The Fault in Our Stars (aka The Fault in the Book)

My dear Casey decided I need to write book reviews based on how I talk about books. 

We were discussing The Fault in Our Stars. So here we go.


I seriously don't get it. Kids dying of cancer doesn't make a book good. It just doesn't.


More books to come.

People need to calm down

I feel like every year people are getting more offended about everything.

Well, let me tell you, I despise Halloween costumes. I live in LA. That makes Halloween "Dress-up-like-a-you-know-what Day." I'm not into it.

But this is taking things too far.

http://www.ivillage.com/offensive-halloween-costume-ideas-make-us-sad-humanity/4-a-549046?obref=obinsite

WHAT? You can't dress like a nun? An old lady? A mental patient?



Come on. Not everything causes deep, debilitating stigmatization. Let people have a little fun.

People cannot take themselves so seriously. If they do, this is what will happen:


Kid: Mom, I want to be a doctor for Halloween.

Mom: No honey, that's stigmatizing doctors.

Kid: Well then, I want to be a chicken for Halloween.

Mom: No honey, that's stigmatizing chickens.

Kid: Princess?

Mom: No honey. Why don't you just stay home and pick up carpet lint this Halloween?


No thank you.

Why am I not an inventor?

So, I don't love plugging things because I feel like that's free advertising, and I feel like I should get something for my advertising. But when I truly love something, I let it be known.
 
I was at the beauty supply store today. Because I have a cosmetology license I get to go to the super special supply store, which can also be known as heaven.
 
As I was checking out I saw this funny little contraption on a table next to the register.


What was this funny thing? I had to ask because those of you who know me know I need to know everything.

I am told it curls your hair. What?

It doesn't just curl your hair - it's a miracurl!! (Okay, corny, I know, but it's called a Miracurl.)

You put a piece of your hair in and it sucks the whole thing up and makes perfect curls. I'm not getting further into it than that but you really should check it out. It's the most amazing thing ever.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=knCcKILG97w&feature=player_detailpage

I was so fascinated that I ignored my germaphobia to try to curl multiple sections of my hair. And it worked!

Man, I wish I was that smart.

What the heck happened?

I'm going camping. I love camping. I can't wait. And I'm going with a bunch of friends, which just makes the whole thing even better.

But what the heck happened?

I book the reservation and pay. Cha-ching!

But, I schedule the camping weekend on the same weekend my father is coming in from out of state. So I reschedule. There's a fee. Cha-ching!

Then my husband and I decide that we need to take a trip to a huge camping store very far away to buy stuff. Because you need stuff when camping. More stuff. This hasn't happened yet, but it will. Future cha-ching!

While on the phone booking the reservation, the very nice girl tells me that it's going to be hot. Very hot. So I know I'm going to need to be swimming in the river. Now, hubby and I were already planning on joining a gym but now we decide we're going to join a gym the very same day we book the trip. Cha-ching!

So, with my sign-up, I get a session with a trainer. Trainer tells me my body fat percentage (gasp) and how long the average person takes to reach my goal (what??). So, of course, I sign up for a personal trainer, because if I could do it on my own I WOULD have, dammit. So I've signed up. As has hubby. For a year. Cha-ching! (HUGE cha-ching, in fact.)

And, I'm going to need a new bathing suit. Future cha-ching!

This might be the single most expensive camping trip in the history of the world.

I have become that person

Yep. That person who is obsessed with Twitter.



I hated Twitter when it came out. I thought it was ridiculous.

But my dear friend Evelyn is on it and almost everything she says is genius so I had to read it.

And when I read it I had to reply.

And then I realized what a genius I am as well! I'm so astute and/or hilariously funny in 140 characters!

AND the best part is, authors I really admire converse with me. With ME!!! In what other world would that happen?

But the problem is I'm now obsessed with it. I always want to see if someone favorites a tweet or retweets one of my brilliant observations.

Most of the time they have not.

It's interrupting my reading and television watching.

I need rehab.

My life is a movie

People tell me all the time my life is like a movie. I don't know. To me, it's just my life. But apparently things happen to me that don't happen to most people. Maybe I just get out more? I don't know.

Anyway, years and years ago something happened to me that people find absolutely hilarious so I promised my friend Tim that I would post about it. This is also a favorite story of Casey's so she'll be glad to see it here, I'm sure.

