Thursday, August 30, 2012

another full house blog!?!?!?

This August began with this blog indirectly revealing my unabashed allegience to a little sitcom called Full House....and today's blog is going to directly reveal this fact...so buckle up, kiddos...its about to take a detour to Lamesville.

This sad savantism for all things Tanner has never really been a secret. I've completely become at peace with this embarrassing aspect of my personality. I came. I'm lame. I'm Kimmie. Get used to it.  [Tangent: My knowledge about this program and it's impact on my childhood can only be rivaled by Saved By the Bell and possibly 90210.] My favorite thing in life is Fridays and reading the entries on Full House Reviewed, a site my friend Ryan pointed out to me several months back. Basically its a guy who angrily watches every episode and writes entries like these:

" Michelle’s good side dresses like a hippy and tells her not to do bad things and the evil one dresses like Little Steven from the E Street band and acts like a condescending asshole, which isn’t really very much different from how Michelle acts most of the time anyway."


"Jesse eagerly tells DJ that he hopes his twins are a boy and a girl so he can name them Elvis and Priscilla. Ok, never mind how creepy his stupid Elvis obsession is even, just think about how he wants to name his children after a married couple. Jesse then goes on a big thing about how a persons name determines their whole life and then DJ asks him why he’s so obsessed with names even though he just explained why. Jesse then alludes to having gotten some shit about his name as a kid but then he doesn’t want to say more, which prompts DJ to invade his privacy in the very near future. What else did he think would happen? Privacy and the full house are like Joey and hilarious jokes."

I could really go on and on because I exchange favorite passages every Friday with Ryan, Jamie and my friend and fellow blogger Carri. [Tangent: One would think with all this hype that I know this blogger or am receiving kickbacks, but that is false. I just genuinely am just an ardent fan.] This week, the blogger behind fullhousereviewed.com, has moved on to the Steve episodes and I was reminded of my childhood crush on Steve... and Alladin by proxy. [Tangent: Yeah, I had a crush on a cartoon character when I was younger...what of it? Alladin was a ripped Arab from the wrong side of the tracks. He was able to pull of harem pants, could sing and dance and owned a pet monkey. I'm sure that answers your question over why I was smitten.]

even though alladdin has no nipples, he is still an attractive cartoon.

About a year ago, this same friend who turned me on to the website, sent me a picture of a Full House board game that he spotted at Goodwill with the caption: "This is $2, do you need this." Although, I said I probably didn't, Ryan bought it for me anyway and despite seeing me at least bimonthly, he has been hoarding it at his house.  [Tangent: I was starting to believe he was an Indian giver or was using this game to pick up ladies, because what lady doesn't love the Tanner clan.]


On Tuesday night, at Trivia, he finally brought me the game and it was thrilling. I was imagining all the boozy game nights playing my new game, before coming to the startling conclusion that no one was actually gonna play this with me.  In fact the whole game is like Sorry, in that you are trying to get your Tanner back around the board back to the Full House [Tangent: I think its obvious that I would permanently be Gibbler, because I have rocked that nickname for years.] Along the way you have occasionally pick up Joey's joke cards, which are just as dated and obnoxious as his actual standup routine on the show. It saddened me that its likely no one would actually wanna play this game...luckily my boyfriend made me feel slightly better....
the fact that he emoji'd the "cut it out" made me love him a little more. It's clear we are tremendous nerds.
This textchange slalomed me into a late night google image search of Full House ridiculousness where I found things like this:

 ...and learned that Walter aka "duckface" aka Stephanie Tanner's secret boyfriend who she kinda dicked over has not really aged at all. He still looks the exact same. 

 [Tangent: I wonder how he feels about teenage girls totally stealing his duckface look and plastering their selfies all over Facebook? The world may never know.]

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

fair time!

For about a week, my ginger and I have been plotting to go to the Wilson County Fair. [Tangent: If you aren't from middle Tennessee, you are likely unfamiliar. It's a huge fair, aka Carnie-pa-looza, that is annually held in Lebanon, which is about an hour from my house...and I drove there all the way on the interstate. That may seem like small potatoes to some, but I am a ginormous puss when it comes to changing lanes so for the last 3 years, I have gotten most everywhere via back roads. Though a circuitous way of doing things, it has made me a master navigator. But that's another topic altogether.] Neither of us had ever been, which was weird because we are both moths to a flame when it come to fatty food dispensing spectacles. We have been hyping like it is the second coming of Christ. For seven days, our conversations were permeated with what the deep fried snickers bars and how amazing it was gonna be to see monkeys riding dogs. [Tangent: Yep, you heard me. You probably know that I am obsessed with the concept because I have mentioned it before here. It puts two of my favorite animals together in a delightfully ridiculous fashion, how could anyone hate that? ]

As I waited for Jamie to meet me at the house so we could go meet up with our other friends and go onward and upward to Wilson County, it began to torrentially downpour. The wind was immediately knocked out of our cotton candy sails. Why God, why?!?! All I wanted in life was to spend my Saturday there. We opted not to throw in the towel right away, but instead just prolong the magic a bit. The new plan was to go to Donelson (about 35 minutes away) and eat Irish pub fair at McNamera's with everyone while waiting for the storm to blow over. [Tangent: It was a brilliant idea for us all to drink wine or whiskey or beer before going on carnival rides in the August heat. First prize goes to Josh for his Guiness and mussels combo, which assuredly would be a poor choice if they were to represent themselves after a spin in the Gravitron. Luckily the 6 of us went vomit free. We are pros.] While at our early dinner, all we could talk about was what we were gonna eat at the fair. Fried butter, fried candy bars, fried corn, fried oreos and the mysterious taco in a bag; so many culinary options. Sadly my eyes were bigger than my stomach, and the only food I ate was a funnel cake...but it was worth every bit of those million powdered sugared deep fried calories. 
 Immediately when we got there at around 6:30, I was overwhelmed. Stimulation overload. People in jorts running amuck...the smell of fried and animal feces....people and lights and sounds coming at me in stereo. Being that it was my best friend's first trip to any fair, [Tangent: I know...I know...how is that possible? This is America.] she got first pick of rides. While she and a few others rode giant swings (that are just like the old Opryland ride called The Tennessee Waltz) Jamie and I tried to investigate where the monkey derby was going to be. We absolutely had our priorities straight. 
I love this picture. I want to have my vision altered so it sees things in Instagram.

excited face!
We got to the site of the Banana Derby, a little pen that smelled of monkey and were the geeks who were basically first in line for the show. Yes, we were more excited that the small children in front of us and had hyped it up so much that then our friends had wanted to witness this ridiculousness with us.
Wow...look how creepy this picture is! That child does not look too thrilled that a monkey is touching her thigh.
my friend Jess looked way more enthusiastic.
Wish I could say that I was overjoyed with the monkey derby. Don't get me wrong, it was adorable to see little old man faced primates clapping their hands atop sweet doggies, but I knew deep inside that they did not want to be sporting little satin jockey costumes that were sewed to the saddle, making escape impossible.  My fella and I did enjoy it though, even though I and most of my friends felt dirty afterwards. So dirty that I decided maybe I didn't wanna knock over all the children to score a picture with my favorite monkey jockey. Sigh...there's always next year. [Tangent: Jamie and I decided that if you had a picture with a monkey in a little yellow outfit, that would have to be your permanent facebook profile pic.]

Since that was now checked off our respective bucket lists, the next stop was obviously to ride some rides, only I guess I semi forgot that 90% of rides are not exactly wheelchair friendly.  [Tangent: I guess I assumed it would be like Disneyland and I would be ushered to the front and there wouldn't be a flight of rickety metal scaffolding to traverse. Delluded by wheelchair privledge, I reckon.] Almost everything either had freakishly long lines or looked like I would jostle me around way too much, so while my friends climbed aboard rides that throttled you up and down and upside down throwing caution and cell phones to the wind- we opted to go enjoy the family friendly/pussy area. Although sounding lame, the rides and attractions aimed at the under 10 set were way more our speed. We rode the family ferris wheel, which was more than enough excitement and allowed us to see all over the fairgrounds. [Tangent: Even it was a bit touch and go. The creaking of fair rides unsettles me a bit. ]
see...its even called the family wheel, which means it doesn't intimidate
the view from the top.
obligatory top of the ferris wheel pic: Kimmie edition.

obligatory top of the ferris wheel pic: Jamie edition
Because that slow paced creaky adventure cost us $8, we decided to go check out the petting zoo, which proved to be highly entertaining and free. This petting zoo was slightly terrifying. At first its all fun and games until a camel tries to eat your boyfriend's beard or you are swarmed by a gaggle of aggressively hungry goats. As soon as those little bastards see you pull out a carrot chip, you are overwhelmed with goat faces who look as if they have been on a week long coke bender.

he thinks his beard is some vegetation, I guess.

