Oy With the Poodles Already!

If you don't realize that came from Gilmore Girls, please rent all seven seasons and educate yourself. It's completely necessary for your mental health.

As much as I would love to write an entire post/blog about Gilmore Girls, this actually has nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

You see, I'm a english major. I pretty much live in Park Hall. Due to being an english major and sharing Park Hall with the linguistics program and the classics department, there are loads of interesting characters. Seriously, jockers, stoners, preps, and hipsters abound! Mostly, there are just way too many hipsters. Hipsters love an excuse to read Jack Kerouac, so they become english majors. It's actually really unfortunate.

Anyway, I was in my Language in Contact class last Friday, and there's this guy (a ginger, actually) who sits two desks behind me. He shall be referred to as Dude, since Homeboy is already taken. So Dude is kind of a loud talker, and I'm kind of nosey. Seriously, if you don't want this chick to hear your conversation, don't talk about it at a bajillion decibels.

I think I should set the scene for you so this is clear.

Dude is a ginger, and he has a beard. Plus, he's a little husky...like mountain man husky. For realsies, he wears flannel. How can I not make lumberjack comparisons? If you like mountain men, let me know. He's looking for someone, as you will see from below.

Yes, I know this is Zachy Galifianakis. 

But imagine his hair super bright red and him a little younger, and you basically have Dude.

So now that you know what Dude looks like, this conversation might make more sense. Now, before I reveal what he said, I just want to clarify that I don't think Dude is ugly or even unattractive really. However, girls at my school aren't loving beards. Especially ginger beards. Although how fun would it be to say, "I'm dating the Ginger beard man!" I know, I'm so funny.

Ok so Dude was talking to his friend. Let's call her Stacy.

Dude: Man, I am so tired of being alone! I want a dog. Guys with dogs get all the chicks!

Stacy: Awww, how cute! What kind of dog do you want?

Dude: Anything miniature, like a teacup poodle. 

INSERT: Um, dude, chicks don't like guys with miniature anything. Get a boxer, ASAP!

Stacy: Umm, I don't think you'd like a poodle. Or anything small, really.

Dude: Ok, fine. I have the greatest idea ever. A TEACUP PIG!

Seriously, he exclaimed this. The whole class was interested. No less than 5 people asked at once, "where the eff do you get a teacup pig"? I was too appalled to ask question. I liked Babe and all, but I don't want my pet to see me eat its cousins. Why would a husky lumberjack give up bacon?! It boggles my mind. 

Yes, I clearly think about the important stuff in life: food.

Just in case you were wondering, he really is getting one of these:

I think they're kind of cute. But I wouldn't find a guy more attractive if he had one.

And I cannot even imagine the smell. Oh em gee, I die!

I Like Scaring the Eff Out of People

There are a few stores parents should never bring children into. These are not stores with power tools that could hurt the little mutants, because those power tools are the ish to any child. Girl or boy, it doesn't matter. Power tools are shiny and make loud noises. Crack for children.

No, the stores children should not be brought into are boring. There's nothing for kids to do. Victoria's Secret, Tuesday Morning, and Stein Mart are the top ones that come to mind.

When I was a child, my mum took me to Stein Mart a lot. I don't know why. Stein Mart's clothes are classy, sure, for an 80-year old. But there is absolutely nothing for kids to do, except hide in racks.

See, the wondiferous racks of Stein Mart are circular and have plenty of space for kids to fit in. So I would hide in the rack, wait for my mother to pick up a lovely blouse, and then grab out at her arm.

"Oh, this is pretty! I should go try it on," my mum would say.

Then she'd pick it up, and my arm would dart out to grab it like lightning.

Then my mother would be pissed because I scared her.

And then we'd leave Stein Mart and go get ice cream. My life was complete.

The Dutch Have the Worst Ideas

In the South, we like barbeque. If you're from Memphis, you know BBQ only means pulled pork shoulder. It does not, under any circumstances, mean grilled chicken brushed with Kroger barbeque sauce. If that's what you think BBQ is, get out of my face. I legit can't look at you.

Now, I'm one of those people who likes pulled pork sandwiches. I think they're effing delicious, especially since I only eat them twice a year (because my family are BBQ snobs, and the BBQ here is, um, not something my dog would eat if we had a dog not good.)

