Sarcomical

When I Was in Second Grade...

I looked like this:

Seemingly, I was in a scrape with some sort of clawed creature prior to having my picture taken. Also, I wonder if there would be any way I could replicate that exact barrette placement and perfect triangular head shape. Because that? Is all kinds of awesome.

This was my class:

At the end of school that year, I wrote the following in my diary: "Dear Diary, only two more days of school and I haven't gotten to know some people yet. ...I will especially miss Jill, Michelle G., Kim, Kristy L., and Melissa F. I had fun today! p.s. I hope I will have fun this summer!"

I started a crush:

"Dear Diary, today I had fun eating my treat. At school, David ___ pretended that he shot me with a spear! And my grandma and grandpa came to our house today. p.s. Today I found out that I sort of like David ___ and Chad ___. It's hard to say that I like them because they are very nice."

I ended a crush:

"Dear Diary, it's hard to believe that after just one day I don't like David ___ and Chad ___ any more. And someone showed our house today. We all got some ice cream sodas! And today we practiced our races. It was fun!"

This was where we ate lunch:

When I think back to those days, I remember getting extremely excited about Pizza Day, and also opening up my Strawberry Shortcake lunchbox often finding a Twinkie inside.

Speaking of lunch, here were the lunch ladies. The one, er, highlighted is Margaret. If there was anyone on the planet created to torture small children until they shriveled up and floated away in a puff of fear, THIS WAS THE LADY. We called her Mean Margaret.

In our school, we ate in the gymnasium, on the pull-out tables that came down from the walls. This meant there were gymnasium floor circles (for basketball, etc.) in the middle of our lunch area. They used to pull out kids to punish them by making them stand in those circles during lunch. This archaic punishment practice was not-so-affectionately called being "Put In The Middle". One day, Mean Margaret put me - ME, the kid who was the most straight-laced, afraid-of-offending-authority-figures kid - in The Middle.

For what, you may ask?

Well, I'll tell you.

For making that "cuckoo", "you're crazy" finger-swirling-near-your head-then-pointing-at-someone motion toward one of my friends. No, I'm serious. And it's not like anyone told on me, either. It's not like I made someone cry. We were having fun. She just saw me do it, came over, and told me how wrong what I had just done was. And, while my friends at the table watched in timid silence, I had to go dump my lunch in the garbage and stand in The Middle until she told me I could leave. I remember my cheeks burning with HOT HATRED, BURNING SEETHING ANGER at the injustice and embarrassment of it all. Oh, the tragedy!

The recess aide came to find me after she heard what happened (and when I stayed in during recess due to THE SHAME, MY GOD THE SHAME), and lovingly tried to convince me that it wasn't the worst thing in the world and that contrary to what my young Second Grade mind believed, this would not be discussed for all eternity among THE WORLD'S ENTIRE POPULATION, and that she didn't think it seemed fair and she felt sorry for me.

(...I mean, can you imagine? What if to this day when I walked into, say, IKEA or the grocery store, everyone started scattering into the corners,with hushed whispers. "That's the one! That's the girl who was in The Middle! COMMENCE SHUNNING."

The principal seemed marginally (heh) less excited about leading the school that year, at least if you go by the photographic evidence:

This year.

Last year.

Polo shirts were...well, let's just say it...HUGE this year. Bonus points if your polo shirt was striped. Super Mondo Bonus Points if it had a ringed collar. And if you had your collar popped? Dude, you were so weird, why don't you go to New York City where they do crazy things like that? We're small-town, you see? NO INDIVIDUAL THINKING.

Here were a few of the top songs from that school year, which I would have only heard
a.) on the bus
b.) at a friend's house
c.) in the car but only if my father wasn't in said car, because Secular Music is the gateway to all sorts of Sins Of the Flesh and Of the Spirit, as are most sitcoms and ANY restaurant that serves alchohol, which you are banned from eating in or even looking into as you drive past)
d.) in my room, behind my bed, on the floor, with the radio in my hands and the volume knob turned to just below 1 with my ear pressed against the speaker.

And let me preface this also by saying, I deeply, deeply apologize for what's surely about to happen inside your brain when these seep in there through your eyeballs, and for the resulting torture you will encounter as most likely the least pleasant of these ditties begins to bounce around inside your mental eardrums over and over and over and over again:

• I Love Rock 'n Roll - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts
  
• Ebony & Ivory - Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder
  
• Every Breath You Take - The Police
  
• I Can't Go For That (No Can Do) - Hall & Oates
  
• Gloria - Laura Branigan
  
• Say Say Say - Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson (whad'up, Mr. McCartney? holy collaborations.)
  
