Thursday, September 20, 2012

Creepers Episode 4: The Needy Jerk Epidemic Part 1


Before I start, let me make it clear that I now have a boyfriend. My boyfriend is a man I that I pined over for too long while he ‘grew up’. He is still in the process, but everyday with him is a thousand times better than a million money-makin’ creep stories.
Nextly, lest us discuss the NEEDY JERK EPIDEMIC. Single ladies, (Even the not so single ladies) know what I’m talking about. (Yes, maybe even those heavy hitting Christian ladies whose parents pick out husbands for them might even know what I’m talking about…) There seem to be an abundance of men who are not only jerks, but then turn out to be really fucking needy as well.
Let me share a few examples from dating experience past:
Needy Jerk #1. College. 2009.: Let’s call him PRECIOUS. Yes. Precious. Precious bleached his teeth so frequently that they glowed in the dark and for some reason thought it was totally acceptable to don Abercrombie & Fitch from head to toe at the ripe age of 23. Precious was all douche-flirty at a party I was at. He told me I should be a model and then told my friend she should dye her hair back to its natural color. Not sure how this young lad obtained my number, but a few nights later I get a phone call from him asking if I could pick him up from the bar. My friend with dyed hair had ditched me earlier to hang out with some other needy jerk, so I was game for some chauffeuring.
I waited for him and saw him emerge from the bar literally beating drunk girls off of him. One stubborn one held on until he got to my car and he opened my door a crack and slid in and she just kind of eventually slid off. He skipped through the CD that was in my car and screamed like a small child: “OMG SNOOP DOGG!!” He gave me really botched directions to his house and when we finally got there he got all weird and handsy-hands and when he realized I was not into it he started BAWLING. I asked what was the matter and from his snot bubbled mumblings it was a cross between all of his past girlfriends cheating on him and his dad’s disappointment over his quest for a real-estate license. He still tried to get all handsy-hands despite his epic pity party, so I swaddled him in his cologne scented blanket/towel pile like a wee baby until he fell asleep and BOLTED.
The next morning, I was standing in on some retarded middle of nowhere college art critique when my phone would not stop going off. Low and behold it was Precious Captain Bleach Teeth. I got around to calling him back and he was exploding at me because apparently, somebody side swiped his roommates car, and the only logical suspect was little miss sober sensible pants me. He demanded to see my car… I said yeah go look it’s in the top corner of the parking ramp by that big black graffiti penis… He was like nooooo come over! I was like no way cry baby and hung up. The dude kept calling. He called for like 3 weeks ‘just to talk’. It was the freakiest shit ever. He’d be like “heeeey what are you up to? I’m going to the bar wanna hang out after?” Finally I just lied to him and told him I was actually a man with no penis. He believed me and I have not had to deal with him (Or return to that god forsaken middle of nowhere college) since.
More to come.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Business Adventures: Episode 1: Starting Out


It may or may not be known, but I recently graduated with a degree in Public Education with a minor in Studio Art. I already had a job when I graduated (Natural foods sales, customer coddling) so it was a good place to be when I realized I’d rather get molested by an elephant’s dirty old wrinkled trunk than set foot in the highly corrupted Minnesota Public School system ever again. (Not to mention get paid in peanuts and then use those peanuts to buy all my education materials for a classroom packed with 30 neglected children. No thank you.)
I ventured out with the other half of my degree in hand and am slowly but surely building my own business. What kind of business? CERAMICS. Here are the first few things I have thought to consider during this process.
1. Standing out from the other ceramic artists. How do I do that? By not throwing housewares on the wheel! That’s how. After being exposed to many an art show and many a ceramic artist, I realized that about 85% of these artists are all making bowls and cups and mugs and jugs. How many bows and cups and mugs and jugs does this word need? Better yet, how many 25$ mugs do people need? Do these people not realize that you can wander into some weird company promotional event and walk out with free mugs and cups galore? I’ll stick with hand building thank you. Besides, what seems to be more reasonable: A $25 mug or a 25$ sculpture? I’m going to go with the sculpture. People don’t fall in love with mugs, they fall in love with ‘art’.
2. Promotion. Although it is widely believed that today, more than ever the internet is our top promoter for all things that exist, LOCATION is also key. Living in the Twin Cities (my home town!) is going to be far more beneficial than if I had wandered north to work in solitude. A. I already have a job here. B. The more people around the area, the more potential customers you have. Not to mention all the piddly diddly craft shows I could enter. If I lived in the middle of the woods I’d probably waste all my profit driving back and forth from rural craft shows.
3. Funding. I can’t be stupid and quit my day job. My day job is what funds this. Along the line, maybe I will be able to. But until then I can’t go all ‘Dreams come true!’ attitude on everyone. I have to accept that this will be a mountain. It will be hard. It might even suck. But working a regular hourly job while doing ceramics on the side is much better than being a teacher who constantly gets shit on everyday for practically the same wage. (Probably less, I’m guessing.)
Was my education degree a waste of time? Perhaps, considering my grades were 90% straight A’s and anything less (A-) was because I just didn’t feel like proving myself with bullshit jr. high level reading worksheets. College is a waste. Don’t go unless your dream REQUIRES a degree. Would I be where I am now without mine? Probably, and I would have some extra thousands of dollars laying around to boot.
I recently got a request for my first custom ceramic order. Its a biggie and can run into the the 3 digit price range. Updates to come. Pray for me so that I don’t fuck this up, and I can later rub it in some doubtful faces.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

