Valentine's Day is such a scam. I really think it was created for couples with bad relationships to make amends for all the terrible crap they do to one another the rest of the year.
Being the self-proclaimed social scientist I am, I've noticed a correlation: the worse a relationship is in terms of fighting, annoyance, whining, and complaining, the more abundant and juvenile the gifts that are exchanged for Valentine's Day. I believe it's because couples who fight constantly are selfish (thus justifying the quantity of gifts needed to placate), and immature (meaning a girl who throws a screaming tantrum deserves a teddy bear).
The one item that I feel I need to speak out publicly against is the Hoodie-Footie pajamas. I keep seeing and hearing this advertised all over the place, and it seems to be a pre-cursor to my worst nightmare: hoodie-footie pajamas in public. I guarantee you that this is the next step in the devolution of the human species.
It's bad enough that people feel it's socially acceptable to wear pajama pants and Crocs to the grocery store. It's just a matter of time before some woman decked out from head-to-toe in a pink hoodie-footie will show up in another email installment of "People of Wal Mart" (although that is a step up from the 350 lb woman wearing thong underwear and size 10 shorts).
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Think of it as "buying a lifestyle"!
OK, so this weekend we took advantage of our "discounted vacation package" which was really a time share presentation disguised as a fabulous weekend getaway. Not that we didn't know what we were getting ourselves into; we went in knowing full well we were going to have to sit through a 90-minute (minimum) experiment in human psychology but we were armed with our "no" faces and wearing clothes normally reserved for yard work or bathing animals.
The sloppy first-impression was Neal's idea. Perhaps he was subconsciously inspired by the episode of The Cosby Show where Dr. Huxtable and Theo go to the car lot to lowball wearing their threadbare shirts, only to be recognized as a doctor by one of the sales staff. Only in this instance, you have to fill out paperwork stating your occupation and income level. Nice try, Dr. Spears. We couldn't lie on the forms since it could invalidate the whole deal and we'd be liable for the remainder of the cost of the weekend. Thanks a lot, internet.
Anyway, we went and sat at the Registration Center of the resort for about 20 minutes in which time we were offered free hot dogs and chocolate. We were also forced to listen to annoying clips from "America's Funniest Home Videos" that were turned up to 11 so that little kids would be completely engaged and not at all bothersome while the sales rep was trying to establish what promised to be a life-long relationship with the potential buyers.
Our tour guide/sales rep finally greeted us and took us outside for our interview, probably so he could hear us over Bob Saget's voice. He asked all the standard stuff and acted like he was totally impressed with every syllable we uttered. We're trying to keep expectations low so that he's not too disappointed when we tell him "no", and much to his credit, I think he picked up on that. Nonetheless, we toured the property which pretty much solidified our decision. The property was great; the clientele not so much.
We're trudging through the recreation center, around the pool and the putt putt golf course, and I'm seeing people that look like they would be...loud. They all looked like they list their hobbies as "partying" and "gettin hammered". I'm not going to say anything beyond that but you can probably imagine. A lot of them looked like the cast of "My Name is Earl" meets "Jersey Shore".
The tour was punctuated with announcements over the loudspeaker of different families who had just bought their piece of the dream, and where they were choosing to spend their first vacation. The announcer had the exhuberance of a Price is Right contestant, which prompted all the sales people around the property to clap wildly and high-five any fellow sales rep within 5 feet of them upon hearing his contagious enthusiasm.
Finally, we came back to the registration center for the sales pitch. Our sales rep did a fantastic job at showing us around and being a nice person but it just wasn't enough to commit us to vacationing in the same seven locations for the rest of our lives. When he realized he was getting nowhere, he summond the next guy up on the totem poll. This next-in-command sales guy landed at our table like he'd been dropped from the sky. He either needed some ADHD medication or a reduction in coffee intake. Maybe it was the latter because he was chewing vigorously on the only thing that is guaranteed to cover coffee breath, which is Strawberry Bubblicious. It was so strong I could smell it from across the table.
Bubblicious tried the full-court press by whipping out the catalog of destinations offered by their sister company that we could use seemingly any time, any place in a perfect world. I could see that Bubblicious was doing great with my son. He was very impressed with the selection of vacations and color photos of palatial suites that sit practically right on the beach or right at the bottom of the mountain. Trent could hardly believe we were passing up the deal of a lifetime.
Unfortunately for Bubblicious, Trent was not making the decision so it was still a big, fat "no". He went through the seven stages of grieving in the course of about 10 seconds, then told us he'd be back with our paperwork to claim our prizes.