But unlike a certain member of my family (oh hell, I'm going to call her out. Nan, I am talking to you. Except not, because you still can barely use your computer and have no idea I have a blog.), I do not like any other condiments on my BBQ sandwiches besides, obviously, BBQ sauce. It's weird how that works, right? BBQ sauce on BBQ? It's like fate. Wyrd. (See what I did there? Old English humor. I rock.)

Anyway, my nana likes a certain condiment that I cannot stand: koolsalade. You've never heard of that word, most likely. It's Dutch for 'cabbage salad.' In the South, this means cole slaw, the most disgusting fucking side dish ever.


It has cabbage, carrots, and mayonnaise. How could it get any effing worse?

Look at that amazing BBQ sandwich. Doesn't it look super delicious? Oh, but they effed up with the side of coleslaw. Ridiculous.

Another thing that disgusts me about coleslaw is the scene in Never Been Kissed where Rob declares himself "The Coleslaw King of the World." And you know who played Rob, right? 

Yes, David Arquette played Rob. Doesn't that make it worse?

It's official: the Dutch have the worst ideas. None of this would have ever happened if they just left cabbage out of salad.

Trivia Etiquette

I play trivia every Friday. I love the people, and I love the atmosphere, and I love challenging my brain.

However, I have issues with the way some people play trivia. In fact, they play it wrong. I would go so far as to say some of these people deserve a bitch slap because they're making trivia look bad. Like Magic: The Gathering on steroids. For the record, that game is the worst game ever. No offense.

So these are the rules of trivia etiquette:

1. Don't ask to join another team. If I invite you because I feel bad you're by yourself, feel welcome to join if you'd like! But if I don't offer, don't ask. It makes it super awk for me, and it makes me cranky. Cranky K = hell.

2. Do not ring an effing bell or yell after you answer a question correctly. Depending on your team, you look arrogant or stupid. Also, trivia is usually done in smaller spaces. I don't want to hear screams from every corner of the small space. My ears thank you in advance.

3. Don't argue with the trivia master. He knows more than you do. And he will take it out on other teams when aggravated. And then I'll want to slap the eff out of you.

I'm sure there are more, but these get on my last. effing. nerve.

Blech

So just a couple of things:

1. I have a pretty long paper due in the morning. I'm writing about homosexuality in The Maltese Falcon. The movie has this handsome guy in it. I'm pretty sure I've introduced you before, yeah?

2. I would like your ideas about what to post about. I want something y'all are going to care about. Apparently, not many people want to know about my crows' feet. Give me an idea, and I'll do my best to make it funny. Except for bodily functions. Those are never funny.

Horrified

On days that I have classes, I get up ridiculously early. It's dark as fuck outside, to be exact. Since I have to wake up so early, I generally just put on my clothes, put my vitamuffin in the toaster, and rush out the door. I don't put makeup on until I'm sitting in the parking lot waiting for the campus bus.

So my makeup routine on these days is:

1. Redness relief daily protective base: I don't do this with a mirror, because I'm not dumb and don't need to see where my face ends.

2. Almost Makeup foundation: I just found out Clinique has discontinued this, and I am effing pissed. This stuff is wonderful. It evens out my complexion, but doesn't feel heavy. I love it.

3. Concealer: You're probably asking yourself why I put on concealer after I put on foundation? Well, because everyone who told you to put it on before is a moron lied to you. It completely defeats the purpose to conceal before foundation. Highlight, yes. Conceal, no.

4. Bronzer: I use the peony one from Clinique, and it is the most amazing thing ever. I forgot to wear it one day, and I really did look like a zombie. It was so horrible. I never forget now.

5. Eyeliner/eyeshadow: This varies day to day. But I will say that I just started using Sephora brand eyeliner, and it's pretty legit.

Then I put on chapstick, but that isn't important enough to count.

So why was I horrified?

I'm almost too horrified to let people know that I have this problem. But my life is public now since I'm a certified blogger. Seriously, the blogger powers-that-be sent me a certificate via snail mail. 

I have crows' feet, and I'm only 20 years young. 

