothetical reader. You may need to read that a couple more times to let it sink in. Don't worry, I'll wait.

...

Ready? Okay.

And as I was waiting in the 10 items or less line (Granted it wasn't much of a wait, as it was me and some woman who I'm fairly certain was purchasing ten large bags of cat food.), it occurred to me:

Why is Target just so enticing? What is it that causes it to act as the cheap crack of the retail universe?

And then it hit me.

Target is like Disney. It's the Disney of consumerism.

Target is an amusement park of consumerism.

Think about it, the bright colors, the slightly subconscious piped in music, the confusing mazes of other similarly colorful things distracting other clumps of dazed people much like yourself. It just sucks you in.

And even the boring isles are exciting. Don't want to go buy boring toilet paper? No problem, you have to pass by all the colorful, nice smelling rows of air freshener to get there, because they are, inexplicably, in the same aisle. So why not pick some up at the same time? It's not like you need air freshener, after all, you don't live directly on top of a garbage dump full of mackerel. But hey, it might be a nice touch to some dinner party you're planning for the second of never if you happen to remember to dig it out from behind the cobwebs of wherever it was when I took it out of the bag.

Sucked in.

And then there's the really boring things. Garden supplies. No one comes to Target just to buy dirt. Well, that might be your initial intent, but in order to get there you have to pass...the candy section. Oh yeah, that's right. And it's sitting right there in all its sugary glory. Aisles and aisles of colorful, enticing, usually on some sort of massive we-don't-want-to-look-at-this-anymore type of sale. And you know you're trying to lose weight, and you know you have to wear a bathing suit to that party in a month. Your brain is telling you all of this. And then it engages. Target Hypnosis. You see the candy. You want the candy. You walk to the candy. You take the candy. You buy the candy. You take the candy home. You stare at the candy. You eat the candy. And it tastes good.

Sucked in.

Now, imagine for a second how different Target would be if, instead of exciting, dynamic red, the walls and accents were all beige. How boring. No alluring pictures of too-attractive people having way too much fun doing decidedly vague tasks. Just beige.

But then, who would go?

Declaring Mental Holiday

Continuing in the vein of declaring arbitrary ways in which the universe as a whole could be greatly improved (I know, in having a blog of randomness, one should not be writing on any kind of theme. The randomness will return shortly, I promise.) I would like to suggest yet another fantastic holiday.

I know what you're thinking, hypothetical reader, "How could she possibly top SnarkFest'11? That was going to be my new favorite holiday!" (For those hypothetical readers who do not know what SnarkFest'11 is, clearly you have not been reading my blog for very long. Now, that's not a judgment on you, hypothetical reader; just do better.)

But not only can I top SnarkFest'11, I will top it. Brace yourselves:

Mental Holiday.

Oh yes, I went there.

Now, this isn't your traditional holiday in which there is a set day (or days) in which to celebrate. No, this is a personally declared holiday whenever the celebrator needs it the most. Here's how it works:

Each individual gets a certain amount of "declarable days". Now, this can be based on a number of things; professional status, number of hours worked each week, amount of stress at home, number of children, number of pets, personal psychological state, etc. You get the idea.

Now, let's say, hypothetical reader, that you've been going crazy with and you've just had enough. And I mean enough. (For definition of enough, read The List of 10 Ways You May or May Not Know It's Gonna Be A Bad Week.) Or say the is just driving you up the Great Wall of China.

Fear not!

You can declare Mental Holiday. See? Don't you feel better already?

Now, I know many people already do this. They call them "mental health days". Now, that's all well and good, but wouldn't you much rather have the feeling of power you get when declaring your own holiday?

If for no other reason, this should be employed. Immediately.

Hive Mind? Heck Yes.

There are days when I think the Borg had something going. (For those hypothetical readers who do not know what the Borg are, tsk tsk. But I direct your attention here.) Hive mind can have it's advantages. For example:

It's somewhere in the wee hours of the morning , and you need caffeine like no other, as one does in the wee hours of the morning.

Well now, this presents a problem. Seeing as how you are even up and around in the wee hours of the morning, it would be an amazing accomplishment if you could also speak. So, unsurprisingly, ordering a caffeinated beverage of your choice is going to be difficult. (We are assuming that you are not such a regular at such establishment of caffeine that the workers already know what you want before you open your mouth. Yeah, that happens.)

