Category Archives: Weird as Hell

Hindsight is 20/20

So today, Bri decided to delve into the ever-deepening cesspool on Facebook that’s better known as “Photos and Videos of You.”

Back in the day, everyone concerned themselves with the prospect of being Totally Exposed if anyone found the photos they had been tagged in where they were drinking…GASP…and at parties.

Obviously Drinking and Partying fall directly into the category of Shocking Behavior That College Students Regularly Participate In.

Constant Vigilance was necessary.  Because you know, stalk-y professors and your Sorority President might find out.

LIKE THEY DIDN’T ALREADY KNOW when they saw you rolling around campus with that unwashed ponytail and a sweatshirt that was three sizes too big?

I didn’t know you were so into blaze orange crewnecks these days.

I’m totally comfortable at this point in my life saying that I’m zero percent concerned when I think about people digging through tagged pictures of me and discovering 18 year-old Kat with a can of The Beast in her hand.

What I am concerned about?  The fact that people can still find snaps of me that are just outright horrifying.  We’re talking the types of pictures where retrospectively, I should have snatched the camera from the offender’s hands immediately after the shutter clicked.

For example, this snap below in which my first reaction was WHY ARE YOU CHANNELING MICHAEL JACKSON?!

Yes, we share a penchant for Lorazepram (how else do you think I manage to board an airplane so calmly?) and sequins.  But as far as I’m concerned, that’s really where our similarities end.

As they say, hindsight is 20/20.

Did you try to hide anything that (retrospectively!) was deadly-apparent in college?

What’s the most unflattering picture you’ve discovered of yourself on Facebook?

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Those People

What needs to be addressed…

Uno: I saw the Extreme Bow Hunting-guy on the freeway last Friday when I was driving to work.

To jog your memory…

Before you ask, yes, I’m positive that it was the same guy.

First and foremost, I refuse to believe that there are any other people rampaging around the Minneapolis/St. Paul metro area with a truck that has been tricked out like that.  Secondly (and more logically), the truck I was cruising with had firefighter plates and unless this is some sort of bizarre-o underground fire department thing that I’m just not privy to, IT HAD TO BE HIM.

Dos: When we were out for Jody’s birthday on Saturday night, our waitress felt the need to publicize her son’s business by festively distributing his business card along with the check.

Yes, that was weird.

But the card itself was weirder, and basically cancelled out any of the initial weirdness.

These things happen sometimes.

I’m not sure what made her decide that we were the kind of people who obviously had a gaping hole in our lives that could only be filled by this…

…but apparently, we just are.

Starring: Cletus…The Mechanical Bull.

Seriously?

I die.

Have you ever had a server who has given you something that’s just a little bit off with the check?

Do you ever commute with the same drivers?

Last year, I spent some quality time on the drive home with Extremist Bumper Sticker Man.  This spring?  I’ve found that if I leave the house ~5 minutes late, Maserati Man and I end up driving the entirety of our commute (within a block) together.

Operation: Trenta

I preface this by saying that I rarely go out for coffee.  I love brewing a pot and sitting in our sunny kitchen, either catching up on blogs, or trying to address my ongoing battle against the pile of magazines that threaten to overtake me at any minute.

So in February, I decided that in the spirit of That One Time Where I Ate A Big Mac Snack Wrap For The Team (depraved), I wanted to try the Starbucks Trenta.  If you’ve been living blissfully unawares, the Trenta is a 31 ounce caffeineated behemoth (it only comes in iced coffee or iced tea) meant to spread enlightenment and energy to The Masses.

Since there are some paths that no one should walk alone, I managed to rope Kirsten and Megan into doing it with me.

Insanity loves company.

Starbucks tried to thwart us, because while allegedly the Trenta would be available nationwide on May 3rd, it apparently is not available in Northern markets.

Tricky.

But not to be deterred, we were hell-bent on drinking a Trenta of something.

Mere mortals might have called it a day, but no.  Two Grandes and an extra ounce of coffee later, I was on the warpath.

