Archive | July, 2012

The Land Before Time MCIIVI: Never Enough Tree Stars

27 Jul

Hey guys!

Sometimes people ask me a simple question, and I have no idea how to answer. Stumped and confused, I fumble over words until I can change the subject.

The question, though worded differently each time, often has the same meaning:

Hey, what did you do [last night]/[last weekend]/[over the summer]/[during the two weeks you weren’t writing a blog post]?

If this question seems easy to you, it’s because you have a life. It’s because, unlike me, you went out and saw a movie, went to a party, or did anything worth talking about.

So what have it been doing these past two weeks?

Gaming. Playing Dragon Age: Origins, particularly.

This game does to me what the TARDIS does to Doctor Who or what a DeLorean does to Marty McFly.

You use it in the mid-after noon, then, suddenly, you look up and it’s the early morning… three days later and you’re surrounded by empty soda cans that you don’t fully remember drinking.

I’m in my early 20’s and– according to other people’s responses to “what did you do last night?”—this should be the time when I am making loads of bad life choices. Instead, I sit in my comfy chair and play through amazing plot structures and character interactions…

Lately, however, I haven’t been able to play because, in the same room that I’m in, my sister is watching the most annoying movie possible—OMG TREE STARS 😮

My youngest sister got our old VCR working and has been watching The Land Before Time MCVIII: There are Never Enough Tree Stars endlessly– and it is driving me insane.

I doubt there are many of y’all who have not, at some point, watched The Land Before Time, but for those of you who haven’t, here’s a recap:

The Land Before Time stars a little brontosaurus that calls himself “Little Foot”. Why? Because he’s a kid and, thus, has little feet. You would think that might present a problem, particularly when he grows up. It’d become very ironic. Don’t worry, though. As it turns out, Little Foot doesn’t age. Not a problem.

Little Foot has four friends with whom he gets into shenanigans.

There’s Ducky who looks nothing like a duck. She has a voice that is high pitched, annoying, and makes you want to punt her across a football field.

What kind of dinosaur is she? I dunno.

Not a duck.

She has a ‘brother’ named Spike who is about as close to being her actual brother as Spike (from Buffy the Vampire Slayer) is. Nevertheless, she drags him around on their adventures while he just sits there rolling his eyes. True story. He only ever rolls his eyes. Spike never speaks. Ever.

Then you have Cera, who is that kid who just kind of want to punch in the face—that kid on the playground who is loudly proclaiming,

“You better play with me and do what I say, or I won’t play with you anymore and I’ll tell my Dad and the heavens will reign down fire on you and your children and your children’s children.

Then, every time she has a plan, it’s a bad one. If Cera tells you to go left, don’t. You will get stuck in a tar pit. Eaten by a T-Rex. Fall off a cliff. Stuck in quick sand. Mugged.  Just sayin.

There’s also Petrie… he flies. I’m pretty sure that’s all he does.

This group of five spends all their time listening to what their parents say, then doing the exact opposite.

“Don’t go to the edge of the valley, kids. You’ll get eaten.”

Done.

“Stay away from T-Rex’s, kids. They’ll eat you.”

Done. It’s a good thing I taste so delicious!

Oh hey, and what is a ‘tree star’??

It’s a leaf. That’s all. It’s just a leaf.

I think might be going a little bit crazy.

Advertisements

Being Adult: Because I’m a Lady. That’s Why.

10 Jul

Hey y’all 😀
Happy Monday Tuesday? Yes.
I like titling things, and then giving them subtitles. It makes me happy. SO I’ve decided that since I have a lot of things to say about my transition from teenager-hood to adult-get-a-real-life-hood, that I’m going to label them ”Being Adult”. Maybe this will also give me a reason to use the ‘Categories’ function too. So fancy.

As a college student approaching graduation, I’ve been collecting advice about: 1) How To Be Financially Independent From Your Parents and 2) How To Be A Classy Lady.

In regards to the second point, the best advice that I’ve gotten had come from ‘The Aristocats’: ladies don’t start fights but they can finish them and ‘Because I’m a lady, that’s why’ is an appropriate response for any occasion.

From personal experience, though, I’ve figured out that, as a lady, I gotta start reading labels before I buy important stuff—like pads.

