Olympic Spirit

While I was in Alabama, my sisters invented a new sport.

It all began with the genocide (mass suicide) of the amphibian population in my parents yard. Every day when we go out to swim, my sisters first clean out the pool filters. There are various reasons for this, not the least of which that we have found on separate occasions both a giant rat and a snake in the filters. No one wants to swim in snake-infested waters. So, we check and clean out the filters before we hop in. The first day that we were going to swim in the completely-filled pool, the girls went out to check the filters. They found frogs. Lots of frogs. 17 to be exact. Actually, 19 total- 2 alive, the rest not so much. We're not really sure if it was the pool chemicals or the inability to get out of the water that killed them, but there they were. So, they pulled the filter out, trying to balance the stack of frogs all the way to the fence. What we usually do when we find creatures in the pool, is throw them out into the yard. Far out into the yard because that way they won't be right near the pool smelling bad and attracting more creatures that could fall into the pool and drown. So, we kind of fling them.

Thus "frog-flinging" was born.

Jo would first load the frog up into the catapult:
And then Bear would fling it into the yard:
By the end, she had a whole method. According to Bear, when it comes to frog-flinging, it's all in the legs. She's pretty sure she's going to medal in this event.In the end, all the frogs were dispatched to their final resting place and then we all went swimming.
Tom celebrated by diving headfirst into the part of the pool that's only 5 feet deep. :-p

"All I'm Saying Is, She's Got Options."

Dad (about my sister, Jenny): "I think she'll end up being a cat rancher... or a doorstop."

Won't Somebody Think of the Children?!?

Our plane was set to land in Atlanta Friday night, and my mother and sisters were supposed to pick us up. They had NO idea what they were in for.

I'd forwarded our itinerary to my mother 2 months before the trip, but apparently she didn't look very closely at it. Our plane set down right on time, and I called my mother as we taxied down the runway.

Me: "Hi Mom...we're here. Probably be off the plane in the next 10 minutes or so."
Mom: "What airline are you on?!"
Me: "AirTran, why?"
Mom: "Because your itinerary didn't say what airline you were on, so I dropped Bear off at the curb to go in and see if she could figure it out. But now this stupid cop keeps honking at me, and Bear isn't back."
Me: "Just circle around! Bear's 20 years old, she'll be fine, and we'll be out soon."
Mom: "I just let Jo out of the car to look for her!"
Me: "Why would you do that?! Bear will be fine! Jo's too little to be wandering around the Atlanta airport alone!"
Mom: "Oh my GOD this idiot police officer keeps honking at me. I have to go."
Me: "OK...I'll call you when we get out."

So, we get off the plane and head toward baggage claim where Bear is probably waiting for us. Because the Atlanta airport is an absolute monstrosity, we actually have to take a tram to get there. So, I call my Mom again while we're on the tram.

Me: "We're off the plane. Did you at least get Jo back in the car?"
Mom: "Yes. I have Jo, but Bear's still missing."
Me: "Well, just keep circling and we'll find Bear when we get to baggage claim."
Mom: "Well, I would IF THIS ASSHOLE WOULD GIVE ME MY G_DAMN TICKET!"
Me: "MOM! What are you talking about?!?"
Mom: "That jerk cop is taking his sweet time instead of just writing my damn ticket and letting me go."
Me: "What ticket?!"
Mom: "The one he's writing me because he's a jerk. God, what a jerk. I can't believe nobody's killed this guy! Isn't this Atlanta? People have guns here, right?"
Me: "Wow. Okay, we'll be there in a couple minutes."

My Mom never swears, and I'm pretty sure she was hanging out the window of the car while yelling about the cop, so we tried to get out there as fast as we could.

Tom: "What's going on?"
Me: "My Mom's probably going to be arrested for terrorism."

We get off the tram, and of course Bear is waiting right at the top of the escalator for us. We grab her, head out the door, and spend the next 20 minutes trying to find my mother and Jo. Turns out they've parked in the deck and are looking for us on the curb. The curb a full floor below us. We finally figure it out when Tom calls Mom's cell phone and asks, "Look up. Do you see sky or cement? Cement? Okay. We see sky. Don't move." After trudging with our luggage up four flights of stairs, and then back down one because Mom forgot what level they'd parked on, we were in the car. I elected to drive because my Mom couldn't afford another ticket that night, and asked for the story.

Mom let Bear out of the car to figure out what airline we were on, but Bear left her purse and cellphone in the car. So Mom called to tell her that the cop was making her move the car and instead heard the phone ringing right next to her. So, she sent Jo to the entrance where she'd dropped Bear to find her and bring her back to the car. (All the while letting every pedestrian known to man cross in front of her so as to give the illusion of not parking.) Jo couldn't find Bear, and the police officer didn't like the speed with which Mom was moving her car. He followed her and honked his horn over and over yelling "MOVE YOUR CAR!" Finally, he pulled up next to her and told her that if she didn't move right now, he'd give her a ticket.

