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Posts Tagged ‘Trish (the human)’

Dear MTV Programming Honchos:

I was sick for days, but now I’m cured. You get the credit.

Without you, I moved slowly through the five stages of illness (yep, just like the stages of grief).

Denial
My throat is not sore. I’ve just been running my mouth too much.

Anger
I refuse to get sick.

Bargaining
Please, I can’t get sick right now. I have too much to do. I’ll take NyQuil tonight and be fine tomorrow.

Depression
Why now? Why me?

Acceptance
This is where you come in. I cancelled all plans and did what I should have done in the beginning: Curl up on the couch and binge-watch “Jersey Shore: Family Vacation.”

Yes, y’all: Almost 10 years since the debut of “Jersey Shore,” but some things haven’t changed (including Pauly D‘s hair).

I’m your target audience. If it’s reality TV, I’ll watch it. As you know.

In case you gave the green light but stopped paying attention (and shame on you, if you did), let me recap my favorite episode of the marathon:

Ronnie was grinding on slop tarts all night, but in a 2018 development, there is Instagram evidence. His girlfriend isn’t answering the phone. He assumes she is pissed off at him. He finally gets her on the duck.She hasn’t seen the photos/videos and isn’t upset. He instigates a fight. The rest of the guys can’t believe it.

Then they act it out in the interview room like The Roots do “The Bachelor.

I’m on the edge of the couch, phlegm forgotten: Will they work it out? We’ll see when she comes to visit.

In the next episode, Deena crashes guys’ night out, gets drunk and starts falling like she does. Best line from Vinny, who did not want her to come with them:

“She’s a drunk little meatball. You have to contain her or she’s going to roll off the plate.”

I love this show. So much.

Trish, who stayed with us this weekend, was mortified.

Trish: How can you still be smart when you watch crap like this?

Me: It’s because of crap like this. It’s a palate cleanser!

So thank you, MTV people. I wouldn’t say I’m mint, but I’m not jacked hideous.

Yours in neutral,
Beth

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December is my favorite month of the year because it is my birthday month, and because it features Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa – a holidaypalooza! No one gets any work done all month, people eat their body weights in cookies and candy, and parents have the chance to threaten their young children with the phrase, “Santa sees what you are doing right now.”

Christmas Eve is my favorite holiday because of the anticipation. Christmas Day has always felt like a let-down because the wait is over. It’s 364 days for the next build-up. But maybe that’s just me.

So, Christmas Eve = good; Christmas Day = kind of bad.

Here are other pairs:

Good: Bringing home and decorating a real Christmas tree.
Bad: Real Christmas tree needles that clog the ancient vacuum cleaner.

Good: Realizing a new Dyson vacuum cleaner with Root Cyclone technology might make a great Christmas gift.
Bad: Um … asking for a vacuum cleaner for Christmas.

Good: The boys are old enough to help decorate the tree.
Bad: They haven’t figured out the art of spacing.

Good: More quality time with the kids.
Bad: More time with the kids. (You know it is too much togetherness when you hear your son say, “Gideon punched me,” and your husband responds, “Good.”)

Good: Selecting the perfect presents for friends and family.
Bad: Wrapping all those presents and the bills that follow the purchase.

Good: Seeing a person’s reaction when she loves her gift. (Hi, Trish!)
Bad: Seeing the reaction when he doesn’t. (Hello, Ed.)

Good: Taking the kids to see Santa.
Bad: Knowing that the 5-year-old is not getting the computer he requested (!).

Good: Going to your first Hanukkah party.
Bad: Fleeing the Hanukkah party because your son has a meltdown because he doesn’t like the way his shirt collar feels on his neck.

Good: Unseasonably warm weather when the central heat has been acting strangely.
Bad: The kids deciding it’s OK to take off their clothes outside to better enjoy aforementioned warm weather.

Good: Having the time and inclination to make Christmas cookies.
Bad: The extra 10-pound reminder of why you shouldn’t.

Good: Deciding (well, hoping) that friends and family will forgive you for not sending holiday cards because you’ve been out of the country for three months and didn’t get your act together.
Bad: Feeling like a schmuck each time you go to the mailbox and see greetings from others.

Good: Singing Christmas carols as loudly as possible in a closed car.
Extra Good: Torturing your kids with your holiday singing after they’ve been torturing you all day with superhero noises.
Bad: There’s nothing bad about that … for you!

Good: Stop-motion Christmas specials such as “Rudolph, the Red-nosed Reindeer” (although I’m partial to “The Year Without a Santa Claus” because of the Miser Brothers).
Bad: Stop-motion specials such as “Rudolph’s Shiny New Year.” (It’s like the Scrappy Doo of specials.)

Good: The whole holiday season, in my opinion.
Bad: It’s almost over. Sigh.

Happy holidays to all of you!

 

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Facebook is a fascinating petri dish. Where else can you find people from all aspects of your life hanging out, sharing information and ribbing each other?

Facebook makes it possible for people to have exchanges like this:

Granted, as evidenced above, typed words and computer protection can make people say things they might not say in person, but the positives outweigh the negatives, I think.

By having friends across the spectrum, it helps ward off news insulation where you are only exposed to that with which you agree. It only works, though, if you don’t censor your news feed.

Here’s a sample of the interesting and varied people I am friends with on Facebook:

  • The guy who punched me in the stomach in sixth grade
  • My maid of honor’s baby daddy (and the baby too)
  • An author I met at a book signing/reading
  • My husband’s main gay whom I have never met in person (neither has he*)
  • A woman who “met” me through this blog
  • A mascot for the local Single A baseball team
  • A friend’s pet bird
  • A former colleague on whom I had a girl crush
  • A former student who nearly drove me batshit crazy
  • A drag queen
  • A guy I met during jury duty selection
  • My boss from my first retail job
  • The girl who peed in the back of the truck on the way back from Camp Toccoa
  • A fake person created by students in my Writing for the Web class
  • The guy who sold me my car
  • The perpetually drunk roommate of my first college boyfriend
  • A woman I call “Eeyore” because of her depressing posts
  • My high school French teacher
  • The woman who regularly kicks my butt in Words with Friends
  • The late chicken pictured in this blog’s header
  • An actor friend starring in Golden Corral commercials (“Ten bucks? Bam!”)

