Sam’s Ministrations on Life

holy crap the breakfast club is on. is this not one of the greatest movies of all times? I think everyone at some point in their life has wanted to be stuck in detention like that. I know, I know, you’re saying that I probably know nothing about detetnion… and that would be true (unless of course you count the one detention I got for talking too much in class, that one does seem pretty believable). if you had been stuck in detention who would you have wanted to be there with… or rather who would you have been? I think I’d be a cross between the nerdy blonde kid or Molly Ringwolds character. I was never either that big a nerd or that popular either, I was an in-betweener I guess. what was it about Molly, was she ever even that cute? maybe you have to like redheads. even if she wasn’t cute though I still wanted to be her, and the fact that she is able to apply lipstick from her cleavage is incredibly impressive. maybe I could actually land myself a hottie with some impressive talent like that. emilio estevez is pretty hot in this thing too. damned if I’m not sitting here at 25 wishing I could be 17 and in detetntion… in the 80s. ugh.

now the more important question is would I have fallen for the bad boy or the jock. sadly enough I would probably say the jock… I’ve always had a thing for guys that are active… I guess I like the constant reminder that I am not at all active. no, seriously though I’m trying… I keep trying to convince my guy friends to teach me how to be a more outdoorsy girl… ya know, white water rafting, tubing, fly-fishing, mudbogging, camping…. oh, and there was something called froggigging that they wanted me to do but I had to pass. it’s a straight up southern thing where you go out in the middle of the night with flashlights, head down to the creek, and then stab frogs with sticks, take them home and eat them. maybe that’s a little too extreme for me. I’m worried that I would come home that night, and my creepy-ass frogs (misguided birthday present two years ago) would know what I’d done. they’d climb out of their aquarium, padding across the rug on their webbed feet. just as the smell of swamp would reach my nose my eyes would open and the last thing I would see would be beady black eyes, and feet with mini-claws.

I love working with all these southern, honkey, rednecks at the office. you never know what will come out of their mouths. I would also have to say that I didn’t realize there are so many different southern dialects either. I would say the strongest is a tie between southern Georgia (like in the swamps) and Mississippi. Here is one of my favorite swamp logic thoughts on life:
“Man, that’s more difficult than sqeezin a beebee in a duck’s butt.”
These guys take two things more seriously than life:
- college football (bulldogs, tigers, gators, wildcats…), &
- pork… as in BBQ, roast, ribs, sandwiched…. and on and on goes the list
(their ability to win a war against the north is a short runner up)

Travelling

So, I’ve been travelling a lot lately… I am of two minds about this whole travelling business. On one hand I tend to have to work fewer hours than if I was actually at work… so that’s about 2 hours then. It breaks up the otherwise monotonous day in day out of work… actually I’m kidding on that point I get to do some pretty cool stuff usually. You get to eat on the companies dime… “steak?, yes please, and do you have any lobster?”