Mom: "I can't move my car. My daughters are in there."
Cop: "I SAID MOVE YOUR CAR!"
Mom: "I SAID MY DAUGHTERS ARE IN THERE! I CAN'T LEAVE MY DAUGHTER! DO YOU HAVE KIDS??"
Cop: "MOVE THE CAR OR I'M WRITING YOU A TICKET"
Mom: "THEN I GUESS YOU'LL HAVE TO WRITE ME A TICKET!!"

So he goes to write my mother a ticket. She ended up with a $103 violation and is planning to drive all the way to Atlanta to fight it in court. She insists that she did move the car, and so was never technically parked. The ticket says that she repeatedly ignored the officers instructions, so we'll see what the judge thinks. :-p

We all promised not to tell Dad about it. The next day as she had one foot out the door to go to work, she turned to him and said, "Umm...I got a ticket last night. It's by the phone. Love you, bye." Nicely handled, Mom.

Vacation!

Tom and I went to Alabama last week on vacation. Alabama in the middle of July?!? What a great idea! Actually, it was a great idea because despite the fact that the week before we arrived, and my parents' pool looked like this:

At least by the time we arrived, it was looking more like this:

And before we left, it was perfect:
So, as you can probably tell, we had a blast. More to follow, including my Mom swearing at a cop, frog-flinging, and an Alabama lobster. In the meantime, feel free to peruse my Flickr album from the vacation :) Laters!

Commercial Success

Have you guys seen this commercial for Sylvania headlights? If you haven't, please take 30 seconds and indulge me.

I love this commercial. It's possibly the dumbest thing I've ever seen. To start:
"Now you see me"
"Now you don't."
Ummm...yes I do. You're right there. I can totally see you.

"Because the next time you see me, I might not be alone."
This makes me laugh every single time. Do you have that little regard for yourself?! It's going to be a big deal if I hit you with my car! Sure, it'll be worse if I hit a kid too, but hitting one person (even a lowly headlight salesman) is really going to screw up my day. Cripes.

So buy Sylvania headlights. Because if you don't, they'll keep making commercials.

And while we're on the subject of commercials, just a quick question:

Did they not budget for audio equipment? Is there no boom mic on that set? Oxi-Clean removes stains. We get it. No need to yell buddy.

This post wouldn't have happened if the book I was reading was better. Does "New York Times Bestseller" imply that all the people who purchased the book actually read it? I seriously doubt that everyone was this interested in the entire history of Russia as told through various characters with no apparent connection and chapters that are 200 pages long apiece.

Well, it's either Russka or more of those Joan Rivers Geico commercials. Book it is.

The Itsy Bitsy Spiders

*Disclaimer: Daniel, and anyone else with severe arachnophobia probably shouldn't read this.*

My apartment is overrun. I have no idea how this happened, I have no idea why this happened, I just know that it has to stop. For the past 2 days, I've been noticing a lot of spiders. And when I say "a lot" I mean, every single time I sit down on the couch I see at least one. I've lived in my apartment for almost a year now, and never have I had any insect problems. I don't think I've ever had a roach, last year there were no ants, minimal spider activity- I think Tom's had to get rid of 3 in a year tops.

This year, the insects are making up for it. For the past 2 weeks, there have been ants all over the place. I chalked it up to the rain- it rained almost every day for 2 weeks. Ants can't swim, I get it. Now that it's cleared up outside, and I vacuumed up all the rice-cake crumbs, I haven't seen any more. Did the ants lure the spiders? Don't spiders eat flies? I don't remember ants being featured anywhere in that song....of course, I haven't swallowed any flies lately either, so maybe that's not so applicable.

So, regardless of reasoning, the spiders are here. They're probably a millimeter in size...obviously little baby spiders. But here's the problem- there are like a million of them. Is there a GIANT spider in my house that is just laying offspring left and right? I haven't had any spiders until now- is it spider breeding season? Is there a giant male spider in addition to the obviously present female? How long have these things been gestating? Is there some busted-up egg sac in my apartment somewhere, because that would be totally disgusting. Did the Mom die when all the spiders hatched? (Isn't that what happened to that Charlotte spider?) Whatever. I'm trying not to worry about it because I don't know where they're coming from and I assume at some point they'll die from lack of other bugs to eat, or move out of the house into the wild of the suburbs.

Of course, it doesn't help that I get emails like this:

From: Tom@ilovemybuddy.org
To: Sam@spidervilleusa.com
re: omg the spiders

I'm not really worried. What I would do, is try and track down the source of the tiny spiders, and see if you can locate a small nest or something they're sprouting from. Then vacuum it up, and that should solve the problem.