Yes, isn't it horrifying?

For the record, this is what my eyes looked like before today:

My parents say that my eyes just crease, and I don't have crows' feet. But I do know that Ponds Cold Cream and I are going to become best friends.

By the way, I'm totally not sure why my eyes look grey in the second picture and really green in the first. It must've been the light.

Top 8 Favorite Current Shows

I really like TV. Like a lot. At any given moment when I'm not in school, the television is on. Sometimes I'm not really even watching, but most of the time I know exactly what's going on. I LOVE TELEVISION. Is that clear yet?

So I thought I'd list my top 10 favorite television shows. But since I love television, that was pretty hard to make a list. Then I decided I'd do shows I'm currently watching, so if it's on in the summer, I haven't listed it. All of these shows are on the air right now, and you should be watching all of them. Also, though I absolutely love Big Love, I didn't list it because not everyone has HBO (like me), and I am not currently watching it. I watch it when it comes out on DVD.

8. Tabatha's Salon Takeover: Tabatha is such a ball buster, and I love her for that. She doesn't take crap from anyone. It's a reality show, but Tabatha is good enough to make up for it.

7. Top Chef: I have watched this show since it started. I love food, and I love competition. How could this show not be a favorite? Also, I think Tom is kind of cute in a big baldy sort of way. AND HE CAN MAKE GOOD FOOD!

6. Greek: This show started my senior year of high school. I was so excited because Greek made it look so awesome. My college experience hasn't been all fun and games, but this show still makes me nostalgic for the college experience I wanted to have.

5. Degrassi: Can I just say how glad I am this show got good again? Munro Chambers, Landon Leboiron, and Charlotte Arnold were the breath of life this show needed. Yes, it's sometimes kitschy but generally relevant, and that can make up for a lot.

4. How I Met Your Mother: WHO THE EFF IS THE MOTHER? I want to meet her already, and I watch every week to patch together clues. Also, Jennifer Morrison is wonderful. I wished they would have waited and made her the mother.

3. Gossip Girl: This show literally gets better every week. I know not many people love it as much as I do (except for Ams!!), but those people don't have any idea what good television is. Pretty people, fun drama, and amazing clothes every single week. What could be better?

2. Community: I'm actually really bummed I have to put this second. I'm also really sad that I can never watch it at the time it actually airs because it competes with my ultimate favorite show. But the writing and acting on this show is AMAZING. They're all incredibly talented, and I'm not even interested in any romantic relationships. If you know me, you know this shows how great this show really is.

1. Big Bang Theory: BEST. SHOW. EVER. I can't even describe it otherwise. I love Sheldon. I love Penny. I even love Howard Wolowitz. Don't judge. Watch this show.

My Generation is a Big Pile of Slackerdom

I procrastinate. When a paper is announced, I sit idly by and think about it vaguely as I watch the newest episode of Degrassi. This is just the way it happens.

For some people it might be How I Met Your Mother (Best Friend BW) or it might be chatting online with your favorite pen pals (Ams & also me). But every person in my generation procrastinates until the very. last. second. Deadline, schmedline! I can do this in 30 seconds before class begins.

<INSERT PANIC HERE>

I did this last night, and I did it this morning. In the end, I still pulled out what I believe to be a great paper. But, unfortunately, the stress and panic I felt this morning will not make me break the cycle. In fact, next time I'll wait even longer before I start.

Do I blame the bad influences in my life that forced me to stay online when I clearly had work to do? No, of course not. Do I blame the very interesting episode of Degrassi that I had to watch last night? No, it was so good! Zane is super cute, by the way. I hope he's legal. Does it matter if he's on a show? As we know, I don't like crossing over into creeperland.

So this leads me to the point of this entire post: my generation is incredibly intelligent. Collectively, I think we have critical thinking skills that could cure the world's ills. But we're too busy trolling the Internet.

Some people are gifted enough to get over this. Like E.Beck, who types at superhuman speed. Seriously, I think she's a cyborg.

But, in general, I think our generation will ultimately be a let down. And that thought makes me sad. But not enough to make me want to change.

The story of my life.