Problem solved! Hive mind is engaged! Simply plug yourself into a conduit of some nature upon your entrance, and wait for your drink to arrive moments later, exactly to order.

Easy, right? I know, I'm kind of a genius.

Not only would this eliminate the frustrating ability that many baristas have to completely screw up your drink order despite the fact that you've screamed it at them numerous times over the bar. It would also eliminate the slow barista. That one chink in the chain that just can't seem to get their act together long enough to foam some milk.

Sad, I know, but they exist.

Indeed, hive mind solves such problems.

On second thought, simply having a line of caffeine related establishments run by the Borg would just be plain entertaining. It's the novelty factor, no?

I can see it now...

"Coming to a street corner near you: Starborgs. You will be caffeinated. Resistance is futile."

Straws Are Always Necessary

Here's why I like straws:

1. They can come in cool shapes. I once had a small collection of straws of various shapes, and I kind of wish I had kept them. There is nothing better than drinking the beverage of your choice in the shape of a rocket.

2. You can drink in many varying locations. Say you're lying in bed watching CNN (as one does), and you want some water. Now, that can get complicated. You have to sit all the way up, pay attention to the placement of your open lidded beverage, and make sure that the liquid does in fact get to the intended location. Leading one to...

3. They prevent unnecessary spillage. I am a giant klutz. And I mean giant. This is not any form of exaggeration. If I can screw it up, fall down, light it on fire, or break it, you better believe I will. This does not make for a good combination, then, if one is trying to have a quick sip of water in the easiest way possible. It will, in fact, end up in my lap.

I like straws. More people should use them.

Now off to get that towel...

Life is Full of Awkward Dance Parties

We've all been there: we're listening to our in and suddenly comes around in shuffle. Now, you aren't in . Well, of course you are. But you really don't care anymore. Because you love this song.

So you start dancing. Usually you are seated when this occurs, but sometimes you are in assorted standing positions (waiting in line, waiting for your drink). And then you dance more. Because this song rocks. And it's not till the song is almost completely over that you return back to planet Earth and realize that you'd gotten a little out of control from when you checked out. You're full-on lip-synching-like-a-pop-star and your dancing is way more out of control than the mild bopping it once was.

Oops.

And everyone has been staring at you.

I mean, everyone.

And usually we cower and blush and try to pretend like nothing happened.

Don't do this.

Life needs more awkward dance parties. Heck, life is one giant awkward dance party. Embrace this. Have the courage to face all the people staring at you like you just grew two lobster heads out of your shoulders, and say, "You know what? That was a killer song! I totally had the right to dance to that song!"

Embrace the dance party.

No One's Hometown Ever Makes Any Sense

We've all experienced this: we are away for an extended period of time from the place we have at any point called "home."

But, inevitably, one must return for any number of reasons.

And, subsequently, there are just some things that make no sense. Everyone accepts this to be fact. It is believed by most humans on the planet that their place of origin is the most nonsensical place on the planet Earth.

Maybe that's true. Maybe we, as humans, are just nonsensical beings. Maybe we are so observant of the happenings in this one place, that we can immediately pick up in such total silliness.

I will put forth an example:
I returned to Phoenix, AZ from where I attend university (obviously, not in Phoenix). Now, I did not grow up in Phoenix, but I had lived there long enough to be able to call it where I'm "from." I spent the majority of my high school career there.

In Phoenix, the airport has no trash cans outside along the bay of doors leading to the departure area.

This might not seem like a big deal, but it is. Especially when you are waiting to get picked up along that departure terminal and have no place in which to dispose your empty Starbucks cup.

There aren't even ash trays by the smoking areas. I was there for a while. I checked.

Who thought of that?

Now, I'm not one to litter, but I don't think as many people are as considerate as I am. There was a veritable Death Row of water bottles and other drink receptacles sitting in a sad little line along the outer wall. It would make the personified Earth Day cry herself to sleep.

Come on Phoenix, do better.

Now, I know that Phoenix and the state of Arizona as a whole have much bigger problems on their plate right now than the lack of a couple dozen trash cans (trust me, I know), but seriously? I thought this was kinda a no brainer.