• Who Can It Be Now - Men at Work
  
• We Got the Beat - The Go-Go's
  
• Tainted Love - Soft Cell
  
• Total Eclipse of the Heart - Bonnie Tyler
  
• Beat It - Michael Jackson
  
• All Night Long - Lionel Richie
  
• Rock the Casbah - The Clash
  
• Do You Really Want to Hurt Me - Culture Club
  
• Hungry Like the Wolf - Duran Duran

Wow.

Making Up With You, Photo/Video-Style...

These past two weeks I've been incredibly bad about paying any proper attention to Teh Internets. You see, I've been doing this weirdness that involves being very, very busy in the Real World, planning and executing photo shoots, trying to get my editing done in a remotely appropriate fashion, OH YEAH, and having a birthday and 10-year anniversary this week with The Husband taking his first few days off since well before Thanksgiving.

What does Real Life think it's doing, tromping all over my blogging time? Doesn't it realize how rude it is to make me snub my Friendternets™? CAN'T IT CHILL OUT AND STEP OFF, GEORGE?

Honestly, I've had a great time, especially this past week what with all of the celebratasticness (oh yes, I made that shit up, and you should use it baby).

Let me try to catch you up on that good stuff, shall I?

Sarcomical Turns 26 32: (sigh.)

I turned a year older in a very bright shirt.

I had some Low-Key Fun in the car while distracting The Husband and, as he says "cutting the camera away (supposedly) during his sweet sweet moves".

The Husband gave me a very appropriate card...

...which was, HAHA, hilarious. Seeing as the inside read, "...you know better than to cut your bangs now." Because, you know, I JUST DID THAT LAST WEEK. Gah. And also? I totally did what that girl on the card did to her hair when I was about 5 years old. I had a quasi-mullet for about a year and half afterward just to get it grown out and look less accidental. Hot.

I ended the night with what has become a birthday ritual: swinging on the playground at the school down the road. It feels fantastic (until the pad thai starts to churn), and (apparently) it makes me laugh like a patient in a mental hospital. On crack.

I'm afraid you might be beginning to think I am not all that sophisticated. Or that I always talk like a yippy teenager. ...I can be quite charming and mature, with a womanly voice, on occasion.

I swear.

For instance, when I came home, I put on one of the freebie t-shirts iVillage sent us for DeLush, and classed it up with some chocolate cake combined with a few Lays potato chips (which was a spontaneous decision that turned out pretty well if you ask me).

Mr. & Ms. Sarcomical Celebrate 10 Years of Exclusive Dating: (heh.)

The next day was our anniversary, and after a relaxing day of doing not too much that caused us to get off the couch, we finally got ourselves out of the house for dinner at Eagle's Nest, the rotating restaurant above the Hyatt downtown (and coincidentally the place where we ate the night we got engaged). The food was overpriced but still good, and the dirty martini & view made it more of an event.

Also, the bathroom was in the middle and therefore stationary. This, I thought, was a good thing.

We then went to a teeny-tiny hole-in-the-wall spot called the Chatterbox Jazz Club, where we sat for a while and enjoyed a glass of Gewuerztraminer (me), a Newcastle (him) and a self-described "gypsy jazz ensemble", playing "30's Paris jazz". Très Cool. Alas, my flashless stupid cameraphone performed another FAIL when I tried to capture the actual ambience. Ah, well.

We did get a photo while walking back to the car, though. See?

We then went dancing, where we partied to Madonna, Usher, Britney, T Pain (boots with the fur, yo), etc. until The Husband pleaded WOMAN I AM TIRED, and I finally gave in and let him take me home.

See? And that was just two days.

p.s. Can I also mention in the past week, OMG IRON MAN. The Downeyliciousness is indescribable. Except, yum.

Face-Making...

...and practicing some lighting positions shooting the flash through an umbrella.

Why I May Never Feel Safe In My Car Again

Last night I went to hear The Sartorialist speak and give a presentation about his fashion photography of real people on the streets of NYC, Paris, Milan, etc. The man is pure genius and passion wrapped up in great hair and a fabulous suit. I did get to talk to him a bit afterward, but alas no photographic evidence was obtained, because it just didn't feel like a photo-op moment. He was incredibly funny though, and also very uplifting; he definitely encourages being confident in the uniqueness YOU have to offer when presenting yourself and your abilities to the world in order to pursue your goals.

