Monday, April 28, 2008

Wait a second! Is that Lisa's music?

I want a soundtrack. How awesome would that be? Music that just followed you everywhere, either as your calling card before entering a ring, or just to reflect your current mood. It's been in the Family Guy, I want it in my life.

Imagine how much more likely you would be to actually go grocery shopping if you knew you could moonwalk down the cereal aisle to "Billy Jean" as you happily grabbed boxes of Lucky Charms?

How much easier it would be to understand a girl's mood, if as you approached her, you heard "Symphony of Destruction," by Megadeath playing in the background.

Different songs, different scenarios.

A song for when I cartwheel out of bed in the morning, ready to take on the day! (“Fat Bottomed Girls” – Queen) A song for arriving at my desk and seeing I have 160 new emails since last night, and 19 of them are marked "urgent." (“Cool It Now” – New Edition) A song for a Friday afternoon drive home for a long weekend (“Break My Stride” – Matthew Wilder)…and then a completely different song when you hit Cape and/or Maine/NH traffic (“Why Aren’t We Moving?” – Lisa, as yelled in her Accord)

Some people have this choice, and those people are called professional baseball players.

Whether it's the walk to the plate or the jog to the mound, they get to pick a song.

Assuming I would be a "closer" (per my work review that says I'm great at coming through in the clutch, but need to work on consistency...) I've given a lot of thought to my song.

I've chosen "Da Rockwilder" by Method Man (feat. Redman) because I think it is the greatest beginning of a song, ever. I get pumped every single time I hear it. Seriously. I jog towards a mound and throw things when I hear that song, even if that mound is a pile of laundry on the floor and I’m hurling eyeliner across the room…you get my point.

So what’s your song/scenario? I’ve let you in, people…it’s only fair you do the same….

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Hot vs. Cute - Tell me what you want, what you really, REALLY want....

It is currently a topic of much debate and it needs to be addressed. Hot vs. Cute. What does it mean? Why does it matter?

No girl wants to just be cute. It's a fact. Girls want to be pretty or hot. Can you be both? Sure...kinda...ish.

Speaking from personal experience, being told I'm "sooooo cute" makes me want to die inside. Luckily, I am already dead inside. Moving on...

Hypothetically, if a boy told a girl that she "reminded him of a pomeranian, bouncing around smiling and laughing all the time," how is she supposed to take that? Said boy does not take said girl seriously if in his head, she resembles a lap dog.

Do boys like being told they are "cute?" Wouldn't a guy rather be hot? Is that really hard to grasp?

I'm getting heated...weigh in on comments and take the survey...ready...GO!

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Red, gold and green

I have this horrible habit of trusting people. Even strangers. Why? Because I'm a sucker, that's why.

I'm the perfect person to approach at North Station with the "I had a huge fight with my boyfriend this morning and we broke up and I need some money to get a train home," line. Why? Sucker. Sure, I'll see the same girl in North Station the very next day telling the exact same story to an unsuspecting stranger and for one brief fleeting moment I'll think, "You broke up with him AGAIN?! Did you not learn your lesson yesterday?"

Walking home from a bar one night my friends and I were approached by a couple in need of help. The story they told us was an intricate web of lies that my trusting soul got trapped in, not unlike the ants I used to throw into spider webs when I was younger. Granted sobriety was not exactly a shield I could protect myself with that night, but had I not been a few drinks deep at that point I most likely would have reacted the exact same way.

They were out for dinner. Their car got towed. They needed $20 to get a train home so they could go get the car. (What train costs $20? I don't know. Stay with me here.) The woman had four teeth and had clearly spent too much time in the sun as a youth (which, from what I could tell, was a very long time ago). The gentleman was a little more put together but was wearing a Starter jacket. He also claimed he was a chef at the Legal Seafood in the airport. Chefs don't lie! He actually validated it by saying, "you probably think this is a con, but it's not." What a ridiculous line. Who would possibly fall for that? This girl.

