I Was Wrong.

I admit it: I was wrong.  I thought that the Budweiser commercial continuance would get all sassy and feature a woman.  (Come on, Bud is owned by InBev, so it’s European – shouldn’t we get a racy commercial?!?)

Nope, it features Cowboy Scraggles, who turns into Cowboy Singalong with a Bud…with a 1971 song, you know, Nixon-era.  Perhaps this was a tribute to bad karaoke?  Budweiser, please focus on the Clydesdales or revert to the frogs.  If you need to shake things up, this is not the way to go.  Nobody in my viewing group was impressed.  Had you gone with a sassy broad?  Well, you might have captivated half the room…

If you want to see the commercial, you can find it here

Cold Weather Survival Tip: Thinking of Others

This post is inspired by 90% of status updates on facebook.  I share with you select wisdom of my mother:

1.) It is cold outside, you are correct.

2.) It is January and you live in the tundra.  What did you expect?

3.) Everyone else in the tundra is cold too.  These negative temperatures do not just affect you.

4.) Whining about the weather will neither make you any warmer nor endear you to others.  (I have been alerted that some folks feel solidarity with others and bond over the cold temps.  Fine, you might feel solidarity, but I bet you don’t feel warm.)

5.) Buck up.  Find something to do.

Winter Survival Tip #1

I live in the tundra, where winters are long, cold, and harsh.  The lack of daylight, biting winds, and frigid temperatures are hard on both my complexion and my emotional state.  One of my former coaches would likely refer to this extended season as “an exercise in mental toughness.”  However, always lived in places where I spend way more on snowboots than swimsuits and scarves are for function versus fashion.  I believe this makes me qualified to dole out some advice – a WINTER SURVIVAL TIP, likely the first of many I will share.  Let me be your “Get Through This Guru.”

This week’s weather report for my zip code is rather depressing.  Basically, if at any point, I walk outside with wet hair, my hair will freeze.  This does not put me in my happy place.  This puts me in a place where I question why I do not own a hairdryer and potentially puts me in a place that sells hairdryers.*   I tell myself this also means I could totally flood my backyard and go ice skating; but I also need a bit more. 

My Head Shows My Age

I “did” my hair a little differently than usual today, which meant some normally hidden hairs made their way to the top layer.  My normally response to non-conformist hairs is to pull them out.  Today, however, they received a reprieve as I was tired and their numbers were strong.  Instead, I am going to try to remarket them to myself.  Here are some ideas:

1.) Sparkly hairs – sort of like hair glitter for the over-30 crowd.   (Except I had my first sparkly hair in eighth grade.)

2.) SHINY hairs – who doesn’t like shiny things?  Shiny like money or jewelry.

3.) Open-minded hairs – let the top of my head be a symbol of racial equality.

4.) Way to get a bus seat hairs - the sign says to stand for the elderly.

I think I might be onto something.  Interestingly, the chemicals from hair coloring did not inspire any of these ideas.  I am just not ready to go there.

Five Weak Excuses For My Silence

So, um, I haven’t been posting much lately.  I’ve started a few posts, but haven’t gotten around to finishing them yet.  Here are five poor excuses for my silence, along with their debunktion.

1.) Oh, I am so busy!  I started a new job and it involves all sorts of new job-y stuff.  Yeah, a new part-time job.

2.) I am searching for other jobs AND studying to open educational opportunities. True, but I am doing those things when I’m not frittering my time away.

3.) Oh, but I am so tired!  So tired!  So tired!  LE TIRED.  Sounds like time to better strategize my coffee and soda opportunities.   While I am an eight hours per night person, there are sixteen other hours each day.   I work little more than sixteen hours per work.

4.) Nothing exciting is going on.  This is different from usual how?

5.) I’m hungry.  Great.  How many food-related posts have I started?

Occupational Hazard

I find a lot of interesting “treats” in my pockets when I do laundry.   One of my “tricks” with the kid when he finds something small that he can’t possibly risk losing is to offer to put it in my pocket and he can “remind me” when he wants it back.  (Sometimes I just take it out if it is an annoying shape/size/gross.)  I just threw in a load of laundry with half a dozen pairs of pants.  Treasures from my pockets included: environmentally-friendly chapstick (mine), fifty-seven cents, two miniature Uno cards (blue 8 and green reverse), a hotel key card, three tissues (at least two unused), two raisins, and a sticker of a bus.  I kept the money and the chapstick; the rest went to the trash.

The one in which I whine

I am sick; I hate it.  Given that I work at The Germ Factory, it’s pretty inevitable that I will bring some “work” home with me on occasion…I just loathe those occasions. I am typing this from my bed, humidifier running, and juice AND water within reach – along with tissues and cough drops.  Today’s Advil intake probably reached double digits before the o’clock did and I’m unable to report how many I consumed as, well, I DON’T HAVE A CLUE.  When I started to hurt too much again and it seemed like it’d been “awhile enough,” I took more – usually to the tune of 600mg or 800mg.  I may or may not have exceeded the suggested maximum daily dosage today.  Fortunately, due to some recent lab work, I know my kidneys are top notch and able to handle it.  If I still feel crappy tomorrow, I am going to circumvent this irresponsibility on my part and count out a “maximum daily dosage” into a separate bottle and only pull from that.  Win.  I spent about six hours today dressed in real clothes to go to a beer tasting (I’m serious; I’d really been looking forward to it!) and dinner with some friends, where I ate Jewish Penicillin.  Given that I can see a synagogue from my front stoop, it isn’t hard to hook up with some good matzo ball soup.  My childhood of ham buns, Jell-O salads, and church lady hot dishes leads me to believe that if more people based their religious affiliation on the eats, there would be a lot more Jews.