Potty Etiquette

Why do people feel it is appropriate to have a conversation through the bathroom stall walls? I feel there is a certain amount of bathroom etiquette that everyone should follow. I am one of those people that would actually like to be ignored while in the bathroom, but I know that everybody is not like me. I am very uncomfortable when a person starts, NOT continues, but starts a conversation with you while you using the bathroom. “It’s such a beautiful day out today? Do you know what the weather is going to be like over the weekend? What are you plans?”
How do you avoid this? You cannot be rude and refuse to answer because they will just repeat LOUDER what they originally said. So I push through my discomfort and quietly answer the questions being asked. It does make me speed up and run as fast as I can OUT of the bathroom.

Candy! Honey! How Many Times Have I Told You?!

Okay, so Jennie and I have a favorite family. They are the Clacks. Jennie and I do our best to try to be part of the family, whether they want us or not. They are loads of fun. There are 9 kids in the family, and I can correctly identify all of them at this point. They have super fun parties at their house (like the Oscars party where I won the “Yes, you are a hippie” award. Thank you, thank you). And, one of the things that enhances their coolness factor: half of them have awesome red hair (ranging from bright red to strawberry blonde).
Jennie L O V E S their hair and often walks up to whatever Clack is closest to her, puts her head really close to theirs, and says to me, “Christy, how do I get this color?”
So, last night, we were hanging out with (almost all of the) Clack ladies, and Jennie did this to Cindy’s wonderful dark red hair. And Cindy said to her, “You can drag me into a salon, and show them my hair, but they’re just going to say to you ‘CANDY! HONEY! How many times have I told you?! You can’t get that color from a bottle!!” Apparently, this has been done to Cindy before, and the woman (Candy), got that response from her hairdresser/husband.
Well, Jennie and I were in hysterics at that story. Do not be surprised when we bust out with “Candy! Honey! …” when we’re trying to emphasize a point.

Subway Perks

Everybody knows that Subway is known for helping overweight people lose weight, but did you know that employees will also pay you compliments in exchange for your money. If I were telling this story in person I would do a reenactment; but since it is through my blog, I will restate the conversation accurately.
Subway employee: What can I get for you?
Me: I would like a Chicken Bacon Ranch
Blah, Blah, Blah I will skip the boring part.
The subway employee looks at me with persistent eyes.
Subway employee: I like your earrings.
Me: Thanks, the bigger the better!
Subway employee: Yeah, they’re PIMP.
Me (looking strangely at him): Thanks, they are new…
Subway employee: I just had to say something, because they are awesome.

I proceeded to scold my fashionista sister for not having given me a compliment the ENTIRE day, I had to go to Subway to get a compliment about my new earrings!
As I was retelling this story to Christy, she intensely listened as I offered his response to my comment “the Bigger the better.” Not having realized my horrible use of the expression, she could NOT believe that he didn’t ask me to go into the back room with him. LESSON LEARNED. Also, this just proves how innocent I really am. So….the next time you are feeling down about your appearance, visit your local Subway!

All you can eat. And eat. And eat.

Anyone that knows me won’t be surprised to learn that I love Chinese Buffets with all of my heart. There are oh-so-many reasons for this affection.

•It is all of the food that I never allow myself to eat, all in one room.
•Self-serve ice cream
•It is all-you-can-eat of said food.
•I end up having about three weeks worth of food for like $7.
•Self-serve ice cream
•I especially like the ones with the Mongolian Barbecue – because my dad used to own a Mongolian bbq restaurant. Brings back memories, and the food is yummyummyummy.
•If you’re not sure about something, try it at a Chinese Buffet! What’s the worst that could happen?! (Don’t answer that).
•Self-serve ice cream
•I will not be judged at a Chinese Buffet when I go up for fourths or fifths. I am usually one of the skinniest people in the place.
•I hear the sushi is actually not bad at those places.
•Self-serve ice cream.
•Even Dylan and Cassie find something they like there. And if the first plate-ful fails, we just keep on trying…

I go to the Chinese Buffets about once a year, and I’m thinking it’s time to go. Who’s in?

A rose by any other name...

