observations at target on my lunch break
Two young girls, probably 9 or 10 years old, were standing on the greeting card aisle oohing and ahing over the prettiest designs on the shelf. In desperation, one of them exclaimed, "Why do grandmas
get all the pretty ones?"
Ah, the ignorance of youth! I wonder: At what age do you finally begin to understand that the pastel flowery cards with cheesy rhyming poetry in scripty fonts are, in fact, the worst picks on the rack? And at what age are you finally old enough to once again revert to thinking they are fantastic, special, desirable treasures to receive from your loved ones? This cycle of life confounds me.Observation #2:
Two adolescents overheard discussing the ichthus...
Boy: I don't get it. What is Christian about a fish? Why is it a fish?
Girl: (Deadly serious) Because Jesus, uh...you know. Jesus ate fish.
Breeds confidence, doesn't it?Observation #3:
A 20-something soon-to-be-aunt stands bewildered on the stationery aisle muttering to herself over which baby shower invitations to pick. "Are these too unisex? Does the yellow rubber ducky motif scream 'SEX OF CHILD STILL UNKOWN'? It's a BOY, people. A really important BOY! Is it so difficult to manufacture cute BOYish invitations? Ugh. NONE of these are cute enough for my nephew. NONE OF THEM, I TELL YOU!!!"
Okay, well, that last one was me but I swear I overheard the rest.
Posted by Poka Bean at 1:58 PM
and now, i grovel
A letter to my BFFs
~ The lovely Undercover Celebrity
, the one and only Starlet
, and the blessed Malin. And actually all of the rest of the female race...I owe you all this apology for breaking the sacred code. ~
I’m writing to plead for your forgiveness because I am about to do the unthinkable. I am going to ditch out on girl plans to hang out with my man.
I know, I know…this is the lowest of low but in my defense I would simply like to remind you that your men live a) in your own home with you and b) a mere 5 miles down the road so getting to see them on a random weeknight is old hat. Not as in BORING, just as in usual, typical, and routine.
‘Tis not so for the Wallace and I so upon his offer to drive up tonight for a spontaneous, mid-week date, I have decided to forsake all others (that would be you) and jump at the chance. I hope you can find it within your hearts to forgive me and I hope that OC night is good, clean fun. Emphasis on the clean part since Marissa is a total lesbian now and the show is going down the tubes along with the rest of society but nonetheless, all hail the Mighty Seth Cohen in all his glory as he is the sole reason the OC lives on in our hearts and in national syndication.
Again, my deepest apologies for breaking the solemn oath of un-married womanhood. I am fully prepared to except my punishment but if we could hold off on it until AFTER tonight’s date, that would be great. Tar and feathers totally don’t go with my outfit.
Desperately seeking your grace (uh yeah, remember that book we just finished?),
Posted by Poka Bean at 10:30 AM
wisdom i would like to impart to my readers
If Cox Communications is your internet/email provider and your email address ends in "@cox.net", take the time to carefully spell this out for the J Crew customer service representative helping you on the phone.
Cox Communications is not everywhere in the states so the representative may never have heard of it. Be sure to spell out C-O-X nice and slow for them lest they mistake the ending of your email address for a dirty word and then force you to suffer through The Longest Moment in the History of Catalog Phone Orders by slowing guessing aloud how they think it is spelled for you to confirm (or in my case, deny).
It is acceptable to point wildly at the phone receiver, jump up and down in silent laughter, and pee a little in your pants while mouthing "OH MY GOSH" repeatedly to your fiance across the room as long as you keep your voice calm, cool, and collected for the dirty representative. Do not break out into uncontrollable laughter until you hang up the phone.
Posted by Poka Bean at 2:05 PM
the other white meat
As I sit here downing my 5th leftover rib from today's lunch meeting (no speeding ticket on the way to pick it up this week, thank you very much), I am wondering why I haven't eaten more ribs in my life. Why, why, WHY
Why have I not made it a point to consume more of these tender, barbeque-y morsels of juicy, meaty goodness since I first cut teeth and started eating solids?
Why have I forsaken this sloppy, scrumptious meat for so long for that of the cow, or more completely boring, the chicken?
Sweet hallelujah, this stuff is good. HEAR MY WORDS, people. Investigate The Rib and embrace it's magical wonder forever and always.
Posted by Poka Bean at 1:29 PM
recipe for disaster with a side of shame and spinning
(Yields 1 serving of unhappy lady)
1 part official diagnosis of Vertigo with associated spinning, headache, and wooziness - finely chopped with no end in sight
1 part rush to pick up lunch for office meeting - peeled and crushed
1 part bored police officer - jelly filled
Mix all ingredients in food processor until smooth. Pour mixture into jelly roll pan and bake at 375 until brown on top. Allow to cool, then take out pen and scribble speeding citation on top of baked mixture.
Serve to disoriented Vertigo patient with a side of shame and spinning. Enjoy!
Posted by Poka Bean at 2:23 PM