An Apple for You, my Pretty

I love nothing more than Pink Lady apples. Seriously, those are like drugs, and I am majorly hooked. But there is also nothing that annoys me more than noisy eating.

Let me paint the picture for you.

I was sitting in this beautiful building, which is mostly obscured by that ugly tree. I like trees, but I like buildings more, so sue me.

In this beautiful building, in my Novel after 1900, Detective Fiction class last week, we were watching a movie with Humphrey Bogart. You know, this handsome guy.

So we were watching and enjoying the movie (The Big Sleep) with this handsome guy and his wife, Lauren Bacall. 

And then I heard a <CRUNCH> from right behind me. I'm still a little distraught over it, 4 days later.

Vivian: Speaking of <CRUNCH>, I like to play them myself. But I like to see them <CRUNCH> a little first, see if they're front runners or <CRUNCH> behind, find out what their whole <CRUNCH> is, what makes them run. 
Marlowe: Find out <CRUNCH>? 
Vivian: I think so. 
Marlowe: Go ahead. 
Vivian: I'd say you don't like to be <CRUNCH><CRUNCH><CRUNCH>. You like to get out in front, open up a little lead, take a little <CRUNCH> in the <CRUNCH>, and then come home free. 

Eventually all I heard was <CRUNCH>, <CRUNCH> fucking <CRUNCH>. The apple was mocking me. Not only did I not have an apple, I was forced to listen to Miss Noisy Eater 2011.

Besides the crunchiest, noisiest eating I've ever been forced to listen to, what bothers me the most is that the apple she was eating was probably an effing Red Delicious.  She put me through psychological torture for a Red Delicious subpar apple.


By the way, whoever named it that was a fucking lying bitch. I bet she was a troll, and now she laughs in her grave at all the dumb people who buy Red Delicious apples and actually like them. HAHAHAHA, you stupid, she's saying.


I know y'all think I'm super neurotic. To be truthful, I probably am. But I would have been completely justified to slap a bitch. For serious.

I've Got a Crush on You

When you're young, every thing seems brand new (often because it is new). When you're  young and have no idea about proper social protocol, things can get sticky very quickly.

Here's where I come in. You see, I had my first real-life crush in the third grade. I thought he was dreamy. And I wasn't aware you were supposed to keep those things to yourself. So, naturally, I told everyone. I may have even written a story where we were going to get married (in Disney World, because that's the greatest place in the WORLD to an 8 yr old. Who am I kidding? I want to be in Disney World now). Although I don't actually remember this. People (ahem, best friend BW) have told me over and over.

I would just like to say, though, that even if I declared my (puppy) love for my crush, it's not as though I could do anything about it. He didn't like me, so I pined, and eventually I got over it. Once I called his house to ask about homework (because we had so much homework in the third grade?), but I only called once. And I didn't know his address (and I only knew his neighborhood because we rode the same bus). So all of my words were just words. And my cookie money. Because women in love give mean crushes their cookie money. Oh well, I was chubs. I probably didn't need cookies anyway.

Anyway, because of my tendency to tell everyone about my crush (and probably embarrass the hell out of said crush), I was labelled the crazy girl for a while. Side story, this changed in the fifth grade where in the middle of class, this girl named Brittney got up on her desk and started singing and dancing. See, the things on "gLee" totally happen in real life!

But throughout high school, multiple people told me that said former crush and I were going to get married. Many different people over several years. Does that make me less crazy?

You may be asking what this has to do with the present? Well, you see, I have been thinking about crushes lately.

Actually, I was watching Sixteen Candles, and it reminded me of all the times over many years that I wrote out my crush's name in my notebook. And I know every girl does this. They told me so, and I've seen it with my own eyes.

I <3 Jake Ryan.

If I wrote my crush's name in my notebook now, would it be considered sketch? Where's the line drawn? At 10, it's cute as long as no one sees. At 20, it's creepy, and they send you to the asylum? Sorry, but ever since reading "The Yellow Wallpaper," I'm terrified of anything resembling a sanitarium. And you can't make me go.

And, secondly, would this sketchiness be applied to crushes on famous people? Obviously, I have a teensy crush on Drake (since I wrote a whole post explaining how we're supposed to get married). Best friend BW has a slight obsession with Jason Segel (and I'm convinced they're going to get married and have muppet babies). So when does the creep factor set in?