THAT SAID...

I was kind of flying high after having some actual chit-chat with one of my modern photographic heroes (self-taught, by the way), driving home in the dark, only slightly de-buzzed by the fact that my Grand Plan to pick up pad thai & chicken satay from one of my new favorite places that I'm not often in the vicinity of was SQUASHED when I called to find out they had just closed 5 minutes before.

About fifteen minutes into my twenty-five minute drive, at one of the many stoplights along the way, I noticed something thanks to the glow from the taillights of the car in front of me. Hmm...looked like a bump of some sort on my dashboard, right up near the windshield in the left corner. My internal dialog picked up here as follows:

"Is that...a wad of fuzz? ...a bit of a leaf? Oh...it's not...is that a...? It kind of looks like a spider. Oh shit. ...No, it's not a spider. That would be disgusting. I don't see legs. If I see legs, so help me. I swear to God if I see legs I'm pulling over. ... ... OH MY GOD, okay it's a spider. It's a black furry spider. And I'm all alone. I'm trapped in a car on a very busy road in the dark all alone with a black furry spider and it's going to jump on me. It's going to jump on me and I'm going to hit something and potentially die because a spider in my car attacked me. Help! HELP! Okay, it looks like it's not moving. Thank God. Maybe it's dead? Hmm...a dead spider would be okay. ... ... NO NO NO!!! It just moved! When the car is stopped for a while it moves! It's coming toward me and I can feel its eyes on me. Oh Dear God please don't let me hit another red light oh pleasepleaseplease. NO RED LIGHTS NO RED LIGHTS."

This continued on the remainder of the drive, with me scrunching as far as humanly possible toward the passenger side while still being able to actually control the wheel. My entire body was tensed up and I think I was squinting. I had a brief moment where I thought, yeah, I could cry right now, but I didn't. Because I was pretty sure that thing would be disturbed by sound, which was why I not only had my entire body clenched, but also had the radio completely turned down. No, I couldn't take my chances that the spider would be agitated in any way.

You may ask "So, why didn't you just kill the thing? Aren't you being unnecessarily dramatic?" I'll tell you why, you smartass. First of all, I had nothing in the car I could reach for fast enough while I was stopped that would sufficiently squash it and maintain a sufficient barrier between my hand and its leggy, furry grossness. Secondly, I was never in a well-lit enough area (even with the rearview mirror light turned on) to really be sure I was going to hit it when I reached out instead of just smacking my hand on the dashboard, giving it a convenient bridge up my arm onto my face.

Even though I spent 15 minutes in terror, barely avoiding hitting the cars in front of me as I braced for each brake obsessively staring at my dashboard and leaning farther and farther to the right in order to avoid a face-sucking spider jumping at me, I did make it home alive.

And wouldn't you know it? That damned spider disappeared into the corner of the windshield one turn before I pulled into my street, and I couldn't find it when I got into the garage (full of worthy spider-squashing tools, of course). I can only hope it will travel back out of the car into the garage.

...Where it will probably come through the door into our house and get into my favorite chair. Waiting for me.

Two Little Pots, Potential Of

I got these two containers at T.J. Maxx. They go with that whole black, white & green thing I've got going on in my office. Now the question is, should I just keep them up there all sad and purposeless, or should I hide something in them? They're about five inches tall. Hmmm...what to hide, what to hide...

Some Things Friday #70: Soccer Studs, Crashes, and Nude Bras

Some Things I Love:

1. The bottom of the ice cream cone. You know what I mean...that part at the base where all of the ice cream melted into those little square holes. I can't WAIT to get to the bottom of that ice cream cone.
   
2. Shrimp fajitas. Olé! (I just had them for dinner. Jealous?)
   
3. Short fingernails. (The easier to type like a mad woman, my dear. And p.s. - guitar lessons hopefully this year? We shall see.)
   
4. Baby monkeys.
   
5. Sarcomical Some Things Friday Hottie of the Week: U.S. Soccer Player Carlos Bocanegra (thanks to my recent reader tip to check out Kickette!)
   

Some Things I Hate:

1. This new weather, lovely as it is, requires too much shaving for someone as lazy as this girl is.
   
2. Waking up from a really cool dream RIGHT before you get handed your Emmy / make out with your Hollywood crush / find out what your new baby looks like / bitch slap that snotty lady from the office.
   