I love these people. I love all my Facebook friends. I am constantly amused, amazed and informed by what they post.

Sure, there are a couple of people on there who also drive me crazy with their passive-aggressive or alarmist status updates. And though I try to be a little selective about the people I connect with on Facebook, there are a couple of people on my friends list whom I don’t think I actually know.

That would be OK with one woman I know. This person is some kind of friend collector. Are you friends with both my husband and me? Expect a friend request. Have you breathed in her vicinity? Friend request. Breathing in general? A request is on the way.

That seems weird to me, but maybe I’m the weird one. Thoughts?

* This is an odd little story I’ll save for another time.

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“What is this, Mama?”
“This, Honey, is WrestleMania.”

Oh yes, it is.

In a shocking metamorphosis that began with moving out to “The Country” in 2006, continued with burning trash in the backyard and attending the Redneck Games and Rattlesnake Roundup, I have become what I feared the most: a redneck.

Or at least I have begun to assimilate into the culture.

I’ve been excited all week because tonight is Wrestlemania XXVII.

Ed almost had me talked into going to Atlanta to witness it live. But there is that little matter of an 8 a.m. class I have to teach. So, thanks to Xfinity, I can enjoy The Rock in the comfort of my own home. Oh yes, I would like to smell what The Rock is cookin’.

Also a draw: The Miz, whom I remember from “The Real World: Back to New York.” He’s also the WWE World Champion. And he’s AWESOME!

Ed and Trish have arrived for the event. Ed is in the kitchen, making nachos. Trish is taking bets on who wins each match. The kids are engrossed. Eddie is amused, as he usually is, by what I get us into. I’m writing this confessional. All is right in the world.

Look for the recap tomorrow.

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After Trish and I went to the Redneck Games last July, I knew I had to mark my calendar for the Claxton Rattlesnake Roundup. This marvelous event, held the second weekend in March, began in 1968 in an effort to reduce the rattlesnake population in the city. Now I think they have to truck in the snakes to round them up.

Sadly, Trish had to beg out to host a basketball tournament with the Savannah Storm. My friend Royce agreed to make the trek with me.

We got there early (9 a.m.) for the “3-D archery tournament.” It seemed promising, but the two of us made up 66.6 percent of the audience. The other spectator was an archer’s significant other, and I swear she was wearing pajama jeans.

While looking for the snake handling demonstrations, we ran across the entrance to the “birds of prey” area, which also doubled as home base for the gun raffle …

… and taxidermy expo.

We meandered outside and found the namesake snakes.

They were angry.

Around the corner, we spotted our first (and only) snake handler of the day. She was showing off a yellow rat snake.

Of course, we had to join in.

This is also where we spotted our first mullet. And what a glorious mullet it was (made even better by the Spiderman face paint).

We went back to the car to gather the energy (found in the cooler in my trunk) to continue. It was a good thing we did. We needed sustenance for the things we would see:

A coonskin cap

A coonskin snake

A many-skinned truck

A fish in a truck

Some knobbly butts

Rattlesnake queen

Stuffed acid-washed jeans

Stuffed coiled-up snake

Cantilevered waist

Human hamster balls

Massive overalls

A country fair is never complete without fried alligator and spiral potatoes.

That’s it. That’s all we could take. Royce is trying to talk me into going to the Warrior Dash. Maybe …

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I love that WordPress lets me know how people find my blog via search engines. For example:

My posts about the annual Redneck Games, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, and rhetorical devices get the most visitors from search engines. Interesting.

I talked to Trish yesterday about following up our Redneck Games extravaganza with the annual Claxton Rattlesnake Roundup next month. She claimed she put it on her calendar. Hmmm. I suspect I’ll have to hound her into submission.

I’ve got nothing to say today about the Cheetos. I have a pantry packed with Flamin’ goodness.

I’m not sure I’ve got much left to say about rhetorical devices. And that’s a device right there. Aporia (“Uh-POHR-ee-uh”) is the act of expressing real or simulated doubt.

Another one comes to mind because some friends and I have been talking about the musical “Hair.” (It has been 10 years since we — yes, I was in it — performed it at SCAD.)

Ain’t Got No” is an example of anaphora (“Uh-NAF-er-uh”) because each line begins with the same words.

Finally (for today), dialysis refers to weighing two arguments as a choice: either/or, this/not that, no/yes, etc. For example, I had a Twitter spat with some woman in Atlanta who objected to what I said about Glenn Beck:

 

So, according to nautilus55, EITHER I like Glenn Beck, OR I am a liberal. No room for anything else there, I guess. And that’s a false dilemma, my friends, which is a logical fallacy. More about those some other time …

 

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I’d like to post about Trish’s birthday weekend — also known as the Shock and Awe Safari — but I need to get photos from her. To tide you over until that post, here is an update on Shelly and Jeanne.

They don’t hate me anymore, but they are still suspicious of me. (I think they’ve seen what I often cook for dinner.)

They are also lazy. No eggs yet. You may remember that Trish squeezed out her first egg on, appropriately, Labor Day.

Shelly and Jeanne have been really loud lately though, so maybe they are getting ready for egg action. And Jeanne has been pecking at the window. For what purpose, I don’t know.

Maybe she’s trying to modify our eating habits. Maybe she should worry about producing some eggs …

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