At which point the barista subjected me to an interrogation as to whether or not I wanted my coffee sweetened.  Truly, the only conversation topic that could have been more complex at that particular moment in time is the Middle East Peace Process.  But, after a bit of a debate, we managed to come to the conclusion that since I was [technically] ordering two coffees, we could sweeten one and leave the other.

They say that variety is the spice of life, no?

I decided to try to down the unsweetened coffee first since I thought that the sweetener might mask some of the watered-down flavor of the second coffee.  Not that drinking 32 ounces of coffee requires some sort of epic strategy.

But it might.

About 1 1/2 hours in, I finished the first one while I watched NBC’s Mint Julep-laden coverage of the Kentucky Derby.  This was a feat in and of itself in the sense that I probably only drink 12 ounces of coffee a day to begin with.

But the Trenta isn’t about moderation.  It’s about going big or going to the bathroom.

And as I picked up my second coffee, I had the dreadful realization that the coffee and I were basically going to be soulmate-ing until the finish.  By soulmate-ing, I mean that I was committing to being That Girl who carries her coffee shop cup with her everywhere.

Little did I know that the finish line would be 3 1/2 hours later in the middle of meeting the new baby.

Yes, this means that all signs point to me planning on finishing a marathon faster than I’m able to consume 32 ounces of coffee without becoming violently ill.

By the time that I put the second cup in the bin, I was  walking circus.  In writing terms, I was 100% stream of consciousness.  Which was all right and good, I guess.  I say this with the full knowledge that I couldn’t hold a conversation for more than two minutes at a time because EVERYTHING WAS JUST SO INTERESTING.

Her hair.  That wallpaper.  Is that a crumb on his shirt?  Our waiter’s glasses.  I didn’t know they made focaccia here.  Why are we all drinking water out of tiny cups?

Our world is an endlessly fascinating place, kittens.

The biggest surprise of the day?  When I hit the wall at 11 PM, I slept like an absolute rock.  Go figure.

Do they sell the Trenta where you live?

Are you a coffee drinker?  How much coffee do you drink on a daily basis?

In all seriousness, total jankiness aside, the fun-sized coffee pot I had from my freshman year of college was absolutely perfect for me because Marcus doesn’t drink coffee and I can’t drink a ton of it.

P.S. If you didn’t click on their names earlier in the post, click here to read Kirsten and Megan’s experiences doing battle against the Trenta!

Noted.

Kittens, as per yesterday’s post, I don’t know that we’ve gotten that fussed about a food group since I ate the cheese off of the bottom of the pie pan.

To draw a completely non-scientific conclusion, cheese-lovers are also jam-lovers.

Noted.

Where does that leave me?  Sitting on the couch watching Weeds (they FINALLY released the 6th season on DVD – thank you Netflix!) and sipping red wine.

Calling?  Or Calling?

You be the judge.

I’m filing it under Worthy Ways To Spend A Tuesday Night.

And now, a detour into the land of random.

After last year’s post-South Padre encounter with a former inmate from San Quentin (yes, seriously), Billy decided that Panama City Beach wasn’t even in the running as far as Spring Break destinations were concerned.

So, somehow at the last-minute he ended up in Myrtle Beach, SC.

There was some sort of actual decision-making process behind this sojourn, but given that I didn’t even know he was out of the state until he was past Lexington, Kentucky, it was neither here nor there.

Little brothers are so tricky sometimes.  Even when they’re 21.

Getting back to the point, today for whatever reason that the golf course wasn’t calling their names, they all went fishing at the pier.

Totally normal.  A lovely pastime.  It’s something that Billy does all the time when we’re Up North at the Cabin.

Until he caught a Sand Shark.

I don’t know about you all, but that is NOT something that happens at the end of the dock on Big Pine Lake.

When he texted me that picture this morning, I was all like, Why can’t you do normal spring break things like binge drinking and stuff?

But another one of his friends managed to reel in a stingray.  So I suppose in the scheme of things, Billy actually got the better end of the bargain.

Right?

What’s the one vacation destination you would NEVER return to?  Was it dirty?  Was it frightening?  Was it a lawless land?  Spill.

Do you fish?  What’s the strangest thing you’ve caught?