I love coming up with nicknames for people. Granted, a lot of my nicknames are not very creative (Beardy has a beard, Sweaty Blue Shirt was wearing a blue shirt and was sweaty, Joe Schmo is a tool). But some of the nicknames are well thought out.
Loggins, for example, got her nickname when she exhibited an abnormal amount of enthusiasm over the song “Lucille” by Kenny Rogers at karaoke night. Kenny Rogers lead to Kenny Loggins (whom Loggins had never heard of – the shame!), and there you have it. Perfect for her: Loggins.
I don’t actually refer to Jennie by any nickname, unfortunately, but there are a few that come to mind. I used to say her nickname was Hot Pocket. It started because she used to bring Hot Pockets for lunch every once in awhile, but that’s not even what I think of when I (seldomly) call her by that name. Hot Pocket connotes a cute, bright person, and that’s what Jennie is!
I also like to refer to her as Silence of the Glam. The reasons are two-fold:
1. She is a glam girl.
2. The girl has a problem with the phone. She will deny this (I promise you – there will be a comment), but half the time that I call her, I only know that she has answered because I realize that the ringing has stopped. This is how a typical conversation between me and Silence of the Glam goes:

Phone: Ring! Ring! …..
Glam: ….
Me: ….HELLO?
Glam: I said hello.
Me: Put your mouth on the phone.
Glam: It was! You have a problem hearing!
(Okay – this is true, but that’s for another blog posting, and my hearing is NOT the problem.)
Me: You need to speak into the phone when you’re talking on it.
Glam: I am!

Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. Those of you who have spoken to Jennie on the phone have inevitably run into Silence of the Glam.
I don’t really have a nickname for Jog (I mean, I call her Jog in the blog, but that’s really just an alias, to protect her innocence.). I'll have to think of something.
Last thing: I love to call people “punk”. It’s not really a nickname, it’s just a thing I call people. For some reason, it just tickles me to sound like an 80-year-old woman sometimes. So I like to say things like, “Those punk kids were up to no good on the corner, smoking the marijuana cigarettes and wearing dungarees with holes in ‘em!”

Bye Zack! Zack?? BYE!!!!

As many of you know, I have been babysitting at church lately to make some extra money. I have been babysitting for a long time and one thing I have observed, and noticed A LOT lately, is the “I miss my Mommy syndrome.” Some children have a harder time leaving their mom or dad for the 2 hours I have them, but the problem isn’t with the clingy child. Let me set up a scenario for you.
The parent brings the child into the church classroom. The child whines “No Mommy, NOOOO” The parent makes an attempt to ease the child into a comfortable state (well…comfortable enough for them to be able to leave the classroom). I finally distract the child with a toy or another friend. The parent seems to be “sneaking” out of the classroom, when ALL OF A SUDDEN “Bye Zack! Zack?? BYE!!!” My immediate response is “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
I believe the parent does this for one of two reasons:
1. He/She wants to avoid the child spiraling into hysteria when they realize their parent is no longer in the room. They feel it would be better to risk having them cry as they leave for the good of the situation. Even though they are WRONG, at least they have good intentions.
2. He/She feel LOVED when the child screams and cries for them as they leave. They are happy that the child feels like they cannot be away from their parent for two seconds without losing all function. Now this is a HUGE problem.
The problem with the second reason is the parent is thinking only of themselves and their feelings, instead of their child’s temporary happiness. OH WELL…..I know that this will never change, so I guess I will have to deal.

If you are a Middle child, please stand up!

I am a middle child, and before you ask…YES I am the TYPICAL middle child. Typical=SEX, DRUGS and ROCK n ROLL. Just kidding, just kidding. I only exhibit rebellion in small forms. I usually never listen to what “wiser people" may share, I pretty much want to figure things out on my own. I feel that it is a very good thing that I want to have my own experiences, but of course with that comes consequences for my actions. I inevitably know that what I decided to do (much to the dismay of my family) is probably not the best thing for me. However, some of my impulses prove to be rewarding and beneficial to the “making of a superstar.” I impulsively decided to go to Europe as a teenager (with my school of course). I also followed with a study abroad trip to Italy in my college years. Of course bad decisions were made along the way, but I would not trade those experiences for anything. I am also infamous for making poor relationship choices, but I am discovering that because of those choices I have started to learn a lot about myself. I have started to make myself the person I want to be, and it was because of all of my experiences combined. I know I will inevitably make bad decisions throughout my life, but I am pretty sure that God will use those experiences to make me a better person. I am excited to see where life takes me in the future, I have a feeling it will be pretty great!