You might think this is the end, but alas, there is a second act. Once you get your paperwork, you are shuffled into the "Awards Center", which is the least maintained building on the property. It's here that you sign in and wait. I don't know if the motif of the room was supposed to be "DMV waiting room" but if it was, they nailed it. I noticed there was a candy machine in the corner, and laughed. Before the tour, the Hershey Miniatures were free and plentiful. Now, they wanted a quarter for each one.
Thirty minutes later, our name was called and Neal was whisked into a back room where I was sure he would be granted one last chance to take advantage of this investment-of-a-lifetime. I was surprised when he emerged 10 minutes later with an American Express gift card and free passes to their water park facility, stress-free.
We felt like we'd been paroled and went straight to the water park. While it was a fun little place, I'm glad we didn't commit to it for the rest of our lives.
The sloppy first-impression was Neal's idea. Perhaps he was subconsciously inspired by the episode of The Cosby Show where Dr. Huxtable and Theo go to the car lot to lowball wearing their threadbare shirts, only to be recognized as a doctor by one of the sales staff. Only in this instance, you have to fill out paperwork stating your occupation and income level. Nice try, Dr. Spears. We couldn't lie on the forms since it could invalidate the whole deal and we'd be liable for the remainder of the cost of the weekend. Thanks a lot, internet.
Anyway, we went and sat at the Registration Center of the resort for about 20 minutes in which time we were offered free hot dogs and chocolate. We were also forced to listen to annoying clips from "America's Funniest Home Videos" that were turned up to 11 so that little kids would be completely engaged and not at all bothersome while the sales rep was trying to establish what promised to be a life-long relationship with the potential buyers.
Our tour guide/sales rep finally greeted us and took us outside for our interview, probably so he could hear us over Bob Saget's voice. He asked all the standard stuff and acted like he was totally impressed with every syllable we uttered. We're trying to keep expectations low so that he's not too disappointed when we tell him "no", and much to his credit, I think he picked up on that. Nonetheless, we toured the property which pretty much solidified our decision. The property was great; the clientele not so much.
We're trudging through the recreation center, around the pool and the putt putt golf course, and I'm seeing people that look like they would be...loud. They all looked like they list their hobbies as "partying" and "gettin hammered". I'm not going to say anything beyond that but you can probably imagine. A lot of them looked like the cast of "My Name is Earl" meets "Jersey Shore".
The tour was punctuated with announcements over the loudspeaker of different families who had just bought their piece of the dream, and where they were choosing to spend their first vacation. The announcer had the exhuberance of a Price is Right contestant, which prompted all the sales people around the property to clap wildly and high-five any fellow sales rep within 5 feet of them upon hearing his contagious enthusiasm.
Finally, we came back to the registration center for the sales pitch. Our sales rep did a fantastic job at showing us around and being a nice person but it just wasn't enough to commit us to vacationing in the same seven locations for the rest of our lives. When he realized he was getting nowhere, he summond the next guy up on the totem poll. This next-in-command sales guy landed at our table like he'd been dropped from the sky. He either needed some ADHD medication or a reduction in coffee intake. Maybe it was the latter because he was chewing vigorously on the only thing that is guaranteed to cover coffee breath, which is Strawberry Bubblicious. It was so strong I could smell it from across the table.
Bubblicious tried the full-court press by whipping out the catalog of destinations offered by their sister company that we could use seemingly any time, any place in a perfect world. I could see that Bubblicious was doing great with my son. He was very impressed with the selection of vacations and color photos of palatial suites that sit practically right on the beach or right at the bottom of the mountain. Trent could hardly believe we were passing up the deal of a lifetime.
Unfortunately for Bubblicious, Trent was not making the decision so it was still a big, fat "no". He went through the seven stages of grieving in the course of about 10 seconds, then told us he'd be back with our paperwork to claim our prizes.
You might think this is the end, but alas, there is a second act. Once you get your paperwork, you are shuffled into the "Awards Center", which is the least maintained building on the property. It's here that you sign in and wait. I don't know if the motif of the room was supposed to be "DMV waiting room" but if it was, they nailed it. I noticed there was a candy machine in the corner, and laughed. Before the tour, the Hershey Miniatures were free and plentiful. Now, they wanted a quarter for each one.
Thirty minutes later, our name was called and Neal was whisked into a back room where I was sure he would be granted one last chance to take advantage of this investment-of-a-lifetime. I was surprised when he emerged 10 minutes later with an American Express gift card and free passes to their water park facility, stress-free.
We felt like we'd been paroled and went straight to the water park. While it was a fun little place, I'm glad we didn't commit to it for the rest of our lives.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
I'm baaaa-aaack!
Wow, I've been absent before, but never for this long. This is embarrassing but it was either (a) reclaim my blog and do some 'splainin, or (b) start a new blog and pretend the other one never existed only to eventually abandon two blogs and take up badly-needed web addresses. If blogs were children, I could eventually become the parental equivalent of an NBA player...just keep makin' em, and leavin' em to fend for themselves.
