R.I.P. Dearly Missed

It began like any other Tuesday, but ended as the most devastating day of the week.

I was at work, finishing off the last spoonful of oatmeal from my trusty coffee mug. This was no ordinary coffee mug. My employer had graciously bestowed it upon me as a gift during my first week on the job. Since then, it has served me well as a reliable vessel for hot water, tea, soup, and the occasional serving of breakfast cereal.

I was walking back from the kitchen, freshly washed mug in hand. At my desk, I shook the mug to remove the lingering droplets of water, thoughts distracted by my next task. Suddenly, the mug slipped from my hand. My mouth silently formed a horrified “NO” as I watched my friend fall. A loud “DAMMIT!” erupted through the office as white ceramic scattered across the floor. I cried.

I had lost everything in a moment of carelessness. I paused and glanced around at my office mates, ready to apologize for my momentary indiscretion. No one looked up to witness the commotion. Phone conversations continued uninterrupted. I heard the casual typing of a nearby keyboard. Nobody cared.

I must be invisible. Invisible and mute. Feeling a huge wave of heartbreak and no one available to comfort me. People working all around me but I am alone in my grief.

I somberly knelt to scoop up the fragments of my fallen comrade. ‘Why me?’ I thought, ‘Why us?’ Our time together was abruptly cut short months after it began.

I slowly dropped the ceramic into the trashcan as I said my last goodbye.

Rest in pieces, little one.

I’m Too Hot to be Funny

I’m too hot to be funny. This has brought me great distress as an aspiring comedian.

Some of the funniest humor is self-deprecating. If you want people to laugh, make fun of yourself. People find it hilarious when you bond with them over the mean things that they’re thinking about you.

I recently learned that comedy is truth and pain. If you were born with a big forehead or creepily small hands, all you have to do is talk about how much of a freak you are. Then your audience will stop staring at you and start laughing at (with?) you.

Unfortunately, I was not born with free comedic material. My complementary genes, good health and reasonable fashion sense will always put me at a disadvantage. It’s just not fair. My good looks don’t cause me pain in life, but they are a huge handicap on stage.

Bling-red-prom-dress-2011 — “Laugh at Me”

StyleCheckup

Nobody wants to laugh at the hot girl. Picture this: a 5’3″ tall man walks on stage and asks to have his mike lowered. Hilarious. Look at how comically short he is.

Now picture this: A gorgeous 5’3″ woman walks on stage and asks to have her mike lowered. People get annoyed. Women think, “I can’t believe she’s not wearing heels!”

Another example: an obviously overweight woman walks onstage and asks a guy in the front row if he’s going to eat that last cookie. Mean laughter ensues. I walk on stage and ask the same question. Awkward silence. Judgment. Maybe a “boo” or two.

Why do people find such entertainment in others’ pain? Maybe I could complain that I get hit on too often. Is that funny?

Husband Training 101

As a newlywed, I have spent the last year trying to housetrain my husband. Men think differently than women do. You’ve heard this before, but you don’t fully know this until you live with a man. I’m still in the experimentation phase with my husband, but I want to pass along some of what I have figured out so far to those less experienced wives out there on the brink of desperation.

Your husband will always have your best interests at heart, and he will try to make you happy, but sometimes he will forget the things you asked him to do or he just will not understand the things that annoy you. This is where training is needed.

You cannot train by nagging, yelling, crying, or withholding sex. These methods foster more resentment and frustration *for you* than understanding *for him.*

Some people will tell you that using positive reinforcement is the best way to train a man. I say, eh… doesn’t he have to do something right first in order for this method to work? I do not have time to sit around and wait for the moment when I can applaud my husband for wiping the crumbs off of the kitchen counter after he makes himself a sandwich. It is not going to happen.

One husband training technique that does work is posting signs around the house.

For Example:

Cleanliness

If your husband doesn’t understand what to do with his clothes after he wears them, put this sign on the laundry basket:

…And put this sign everywhere else:

Etiquette

Here’s a lifesaver for the living room, especially if you’re entertaining guests:

Organization

Are you tired of finding the TV remote in the refrigerator? Go ahead and post this sign in the kitchen where he can see it:

Everything Else

You may be thinking, ‘I don’t have enough time to make a bunch of specific signs!” If your husband is completely clueless, here is a versatile option that will apply to a myriad of situations:

Or, if you get really frustrated, this should *hopefully* get your message across:

Disclaimer: Results may vary.

Exploit Your Birthday

I celebrated my birthday this past weekend! Birthdays are awesome because they’re the one time of year when you can be selfish, egotistical, and unreasonable at the expense of your friends and family. The victims around you cannot pass judgment on you or your behavior. The harshest thing they can say to you is a bitter “I’ll be sure to return the favor on my birthday.”

Acting absurd on your birthday is even superior to making unreasonable demands while planning your wedding. If you have even one temper tantrum in preparation of your special day, you will quickly be branded a “bride-zilla” or “groom-zilla.” Suddenly, every opinion or misgiving you have is met with an eye-roll, chuckle, or simply a knowing look exchanged among your audience.

Birthdays are different. Every year, once a year you have the right to be upset over a myriad of “minor” offenses:

Bad gifts or no gifts.
Calling too late or not calling at all.
Forgetting your birthday.
Singing the “happy birthday” song.
Not singing the “happy birthday” song.

And God forbid your significant other is not the first person to write on your Facebook wall.

Your birthday is the only time of year when you can walk up to complete strangers and demand appreciation. You can interrupt ongoing conversations with “Today is my birthday!” And if the person in front of you in the Customer Service line at Kmart doesn’t immediately turn around, smile and enthusiastically wish that you have the time of your life, then *they’re* the weirdo.

‘What the hell? Why didn’t he wish me happy birthday?’ is a justified thought.

I took full advantage of this phenomenon last weekend, responding to any protests with a simple “It’s my birthday weekend!” As a result, I had a pretty amazing birthday. I had breakfast in bed, a free personal chauffeur, great food, drinks, & lots of laughs.

Even my younger brother cheerfully advising me that I’m just another year closer to 30 couldn’t bring me down.

I Stopped Paying My Bills and it’s Awesome

Paying bills sucks! So I stopped paying them. Now I have more money to buy wine.

I used to go through the daily ritual of opening mail and throwing it down in disappointment upon learning that So-and-So wants $$$ by XX Date. Now I just drop everything in the shredder. The grinding sound of a bill collector’s dreams going up in smoke is liberating.

Contrary to popular belief, the world doesn’t end when you don’t pay your bills. I stamped my unopened power bill “Return to Sender” and nothing bad happened. Now instead of using those hot ceiling lamps at night, I light a candle. It’s a cool tribute to the middle ages.

Before, I would have to wait for my ice cream to reach that perfect half melted stage before I ate it because the coldness was a shock to my sensitive teeth. Now when I open the freezer, my ice cream is at the perfect temperature.

Television used to be such a distraction, especially during football season. Now that we no longer have cable, my husband has no choice but to talk to me.

Student loans, shmudent loans. If the Gov’ment wanted that money back they’d have given me a higher paying job. Sheeit.

I am still paying rent, but only because I enjoy living in a house. But if someone let me move in with them I’d tell my landlord to kiss my ass too.

So to all those Suckas out there still giving your money away for no apparent reason:
Stop paying your bills.