Is it when you send death threats to Esperanza Spalding because she won the Grammy you thought he should have won? For the record, I didn't do that. Although I did think Drake (obvs) or J.Biebs were going to win.

Justin's mad he didn't win. Tween girls everywhere revolt!

I actually don't know how to end this post, but I didn't want JB's face to be the last thing you saw, so I'm writing this. 

Tell me who your first (celebrity) crush was! Mine was Kurt Russell in Tombstone. I was very upset when I learned he wasn't really Wyatt Earp. Yeah, I was weird.

Celebrity Child Name Revealed

So remember this precious little girl? And her dumb name?

Well, I put four options, 3 of which were actual celebrity children's names.

Pixie Dust Starlight was the only non-celebrity child name. And that means all of those other names belong to real children, and that thought breaks my heart.

Anyway, without further ado, her name is Bluebell Madonna, and her mother is Geri Halliwell, also known as Ginger Spice!

If you're curious, Fifi Trixiebelle is Bob Geldof's daughter. And Tallulah Belle is, of course, one of the daughters of Bruce Willis and Demi Moore.

Oh, and the winner is Best Friend JM, who was the only person who guessed #4 so kudos and a gold star to her!

Thug Life

Real, true life conversation between two people on my Facebook (y'all, I can't make this shit up):

I hope you can't tell what a novice I am at editing FB screenshots. Of course you can't, because I'm a pro!

Because I had to keep random dude's anonymity, you can't see that homeboy is white. 

All I could say is, "What the eff, boy?! You ain't Tupac!" And I don't even talk like that. But those were my first thoughts. I'm just trying to keep it real.

Sadly, I can say with almost certainty that homeboy doesn't even listen to Tupac. If he doesn't listen to Tupac, he most definitely doesn't know Tupac started the "Thug Life" tattoos. But, to be fair, I bet Homeboy knows how to solve our world's biggest problems like famine and disease is an all around idiot who doesn't know much of anything. Although I have to giggle at the thought that Homeboy might also get Pac's Nefertiti tattoo. There's nothing like having a fertility goddess on your chest to woo the ladies.

Did you read that boys? There's nothing like having a fertility goddess on your chest to woo the ladies.

How would Tupac feel about white kids from the suburbs getting "Thug Life" tattoos? Though I can't say for certain, Pac was a pretty laid-back guy. I think he would sing them a song and tenderly touch their cheeks and tell them it's gonna be alright. And then in my fantasies, he'd slap them across the face and tell them to grow the eff up.

This is obvs the song he'd sing.

Oh, and in interest of full disclosure, I am not an avid Tupac fan. I hope you weren't getting your hopes up that a (kind of) prim and proper white girl from the South is a Pac fan. I like him, but I can't confess to being a closet fan. I listen to Adele and Justin Bieber, not hardcore rap. That's just the way it is.

What's in a name?

Long ago (yesterday, but that's not how stories start), my dad was reading an article about the cheapest places to drive a car. Some where in Ohio (near Cleveland, I believe) made the list. And my dad made a comment about living out in Bumfuck, OH. Meaning the middle of nowhere for people not fluent in his (vulgar) language.

Upon hearing the (nonexistent) name of Bumfuck, I thought what a horrible town name that would be. I mean, would you want to live in Bumfuck? I'm assuming not. And I have a pretty shameful sense of humor.

I mean, can you imagine giving out your address to your grandma?

"Yeah, hey nan, so I moved," you'd say. And she'd respond, "How wonderful! What's the address, snookums? I'll send you money for no reason other than the fact you got off your lazy bum and moved out of your parent's house."

And then you'd have to tell her you moved not only to Ohio, but you also moved to 555 Jackrabbit Ln in the town of Bumfuck. And then you'd never get a Christmahannukwanzaa card from her because she'd be too embarrassed to write out the address in case her postman saw. Or maybe that's just my nan. But I doubt it. Nans worldwide are like that.

