Sunday, January 23, 2011

Just Some Things To Think About


Generally speaking, I'm a pretty smart girl. I can't do math in my head and I ended up in Cleveland once on my way home to Dayton -- from Columbus -- but outside of arithmetic and geography I can pretty much hold my own. 

But tonight some flaky girl I hardly know made a comment on my Facebook page about how she doesn't "get girls who like sports." Aside from being a weirdly rude thing to write on the Facebook page of someone -- a girl -- you barely know and who clearly likes sports, I realized I'm completely confused by girls who don't like sports. Not offended by them or anything (except for maybe that one), but just sort of sad for them. 

So then I started thinking about other things that confuse me. 

In no particular order and hardly exhaustive, here is my list. I should note, most of these apply directly to me.

People who call in to a hotline to vote "I have no opinion on that."

People who say "It's me" when they call or leave a voice mail. (I do this at least once a day.)

When traffic cops stand in the middle of an intersection at rush hour and just tell people to go with the light.

Magnets that don't hold anything on the refrigerator.

Bad, seriously bad, television. The people who watch it, the people who make it, the people who "act" in it, all of it very, very bad. 

People who don't get just a little bit, just the slightest tinge of, melancholy at the holidays. 

Fat people who come to the gym just to go tanning.

How all church people can sing.

Why I hate wearing pantyhose, except for those first few seconds when I'm pulling them on. For those few seconds, I feel more like a woman than almost any other time. It's one of the most feminine, timeless things you can do, really.

How quickly I can get over that femininity by cussing like a sailor when I put them on wrong and they're all twisted around my calf like a tourniquet and I have them on differently than the last time I wore them so the toes are funky and backwards. Why they can’t put a clearly marked tag in pantyhose? Every other piece of clothing has a designated front and back.

How I have the same body loathing complex I did in high school, only NOW I look at pictures of myself from THEN and realize I weighed 7 pounds LESS than my current goal weight.

The expression "It is what it is." That just seems like an unhelpful waste of breath.

People who don't understand the depth of Jimmy Buffett, the soul of Joe vs. the Volcano, or why sports are so fucking awesome.  

Michigan fans, Red Sox fans, and  people who hate New York City.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Meeting Minutes of The Lunch Ones: January

*Meeting originally called for 12:00. Meeting moved to 11:30 because we're all hungry pigs.

*The Tiny One held up meeting start six minutes, by trying to cook her food in the crowded microwave room 30 seconds at a time.

*The Funny One decided that The Cute One* needed to immediately change her status update to “single and ready to mingle” and then go mingle. Leading to discussions including, but not limited to:
          *Can the oldest and the youngest among us mingle in the same spots?
          *The pros and cons of online dating.
          *How long it would take TCO, or any of us, to get Ruffied if we followed TFO's dating advice.
          *TFO’s thoughts on how slutty she would be if she was single.

Which led to...

*The Blonde One feeling compelled to speak up when TFO demanded TCO explain the current state of her cherry.

*Some confusion as to whether TCO is a virgin or not. TCO herself seems... unsure.

*The Number discussion, after I blurted my discovery from last night: I’m Facebook friends with more than half of my Number. The number ranged from unsure (TCO, see above) to two (I’ll never tell) to unsure (TFO, for very different reasons than TCO).

Which led to...

*Discussion on who among us were good girls, and who were less than. Four of five agreed that we were all good girls, TFO being the only, and obvious, exception. Rather than disputing our findings, TFO told a story about schlongs.

*Horrible, ugly laughter (me, again) when TCO expressed confusion, requiring an explanation (graphic) that schlongs are not, in fact, male underwear ("I thought a shlong was, you know, like, a thong for a guy"). TCO now familiar with the term “banana hammock” and charged with finding one appropriate way to use it in a sentence before our next meeting.

*Discussion on facial hair (male) prompted by unidentified, questionably cute, hairy-faced boy entering the cafeteria. TCO and TBO, against. TTO, depends on the man and the amount of scruffiness. TFO, totally for: “The dirtier the better.” No surprise there.

General consensus and overall takeaway: sex is way more fun to talk about at lunch than poop.


*Formerly known as The Baby One. Too much confusion with two TBOs. Started to call her The Little One, but since there’s already a Tiny One I was afraid readers would think I was lunching at a daycare center or with midgets. Also, no titles here are meant to imply that each of these girls is not, in her own right, funny, tiny, or cute. They are all equally funny, tiny, and cute. But only The Blonde One is blonde.