On the other hand I shall now list for you the sad things I have to do to occupy my time in such exotic locations as Port St. Lucie, FL, and Fayetteville, NC. A small sampling of the cool that makes up my life:
- watching crappy teen programs like Falcon Beach on ABC Family (I know can you freakin believe it, they deal with such deep topics as wakeboarding and cappucino machines) or dating shows like Next or Elimidate (it’s a guarnteed fact that the girl that shows the most skin and is willing to jump down the guys throat is going to be the one chosen… an extra bonus if she makes out with one of the other contestants)
- organizing my ipod playlists… you never know when you will want to listen to such playlists as “Guys suck… music of female empowerment”, “Booty-shakin music”, “Power ballads to sing badly to in the car”, then I’ll through on the ipod set it to shuffle and dance around the room in my underwear (blinds closed first of course)
- peeling of all my nailpolish (cause it would be too smart to actually bring remover) and then painting them back the same color they were before
- hemming any and all things that need it… this may be letting the secret out of the bag, but I’m short, so no pants actually fit me in length… don’t tell anyone, this is just between you and me
- ironing… I know it doesn’t really make sense to iron stuff and then fold it up and shove it back in a suitcase, but seriously if I don’t do it now it will never get done
- doing crossword puzzles and logic problems… I get the big magazine full of them at the airport and then go through it… sometimes I cheat, how sad is that, cheating on yourself
- I’ll play extensive games of minesweeper and solitaire, attempting to beat my own score
- calling everyone in my phone
- reading my horoscope, reading the horoscope of people I have a crush on, reading the compatability rating of mine and my crushes horoscopes… apparently I am a difficult person to get along with and I often speak before I’ve thought through things… no shit, open mouth, insert foot
- updating my myspace and then stalking other people on the internet… I’ve actually found that when you go looking for stuff on the internet you might find out things you really didn’t want to know, but that doesn’t really stop my masochistic tendancies
- working out… oh wait, that one’s a lie
- reading everything from a book to seeing what the sex advice is in Cosmo (ya know they’ve been saying the same damn things in that magazine since I was 17, but I still keeping buying it hoping that some big secret will finally be revealed and I will be able to “blow his mind” or “be the woman he’ll never forget”… of course this all hinges on the fact that I still need to find someone to participate in this with me)… I’ve thought about opening the Gideon bible and finding salvation, but I just go back to picking at my nail polish
- trying out new beauty techniques and investigating every pore on my face… this one only happens when all the other options have been run through

So now that I have wowed you all with the large number of things you can do in a hotel room while travelling on business (the things I’ll write about anyway) I hope you all feel inspired to come up with your own weird things to do. I actually hope this is making you brainstorm about your own life rather than sit there feeling a wave of pity for the sadness that has become my day to day routine.

Personal Appearance

you have gold jewelry of any kind really

you wear Drakar Noir

you have owned anything acid washed after the 80s

you own tapered leg jeans

you wear cut-off jean shorts

you wear shorts or pants in any shade of pastel possibly with little martinis, alligators, golf balls, etc. on them

you wear sunglasses inside or at night

you wear a vest, sweater or otherwise for anything other than tux appropriate events

you have a mullet or rattail

you wear a baseball hat that doesnt sit fully on your head

you walk around with your arms away from your side because your muscles are too big to be able to put them down any further

you still take out the letter jacket and wear it around sometimes

you have a tongue ring

you have had/given a visible hickey after the age of 17

Vehicle Specific

your base arrives before you do

your high school graduation tassel is still hanging from your rear-view mirror

you have a vanity plate

you have more than one sticker from your undergrad on your car aka your car is referred to as the Dawg Pound by your friends

Personality

you have given yourself a nickname only friends are allowed to assign you a nickname, and more than just you and that person have to frequently call you that aka the Asian Sensation

you have nicknamed your group of friends ie. The Pimpmaster Seven

you brag every Monday about how wasted you got the weekend before

you have ever complained when a girl makes you a meal because it is interfereing in your lifting diet

you are taking steroids and are not a major athlete wait does that mean its okay if you are a major athlete?

you still relive your high school/college sports career

you have never left your hometown for more than the four-eight years you were in college and the hardest deicision you have to make during the week is which towny bar to go to

Female Dbaggery otherwise known as Douchebaggettery

Personal Appearance

you make a point of not wearing a bra this is only okay if you are a feminist and are deeply opposed to the male imposition upon your body (these women are in their own category of strange)

you have owned anything taperd or acid-washed after 1989

you are still rocking the claw, aka the overly large bangs we all had in high school

you have ever been accused of having cameltoe

you have a lower back tattoo that runs symmetrically from the middle of your spine to the side of your hips in a non-distinct swirly pattern

you own anything with clear heels

your thong is visible to the general population

you have worn granny panties AND other people have noticed

you have ever left your house knowing full well that you are wearing colored underwear underneath something white

you own or have ever worn thonged bathing attire

you have fake-tanned, or sat in a tanning bed so long that you are now a shade of tangelo