But this thought led to all the other crappy names I've encountered. Like the fact that my best friend (let's call her JM) loves the names Ezra, Tevye, and Judah, which are all great names, but not for one poor little Jewish boy, you know? I don't want him to get beaten up in his Sabbath clothes (+ yarmulke) is what I'm saying.

Or what about the fact that my cousin is named Kitrick? Or that in my high school there were Shanaynays and Shaniquas and Chantels? (To be fair, Chantel might not be on the same level of tacky as Shanaynay, but I personally dislike it. So, obviously, it still gets put on the list because I am the ruler of all.)

What would make you name your child any of these names? In the case of Kitrick, his mommy was a little crazy (+ high on drugs...allegedly). So I know her case, but what about the others? Who thinks Shaniqua is a good name? Not even Bon Qui Qui of King Burger would name her child Shaniqua. (Well, Bon Qui Qui might, but Angelah Johnson would never!)

And don't ever tell me it's because you want your kids to be creative and that it starts with the name. I call shenanigans. You're doped up from the epidural, and you effed up your kid's name.

But these things matter little to me, as I'm not high nor crazy and will never name my child something so horrid. Although, in the case of full disclosure, I have given thought of Severus. But it doesn't count if it's Harry Potter names, right?! I know there's going to be a surge in Xenophilius.

So, anyway, I've decided to have fun with these cray-cray names. Because if you can't have fun with them, you just feel horribly sad for the poor things (if it weren't for the fact that their parents have enough money for the kids to rename themselves a million times over if it weren't for the Social Security office being a pain in the ass).

And with that, I present the celebrity child name game!

I'm going to post a picture with a celebrity child who has a dumb name. But I'm going to give you options of several dumb names. You pick the right one! And no cheating. Google is not your best friend in this moment, mmmk?

I know, I know, she's precious. And she's a defacto Spice Girl! (I thought I'd give you a hint. But Google is still cheating!) But she still has a dumbass name, and I don't discriminate. Just because you're cute doesn't mean I won't make fun of your name. So is she:

1. Pixie Dust Starlight
2. Fifi Trixibelle
3. Tallulah Belle
4. Bluebell Madonna

Pick the number you think she is named, and then comment. And the winner gets a gold star. I hope you didn't think there'd be a real prize.

Oh, and PS, I have no idea why Jackrabbit Ln. was the first street I thought of. It just seems like it would belong in a town called Bumfuck. Don't judge, capisce?

Blewnadian

Let me just say that I am tolerant and even admire other cultures, ethnicities, and peoples of the world. Well, that's not exactly true; the cannibal culture in Papua New Guinea really terrifies me, but I suppose I can tolerate them as long as they're far away from me! But there are some cultures, ethnicities, and peoples of the world I admire MORE than others. I see nothing wrong with it. Some people like basketball players or Korean pop singers or Southern Baptists (this is actually false, as only Southern Baptists would like themselves more than anyone else, but that would be vanity so they can't...what a conundrum!) more than other peoples of the world. I just happen to like 3 specific groups of people more so than others. I wonder if y'all can guess? Guess now, minions, GUESS!

If you said, "people who say flag or 'dontcha know' like they're from Minnesota," you'd be almost right. But oh so wrong. Unless your name is Marshall Eriksen. But then you're married (and fictional), and I no longer want you.

If you said, "Arcade Fire and Esperanza Spalding," I'd tell you to get the eff out of my face. Because you clearly know nothing about me. Yes, I clearly didn't know who these two groups were when they won at the Grammys. Yes, I'm a little bitter.

If you said, "the cashiers at Trader Joe's," I would give you a gold star. Clearly you've been paying attention, because the cashiers at TJ's are wonderful and deserve to be liked (even though they wear hideous Hawaiian shirts that make me want to gauge out my eyes, but only if they've already rung up my beef taquitos and spinach dip). Although if you said the cashiers at TJ's, you'd still be wrong. Sorry, that's the way the cookie crumbles, kid.

Let's bring in some math real quick. Now, don't run away! It'll be fun math! Like Tom Lehrer's "New Math," which can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8wHDn8LDks8 If you don't like Tom Lehrer, we can't be friends.

But back to math: what does this equation equal?

+

+

=

?