I used to fish off of the pontoon when I was  little pup.  I never caught anything particularly fascinating, but every once in a while, one of the cousins would catch a snapping turtle or something equally as bizarre.

p.s. Both animals were released back into the wild.  Billy and I were raised in a you kill it, you eat it-type of house.

Being Reveled

Exhaustion strikes, kittens.  Wisconsin is falling apart at the seams.  We managed to dodge not one, but two rounds of snow this week.  But that doesn’t stop me from sharing pearls of wisdom like they’re going out of style.

Life Lesson: Don’t write your promotional tweets at 10:30 PM when your “A” key is on the fritz and you’re on your second glass of Chardonnay.  Instead of “revealed,” you will be “reveled.”

I almost broke into a fit of hysterical laughter when I saw this one.  Which would have been totally fine, except for the fact that Marcus was sound asleep next to me.

Trainwreck.

Today, The Power Color at work was red.  Last week, it was teal.  It’s kind of like Pantone.  Except the complete opposite and on a micro-scale.  Who knows what next week may bring.

Fingers and toes it’s orange, kittens.  That actually IS the color of spring this year.  Part of me wants to invest, but the other part of me is 99.9% positive that I already have three orange tops hanging in my closet and that’s really probably enough.

Speaking of workday discoveries, I’m getting a heinous zit on my chin.

Even though this is basically the most disgusting/dull thing I could possibly admit to y’all, you have to understand that I’ve been blessed with great skin (and I mean that in the least-vain way possible).

To clarify, I have, I never wash my face or take off any of my make-up and the world doesn’t come crashing down around me-great skin.

I don’t even own any concealer.

So “unacceptable” doesn’t even really begin to describe the situation.

We finally watched the season finale of GREEK.  Which, basically snuck up on us.

Yes, it was low-budget.

Yes, it was on ABC Family.

Yes, it had extremely gimick-y moments.

But for all of that, it was real.  It was Greek Life.  And I know that I’m not the only person who is positive that I met all of those people at school.

The ending?  Was intense.  I don’t think either one of us looked at the other once during the entire show.  And surprisingly enough, after we finished it, Marcus was the one to observe that it was one of the most depressing moments on television…Ever.

Which of your favorite shows have gone off the air?

Even though The Office’s number is definitely up, I live in fear of the day that it ends.

How often do you end up matching your co-workers?  Did you have a power color at work this week?

Honestly, for all of the extremely bizarre colors I wear (thank you, J.Crew sale rack!), I’m surprised by how often I’m matching at least one co-worker.

A black hole

Obviously you all remember when we began purging useless crap from my parents’ place like the Beanie Baby tree.

Yesterday, these met their final fate in the trash.

They stood no chance.

I was actually fairly horrified that these had even made it past 2000. 

My childhood bedroom?  A black hole.

Double-Whammy

We were at Grand Old Days today and I thought I should show you a shot of the best-of-the-best.

Until five hours ago, I didn’t know they made Baby Bjorns for Chihuahuas.

I’m still not entirely sure what the point of Grand Old Days is, beyond walking a ridiculous amount (5 miles) and participating in a slightly watered-down version of the State Fair food-wise (yes, I did the cheese curds).  But, the weather here was so perfect that being outside was the only logical choice.

Street-stands and pavement aside, we visited Just Truffles, which is a chocolate shop that’s been featured on Oprah.  I picked out a Carmel-Peanut Butter Cup that was probably too expensive, but tasted incredible.

Fast-forward to a brief moment at mi parentes casita (I really hope that means my parents’ house en espanol).  Mom is undergoing a purging-phase that involves re-doing my childhood bedroom into a guest room (yes!), downsizing her hat-collection, and yes, getting rid of the Beanie Baby Tree.

Honestly, I’m not quite sure how it managed to make it to 2010.  And no, it hasn’t been inhabiting the living room for the last ~13 years, Billy had to bring it downstairs to begin the purge-process.  We sibling no-voted the opportunity to put this totem pole from hell on the curb with a “FREE” sign attached.  We have to allow our neighbors to allow to maintain some semblance of dignity.