[Hey guys. I know you guys cover your ears and walk away every time a girl starts talking about ‘feminine supplies’. I know this. I have brothers who do the exact same thing. But chill out, yo, because I have a solution.

Every time you read ‘pad’ or whatever just replace the word with PANDA, in your mind. BAM. Problem solved. You’re welcome.
I’ll even place in some visual clues, because, if you’re like my brothers, you’ll forget…
…then I’ll end up stuck at work because you got caught up in a heated part of Half Life 2 and couldn’t stop until you reached the Auto Save. Not cool, man. Not cool.]

I mentioned in my last blog post that it is impossible to walk into a grocery store and just find one particular thing. A couple of weeks ago, that item was [PANDAS] pads.

I was hoping that this would be a quick trip in and out—with minimal human interaction.

However, I was in a Kroger that I wasn’t very familiar with.
I didn’t have a firm layout of the store, but I figure:

The [PANDAS] pads would be in the same isle as the other stuff for ladies, right? The isle with the fancy shampoo and soap and baby stuff.
When I got to the isle, low and behold, there are these huge, bright pink packs with a picture of a [PANDA] pad on the front.
As I take a pack off the shelf, though, I notice an old guy in the isle across from me and he is giving me the look of judgment. He has two different brands of toothpaste in his hands, and is clearly making the difficult choice between Crest and Colgate.

I respond with, “Because I’m a lady, that’s why!”—in my head, at least. Then I drop eye contact and walk away.

I have found the item in less than five minutes! Success!
This is how adults do things. Efficently. I know, because, at this point, I’m feeling like the most adult-y adult there ever was.

I go through the self-checkout like a boss.

Do you have a Kroger Card?

Hell yes, I do. Well, my parents do. Same-same.

Press the ‘Cash’ button if you’re using cash, and ‘Card’ if you’re using—

Cash. Like a boss.

Put you bills into the bill slot face up—

BAM. Done.

Collect excess cash out of the cash dispenser and coins out of the coin dispenser. Thank you for shopping at Kroger.

I collect my cash and my bag, snap the receipt out of the machine, and walk out of Kroger and into the sweet air of victory.

Then I got into my car…

Once I get into the car, I set the bag down next to me and out of the corner of my eye… I see something.

What I saw was the word ‘bladder’.

Oh @!!#%$^.

I take them out of the bag and read the label.

Pads, indeed. They were pads for ‘discreet bladder protection’ and ‘unexpected wetness’. Not normal pads. Could these even be used for… what I needed them for? Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know.

Pandas– for the woman on the go

I could go in, return them, and get what I need… but do I really want to explain this to someone?

Oh, hello, could I exchange these bladder protecting pads for some of these other pads. I didn’t read the labels… on purpose. Stop laughing.

No. I wasn’t going to back in there to explain this to some judgmental cashier.

I still needed [PANDAS] pads, though, so I went back in there ready to buy some proper [PANDAS] pads.

I avoid all the employees who may have seen me come through a few minutes ago, and eventually reach the same isle as before—and that old guy is still in the same isle across from me. Apparently, toothpaste isn’t the only trick decision he has to make today, as he holds both the off brand deodorant and Old Spice deodorant in his hands.

We make eye contact for a moment. He smirks—he knew exactly what was going down.

‘Ladies don’t start fights, but they can finish them’ rang in my head, and I was tempted to give this guy a round house kick to the face.
Instead, I pretend that he didn’t exist, and looked up and down that isle. It has shampoo, conditioner, gels, hair brushes, baby products, and, apparently, bladder [PANDAS] pads.

But there are none of the [PANDAS] pads that I need in this isle. But where the hell else would they be?

I walk up and down that isle five or six times. Not there.

Then I walk up and down the cosmetics section. Not there.

Then, I try the next isle over. This isle is labeled: ‘Paper Towels. Toilet Paper. Paper Plates. Cleaning Supplies. School Supplies.’ Surly, it has to be here, because the next isle over are ‘Boxed Dinners. Soups. Condiments.’

I begin walking down and, once I get mid-way through, I spot them.

Between the paper towels and pencil sharpeners are the [PANDAS] pads that I’m looking for. Finally.

I quickly head to the self-checkout, and, as that machine says ‘Thank you for shopping at Kroger’, I can’t help but think:

Kroger 2-2.

%d bloggers like this: