Why I Just Don't Care About Organic (Or Any Of That All-Natural Nonsense)

While reading last month's Marie Claire magazine (which I took from the box of old magazines at the gym [as one is wont to do]) I came across this little gem of information about a cocoa butter lotion:

"Earth-friendly manufacturing practices-- like rain-watering methods, solar crop drying, and the use of fuel derived from dried coconut shells---make the co-op sustainably sound."

Okay, you know what? That sounds like a bunch of nonsense words to me. More than that, it sounds like something Jack Donaghy would say to make fun of the Carter administration.

I want to come out and say something that I'm not sure anyone has said out loud before:

Meh.

THAT'S RIGHT: MEH. I said it. And what does "meh" mean exactly? It's this: I don't care. I don't care about your vegan, organic, free range, fair trade walnuts. Here's the way I see it:

I actively walk past organic food.
I recognize that non-organic food is probably covered in a thick film of rat poison. I know I'm probably putting growth hormones in my body and THAT'S why my eye starts twitching out of nowhere and no one else can see it. But I just can't bring myself to care. And this goes for all that stuff: cage-free eggs, all-natural soap (aka pachouli and sage. Yum), vegan hemp, whatever.

Am I the only one who will admit it? That, yeah, maybe it does cause cancer but it's forty cents cheaper and that stuff adds up. Besides, everything causes cancer. And also, NOTHING causes cancer. So give me the damn oversized strawberries.

And you know what? I like that my non-organic sliced bread lasts outside a refrigerator for weeks. WEEKS. How does it do it? No idea. How does Cameron Diaz continue to be cast in movies time and again? No one knows why and frankly, I'm tired of caring about both the bread AND the Diaz. At least one of them could cry convincingly and I think we ALL know I'm taking about the bread.

While I'm at it, I also eat meat.
I guess I don't like cows THAT much. Funnily enough, I could easily be a vegetarian. I eat Greek yogurt and black beans like it's my job. And, considering my current state of unemployment, it kind of IS. And Morningstar makes a veggie corndog that'll blow your mind. The only problem I foresee in going veg would be the restaurant ads that show hands pulling apart juicy chicken breast. But otherwise, I could definitely survive as a vegetarian. But I don't, because I don't care.

I hear all that about animal cruelty and it makes me sad...and then eventually I forget what I was thinking about because I'm hungry and I order a steak. I even read the Jungle in college. Sure, I didn't eat sausage for about a month. But eventually I convinced myself that meat packers must have changed their ways, that sausage is now made of rainbows and sunshine and nothing else, and I ordered a pepperoni pizza.

I give up.
Here's the real reason why I don't care: because whether or not I buy organic carrots, I'm sure I'm surrounded by injustice. Where did my shoes come from? Probably Malaysian toddlers. The carpet under my feet is likely peppered with asbestos. And even if the soap I bought is biodegradable, the loofa I put the soap on could be made of baby seals for all I know. So if you want me to care about something, I'm going to have to ACTUALLY care about it. And I don't live in a moss hut where I sew my own clothes and chickens gently hand me their eggs. So why really bother? I mean, I recycle. I'm not a monster. Let's just back off a little with the "all-natural" pride we get from using Aveeno hand cream while we turn our air conditioners a degree cooler because we "like to use blankets at night."

And even that Marie Claire magazine can't pretend to get all "every little bit counts" on me, because 40 pages earlier, in the same magazine that touted COCONUT FUEL, there was an entire page on how to make a statement with fur parkas. Yes, seriously.

So yeah. I buy the cheap stuff. Because that sticker (with horse hoof glue) you just slapped onto that bar of soap? It doesn't say "organic" to me. It says "don't bother".

A Fake Daily Show Piece

So, as I said last week, I wrote a fake Colbert and Daily Show piece for my writing class, both based on the same news story. I gave you the Colbert one then, but I wanted to keep working on the Daily Show piece. It's not perfect yet, but it's better. So here it is, another Blog Post Of Laziness.




We begin tonight in France, where Apple has recently ousted an iPhone app, called “Jew or Not Jew”. The app is a database of thousands of famous Jews, from Steven Spielberg to Woody Allen’s daughter-slash-wife.

The creator of the app, a Frenchman named Johann Lévy, says the app is all in good fun. But many Parisians have taken offense to the app. Let’s see…when did France once collect the names of Jews, perhaps handing them over to a charismatic young man with a mustache....?


No…not him…



Closer…



Oh, that’s right, that’s right! THAT guy!

Yes, some said the “Jew or Not Jew” app reminded them of World War II! When the French government collaborated with Nazi occupiers to identify and deport Jews to death camps. (FAKE, EMBARRASSED LAUGHTER) Ha…ha…I’m sure the guy who made the app, uh, would immediately disprove such accusations.

CUT AWAY TO NEWS REPORTER: "Levy says, 'It recalls the Second World War, but that was 65 years ago!'"

BACK TO JON: Yes, only 65 years. And if there’s one thing people are over, it’s the Holocaust. (SING-SONG) Boriiiing!

But supporters of the app say all this fuss is for nothing. After all, the names aren’t being used to deport people to death camps, it’s just an aggregate of already-public information put into one, easy-access iphone app. For his take on the story, we turn to our Senior French Correspondent, Wyatt Cenac. Wyatt, do you think the French are right to be so offended by this app?



WYATT: Absolutely, Jon. The French aren’t like us Americans, because they don’t know how to throw around a good Nazi reference for sport. “Obama is Hitler." "Bush is Hitler." "Ghandi was Hitler.”—we’ve been using the Holocaust for our own purposes for so long, one more reference doesn't phase us. But it still works in France because apparently the French don’t cry Nazi every time someone mentions a tax hike. Gah, that Hitler and his senseless, brutal tax hikes.

But the French aren't like that, so when something ACTUALLY reminds them of Nazis, they get a little…verklempt. Luckily, the US still allows the app. And since I've been properly desensitized, I've got the app right here. Hey, look! You’re on here, Jon. Let's see, your parents are both Jewish, you’re a Sagittarius, you secretly hate gefilte fish, you have a mole on your inner thigh--

JON: Wait, how does it know that?

WYATT: Hey, what’s “Death To Smoochy”? Is that like a venereal disease?

JON: Alright. Wyatt Cenac everybody. We'll be right back.

A Haircut Saga

I've determined there are two kinds of stress (now really I'm sure the medical community has determined this about 100 years ago but I'm only grasping it now so work with me here):

1. TOO MUCH TO DO AND NO TIME TO DO IT AND EVERYTHING'S HAPPENING AT ONNNNNNNNCE!!!!! stress.

2. Slow seepage stress. Aka, the stress of not knowing what you are doing with your life. Sure, you get 8 hours of sleep and your heart stays at a nice resting pace, but in the past week, this kind of stress has still caused me:
a. 3 pimples on my chin (and not the curable ones--the lurkers)
b. 1 canker sore (Which is different from a cold sore. From what I hear from cold sore sufferers, canker sores are much more painful, although infinitely less embarrassing.)
c. The kind of cold that, when you're healthy, you think only wimps would be affected by. But when you actually have it, you think you might die. Seriously, how do you have a stuffy nose, runny nose, and so-clear-it-hurts nose AT THE SAME TIME?! HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?
Okay. Calm down, Emily.
YOU CALM DOWN.
Juuuuuust breathe.
I CAN'T BREATHE BECAUSE OF THIS GODFORSAKEN NOSE.
Great now I have multiple personalities
YOUR MOM HAS MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES.
YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH ABOUT MY MOTHER!

So this is the state I was in when I went to the hairdresser yesterday.

In order for you to understand my story, I need to explain a little about my hair. Stay with me, this is key. Currently, I have a chin-length bob. Kind of like Rihanna here, but a little longer, brunette, and without the talent.



I've been needing a trim for about a week or two now--but not technically a trim. My hair was getting heavy at the bottom, kind of like in the late 90's, before layers. Like Claire Danes hair here:



All I needed was someone to use those *shink shink* scissors to thin it out. I have gone to this place before, and it should have been a 4-second fix, done for free to tide me over until I needed to come in for a full-on haircut.

Yes, I said SHOULD have. Walk with me.

So my hairdesser is a half hour walk, and it was drizzling outside. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't be walking there for nothing, so I called to make sure they weren't running around like chickens already. I tried to be as clear as possible that it should be a quick trim, in and out in a few minutes. She said "Our next available appointment is for 1:30." Again, I tried to emphasize that it should only be like a nothing, like not even a trim, just a quick fix. *Silence.* So okay, yeah, 1:30. 1:30 okay. Exactly 1:30. It's better. Thank you, Dr. M/lady on the phone.

When I arrived, there were two women at the front desk, one woman with tin foil in her hair reading a magazine, and me. (And Lady Gaga, but she was only there in sound.) I introduced myself, they had me take a seat while they...I don't know, discussed what they wanted for lunch, I think. Finally Rosa sat me down (I've never had her before) and I said hi. She said nothing.

Oh boy. Here is the next problem: I am intimidated by hair dressers for absolutely no reason whatsoever. I turn beat red as soon as I describe my hair and what it needs. Every time. No matter how well I know the person. Later, Joe told me "You practically act like they're celebrities! What if John Krasinski was cutting your hair?!" "I would die. I would actually have a heart attack and die." I don't know what it is, I just get so nervous around them! Maybe it's the fact that I'm looking in the mirror, watching myself talk that gets me so self-conscious. I don't know what it is.

Anyway, I tried to tell the woman that I just need a nothing, a little, just like it's getting heavy in the front and I want to take out some of the weight, or whatever, you know, it got kind of curly in the rain but like, I mean, and the weight, with my hair, like not the length, just like, with the--

Finally Rosa stopped me (THANK GOD or we would have been there all day) and said "okay so basically just some of the weight out of the bottom." YES. THANK YOU.

She said, "Okay, so what I want to do is shampoo you, blow dry, straighten it, and then we can see where we're at.

What I SHOULD have said was: "No."
What I DID say was "Oh....................kay."
See, the thing is, I had JUST washed it. Like an hour earlier. And all that work sounded like WAY too much for just the quick snip I knew this should be. But I was already beat red from trying to talk, and my brain just stopped functioning. I guess I figured: I had done all I can to explain that this was a quick, free trim I was looking to get, and if she wanted to wash my hair, I guess that was fine.

And then the woman washed my hair, blow dried my hair, and straightened my hair with such attention to detail, such care, that I realized: this was not a free cut. She even added the oils. THE OILS, PEOPLE. And you know what that means.

Finally, she got to the part I had wanted in the first place. She takes out her scissors and roughly ten seconds later, my hair is the way I want it. Of course.

So I walked up to the counter, realizing that this haircut was not going to be free. I told her I belong to Cheetah Gym which means I get a 15% discount. And I hoped that she realized how little hair she actually cut and not charge me full price.

"That'll be $52 dollars."
WHAT?!?!?!?!??!?! ARE YOU INSAAAANNNNNEEEEE!?!!??!?!?!?!? I DON'T EVEN PAY THAT MUCH WHEN I ACTUALLY GET A REAL HAIRCUT HERE!

...is what I should have screamed.

Instead, I handed her my credit card, while a single tear rolled down my face. I didn't know what to do. I am so not a confrontation person. You could serve me food at a restaurant with a cockroach in the middle of it and I would politely eat around it and go home. So.....*siiiiigh*....I still tipped the woman. In fact, I tipped her ten WHOLE dollars. What I'm saying to you is, I just got my hair styled for $62. I just got a $62 blow dry.

To prove to you guys how very very flustered I was by the whole thing, though, I put the $10 in one of those little envelopes for tipping (even though she was standing right there) and where it said "From" I wrote (and this is true): Emyl.

...E. M. Y. L. That was how I spelled MY OWN NAME.

The icing on the cake is, since it was rainy, as soon as I stepped outside, everything that woman had just done for the past hour was completely ruined. I had just paid $62 for a blow dry that lasted 2 minutes.

Finally, this morning I called the place to explain my situation. He said they usually give free cuts if it's to fix a problem from a recent cut, or to trim bangs. But not for that. And the woman I saw was apparently JUDO MASTER level, hence the steep price. So he couldn't do anything for me. Really, I'm the idiot who thought I could go in for a free haircut and should have just stuck it out with my heavy hair.

Well, what's done is done. My hair looks better now at least? I mean, I got what I wanted, I just paid a billion dollars for it. So if you see me in the next month or so, I'd appreciate it if you tell me my hair looks amazing and I should be a model. It's the only way I'll keep my stress level down and these zits off my chin.

BRB, Having a Meltdown

This is how I feel about moving to California in a month:





This is how I feel when I remember Joe is visiting next weekend:





This is how I feel about my professional future:

Movin' On Out

Well I started inklings of it here. And then I really got into it here.

But when Joe and I were in Seattle, we shook on it. It's official: I'm moving to San Francisco in November.

Question: Gasp! Do you have a job out there yet?
Answer: Welll...no I do not. But Advertising is a very in-the-moment, we-need-you-yesterday kind of business, so this doesn't worry me. EDIT: Joe's contract job isn't full-time yet either. We just decided that even if he doesn't get it, we'd both have to look for a job somewhere, so we might as well make it San Fran.

Question: Do you have a place out there yet?
Answer. No we do not. Joe doesn't have much spare time to devote to checking out places, but once we get our credit reports and checkbooks ready, he is going to go apartment searching by himself to try and find us a place that is not a) falling apart and b) a hundred million dollars. Apparently this is a difficult task.

Question: Have you bought your plane ticket yet?
Answer. No I have not. OKAY SO I KNOW THERE ARE A LOT OF "NO I HAVEN'T DONE THE RESPONSIBLE PARTS OF MOVING" YET CAN YOU PLEASE GET OFF MY BACK MOVING IS HARD I'M DOING MY BEST TO KEEP IT TOGETHER NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID I'VE STOPPED USING PUNCTUATION AND I FORGET WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT....wait, what? Oh, okay so no I haven't bought the plane ticket yet. Gotta do that, but I probably should know when we're moving in before I do. And flying with Regina Phalange means a few extra tasks so it's going to be really fun and complicated and annoying.

Question: Did he like it so he should have put a ring on it?
Answer: Well, well, well. The question I knew you were REALLY wondering all along. Only took you four tries before you got the heart of it. He does like it, he has not put a ring on it yet. We're getting there, don't worry. My personal opinion? I'd like to feel a little more grounded before we start throwing rings around willy-nilly. You know, slightly less like a giant helium balloon flying high above the parade of life. (PS in this metaphor it's best to think of me as a giant Kermit flying above your faces. Really drives the point home. But I digress.)

Question: But! But! What about...And then there's....You can't just...!!
Answer: I know. I know! When I started to think about moving away, my core group of friends was starting to break off and do their own thing. And it felt like the move would be really easy. And then Laura finally moved back into the city and my niece learned my name and I moved next to the lake and my little sister became legal drinking age and I have a friend who could use me close by--I KNOW!

Question: SO?! THEN?! HMM?!?!
Answer: Well the thing is, I've never memorized a zip code that didn't start with a 6. But this isn't one of those "I've gotta get out of this dump" situations, because Chicago is awesome. I'll even say that in January and mean it. I just need to experience somewhere outside the prairie. And it's not one of those "I've gotta get away from these people" situations because these are my family and my friends and the people I love more than anything. Ever. These are the people who loved me when I had glasses the size of my face. These are the people who hugged me until I stopped crying after I broke up with my boyfriend of 4 years. These are the people who ACTUALLY think I could be a successful Muppeteer if I went out and did it. It's not at all about leaving. It's about arriving. I need to do this terrifying thing because if I don't, I'll always wonder if I could. I'm also going to try (possibly for the last time) to see if I really can be a good copywriter in a city that seems to have better options for me. And besides all this, I get to have an adventure with Joe that's as close as I'm willing to come to "Man, Woman, Wild".

Question: Pff...kcchhh....ccckk...
Answer: I know. But it's happening. It has to. I have to. I don't know how long I'll be there. Maybe I'll hate it and I'll be back in a year. Maybe I'll love it and stay forever! I don't know! Somehow I think it'll be somewhere between those two. A warning: you might be hard pressed to rip me away from a city that's a quick drive to 80 degrees and wine. Just keep reminding me about deep dish pizza. I'm sure I'll come around.

A Fake Colbert Report Piece

So the reason I had no post yesterday was because I was working like a mutha on a project for my comedy writing class last night. The assignment was to write two pieces on the same news article--one for the Daily Show and one for the Colbert Report.

I can happily say the Colbert Report piece was a success. The Daily Show one? Noooooooot so much. It wasn't terrible, but it needs some work (luckily revisions are the assignment for next week.) So instead of giving you a real blog post today, I'm going to be incredibly lazy and just do a little copy/paste/voila action. So here is the spec Colbert Report piece. And maybe next week I'll show you the DS version...if I can mold it into something in any way useful.

Here we go.



Nation, as you know, I don’t trust the French. They drink mineral water instead of high fructose corn syrup, their kisses can get a little sloppy, and they can’t tell the difference between a female skunk and a cat with a paint stripe.

But I was outraged when I heard about a law France is enforcing: something so despicable, I nearly threw up in my mouth. I’m talking about the separation of church and state. *HURR!* Sorry.

Sure, in America, we believe in the separation of church and state, as long as we can still debate political issues using scripture. But in France, they don’t even swear their president in on a Bible! What do they use? Le Petite Prince? Or maybe just a nice plate of beef bourguignon.

But folks, even knowing this, I was shocked to hear that last week, France took their church and state separation a step too far when Apple obliterated a religion-centered iPhone app called “Jew or Not Jew”.

The app aggregates information on Jewish celebrities, so you can find out quickly if, say, Natalie Portman is or is not Jewish. This many Jewish celebrities haven’t been outed since Adam Sandler’s Hannukah Song.

But thanks to lawsuit threats, Apple France has said goodbye or, “frommage” to the app. According to CNN, recording a person’s faith in a public file crosses the line in France. But if you don’t know someone’s faith, how can you know how harshly to judge them? For example, if you didn’t know I was Catholic, you’d have no idea how much guilt I feel at what I’m about to say next:

Shame on you, France! Put down your croissants and see it the American way. We were built on the separation of church and state, with the understanding that church will inform every state decision we make.

Church and state should be as separate as peanut butter and jelly. You keep peanut butter on one slice of bread, and jelly on the other. Sure, you put the two together eventually, but that’s because they go together SO WELL! Deal with it, France. That’s how we do things here, in this one nation, under God.

We’ll be right back.

My Emmy Fail

The Emmy's were fun. And funny. And sparkly. Just as they should be.

But, sa-weet Jesus, I got every single one of my predictions wrong. If you know me, you probably are not putting any money on any decisions I make anyway (and thank God for that, because you would be a poor, poor person if you did.) But I apologize for leading you all astray. That'll teach you to trust my instincts.

Also




That is all.

8 Amazing TV Shows To Watch & How To Start Watching Them

Well it's mid-September, we all know what that means: TELEVISION IS COMING BACK! Who’s excited? Is it possibly the girl who is living alone with her cat? Hey now, that was harsh. You don’t know me.

So I’m sure there are shows that you’ve been hearing about but you’re unsure if it’s the show for you. Or even where to start. Here’s what I’d like to do: I want to create a comprehensive list. A list of shows worth watching, and the episode you should watch first to get you hooked. A few shows start out amazing out of the gate (AHEMmodernfamilyAHEM) but some take a little while to get going (AHEMparksandrecAHEM).

So here are just 8 shows to get the list started. These are currently running shows (yes, all comedies because that's how I roll) which I suggest to anyone and everyone, paired with the episode that I believe will convince you to start watching it. I tried to pick episodes that are high quality, but introduces the characters, too. So it's not just that these are the "best" episodes, they are the best introductory episodes.

I'll give you links if I can, but they mostly require a Netflix or Hulu Plus account. I give you all my personal permission to find them any way you can (wink wink nudge nudge say no more). So here we go.

IF YOU DON"T WATCH...

Parks and Recreation


Watch "Hunting Trip". After I gave up on Parks and Rec, I saw this episode and realized that I’d been missing out on what had become an amazing show.

Modern Family


Watch the Pilot and keep going. But if you can’t get your hands on it, watch any (they each work on their own) and I’ll give you the basic rundown so you know what’s going on: Jay (aka Al Bundy) married a Columbian woman named Gloria, who has a son, Manny. Jay has two adult children from a previous marriage: Claire, who is married to Phil and has three kids, and Mitchell, who recently adopted a Vietnamese baby named Lily with his partner, Cameron. They all live near each other in California. AAAAAAAAND GO.

The Office (American)


Watch "Boys and Girls". This was the first episode I ever saw and it made a life long fan out of me. Current episodes are more touch-and-go but certainly still have their moments. But seasons 2-4 shone like diamonds.

Glee


Watch “Throwdown.” It’s a Sue episode, and as I've said before, she's the biggest reason to watch the show.

30 Rock


Tough One. Any will do, really. “Secrets and Lies” is a good introduction to characters, but “Reunion” is funnier.

Community


Watch "Modern Warfare". Then go back and bother to learn who the people are. Like with Parks and Rec, this was the episode that made me realize the show had become awesome without me. There is also a zombie Halloween episode, and a Christmas claymation episode. Just to whet your whistle.

New Girl


Of course you don't watch this show, because this is the new show with Zooey Deschanel and so far the only thing available is the pilot, but it is absolutely hilarious. Sure, a little unbelievable that Ms. Deschanel is supposed to be one step above repulsive, but it’s so funny and cute you kinda have to overlook that.

Happy Endings


This show just started last year. It’s basically "New Girl" without Zooey but with a bro-y gay guy and still hilarious. The episodes play off each other a LITTLE but I say watch what you can find—the only thing to note is that the platinum-blonde girl and the non-gay white guy were almost married but she chickened out at the altar in the first episode and now they’re friends. Aaaaaaaaaand, GO.


Now I want to hear from you!

1. Do you think I got the “key episode” wrong on these shows? Think there’s a better one to start on?

2. What other shows should people watch? And what’s the first episode people should start on? Clearly I have a “type” when it comes to shows. How about sci-fi shows? Dr Who? Breaking Bad? Entourage? Weeds? I want to hear it, sure, but think of all the new people you may influence to watch a new show.

3. Are you mad at me for not finding you ways to watch all these episodes immediately? I know I am.

Home Improvement Reunion Picture?! YES AND PLEASE.

Let's go clockwise here, shall we?

1. Mark, I expected nothing less from you.
2. Tim, nice to see you as always.
3. Brad! I know your best days as a dreamy blonde soccer player are behind you, but METH IS NOT THE WAY TO GO!
4. Oh, wow, Heidi looks really goo--WAIT. What is going on with her arm?....And lips?
5. You keep trucking, Al. You just keep on trucking.
6. JTT! You look different...kinda...not really...or do you? Meh, you know what? I'd still date you.
7. Jill. Jill Jill Jill Jill Jill. You are the Jennifer Aniston of TV moms. I'm really banking on this whole "prettier with age" thing so please keep up the good work.

Back To "Normal"

Whoa. Sorry for the time away. I've been hosting Michelle for the week and I was distracted by the giant tub of cookie dough we made and consequently consumed. It doesn't take much to distract me. At least it was a worthwhile cause. But she has gone home now, so it's back to blogging, working out, and lots and lots of Netflix.

So last weekend I went to Seattle for a wedding--Joe's old roommate, Mo, got hitched in a forest filled with treehouses. It was gorgeous, Joe kept making the same jokes about Star Wars, fun times were had by all.

The wedding ended a bit earlier than some were ready for because of the venue, so a few of us went out to a bar. The bar we landed at was filled with a bunch of pinball machines. As always when I find myself surrounded by pinball machines, I searched for the one Katie and I experienced as children. She will back me up on this--we believe it was S&M themed. YES, SERIOUSLY. All I remember is there was a picture of a sexy woman in black leather with big black hair, and when the ball hit a certain point, her voice would croon, "Don't touch me THERE!"

It was horrifying.

Anyway, it wasn't there. In fact, there were actually NEW pinball machines. Like a "Tron: Legacy" pinball machine. Which was weird. It was like a version of 2011 where the internet didn't happen. My life without Google flashed before my eyes. It was grim.

We drank a few beers and right when we decided it was about time to go, a guy in a Mexican wrestling mask walked in. He was about 5'4", 110 pounds. When we noticed him, Teo muttered to us, "Hey, Nacho Libre over here..." and we grimmaced with him. Next thing we know, the guy in the mask lifted it off his face and screamed directly into Teo's ear,

"JACK BLACK WAS A BITCH!!!" (<--Please imagine this also in 72pt font, it really drives the point home.)

We all sat straight up in our chairs, our eyes round as saucers. The man put his mask back over his head and walked on. God, humans are weird. Sajid laughed and said, "I think he was joking." Teo wiped the side of his face and said, "It didn't FEEL like he was joking." We were still chuckling when Jared came over and asked, "Who was just screaming? It wasn't the guy in the mask, was it? Yeah, he tried to light my face on fire."

Amazing.

Really, it was a great long weekend. Joe and I both loved Seattle. Here's what we realized: we were both raised in the suburbs and have fond memories of suburban living: riding bikes, playing in the yard, that kind of thing. But we like the options of activities that a city gives us. What's great about Seattle is that is has the feel of a suburb (clean, quiet, safe), with the amenities of a city (restaurants, bars, public transportation, museums). We were both quite impressed. Also the only litter we saw ever was Starbuck's related, which I find fitting. It was definitely the kind of city I could see myself living in, if only it offered me anything professionally. Sadly I don't work for Amazon and can't work from home quite yet, so it's not an option for now. Oh well! It was a great place to visit, and with our married friends there (and a few aunts out that way) we have an excuse to go back!

Here are a few pictures from the trip, just to prove that I actually DID go there.


(That's me, eating one of the best donuts from one of the best donut places ever, Top Pot. If you are in or around Seattle, go there immediately)


(My view from the plane, obv, as the Space Needle doesn't go THAT high. That's Mount Rainier)


(Pike Place Market. AKA, Tourists Walking Around Without Looking Where They're Going, plus a lot of fish.)


(See? Fish. GROSS. People were touching them. It was horrifying. You always hear about Pike Place and how they throw the fish, but it's really more of an occasional toss, so I didn't get a picture of it. I had to settle for these monsters with their mouths open and their eyes all looking at me. Shut up, fish, quit looking at me like that. If I had my way you'd still be alive in the ocean.)

Scenes From A Camera Phone

Okay guys. This one is a doozy. It is officially September now, and what better time to reflect on the past year than in September (I know, it makes no sense. Work with me here. It's Adrienne's birthday, so let's say I'm reflecting on HER past year or whatever. JUST SHUT UP ALREADY I FELT LIKE DOING THIS AND I DIDN'T WANT TO WAIT UNTIL DECEMBER SO I'M DOING IT NOW AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME)

See? Do you see what you've done? You made me go all caps lock early in the post and scare away new people who are now nervous about what I might do or say next and don't appreciate getting yelled at, like you all clearly do.

HANYWAY. So I'm looking through my phone and realizing how many insane, random pictures I have in here of things I've observed. Now, if you don't have a camera on your phone, or a proper one as I'm pretty sure everyone over the age of 3 has a camera phone, you are missing out on the true reason to get one: random observational pictures. I am particularly fond of taking pictures of weird-looking people in Chicago or ads that give me Scrunch Face. It is up to you to determine what weird, nonsense things you take pictures of. Because it is a digital world and taking pictures of a dude with a big fro is no longer considered a waste of film, it is a miracle sent by baby Jesus. Not grown-up Jesus; he wouldn't stand for that kind of crap. But baby Jesus is probably cool with it.

God, I'm in a really weird mood right now, I'm sorry. MOVING ON.

So without further ado, here, in chronological order, are a crap ton of pictures of things I've taken pictures of, mostly in Chicago (except I squeezed in a few San Fran ones in there in the end. Sorry, SF, you aren't getting away so easy.)


This is one of Jane Lynch's costumes from Glee (and I love how long it was on the mannequin), and it was at Claire's, of all places. They had all this "I <3 Finn" and "I <3 That Asshole Guy With The Mohawk Who No One Should Love Because He Is The Worst" memorabilia, but NO "I <3 Sue Sylvester" stuff. Apparently Claire's is for 13 year-old girls and NOT 26 year-old women with emotional attachments to tall sassy women.


As promised, dude with a fro. AND HOW.


You know what? It wasn't MY fault that we were playing jenga next to a plate of nachos at the bar. I STILL refuse to take the fall for that. (Get it? FALL?!)