The reasons I am back are threefold: (1) peer and family pressure (2) New Year's rez, and (3) I can say things on here that I can't say in my newspaper column. Take for instance, the comment about NBA players.
Since September of 2009, I have been a columnist for The Smithville Times, and that has given me the outlet I needed to express myself via the written word but there's only so much I can say about myself and my family in a community publication. I already offer so much information about us that I've had to hire Lifelock to protect our identities from being stolen. (However, just in case the column doesn't get it done, there's always Facebook -- the go-to website that meets your stalking, identity-stealing, and spamming needs all in one location.)
I need a plan I can live with. Something that allows me to post to the blog in reasonable intervals without burning me out. Something that allows me to say what needs to be said without self-censoring.
I think the answer lies in brevity. From now on, if I have something interesting to share that exceeds the length acceptable for a Facebook status, I shall turn to this blog to meet that need. Similarly, if I make an observation that may upset the general Facebook population, I shall use this forum. This is where you will find the thoughts that may not be Facebook appropriate but are not so raw that they need to be expressed to select people via text. I'm not talking vulgarity here, just honesty.
Let's start with some things that have been weighing heavily on me over the past 24 hours in terms of sheer stupidity:
1. CNN is full of pansy sheep. I can't believe they are no longer allowing the use of words like "target" or "crosshairs" or the like in the name of "not inflaming" people. Don't get me wrong, it's their right to do that because they are not a branch of the government and they can run their network however they want, but it's stupid and laughable. No wonder they have no viewers. (Just so you know, I cringe every time I hear Fox anchors use the phrase "homicide bomber" instead of "suicide bomber". That's stupid too.)
2. I don't know how many of you will admit to watching "Teen Mom" or "Teen Mom 2", but some of you have to be. (The show has great ratings so you know who you are!) Anyway, I believe the moral of last night's episode is this: If you are living with the parents of your Baby Daddy and have no other prospects standing between yourself and homelessness, do not (I repeat, DO NOT) change your Facebook status to "In a relationship" when the "relationship" is clearly not with the Baby Daddy. That is failure on a Nancy Pelosi level.
Whew. I feel better now, don't you?
By the way, I'll update photos soon. We don't even have some of the pets shown anymore, and we now have a new one.
We still have both of the kids but they look slightly different.
The reasons I am back are threefold: (1) peer and family pressure (2) New Year's rez, and (3) I can say things on here that I can't say in my newspaper column. Take for instance, the comment about NBA players.
Since September of 2009, I have been a columnist for The Smithville Times, and that has given me the outlet I needed to express myself via the written word but there's only so much I can say about myself and my family in a community publication. I already offer so much information about us that I've had to hire Lifelock to protect our identities from being stolen. (However, just in case the column doesn't get it done, there's always Facebook -- the go-to website that meets your stalking, identity-stealing, and spamming needs all in one location.)
I need a plan I can live with. Something that allows me to post to the blog in reasonable intervals without burning me out. Something that allows me to say what needs to be said without self-censoring.
I think the answer lies in brevity. From now on, if I have something interesting to share that exceeds the length acceptable for a Facebook status, I shall turn to this blog to meet that need. Similarly, if I make an observation that may upset the general Facebook population, I shall use this forum. This is where you will find the thoughts that may not be Facebook appropriate but are not so raw that they need to be expressed to select people via text. I'm not talking vulgarity here, just honesty.
Let's start with some things that have been weighing heavily on me over the past 24 hours in terms of sheer stupidity:
1. CNN is full of pansy sheep. I can't believe they are no longer allowing the use of words like "target" or "crosshairs" or the like in the name of "not inflaming" people. Don't get me wrong, it's their right to do that because they are not a branch of the government and they can run their network however they want, but it's stupid and laughable. No wonder they have no viewers. (Just so you know, I cringe every time I hear Fox anchors use the phrase "homicide bomber" instead of "suicide bomber". That's stupid too.)
2. I don't know how many of you will admit to watching "Teen Mom" or "Teen Mom 2", but some of you have to be. (The show has great ratings so you know who you are!) Anyway, I believe the moral of last night's episode is this: If you are living with the parents of your Baby Daddy and have no other prospects standing between yourself and homelessness, do not (I repeat, DO NOT) change your Facebook status to "In a relationship" when the "relationship" is clearly not with the Baby Daddy. That is failure on a Nancy Pelosi level.
Whew. I feel better now, don't you?
By the way, I'll update photos soon. We don't even have some of the pets shown anymore, and we now have a new one.
We still have both of the kids but they look slightly different.
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