When I first met my husband I worked at a shoe store. It wasn't just a shoe store, it was a comfort shoe store in a mall. Nothing like dealing all day with elderly people with bunions and plantar fasciitis. Fun stuff.

My husband-to-be worked across the street and would come to hang out with me because it could be an awfully boring job.

Well, one day a man came in. He was probably 40 or 45. (Keep in mind I was 21 at the time.) I don't remember much about him other than that he was very tall and had close cropped brown hair. I can't even remember his name.

It became clear very quickly that he wasn't there to shop, but to talk to me. This was at the beginning of the Iraq war and he was telling me that he was moving to Saudi Arabia to do some kind of oil security. He talked for a very long time. The way this job was set up was that we were often alone in the store and I had nowhere to escape to. Very soon he began telling me that I could go with him. He said he was going to make a lot of money and he knew that it was a dangerous place but that he would keep me safe. I laughed uncomfortably and said no. He went on and on. For another 20 minutes or so. Finally, a coworker came in and I escaped through the exit in the back, thinking this would be the end.

Unfortunately, it just got worse from there.

He would come in all the time. Husband-to-be was there sometimes and he thought it was hilarious.

If I saw the guy coming and I had someone else working with me, I would hide. More than once I followed him around the mall, watching him while he was looking for me, having been told I was on lunch.

It was really creepy. And sometimes I couldn't escape.

Everyone I worked with thought the whole thing was very funny as well.

He continued to come in and he began telling me that he loved me and he wanted to marry me and that he had a ring for me and everything. He kept saying that the time for him to leave was approaching and I needed to make a decision. I kept telling him my decision was absolutely not. Finally he told me that he was leaving in a few days and that the next day he was going to bring me the ring.

My thought? Yeah, right.

But the next day, there he was. Not only did he have a ring but he also had an appraisal certificate telling me how much the ring was worth. It was worth a lot. He kept telling me the ring was custom made. But the second best part? (The best part comes in a minute.) The certificate had some woman's name on it!!! When I questioned this he said it was his ex-fiance but it was okay because he wanted to marry me.

Then the time comes to see the ring..... (This is the best part.)

The ring is this huge, gaudy diamond (I don't even like diamonds), with this huge gold band. And the band? It's carved into......

Wait for it.......

Two naked people, a man and a woman, bending backwards, holding the diamond.

Oh. My. God.

Seriously. Talk about creepy. I wish, oh how do I wish, that I had pictures of this ring.

Everything after seeing the ring is blocked out of my memory. I told him no and somehow got him to leave but I really don't know how. And I never saw him again. Thank god.

So that's that. My life is like a movie. And every time I bring this guy up my husband still thinks it's hilarious.

Pooping at work (a delicate subject)

So. We have come to this in our blogging relationship.

I don't like talking about poop. I really don't. But I have had this private conversation with a few friends and they think it should be out in the public so here we go.

The way the bathrooms are set up at my work is like this:

There are four bathrooms, two on either side of the office. Two face a wall and two face offices. One of those offices is mine.

There are two people at my work who come in every morning and poop. One is a guy, one is a girl. (This doesn't really matter except for story differentiation later.) Normally they do this in the bathrooms that face the wall so it's a nice, private affair.

Well, two days ago the guy clogged the toilet. But apparently he clogged it so badly it wrecked BOTH toilets on that side.

I couldn't understand how that could happen. Well, we haven't had a toilet on that side for two days so now I understand because they all come to my side.

This morning the girl uses the restroom She flushed FOUR times. FOUR.

Then, a few minutes later, the guy comes and flushes FIVE.

Okay people. Come on. If you have to flush that many times you shouldn't be pooping in a public place.

My friend, Evelyn, says (as I was texting her to complain about it, and I quote), "Um. LOL. What are they supposed to do??"

I see her point. If you gotta go, well, you gotta go.

But here's the thing - they both do this EVERY morning, mere minutes after they get to work. And they both live close. So, they KNOW this is going to happen. Why don't they just go at home?

Do they ENJOY pooping at work? Are they AFRAID to poop at home?

And really, who feels so comfortable pooping at work that they can flush NINE times total? It's crazy.

And, to make matters worse, the clogged bathrooms are emitting a putrid stench that has been enjoyed by the people on the other side of the office for two days now. (I am so glad it's not my side. I wouldn't come to work.)

So here's the deal - poop at home if you can. It's just respectful.