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Sunday, June 26, 2011

My Mailbox

I’d like to start out by apologizing to my mailman (I will not use the gender-neutral “mail-person”. We’ve got actual issues to address and I refuse to waste my energy on modifying every instance of usage from the masculine to the unisex. When I hear things like “person power”, “fire person”, and “human kind”, it makes me angry we’re investing time better spent on figuring out female Viagra. Any sane-minded woman will agree.) Anyway, I’m sorry Mr. Mailman for not clearing my mailbox out more frequently. I do it about a third to half as often as I should, leaving it busting at the hinges and I’m guessing that doesn’t make your life any easier. But because I only make my way to box #702 fortnightly, it makes for an interesting compilation of items, worthy of bloggery. Today’s mail included:

1. My California License (Yay!): When the local grocery store refused to sell me a PBR tall boy because they “couldn’t verify a New York license”, I knew it was time. FYI it took 20 minutes, 2 store managers and a lot of dirty looks before they declined to sell me the damn thing. Wondering why in God’s name I would wait that long for 24 lousy ounces of beer? Ya, me too. Thanks to a lot of Bloggle food and an afternoon involving too much Coors Light and too little sunblock I’m a bit redder and a bit rounder than I’d prefer but it’s not the worst photo of me out there.


2. TIME magazine: In honesty I almost never read the whole thing but I've got a news recipe that mixes TIME, The Daily Show and “TODAY on NBC” (que the peacock and the ding, ding ding) and the result is my consumption of enough information to know what’s going on in the world without losing all faith in mankind (yes women and children and goldfish included, see above for clarification). Also, I really like being THAT girl that starts conversations with “I was reading this article in TIME…” because I’m not as narcissistic as the jackass who has to namedrop The New Yorker but I’m not the moron who’s trying to work People magazine into lunch chat either.


3. Some new ridiculously overpriced catologue that looks like Pottery Barn Kids and Restoration Hardware vomited their overpriced merchandise, painted it burnt sienna and raised the price five thousand percent. Seriously, $68 for a pillow sham? $728 for a tray table? Who is buying this crap?


4. About 14 sale papers: since I more or less shop at Trader Joe’s these are absolutely useless except for one item. I am constantly on the lookout for beer sales. Here’s a tip folks; your typical run-of-the-mill American beer (tap the rockies!) is on a good sale when the cost is fifty cents a beer or less. Which, by the way, is the same price-per-roll you should be paying for toilet paper, the 1,000 sheet kind. Just a couple pearls of wisdom for ya.


5. My Bloggle paycheck. Thanks Bloggle:) Actually it’s just a stub. It’s 2011 if you aren’t on direct deposit, 1999 called. You need to get with the program.


6. Bills: Goodbye Bloggle paycheck:(


7. Flyers from the county: Ok I get like a million mailers that update me on bridge work and drain work and road work. I thought the giant orange triangles were enough to let me know that’s still going on. Here’s a tip crises-level-in-debt California, quit wasting money sending us mailers about roadwork. It’s stupid and wasteful and we live in the year 2011 AND the heart of Silicon Valley. Build a website and call it a day!

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Things I Won't Get Around to Doing Next Weekend

As the weekend comes to a close I find myself relaxing for the evening, wrapping up the last few to-do's and planning for the week ahead. Ya, that's a dirty lie. Actually, I'm surveying my apartment for all the crap I didn't do but swore on the life of.. umm... a really nice handbag I own, that I would get around to dealing with. I have no idea how I manage to convince myself that a 48 hour period is ample time for every errand, chore and social engagement (ya I said it, social engagement, do you have a less formal, all encompassing phrase for bars, pools, brunch and... more bars? No? Ok then can it.) If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results than somebody needs to get me a bottle of those happy pills stat because I have the same conversation with myself every seven days... sometimes out-loud. Friday, 5pm: "Ok, I'm gonna hit the gym, head home, shower, get ready and go out". If I'm lucky, 2 of these things actually happen. Saturday involves a variety of lies I tell myself including "I'm going hiking today" or "I'll go check out the library". Also "I'll totally have 4 hours in the morning for volunteering". Typically Saturday consists of waking up 9ish, puttering around with a cup of coffee in one hand for about an hour and a half, another hour or so watching mindless television and deciding on a gym outfit (why this matters, I have no idea. I'm sweating in it, not speed dating). Assuming I do make into workout attire and manage to get myself out the door, I can guarantee you it is now noon, at the earliest. Post-workout takes a minimum of 3 hours because there's MORE puttering, MORE mindless tv, and half a dozen conversations with (sometimes) other people about what's going on for Saturday night. Assuming I practice moderation (negatory) I'm home by 1am and up before noon on Sunday sans hangover (10 percent chance). Sunday is (inaccurately) pegged as errands/laundry/organizing day, mostly because alternate universe me does these things. In the current universe we're in, these things all happened on the same day once. It was 1999 and we had guests coming from out of town.

So it's Sunday night and I've barely scratched the surface of that big bucket-o-things that need doing. Realistically I get that there will always be more to do than time to do it in, unless you're an extremely disinterested (read 'boring') person. But I still feel like a waste of life for not having crossed more off the list, so I've got a new approach. For next weekend, and all the weekends thereafter, I'm going to tally all the things that aren't going to get done. That way, if I do manage to accomplish a sliver of a minority of the items on the list, I'll feel accomplished and not guilty.

Side-note, please don't mind the un-vacuumed carpet, dirty dishes and empty refrigerator should you stop by. Also, I'm gonna need someone to plan Friday and Saturday night and tell me what to wear, and by "tell me what to wear" I mean go to the mall and buy me something to wear. Ahh, I feel less guilty and more accomplished already!