It’s a gym you nitwit, not a beauty salon

February 25, 2011 at 7:37 pm (Funny at least to me, Uncategorized) (, , , , , , )

Photo Courtesy of elvissa on Flickr

Dear young blonde thang at the gym the other night:

I regret to inform you that you and your friend mistakenly entered into a gym…not a jungle gym, which would be more appropriate befitting your age, but a gym where people work out and sweat. A lot.

So while I understand you were a bit perturbed when I walked my sweaty ass into the women’s lav in order to wash my hands, I really was making a better use of the facilities. I know you desperately needed to know that your hair hadn’t lost it’s proper curl-to-skank ratio. And that your make-up was still attached to your face, because, god forbid, someone see you without eyeliner. But you’re not at a freakin’ beauty salon, honey, you’re at the local no-frills gym. Where I am the norm. Someone sweaty and without an ounce of make-up. And wearing some bargain t-shirts and sweats. Because as cute as your little leopard-print short-shorts are, they don’t really scream “take me seriously!” to the dudes I have to share equipment with. They do scream “take me!” though, so rest assured you will get plenty of the attention you claim to despise.

I also apologize for getting a bit perturbed myself as I had to wait to wash my hands because you and your friend were busy fixing said hair and making kissy faces at the mirror (because if you’re reflection doesn’t love you, who will?). I guess I don’t have the patience I used to with idiots. Sorry. I’m in my 30s. That’s the decade you become allergic to idiots.

Hopefully the dye-job didn’t seep into your brain, and you will be able to figure out that you were a bit confused on your surroundings, and we can co-exist in harmony the next time our paths cross. But lose the leopard-print shorts. They really do scream “take me.”

PS. And to the 40-something dude who couldn’t be bothered to say “thank you” when I held the door for you, despite my strong belief that my arms were about to fall off, your Certificate of Douchebaggedness is in the mail. “You’re welcome.”


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It’s a small world after all…

February 22, 2011 at 6:17 pm (Somewhat Serious) (, , , , , , , )


Photo courtesy of Kenneth Lu

Growing up in this age of technological change has allowed me to see both sides of the coin. I remember when we only considered our friends to be those people we had actually met in person. You could only really build a relationship with someone who you spoke to in person. Your social network consisted of those people you interacted with on a daily or weekly basis, in person.

With the exponential explosion of online social networking, I began to hear stories of people who counted among their friends people from across the globe, whom they never spoke with on the phone, much less knew face-to-face. And I thought that was very weird. How can you know someone through the cold infrastructure of optic cables and servers…how can you really care about them like you might your neighbor next door?

Yesterday, there was another earthquake in Christchurch, New Zealand. I have never been to New Zealand. The closest I’ve ever been to meeting someone in person from that part of the globe was seeing an exchange student from Australia in the halls during high school.

But I do know a woman in New Zealand. Through the cold infrastructure of optic cables and servers. She’s a fellow lampworker, who frequents the same forum I do, who friended me on Facebook. I’ve never met her face to face.

The emotional reaction I had to hearing that there had been another earthquake was as valid and real as if it had concerned one of my relatives. My first thought wasn’t “Those poor people,” it was “Fiona! Is she OK?”

And I’ve learned an important lesson. You can know someone through technology. The world has gotten much smaller, not colder and more distant. Social networking has allowed us to reach out and embrace each other from afar, people we never would have known existed 20 years ago.

And isn’t that connection really what it’s all about?

Where we used to be limited to forming connections with those in our own towns or cities, the whole world now awaits our participation in its construction. I don’t need to see your face to know you. I don’t need to hear your voice to know you. I only need to reach out and connect, and you are now part of my world.

So the next time someone bemoans how distant the world in becoming, I will be more skeptical that they are choosing to withhold their contribution to the social network that exists in the clouds. Because those creepy little mechanical puppets in the Disney ride were correct in their little cult mantra: “It’s a small world after all.”

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A year later & VD still sucks…

February 13, 2011 at 10:58 pm (Dating is Fun, Funny at least to me) (, , , , , , , , )

Valentine’s Day, you pervs. Valentine’s Day still sucks (though it goes without saying that Venereal Disease is certainly a unfortunate event as well).

But I am woman enough to admit that if I did have a significant other, I would so be expecting some candy, a car and a Ferrari. See, no one can live up to my expectations.

So in celebration of the little fat bastard, a.k.a Cupid, I give you some special Valentine greetings from those of us not so keen on the bloody holiday (and no, I have not become British…the mascot of the holiday is a non-toilet trained toddler who shoots *arrows* people, how could it not get bloody?) myspace graphic comments
Easter Graphics myspace graphic comments
Easter Graphics
Anti Valentine Day graphics comment



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I blame the teenagers…

February 1, 2011 at 3:07 am (Funny at least to me) (, , , , )

Potty humor...get it???

I’ve never been the model of propriety. E.V.E.R. I inherited the potty humor gene from my grandfather, and have also been blessed with the ability to say something inappropriate at the world’s most inappropriate time. It’s my gift. I accept it.

But working with teenagers for 8 hours a day has enabled me to rise to a new level of maturity…especially the boys. I’m not even sure a sailor could make me blush anymore. And I confess that as I listen to people speak, I hold back the urge (sometimes) to shout, “That ‘s what she said!” The result of my interaction with teenagers is a collection of everyday words that make me giggle. Which pisses off people trying to communicate with me on a serious level, which thank goodness, does not happen too often. So, I give you the top 10 words I can no longer hear without giggling.

1) sack

2) tea bag

3) your mom (technically a phrase, but it’s my list)

4) titillate (don’t judge–you know you just giggled, too)

5) junk

6) hard (pretty much in any way shape or form…usually used in a sentence which is followed up by “That’s what she said.”)

7) balls

8) pump

9) nut(s)

10) Uranus (like you don’t laugh at that one, too)

Lovely image of the potty by Bart Everson

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