People Interactions Episode 1: The Helicopter Parents and their Victim, The Peanut


As someone who once dreamed of being a teacher, I have a lot of faith in kids. I speak to them, not down to them as most people do, and I trust that they will speak to share their observations, ideas, and concerns. (Which they also usually do.)
Unfortunately, the rise of the overprotective I-Have-No-Faith-In-Anyone-Else’s-Decision-Making Helicopter Parents (And a few childless activists to boot) have demolished the rights of school age children and adults alike across the United States to enjoy peanut goods on school grounds and other public venues.  Why just peanuts? There’s 8 top allergens, not just one! (Fish, shellfish, dairy, soy, wheat, peanuts, tree nuts, and egg.) Why are we targeting the peanut?
In the last classroom I worked in, there was one child (out of 30. Get that? A classroom of fucking 30 kids and one teacher. No wonder our system is failing.) who had a peanut allergy. He was eleven, so he was well aware he had this allergy.   He knew that he shouldn’t eat peanuts or go around french kissing other girls and boys who just ate peanuts. He was a bright and capable young man. 
We had a Valentines Day party and snacks were made available. Peanut butter cups were involved, and contrary to what his mother believed, this kid was well aware that he should not be eating peanut butter cups. The party was great, lots of awkward valentine exchanges, and everyone went home unscathed.
Apparently, allergy kid gave his peanut butter cups away on the bus, but was polite enough to collect everyones trash and candy wrappers before he got off at his bus stop.
The next day I arrived to school and heard this weird squawking sound coming from the principals office. Then I heard the principal say “There’s the student teacher maybe she can provide you with better answers.”
Holy shit. Here came stay-at-home helicopter mom barreling straight at me, complete with no gainful employment and all the free time you could ask for. (Thank you principal, for pawning her off on me because you avoid all forms of parental confrontation.)
‘Squawk squawk squawk peanuts squawk squawk allergy squawk squawk COULD HAVE DIED!!! Squawk squawk you are a horrible person and influence squawk squawk squawk!”
“Your son didn’t eat any peanuts ma’am, he knows he is not supposed to…He’s a bright and capable young man.”
“SQUAWK!! He came home with peanut butter cup wrappers!! SQUAWK SQUAWK!! He ingested peanuts HE COULD HAVE DIED SQUAWK SQUAWK!”
“Um… I believe your son is well aware that he cannot eat peanut products… Besides if he ate them wouldn’t he be in the hospital right now?”
Her face contorts to ‘lemon’ expression. This tells me that she was full of shit to begin with. At this moment I look out the window and notice her kid making the weird ‘pussy eating’ hand gesture at some other… boys…
“Perhaps we can shift your concerns to your sons playground behavior?”
She ignored my comment and stormed back into the principals office and continued her squawking. After that fiasco everything that contained nuts was banned from our school building. Imagine that. Because one dumb bitch can’t trust that her own eleven year old is capable of not ingesting peanuts, the whole school has to suffer. (May I also make note that there were more students with fish and milk allergies at this school than peanut allergies but we still served fish sticks and milk at lunch… hmmm…) I also found out this year that most schools in my district have banned all things peanut. And if I’m flying on a plane with someone with a peanut allergen, low and behold because I am in the ’10 row zone’ I have to settle for nutrient devoid ginger snaps instead of a wholesome mini bag of peanuts because I might be vindictive enough to sprinkle my left over peanut dust on their head.
I understand that allergies can be a scary thing. They can lead to death. But I trust  that those who have them are capable of educating themselves and picking and choosing the right environments and making their own inquiries.(i.e.: Not going on a tour of Pearson’s Nut Roll Factory, asking the right questions at a food establishment, reading food labels, playing it safe, etc)
There is no need to deny everyone certain foods (nuts, soy, wheat, fish etc.) in establishments that would normally have those things because a small percent of an even smaller percent of people forgot their epi-pen at home. (Or have Helicopter Mom hovering over them…) If you can’t even be in the same room as a peanut how do you even leave your house everyday? I’m not hating, just really goddamn curious. WHY THE PEANUT?!

Sunday, September 2, 2012

‘How Not To Get Fat At A Labor Day Barbecue’: What?!?!?!


I was checking my e-mail when this lovely article came a blazin’ through my feed. I decided to break it down for the faint of heart, or for those who don’t feel like reading 30 paragraphs of Mayonnaise is the Devil.
Before we get started, I will tell you the real secret to ‘not getting fat’ at a labor day barbecue. Or at all. Drink water all the fucking time. Dehydration happens way more often than we think. We often mistake dehydration for hunger. So. If you are hungry, drink 16 oz of water first. And if you are at the fatty pants labor day barbecue, keep chugging water the entire time. You’l be too full to indulge in seconds. Hopefully.
So! The article rambles on an on about how many calories are in each item. Well, of course they have calories, it’s real food your article is talking about here, lady. Not the tasteless fat free shit.
1. Mayo Based Salad: To each their own. I’m smart enough to be able to tell when a ‘salad’ is ‘swimming in mayonnaise’. That means it has a mayo based sauce, like potato salad or chicken salad. Luckily, You can either pass, eat a little or a lot, or choose a different salad. Obstacle avoided. Its not like you plan on pigging out on potato salad for the next two weeks.
2. Hot Dogs: Everyone who pays attention to anything knows that hot dogs are loaded with everything unpleasant but they taste so goddamn good. Eat one? Fine. Just don’t eat more than one. No news here, moving on!
3. Dip. Fuck you lady, I like my dip. I’ll eat 7 layer dip until I turn into a pinto bean. Loaded with calories? Yeah. The mayonnaise based dips. But don’t you go hating on beans cheese lettuce tomato chives olives and sour cream. Cause the only ingredient that will do nothing for you is the sour cream. The rest of those ingredients your body can use and poop out later.
4. Chips. Another no-brainer. As long as you come away from this barbecue not finishing an entire bag of chips, I will consider you unscathed.
5. Loaded hamburgers. Apparently a burger can run you up to about 700 calories. Well, I’m sure the number can be cut in half if you have a nice little 3-4oz  burger patty as opposed to the man’s man half pounder. Room for more calories!
6. Frozen Margarita and Daiquiri mixes. This lady says you should put a lot of liquor in each one so then you’ll magically limit your self to 1 or 2. This woman has obviously never drank before. She should have just said take a bunch of shots of low calorie Bacardi with a little sprinkle of mix added to it. You’re sloshed and it didn’t take 250+ calories to do it. Woot!
7. Baked beans. Okay, other than total fat-asses and baked bean enthusiasts, who honestly even eats AN ENTIRE 400 CALORIE SERVING CUP of baked beans? When there’s all this other stuff around are you seriously going to go beyond a spoonful of beans? That’s not even a cup. This lady is bean-biased.
8. Ice cream. Yeah I’m going to eat ice cream. I don’t care if its almost 600 calories for a monster serving that I won’t finish. Its the end of summer and its depressing.
9. Fried chicken. Apparently one piece of fried chicken is 300-350 calories. And apparently in this lady’s crazy world fried chicken must be the only food at this picnic because once again, unless you’re already fat, why would you load up on more than two pieces? And are you really gonna sit there and gnaw chicken to the bone when you have beans and dip to eat?!
10. Fruit pie. As mentioned before, unless I have a shopping bag for a stomach, I don’t think I will be indulging in fruit pie after my ice cream. Save it for the host’s leftovers. Their reward for having all these hungry creeps at their house.
Another perspective: It’s not like your going to down this 1500 calorie fest in one sitting. You’re at a barbecue. You’ll be there for hours. (1500 calories in 4 hours? that’s like 375 calories per hour. Do you plan on eating every hour on the hour for the rest of the day? I hope not. You’re safe.) Hopefully there’s more going on than everyone sitting around and eating. Hopefully that weird golfball attached to a rope game is set up. If you’re really that worried, you can always stick your finger down your throat and barf it back up.
Happy Labor Day! Stay Hydrated!