Whew, that's some math! First, in case you couldn't decipher the pictures, I'll tell you what you're adding. The first picture is obviously representative of Jews, hence the Star of David. The second is a picture of Canada (hi neighbor to the north!). And the third picture is Hugh Jackman from the movie Australia. To be honest, I've never actually seen that movie, but Hugh is smoking like always! And I'm going to say he's a cattle rancher, even though I really have no idea.

So the new equation would be:

Jews + Canadians + Cattle ranchers = ?

I'm over the guessing game, so I'll just tell you what it equals. My perfect man. 

Yes, my perfect man is Canadian Jew cattle rancher. And no, he is not a Jewish Canadian cattle rancher. He is a Jew who happens to be Canadian AND a cattle rancher, not a Canadian who happens to be Jewish AND a cattle rancher. And yes, there's a difference, don't you know?

But here's the problem: there aren't so many Canadian Jews, even in Canada. Add the cattle ranching part to the equation, and all hell has broken loose! 

Here's where the good stuff comes in. There is some one in the world who meets two out of three criterion. And I consider that a win, especially because he has one other factor that just may up the ante. 

Do you still consider him "Jimmy from Degrassi"? I know I did for a long time. But not since I learned that he's a BLEWNADIAN. Yes, that's right. A Black Jewish Canadian. 

Does that blow your mind a little? Sorry.

Well, see how it happened was his mum is Jewish (holla!) and his dad is black (and lives in Memphis where I was born). Thus, Drake is a Black Canadian Jew. And I love it. Even though I didn't come up with the term Blewnadian. If you thought I did, bless you. I'm just not that creative.

So this is my new goal: marry Jimmy from Degrassi. And make him wear a cowboy hat. 

Of course this goal comes with some roadblocks, like not actually knowing Drake. Or being his type. Unless he likes American Southern girls who have a slight obsession with Canadian Jews. Oh right, that's not a type, that's me.

An aside: don't you think it's pretty much fate that his dad lives in Memphis, and I'm from there (well kind of, I don't remember much of it but I still go back to visit my g-parents)? Also, he totes loves Atlanta, and I do, too! In fact, I live pretty close to Atlanta. And he likes strippers, and I like...wait, no, I don't. Ok, so we have two things in common. That's enough, right?

Just say yes, ok?!

Anyway, if you know Drake or Canadian Jew cattle rancher, hit me up. 

And if you don't, I'll still love you. But you might want to send me some chocolate truffles. To drown my sorrows. And because they taste delicious.

It Was Better When We Were Kids

Remember when we were kids anticipating Valentine's Day? We made those legit brown paper bags with glitter hearts all over them? Yeah, those were pretty spectacular. Although looking back, they probably looked like some thing a blind puppy could have made, or thrown up. Hey, I'm just trying to be honest here.

But we were SO READY for the wonderfulness that is St. Valentine's Day, and we went to the store the night before to scope out cards since we were forced to buy one for everyone. I always chose Harry Potter. 

Clearly I was under the impression that Draco Malfoy would come surprise me

 as my Valentine. Unfortunately, that only happened in my dreams. 

In addition to choosing our favorite movie cards (unless you were dumb and chose baseball Valentine's cards...seriously, who does that?!), we also all picked candy. Because, really, who wants to be the loser who doesn't bring candy? But the only thing worse than no candy were these:

Don't let the pretty colors and heart shapes fool you, these suckers (no pun intended) tasted like sugary ass. Maybe I was a gourmet candy taster at the ripe age of 8, but I could taste the Red Dye #40 in these as soon as they hit my tongue. But, of course, I was also a child. If there were no Nerds (the nectar of gods and Sheldon Cooper, I tell you!), these would provide the sugar comatose I needed to get me through multiplication and Mrs. Baker. And gym with my borderline pedophiliac gym teacher. (Last I heard, he was still there and dating a woman who could have actually been in my class, age-wise. I always knew he was a creeper!)

Even though I have upgraded my candy standards, I still find myself longing for the days of forced Valentine's Day card parties. Even though you wanted to gyp the mean girl with the stank face in the back of the classroom, you still gave her a "You're special" card. I think these are great lessons in life. You won't always get along with someone, but you can still give them a backhanded compliment and assface suckers.