Monday, November 25, 2013

Notes to Mother Nature

I'm all about whimsy. I love the whimsy. Bet you didn't know that I write a letter to Santa every year. (It's as good for the soul as chicken soup.) And I write the occasional note to Mother Nature as well. I cc'd them to the blog this time.

Friday evening, November 22

Dear Mother Nature, 
Great job on the cold front. I'm sure most of West Texas is complaining but I love the cold. Doesn't hurt that I got off work early, too. I'm home safe and sound now, so do your thing this weekend, sister.

Your friend, 

Saturday, November 23

Dear Mother Nature,
You are working overtime, huh? Keep up the good work, I've got my fleece blanket handy. 

Your friend, 

Sunday, November 24

Dear Mother Nature,
Please do whatever you need to do to get me a snow day tomorrow. A heavy layer of frost might do the trick. 

Your friend, 

Monday, November 25

Dear Mother F,
You aren't funny. You know full well that I was not referring to finding a new bunch of gray hairs this morning when I talked about a "heavy layer of frost."

Watch your back.

Friday, November 22, 2013

Guest picking on Football, not noses.

I may have mentioned that I am a big college football fan. Maybe once or twice. So, it's no surprise that I read the ESPN Big 12 Blog. For those of you who don't know what an ESPN Big 12 Blog is, I'm sad for you. But to explain, on a trio of writers do stories about the Big 12 conference everyday during football season. I read it faithfully. Some women Pinterest, I ESPN. What can I say? (And yes, I just used ESPN as a verb. Deal with it.)

Anyway, every week one of the guys (Jake Trotter) does his predictions for that week's games and invites a guest picker to make their picks. It's a bragging-rights contest to see who can predict the game outcomes better: the pro or the guest.

After various years of being passed over and not being picked to be the picker, I got picked. (No pecks of pickled peppers involved. Or noses. There will be no nose picking.) Or if you prefer a literary reference over my kick-ass alliteration,  I, like Harry Potter, am the Chosen One. I GET TO BE THE GUEST PICKER FOR WEEK 14'S GAMES! You know what that means? It means that A) I am so freaking stoked I can barely stop giggling, B) I have a valid excuse for watching all the football I plan to watch this weekend during Week 13, and C) I have the potential to seriously humiliate myself in front of a national online audience. Wow, when I put it like that, it's pretty much just an average Shelley weekend. NBD.

Friday, November 15, 2013

Sticky songs

My mental jukebox tends to get stuck on repeat. Almost every day I get a song in my head that clings there like gum on a shoe. I started keeping track of the songs. I should probably have some kind of mental health professional interpret the list for me. But then, I'm not really sure I want to know. 

In case you're wondering, these are the "sticky songs" that I thought to write down over the last few weeks, starting with today and going backward. 

  • Andrews High School Fight Song - including lyrics that most people don't know exist
  • Royals by Lorde ("you can call me green bean")
  • Hawaii 5-0 theme song (as played by the Permian High School band. This is a regular. It comes up 2 or 3 times a month in the mental jukebox shuffle.)
  • Feelin' 22 by Taylor Swift (don't even like this song, but we have a great football player here at Tech. His # gets called alot by announcers during the games.)
  • Roxanne (the Eddie Murphy version)
  • Waka Waka by Shakira from the 2010 World Cup (the Spanish version)

With the exception of Jessie's Girl, these are even in the top 100 of my all-time favorite songs, so why do they stay with me? Again, I'm not sure I want to know. 

So, what are your sticky songs?

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

I hate mixed're not funny, CVS

I'm a loyal CVS shopper. (And by "loyal" I mean that I shop there because CVS is literally across the street from my apartment.) Any loyal CVS customer knows that if you use their Extra Care card, they give you coupons. Normally, the coupons are borderline insulting: buy-one-get-one-free deodorant, or $5 off non-prescription reading classes, 10% off joint pain relief, etc... Today, they were not only insulting, but sending me mixed messages. I might have to petition for a Walgreens to be built in my neighborhood.

Thursday, November 7, 2013

When you've got a dirty mind, there's never a dull conversation

Earlier this week, I thought that I might be The Terminator, but I’ve figured out that I’m really just a 12-year-old boy.  Or, more specifically, that I’m about as mature as a 12-year-old boy.  See, I’m THAT friend, the kind that everyone has, the one that can hear something completely innocuous and turn it into something NQSFW (not quite safe for work) or NIWMMTH (nothing I want my mother to hear). But I can’t help it. I do it reflexively. I do it gleefully. I do it with gusto. (Even now I’m snickering because “I do it.”) And last week, all the girls in the office joined in with me. (Joined me in being immature, not in “doing it”. See, it’s contagious.) It was a group exercise in enjoying awkward moments.

It all started innocently enough. Jessica wore some new boots to work one day and I complimented her on them. One of the other girls told Jessica to watch out or I might attack her and steal those boots right off her feet. (At this point, despite talk of theft and assault, it was still just a normal conversation for the office.) I pointed out it wouldn’t be worth it for me to steal Jessica’s boots because my calves are too big, so they probably wouldn’t fit. And that’s when Jessica announced, “They might. I had to get the extra-wide shaft.”

“EXTRA-WIDE SHAFT” you say? That’s the best opportunity for a double-entendre zinger I’ve had in a long time, but before I could get it out, the other girls started talking about other innocent things that sound super vulgar. I’m pretty sure I nearly had an aneurysm from holding back all the super-inappropriate things and immature giggling that conversation was creating for me.  

After Jessica’s “extra-wide shaft” and a couple examples from the others, I shared the awkward lecture that my orthodontist shared with me on the first visit to his office. “I’m going to give you a mouthpiece to wear to bed each night. We have to train your tongue to behave properly when you swallow.”  The grown-up part of my brain registered the medical purpose of that statement. The preteen boy part of my brain was practically doing cartwheels. In a moment of self-control I never would have thought I have, I just nodded my head. That’s right, the girl who makes Craigslist pervs uncomfortable stayed silent.

As uncomfortably awesome as my orthodontist story was though, I didn’t have the winning phrase that day. It turns out that Olivia, who is taking Chemistry this semester, has a piece of equipment they use in the lab that is called a “stop cock” and for the stop cock to work properly, it has to be lubricated. It’s a damn good thing I didn’t need Chemistry for my degree; I wouldn't have lasted a minute.

At least for me.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

I might possibly be the Terminator

I had an epiphany this morning on the way to work. As I was playing life-size Frogger trying not to run over idiot students who walk out into the street without looking, I realized (for the eleventy billionth time) that I am NOT a morning person. But I'm not really a late-night person either. 

Also not:

a coffee person 
an outdoorsy person  
a kid person

In fact, I might not be a person at all. Wrap your head around that.