3. Clothing stores for the young'ens that make me have to try on something two sizes bigger than I am everywhere else. YOU SUCK.
   
4. Computer crashes in the middle of VERY IMPORTANT THINGS.
   
5. Crushed and broken barbecue Baked Lays at the bottom of the bag. Hard to look classy while licking silver interior.

Some Things I Just Don't Get:

1. Adult women who still don't understand that WE CAN SEE THAT WHITE BRA UNDER THAT WHITE T-SHIRT. Listen, it's NUDE under white, ladies. NUDE. In fact, nude is better under pretty much everything except black. Do you really not know this? I've even said it here before. Please. Just stop it.
   
2. Contortionists.
   
3. Should I be concerned about the hissing sizzle sound when I spoon the Splenda into my tea?
   
4. Rosie Perez's career.
   
5. Why can't I convince The Husband that karaoke would, in fact, be a VERY FUN DATE?

Scruffy

I love him, even when he lets the beardage get a little bit Mountain Man-like. Listen, I'm not going to get picky about facial hair with someone who can make kick-ass scrambled eggs, build anything, make a suicidal computer come back to life, and can appreciate the entertainment value of a well-timed "that's what she said".

One-Word Sarcomical Sunday #17: More About Us Than We Ever Wanted to Know

On this week's One-Word Sarcomical Sunday, I'm digging deeper. Deeper into some of the more mundane/self-conscious/unattractive things that you weren't quite sure you'd ever really decide to share with The Internet. Why? Because those are the things all of us really want to know about each other anyway, yes? It makes us feel proportionally less mundane/self-conscious/unattractive in a larger company of the same. Isn't online community grand?

*Okay, here are the Newbie Ground Rules:

1. After reading my answers, copy and paste the list into your comment.
   
2. Change my one-word responses with yours (yes, only ONE WORD, even if it makes you want to pull your brains through your tear duct - and I design the statements to make it possible if you're clever enough, which of COURSE you are).
   
3. Submit your comment.
   
4. And hey, you can always post your finished list on your blog, too. (Yes, a post idea! You're welcome.) Link back here if you're feeling nice. Enjoy!

If you get something out of a vending machine, it's most likely the: Lays
A word you sometimes catch yourself misspelling: Unparalleled
You least want people to see you as: Irrelevant
You're a little scared of: Geese
The least attractive thing you do in your sleep: Scowl
The number of contacts in your cell phone: 94
How many of them are restaurants: 18
You lose your cool when someone: Lies
When you go to the drugstore, you often can't leave without buying: Balm
Your dance moves can best be described as: Safe
The majority of your underwear is: Unused
Something you eat even though you hate how bad it is for you: Franks
You think you're really not a great: Speaker
How much cash is in your wallet right now: $26
The majority of your shoes are this color: Black
You don't think you'll ever be able to get rid of your: Stubbornness
If your breath is bad, it's most likely because you had the: Onions
You feel embarrassed when you: Blather
The last public place where you used the restroom: Palomino
Something you don't like to debate in mixed company: Sexuality
You don't think you can pull off wearing: Fedoras
Something you own entirely too much of: Jeans
Someone you would love to see in concert who might bring down your street cred: Fergie
The last thing that you spilled on yourself: Mustard
If you were on a reality show, the producers would likely portray/characterize you as the: Wisecracker

technorati tags: One-Word Sarcomical Sundays

Proof That Damn Colbert Marketing Train Continues to Steamroll Right Over Me

That would be the Stephen Colbert Marketing Train, of course. Oh, I can't help myself. I love Stephen. And he's been heavily pushing these stupid Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos this entire month (see video below), and I couldn't take it anymore. I became obsessed. I wanted to try them more and more with each segue where he crumpled through a bag and made it look so utterly delicious. Finally, The Husband showed up with a tiny bag because he wanted to end my suffering.

I CAN'T FIGHT YOU, STEPHEN COLBERT. THANKS TO YOU THESE LIPS WHICH HAVEN'T TOUCHED DORITOS SINCE I WAS ABOUT TWENTY-THREE YEARS OLD ARE OFFICIALLY BACK TO ZERO ON THEIR DORITO-FREE STREAK.

Thanks a lot. (p.s. I heart your stupid Dorito-pushing face. Read past the Harsh and feel the Love. M'kay, bye.)

p.s. They were a'yight.

(Feed reader folks, there's a video here.)

technorati tags: Stephen Colbert, Indecision '08

Barely a Smile...