Praise be to the person who corrected this sign. It makes me eternally happy.


Fine. I give up on the why-do-female-mannequins-have-nipples fight because apparently it is a losing battle. But really, do we need MOOBS on our male mannequins? Can American men not picture an outfit unless it resembles their soft, shapeless form?


Joe and I joke that any time we see a sign like this (which says "best in town") we think of Elf. "YOU DID IT! Congratulations."


How. Amazing. Is. This. And how sad that I never look up and it took me months to notice.


This was at the wedding where the guy told us, "No offense, but you LOOK like you're from Chicago." Read that post. Then look at those blonde women. I rest my case.


At that same wedding, we looked around and realized that there was a potential mob boss at every table. The man was at a wedding reception in an undershirt. I was 100% terrified of him.


Mullet fauxhawk. Sadly, this combo is not like where you THINK that fries and shake will not mix and then you try them and are pleasantly surprised.


I don't even know what to do with this bumper sticker. Are you mocking? Are you serious? I don't know how to feel! And yet I love it!


For an apartment finder company in Chicago. That's some of the best graffiti I've seen to date.


You can't tell from this picture, but this was rush hour. REALLY, sir? REALLY?!


Oh this was one of the best. This was a man in a suit, pushing himself around the el car with his feet while in a wheelchair, eating a pint of ice cream with a screwdriver. At 8 in the morning.


This is, from head to toe, what Joe wears 90% of his waking life. The Gap, you just blew my mind.


Why.


Either Nick Cannon is REALLY good at balancing food in a bag, or someone with my same level of abilities at Photoshop had some fun with the drop shadow.


I'm sad, I forgot about this guy when I put together my post recently about the cute things I accidentally drew. Look at how adorable he is!


That is a woman. Walking a dog. With another dog in a stroller. All three of them have the same hair.


Science nerd humor in advertising. I'm Emily, and I support this message.


Reasonable prices? For whom, Whole Foods? The Queen?


Does anyone look at this and NOT see Robin Williams?


The funny thing is, this man only looks about 150 pounds from the front.


Lest you think I'm size-ist from that last picture of the big guy, here is a girl who was SO skinny, her jeggings did not hug her ankles. It was scary. I hope she is okay.


Obligatory Adorable Old Man Photo


I bank while picking out my wedgie.


This guy could hardly walk because he was low-riding his skinny jeans and it looked RIDICULOUS.


This picture isn't weird, it was just my first trip to Chick-fil-a and I wanted you all to be jealous.


Oh so fine, I go away for ONE extended weekend and THESE GUYS show up?!?! BAH!! WHAT IS THE POINT.


As soon as Adrienne and I poured our "Butterbeer" (aka Butterscotch liqueur and cream soda) in celebration of having seen all 8 Harry Potter movies together, an impressionable 10 year-old boy sat down next to us. Whoopsie.


Was this Halloween? Was this a costume party? No. This was a group of ladies out on the town. And one of them had on a mask. And she didn't even have the decency to sing "Music Of The Night."


Obligatory Old People Standing Weird Photo


So....this exists.


Basically everything you need then? I mean, it's practically a Wal-Mart.


BUT WHERE?!?!?!?!?


One way I know Joe and I are meant to be together is our creepy ability to know what is going on with the other person when not with them. The day everyone got laid off, I had had a COUPLE PBRs and texted him a schmoopy text saying "I love you SO MUCH." and his response: "You're eating fries, aren't you?" I sent back this picture.


I have such glee at the fact that my air conditioner goes to eleven.


Old couple wearing weird shoes. I don't know, it seemed funny at the time. Leave me alone, they can't all be winners.


This was parked a few blocks from my house. I don't even know what to tell you about it. I mean, I guess good that the driver of this vehicle does not believe murder is the answer...but do you have to be so "if the Manson Family killed someone in a car" about it?


This was at Asian-style group karaoke last weekend. That is Hootie and the Blowfish "Let Her Cry" and we were informed that the hip hop dancing in the background was by the "Korean Usher." Obviously this makes sense.

And that has been my favorite pictures from the past 12 months! I hope I have encouraged you to take a few more stealth photos yourself.