Pinterest. Oh to the em to the ef to the gee. Although the name ‘Pinterest’ does cleverly capture what’s going on there, it could easily be renamed ‘The Aspirational Graveyard’ (“I’m toooootally going to make this 5-tiered peacock cake!”) or ‘Brides Gone Batsh*t Crazy’.
Things I’ve learned in my brief time on Pinterest:
1) 98% of comments about food are “Yum!!” Great insight. I am beginning to suspect most people are imbeciles.
2) Never follow a person – only boards. Because they’ll get engaged and then – WHAM! Your entire feed is instantly clogged with 87 million photos of wedding dresses and inane comments. “Soooooo preeeettttyyyy!” You know what? It’s not. You’d look like a ham in a giant sequined doily.
In related news, the word ‘doily’ is underused.
I like doing yoga sometimes. It feels stretchy and nice. Unfortunately it sometimes leads to encounters like this one:
Yoga girl: That class was amazing.
Me: Damn skippy it was – I’m all warm and squishy and stuff. Plus that giant stress knot in my neck is down to the size of a pomegranate!
Yoga girl: I could just feel how my energy meridians re-aligned. It really cleansed my aura.
Me: Yes, well, all that is total nonsense. But it sure does great things for the butt, am I right!?!
Then I tried to high-five her and she fully left me hanging.
I was going to call this post “Mo’ money, mo’ problems” until I realized that made absolutely no sense. But I wanted to share the creative process with y’all.
I decided yesterday that I needed scented markers in order to do my work properly. Even though I work in an office, and not a daycare or circus school. So I asked the nice lady at the office supply store where they were.
Employee: They are right over there. And they’re non-toxic!
Me: Yes – well, I would hope so. Since you are actively encouraging children to sniff them.
Employee: [Blank stare.]
Me: And if they WERE toxic, I would hope that you would put them in the “Bored Teens” aisle, and not “Kids”.
Anyway. It turns out they didn’t even HAVE scented markers in stock. So I am forced to work with Sharpies, which do not smell like anything. Sigh.
I saw a display of Whipped Cream Vodka at the liquor store today. Obviously I had to buy it, even though the idea of a clear dairy-flavoured beverage is slightly disturbed. Also I do not drink flavoured vodka. But these things did not seem important at the time.
So I called my sister so she could share my excitement.
Me: I just bought whipped cream flavoured vodka
Alexis: Ok – gross.
Me: It’s from France!
Alexis: Being French does NOT make this not disgusting.
Me: It clearly does. France, Alexis. FRANCE. The land of classy things. When was the last time you had something from France you did not like?
She judges now, but she will fully drink the whipped-cream vodka & rootbeer schnapps martinis I make.
Moving on. Here is a picture of some kittens talking about their feelings.
I was thinking I should throw a boardgame night. Then I remembered that I have a trailer-trash themed birthday party tonight. So we’ll probably be playing games more along the lines of flip cup. Which is basically like Boggle for grown-ups, when you think about it.