Happiness is Hippies

If you ever saw me on the street and wondered to yourself, “Who is that hippie walking down the street?” you would …be wondering that about someone other than me.
I do not look like a hippie, and yet I call myself a hippie all the time. Why? I’m so glad you asked.
I enjoy the whole peace & love way of life of hippies. And, when I remember to fix my attitude, I try my hardest to be a peaceful and loving person. I am shocked (SHOCKED!) by gratuitous violence and gore. I want to faint at the merest suggestion of pain. I want to think about bluebirds and happy songs all day long. And mostly, I want to enjoy a nice, cold beer at Smiley’s. That’s all I want. And it’s all I want for others, too!
If I could make my own clothes, I would. But for now, I settle for discovering awesome gems for 99¢ lb. at the Goodwill. And yet, I still don’t look hippie. Although, if there’s a skirt with butterflies on it, I own it. That’s kind of hippie.
I actually feel like hippie-ness goes hand in hand with my faith as a Christian (well, at least, the aspects of hippie-ness that I’m choosing). In fact, in 2 Peter, we are told to complement our basic faith with: good character, spiritual understanding, alert discipline, passionate patience (yikes! That one is hard for me), reverent wonder, warm friendliness and generous love.
Isn’t it sad to think that someone who embodied all of these qualities might be more closely identified as a hippie than a Christian in today’s society?

Playing Mind Tricks

Last night, I told my brother about a problem I’m having with the new TV show Lie to Me. I like the show, but my issue is that I watch Law & Order directly after it, and Lie to Me has so infiltrated my mind that during Law & Order, all I’m doing is waiting for the cops to point out the lies of the criminals.
So my brother and I started talking about how some things can really mess with your mind this way. For example, we both read this (awesome) book called Replay, where the main character lives his life over and over (kind of like Groundhog Day). After finishing the book, we talked about how we both started making decisions more confidently (and…carelessly) because, well, if it was the wrong decision, we could redo it later. Which is not real life.
So I told my brother about how when I was playing Mob Wars on facebook, I started having these crazy thoughts about money in real life. Like this: My bank account is looking slim. I’ll just mug a few people. Or: If I could only get my hands on a semi-automatic weapon, I could move on to car-jacking. Meanwhile, as soon as we realize we are thinking these thoughts and why, we swoop back down to reality.
But my brother’s example takes the cake. One day, after playing Grand Theft Auto for like 3 hours straight, he had to run out to the post office. He was sitting at a red light, and had completely plotted how to get through the red light (hop the curb, race through the parking lot – and if he hits a few cars then just push them out of the way. If the cops chase him, then just speed away or … better yet, smash the cop cars), when he realized what he was doing and came back to his senses.
You guys, we’re normal people and we get these crazy thoughts. What happens when lunatics play these games or watch these movies?!

Are you having a bad hair day?!

My grandmother always tells me a certain “funny” story while reminiscing about when I was a child. The story takes place back in the late 80’s. We were riding in the car, this is a childhood memory I can actually remember (Now that does NOT happen often-I have like Childhood Amnesia or something), and I looked directly at my grandmother’s hands and said “You’re not old, Grandma, JUST your hands!” She proceeded to laugh hysterically, mostly because it was quite “out of the blue.” I can remember thinking, “Nothing on my grandmother looks old, but everybody says she is old, only her hands look OLD.” Needless to say, my grandmother LOVES that story and makes sure to tell it to me EVERYTIME we see each other.
Another story she likes to drudge up, happened later on in my awkward teen years. My grandmother was bugging me about wearing a hat. She couldn’t figure out why I was wearing one and she wanted me to take it off. I proceeded to YELL “GRANDMA, I AM HAVING A BAD HAIR DAY, LEAVE ME ALONE.” Much to my dismay, she laughed and laughed. Now EVERYTIME I see her she asks me, “Are you having a bad hair day?”