you own/wear a perfume by any pop star aka Jlo, Britney, Beyonce, etc

you have a tongue ring

you have had/given a visible hickey after the age of 17

Vehicle

you have stupid shit hanging from your rearview mirror or your gear shift, this may include dolphins, heart-shaped anything, fuzzy dice, graduation tassels, and mardi gras beads (oh crap that just put me on the list)

you have animal print seat or steering wheel covers

you have any kind of sticker in your rear windshield with flowers, or a mention of how hot you are, or that you are a princess, etc

you have a vanity plate

you have an air freshener that knocks people off their ass when they open the car door with the scent of strawberries, tropical islands, coconut, whatever

you smoke especially those fancy ass colored cigarettes, or flavored crap

Please respond to this with any additional examples you can think of… apparently this is critical information as I am supposed to review these rules before each new date so I can be sure I am not dating another douchebag.

See attached link first to understand the basic definition.

So, that’s what’s up with me right now… total douchebaggery. Not on my end of course… I’m always a complete angel. Well, not always . But I’ve been single for how long… less than a year? and I’m already sick of guys. It’s all stupid bullshit games. Oh, I like you, I’ve had a crush on you forever, your personality is just so intimidating, I’ve always thought you were cute… and then it changes to… I’ve got my own problems I’m dealing with now, it’s not you, yada, yada, yada. Listen dude, don’t give me crap lines, when I said let’s just be friends I meant, let’s just be friends, not I would like to get in a serious relationship. When did “Do you wanna grab some pizza?” turn into “Do you wanna settle down and start a goddamn family.” Refreakindiculous.

Anyway… you might be commiting douchebagery if:
Appearance:
you have fake baked within the last few months/years/ever
you have one earring… possibly with bling
you can’t leave the house w/out dousing your body in Bod or Polo Sport
you wear a white college hat (like one that says Cocks)
you wear a visor
you wear an “outfit” that matches head to toe… like all Adidas
you use enough gel to need a new bottle on a bi-weekly basis
you have a tongue ring/nipple piercings/Prince Albert
you have a tatoo of barbed wire/tribal symbols/a confederate flag/asian characters
you have worn a wifebeater out in public when heading anyplace other than the gym
you wear a pinky ring or any ring that has bling or is connected between fingers, or you are still rocking you high school/college ring
you wear a thick chain in either silver or gold with a big cross (when you haven’t been to church in years),or with your high school football number or just any charm in general
you have worn a puka shell necklace in the past 3 years and have never been on a surfboard or lived on the beach
you have worn a moustache when in reality you are incapable of growing more than a few sad hairs at one time… we call this a “ratstache”
you are still wearing a trucker hat with the mesh in the back
you cant tie your own tie

Vehicle:
you drive a Camaro/Firebird/muscle car/Japanese sportcar/truck either lowered or with a lift
you have a wing on the back of your car
you have neon lights under/anywhere on your car
you have spinners
you have an exhaust pipe enlargement
you have any of the following stickers on your car… a flag of a country you were not born in/a saying in a foreign language you don’t speak/Calvin pissing on anything/a hunting or fishing sticker
you have anything airbrushed on your front license plate
you ride a crotchrocket… especiacially if your clothes and helmet match

Personality:
you own on DVD/have a poster of Scarface/the Godfather/Rambo/Rocky
you have worked as a male stripper
you have gotten in a fight with a random stranger in public after the age of 19
you have done a keg stand/shotgunned/funnelled a beer after the age of 25

things I consider to be personal acts of douchebaggery which may not be offensive to all women:

-talking about liking “curvy” women when in reality you only ever check out/talk about skinny bitches
-talking about other women you think are hot in front of me in general
-going hot and cold in how you feel about someone… either you like them as a person or you don’t… don’t waste my time
-claiming you like when a girl is aggressive and goes after what she wants and then freaking out when she actually does
-saying that you like my sarcasm and then not being able to deal with my biting sense of humor
-saying you like a smart woman and then being intimidated by her brain
-giving some bullshit excuse/no excuse at all for not hanging out when asked to do something
-only acknowledging a girls presence when you think you might get some… and the rest of the time just pretending she doesn’t exist, dude I figured it out… and maybe I’m just using you

Seattle Part 2

Day 3:
So we woke up, or should I say I woke up and ran around the house on Eastern Standard Time yelling for everyone else to get up. Apparently that does not thrill my friends when they’re deep in a REM cycle, but it got their asses up anyway. Megan made us delicious chocolate chip pancakes while Lauren and I tried to make ourselves presentable on a limited amount of products… sorry guys, here goes the mystery, I don’t just wake up like this (please, do not insert comments here about the fact that I don’t look much better after the application of products). We headed down to the ferry and went to sit in 4 ungodly freakin hours of border traffic. I mean seriously, who the hell is trying to get into Canada over Memorial day. Well, apparently everyone. I doubt I would have minded so much had I known ahead of time that our border crossing/mountie was actually a stripper in training… I mean the guy was jacked, fake-baked, and if my guess serves me right, toting a boom box behind the counter with a Guns N Roses cd. Oh, you can strip search me all right, maybe I am trying to smuggle something into the land up north, you find out.

Anyways, we got up to Vancouver… which is more like some kind of Marvel comic city with every glass building looking the same. We met my uncle for coffee and paninies and then headed to a lecture based on the exhibition he helped curate. I’ve never heard so many US jokes… and I have to say I laughed at most of them. Oh those wacky Canadians. Then we walked down to the Gas Lamp district where Megan proceeded to slam her head into a glass pane window while ogling a pair of red cowboy boots effectively putting an end to our evening after she was consumed by a massive headache. I liken it to a bird running into a storm window to get to the shiny things inside your house. Sam, that’s me, proceeds to have mini-tantrum because she is not aloud to go dancing and then goes to sleep on the floor… not out of anger mind you but because we reserved the wrong type of beds and there was no way I was about to snuggle up next to a girl on a twin sized bed that has been snuggling with her boyfriend on a regular basis… sorry, I had my chance for that crap at Wellesley.

Day 4:
Yada, yada… Vancouver Art Gallery exhibition, good coffee and crazy bear statues everywhere… crazy Canadians. Duty free on the way back which meant my crazy ass veggie friends decided that they would of course buy salmon jerky. I’m sorry dude, but as a non-seafood person I don’t know how you all do it… in fact I feel a little bad for guys in general if you know what I mean. My gag reflex was strongly affected and I had to stick my head out the window for the majority of the ride. So of course to combat this I had to get beef jerky and the largest bar of chocolate ever… it was in Canadian dollars, eh. All that dehydrated goodness just combined to make me feel queasy, along with Lauren’s new hipster/girl-angst taste in music.

So when we arrived I got to see the side of Seattle I always knew was there. That’s right… ‘those damn hippies’. They came out in full force for Folkfest. Wow, talk about patullie, utili-kilts (aka man-skirts), dreads, tie-dye, and more bongo drums than you can shake a stick at. Freaks. Including the one I was with, Megan, who insisted in her typical clapping, please-please-please voice that I get my face painted with her… in fact I should go first. So we sat in line, waiting for two girls to get done until I was up to bat. Granted there were a couple of very eager looking toddlers waiting in line behind but I was like, “Hell no bitches, you know how long I’ve been in this line, step off diapers while the big girl handles her biz.” So of course after my child intimidation tactics I asked for a butterfly mask with extra sparkle. Megan got a fairy. I have to add that it was half-way through my face-painting that I was reminded of the fact that we were going to the largest theater in the city to see X-men right after. I’ve never got such strange and envious looks, like “Wow, she really loves this movie… maybe a bit too much, Mystique wanna be.” I sported that butterfly with pride.