NEST?!? These things nest?!? Also, I am not emptying a vacuum canister full of live spiders. Absolutely not going to happen. So, I'm sitting on the couch, holding a can of bug spray, jumping a mile everytime a strand of hair brushes my shoulder. And my foot itches. I assume it's a spider bite.

So, if I disappear for another month, it's probably a safe bet that I'm cocooned somewhere in the house. Send help.

Dressing for the Summer

Wow. It's obvious that I totally forgot I had a blog because there is no way I would have left evidence of my Star Trek nerd-dom up that long if I'd remembered. Cripes. I haven't blogged in forever because a. as mentioned earlier, I forgot I had a blog. and b. there is not a thing going on in my life. I work, I sit around, I read. That's about it. We're going on a couple of trips this summer, so that's exciting. Such exotic destinations as Cincinnatti, Ohio and Rural, Alabama. Woo. :) Actually, Cincinnatti will be a blast, and Alabama...well, I'll see my friends for a portion of the trip so that'll be fun. And there's no way that hanging out with my sisters won't be a blast. Of course, poor Tom will have to be in the company of my father for a week, so the trip will probably suck for him. And it's Alabama in July, so 1000 degree weather might not help. But we have a pool! I just keep stressing the pool. :-p

So, with that amazing lack of things to post about, let's get back to why this place was really created: for me to complain about things in a forum other than face to face, because honestly, then I just come off as a big whiner. I seem like that here too, but I can pretend I don't know you guys. (Although about 100% of my readership is probably people that actually do know me.) Anyways- on with the show.

I went dress shopping the other day. I need something to wear to Ohio, and I was attending a graduation, and it was a blazing bajillion degrees out, so I thought- how about a nice summer dress. A sundress. Whatever they're called. Something where my legs could be caressed by the breeze rather than encapsulated in denim (as they usually are.) So, I first hit up Old Navy. Why? It's a great question, and one I asked myself several times as I moved among the 12 year old teens in headsets in search of a dress. What is up with those headsets? The store is not that big, and even if it were, I've never seen those headsets used for good. If I need a price check, invariably they yell at the closest tween who then proceeds to walk slowly in circles for ten minutes and come back without an answer. I really wonder if those things are even hooked up to anything. Hopefully they're not using them to look cool, cause Tom has one for playing XBox live, and I can tell you- those things are unequivocally uncool. Nerd-alert. Seriously.

So, I'm wandering around and I see NONE of the dresses that the girls in the commercial were wearing. Shocker, right? The only dress that is remotely what I'm looking for actually has a nice fit...but of course, it's only available in off-white and when I put the dress on I basically become a column with hair. Because such is my skin tone. So, on to the next store. I hit up Target because I can shop and simultaneously obtain the Reese's peanut butter cups I so desperately need at this point in a shopping day. Seriously, shopping feels like crossing a desert to me. It's miserable and hot (for some inexplicable reason) and my hair gets messed up. I hate it. So, I get to Target, find a couple of dresses with cute prints, and decide to bite the bullet and try them on.

Herein lies the problem: I'm pretty thin, and I'm pretty tall. And based on everything television has taught me, I should be able to go to the store and wear whatever I want because everything is made for girls my size. Un-true. All the clothes this summer are pulled straight from the 80's. Remember the 80's? Shoulder pads? Giant t-shirts w/ leggings underneath? Huge sweaters and acid-wash jeans? It's all back. Well, I haven't seen any shoulder pads, but the aesthetic is back. It's all form-masking. Which could work to the advantage of some, but for me, everything is adding 20 pounds. Also everything's really short, which I'm sure is some sort of evil bid to make me wear leggings. Not gonna happen.

The next day I went to the mall and encountered the same problems. I went into one store specifically because the mannequin was wearing a dress I would've purchased. This is my favorite way to shop- someone is already wearing all the pieces of the outfit, I just have to get a salesperson to round them up for me, and I'm out. So, I walk in the store, go to the teenybopper in a headset, and ask for the dress in the window. "Well...I've been standing in this area (points at three racks in a sea of hundreds) and I haven't seen it. So, I'd look over there. (Gestures toward remainder of the store.)" Did she ask someone in the headset? No. Did she make any effort to find the dress? Of course not. Needless to say, I was in there a grand total of 10 minutes before giving up and wandering toward the food court for iced coffee.

Every store has the exact same styles, fabrics (a lot of which are miserable as well...why is rayon back?), and God help me 80's music blaring in the background. Which leads me to wonder: am I going to be relegated to wearing the same outfits until late 90's-early 00's clothing returns? I hate the stores where nothing but Strawberry Shortcake t-shirts are being purchased by kids who aren't old enough to know who the hell Strawberry Shortcake is, but I also have a panic attack when I'm standing in Macy's pawing through a rack with 4 women who are older than my mother. I need a happy medium.

Nudism is a thing, right?