Getting Ready for the Winter Olympics

A long time ago, back when Anjajog (Jog, for short) worked with Jennie and me, Jog and I had these amazing and brilliant conversations about literature, current events and history. Brilliant, I tell you! In one of these (brilliant) conversations, Jog told me about her plan to train and try out for the Olympics in one of the following categories:
•Canoeing, •Archery, •Synchronized Swimming, •Table Tennis, •Water Polo, •Submachine Gun Competition, •Cowboy Action Shooting, •Badminton, •Wheel Chair Racing
I was enthusiastic, to say the least. I mean, Submachine Gun Competition? Well, I’m against that one, being a hippie and all. Here are the things that Jog would not do well in:
Table Tennis – those guys are hard core. It’s like we’re watching it on fast forward!
Water Polo – too dangerous. See the famous Blood in the Water controversy. Also, just read about that controversy – it’s awesome.
Canoeing – Jog would get lost and go over a waterfall, which I illustrated to her in a Graffiti message on Facebook. Nothing against her or her sense of direction. It’s just how it would go down.
Submachine Gun Competition – the description says it all. Jog and/or spectators would be seriously maimed (at least!).
And we both decided that Jog is cooler than Badminton, so that’s out.
She probably wouldn’t be allowed to participate in the Wheel Chair Racing one, but even if she could, Jog would have no chance against people that …actually use a wheel chair (no offense, Jog).
So that leaves… what? Synchronized Swimming and Cowboy Action Shooting? Well, duh. Cowboy Action Shooting, it is.
Seeing this list of events leads me to this question: Why isn’t Cowboy Action Shooting televised?

Oh where, Oh where did clean TV go?

I would like to pose a question for you to think about: when did the shows on television become equivalent to HBO? I have been trying to pinpoint a certain moment in time when the tables turned and nudity/sex was “allowed” to be shown on TV. Now of course, Soap operas have ALWAYS been the exception to the rule. Many years ago (more than I care to remember), I was watching an episode of NYPD Blue when BOOM! Ricky Schroeder’s bum was plastered all over the TV screen. RICKY SCHROEDER?! Maybe that was the exact moment or maybe it happened when Janet Jackson showed the whole world her breast.
Nonetheless, I found myself watching a movie on lifetime yesterday. Yeah, yeah before you say anything…..I KNOW. Anyways….the movie was about this TEENAGE girl who was having an affair with her stepfather. Now, I am already NOT ok with that, but then they had to make it worse. Her love interest was ALEC BALDWIN. This young teenage girl was supposed to find ALEC BALDWIN attractive?! Since when was he attractive to anyone. EWWWW….It was bizarre! In the end, they decided to kill his wife to “be together.” The obvious twist, she turns him in and makes him take the fall for the whole thing. All is fair in love and war, I guess.

January is a White Rabbit

I have been blessed with a neurological phenomenon / crazy awesome organizational tool known as synesthesia. In particular, I have spatial synesthesia which causes me to view time as an actual 3D image in my mind. When people mention days of the week, months or years, I see a timeline in my head for each of these measures of time.
My years are split into decades with the 80’s being closer to my left hand (in front of me) and the 2000’s being off to the right, almost as though I haven’t reached them yet.
My weeks are one timeline, Sunday through Saturday. Saturday does not connect around to Sunday. At the beginning of each week, I just start a new timeline. Each day consists of a “pocket” in which I place my duties for the day. For example, tonight I have to meet with Katie, so Monday’s pocket is filled. Unfortunately for me, the pockets are not transparent, so a lot of the time I know I have something to do on a particular day, because the pocket is full, but I can’t for the life of me remember what it is.
The month timeline is the most interesting to people. My months arch, with December and January at the tallest peak, and the summer months at the lowest. As autumn begins, the months curve up. Spring curves down. In addition to the curve, my months have colors. January is white. December is a cold blue (but Christmas is, of course, red & green). March is red, like a clay court. April is a light spring blue, but my birthday (the 17th) is yellow.
There are other, super cool, forms of synesthesia, where people attribute colors to words, smells to music or people, or personalities to letters of the alphabet. I know of one person who has shapes for each of her months, and yes… for her, January is a white rabbit.
I didn’t realize that the way I saw things was different than the way others (don’t) see things until about a year ago. It’s interesting, huh? We can think one thing is totally normal until someone points it out to us that it’s not. Something to think about.

Privacy, PLEASE?