I tried to resist it. In my head, I even start to think "this is such a con," but out comes my wallet. I justify it afterwards by thinking, "Hey, maybe these people needed this money more than I do right now....maybe they are in a dire situation and aren't just con artists...maybe they have a baby who needs formula?" Probably not. The more likely story is that I just enabled a drug habit. Still gives me the warm fuzzies though, I helped someone!

So the moral of the story is...ask me for money. No. That's not it. The moral is that I hope if one day I ever have to rely on strangers in an emergency, someone will help me. Lots of crappy things could happen. What if I lost my phone and wallet simultaneously while I happened to be all alone and far away from home? Exactly. Karma is a chameleon. It come and go, come and go....and it better come my way if I need it.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Celery is nature's spoon.

When you think of Einstein, you may think of the theory of relativity. It's a defining part of the legacy that he left behind and will forever be associated with his name.

I have my own theory, and while it's not as complicated as "the curvature of spacetime with the mass, energy, and momentum within it," I feel just as strongly about it.

The Theory of the Dip Vehicle.

I love potato chips. I enjoy potato chips, plain, right out of the bag. However, if you place a bowl of french onion dip on the table in front of me (or anywhere in the room for that matter, I'll find it), the chip takes on a whole new role. It's no longer a simple salty snack. The chip undergoes a metamorphosis, becoming nothing more than a vehicle for me to get as much dip into my mouth as possible. Sorry chip, I'm just using you.

This theory is reinforced across countless snack and dip combinations.

Tostitos? Great. You know what's better? Tostitos Scoops. Why? The Theory of the Dip Vehicle. The Scoop is bascially a white corn bowl of whatever you decided to eat. It is especially key for things like buffalo chicken dip, which are a little heartier and require that additional reinforcement if you're really going to get a big bite. (Note: If your preferred method of consuming buffalo chicken is freebasing, I support that as well.)

Shrimp cocktail is delicious. I will scoop, twist my arm and contort myself like Gumby to ensure the maximum amount of cocktail sauce remains on that crustacean at all times.

The vegetable platter (or crudite, if you're a snob) is a shining example of the Theory in action.

As I approach a vegetable platter (slowly and deliberately, like a cheetah stalking its prey), you might think I would reach for the carrots first, which are usually the best tasting of all the options. Carrots are, in fact, the best vegetable choice if we are living in Hell-on-Earth where we're in some sort of dip recession and are on dip rations.

However, if all is good and well in the world, the first item I'm reaching for is celery. Celery is nature's spoon. It has a groove! That groove is there for a reason. It has a purpose. The purpose is to hold some variety of dip. Sour cream based? Cream cheese? Peanut butter? Celery lovingly embraces this deliciousness with its loving cellulose arm-grooves.

Maybe some day it will be acceptable to just eat french onion dip with a spoon. That day will be my own personal V-Day. Until that day have to just approach each snacking situation carefully, holding steadfast to the Theory of the Dip Vehicle and reaching out to select the best snack for the job. I encourage you to do the same. Think before you dip. Choose wisely.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

A Magical Animal

There you are!

I've been trying to start this blog for about two weeks now and the main thing holding me back was the title.

I ended up with Color Me Blah because that's how I feel about a lot of things, and it also emphasizes my love for terrible music.

As it turns out, asking your friends to help you name a blog is an interesting exercise in "discovering what your friends really think about you." I experienced a similar phenomenon at my father's retirement party, when "Baby Got Back" came on and multiple members of my family yelled, "This is Lisa's song!"

Thankfully, none of the names suggested by my friends had an impact on my already distorted self-image but most hinted on me being extremely sarcastic and I started to wonder if that really defines me....

I dug deep into my soul, as well as deep into a bag of Cape Cod potato chips, to try to find the answer.

The answer is yes.

I'm not sure I will really have anything interesting to say on this thing but I hope to, at the very least, make you laugh..or maybe just snicker...or maybe want to go get a Snickers? I'm never one to underestimate the power of words.....