So I work in a cubicle. It is very Office Space, if you know what I mean? However, I have little privacy. Instead of a small opening, I have a very LARGE opening into my cubicle. I also work in a main hallway with a lot of foot traffic, so as a result EVERYONE can see EVERYTHING I do. I must also preface this story by saying, my computer screen is GINORMUS. So one day while clipping art and earning my buck, I hear (quite loudly), “Those are some BIIIIIGGGG Biscuits!” My first thought was, “HELLO HR, here we come!” My second thought was….well….Actually that was my only thought. Granted I was clipping a can of biscuits, but um……can you say Sexual Harassment?!

Jennie Says the Darndest Things!

One of the benefits of being friends with Jennie is being constantly entertained by the crazy things that come out of her mouth. What makes these statements so funny is that Jennie seems to not even realize the hilarity at the moment; she just continues with her story or the conversation.
I don’t even think I need to give any background on these quotes. They are funny as is. Any of you who have experienced a Jennie-ism understands.

• "Oh, and by the way, I saw some guy and his dog making out on the way to work this morning."
• (while watching tennis with me last year) "PLAY BETTER! WIN! And SHAVE!"
(Me: I'm not sure I want you to come watch tennis anymore.)
• "Is that elderly lady in the BMW behind us also a race car driver? Because she is on my ass."
•"Come on, Belks! Can we have some middle ground here? Either I can look like an old hag or a prostitute."
•”She is a hundred and two, Christy. ONE HUNDRED AND TWO years old. I pray the Lord takes me home by that point!”

Oh, these are just the ones I can remember. Jennie keeps me laughing, though. Anytime someone’s feeling bad, Jennie can brighten the day with her rendition of “Blue Skies”. It always makes me smile!

Bonus quote: This one is from Anjajog and cracks me up every time I think about it. Also, because the person speaking to Anjajog had absolutely NO reaction. Even better.
Person #1: So just connect to the printer, and it’ll work. The printer is called BIG GUN.
Anjajog: But that’s my nickname!
☺

Grease or not to Grease

So Christy and I have been volunteering at the Channel lately. It is a Christian music venue in Greenville. You should check it out, they have some great shows www.myspace.com/thechannelvenue. We have made a few observations while working there, so here are some of them.
Have you ever noticed that guys in bands are somewhat greasy? A large portion of them are “good greasy.” So you ask, how can greasy be good?” Most of the time, the greasy hair is due to pomade. The occasional band member assumes the grease is “natural”, shall we say? This is when the grease goes bad. It is a thin line, a very thin line.
So remember fellas: Good grease=excessive amounts of pomade. Bad Grease=not bathing for 2 weeks.
Another observation we have made, Guys in bands are hot. It doesn’t actually matter what they look like. Their hotness goes up like 80% when they have a guitar strapped around their neck. There is the occasional “pretty-boy” who is trying to look hot, but the others pretty much are without trying. Why this occurs is a mystery to me…..

This Band is Bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S!

The name "Banana Copenhagen" came from a band that Jennie and I formed not too long ago. It’s an “all percussion, all the time” kind of band. It all began like this:
One day, when I was perusing the Internet, I found myself staring at a list of so-called bands. But not only had I never heard of ANY of the bands listed, but they just did not seem like real names. It looked like they were groups of 2 or 3 words thrown together. After asking our local band guru (we’ll call him…. bAnDRian) who confirmed that these were, in fact, real bands, Jennie and I decided to come up with some band names. Jennie, by the way, is awesome at this. Here are a few band names she came up with: Towards Forever, Never a Fool, Twice Removed, Tellers Ball, Tracing Daylight, Training Orange, So Forget You, Village Gnome, Black Together.
Y’all, this is a fun game! Try it sometime. Here are mine: Bicycle Amore, 3 Cheese Flier, Boomerang Slack, Elvis Right Now, Fiction Loss and Life, Innumerable Circumstances, Revellers in Deceit.
Anyway, Banana Copenhagen is our percussion band. And it’s not that it’s an “imaginary” band or “in our heads”; it’s just that we haven’t booked any gigs yet. We play the triangle, drums and tambourine - so if you hear of anyone that needs something like this, let us know and we'll start practicing.
Side note: Royal Copenhagen (pronounced cope-n-HAH-gyn) is an amazing ice cream shop in Australia that bakes homemade waffle cones all day that call out to me.
So now you know.