Jamie literally had to fight off this fella. His neck reached across the aisleway, so there was now way to escape his advances.

The attendant who dispensed us the bag o' animal snacks instructed us to keep a flat hand when feeding the animals, but even though I tried to do so, I was still convinced that I was gonna somehow get bitten.



 As you can tell by these pictures, I was bit hesitant and only truly fed 3 goats (and they were ones that I felt weren't as needy and therefore wouldn't mistake my fingers with veggies). Sometimes I just ended up throwing the food at them or taking pictures of my boyfriend feed them. When did I become that girl? 

Anyway- my first trip to the infamous Wilson County Fair was a good one, and I realized that me and my friends are getting old because the next day most everyone texted me how tired and/or sore they were. We are obviously not teenagers anymore. 

Friday, August 24, 2012

truck off

God. I love a food truck. Admittedly, they are one of the key motivators in determining my attendance at Nashville area gatherings.  I know...I know...they are really just restaurants on wheels, but I love a novelty. In fact, I should change my name to Spencer's Gifts because I am such a fan of novelties. [Tangent: Although this is a complete aside, has anyone been inside at Spencer's recently? I went in one last year to buy some bachelorette party staples like penis straws and a "bride to be" sash, and was astounded by the wall of graphic "marital aides." In my day, they specialized in fat lady greeting cards, Jack Daniel's hats, boobie mugs and unicorn black light posters- decidedly not dildos. They even have a door on their mall location to keep innocent eyes at bay. Upon entrance into the lair of low brow t-shirts and nipple clamps, I was suddenly 12 and had the case of the giggles. Where had the innocence gone? Apparently, it was still loitering at Claire's.] Really any excuse to order food out of a Winnebago is a valid one- so yesterday I took my mother and my Ginger to the McConnell House in Franklin to attend the Thursday Night Food Fight, where a bevy of Nashville food trucks gather while lots of people with babies (I felt we were in the minority because we didn't have a stroller) listen to a DJ and dine al fresco. 


 My fellow food festers went with the Hoss Burger, which I had never tried but it is basically a yummy big ol' burger patty with the cheese on the inside instead of on the exterior. What a concept! My mind was blown, yet I remained devoted to my grilled cheeserie, where I had a delightful buttermilk cheddar on sourdough with Benton's bacon and avacado aoli with a side of hibiscus mint marinated watermelon cubes. [Tangent: I think my saliva may have shortcircuited my macbook just thinking about it. Oh, and there was Mexican Coke in a glass bottle, which makes it taste so much better.]

 The decision was not an easy one, we made a couple laps before committing to our various mobile eateries. I passed over Biscuit Love which was incredibly difficult. [Tangent: At East Nashville's Tomato Arts Festival a couple week ago, I had their "Princess" which is a gargantuan piece of Prince's famous hot chicken on a big ol' biscuit topped with pickles and mustard. Although it gave me what my boyfriend refers to as "the itis,"  it has been the thing of day dreams for the last couple weeks. This 90 lb girl is such a fat kid inside.] Because I had been pre-game fasting all day and because I didn't wanna be tied down by one establishment, I decided dessert wasn't optional- it was mandatory. We opted for Dixie Belle's Cupcakes. I actually showed restraint because I wanted to get six, but settled on two- Strawberries & Cream and one called a Day & Night. One word- Delightful.
 
 So why did I write this, besides to make your mouth water and show how addicted I am to my diptic photo app? The blog is just a reminder to support your local food truck.  [Tangent: I am slowly trying to check them all off my list. Next stop hopefully is Wrapper's Delight, mostly because I am intrigued by their punny name and use of the Wu-Tang logo as their "W". That's just brilliant marketing.]

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

lookin for weird in all the wrong places...


If you are a fan of my blog on facebook, you know that one of my key motivators for keeping this site going is because I find the search terms wickedly entertaining. I am super sleepy today and although I want to write about the fantastic Lumineers concert I went to last night, my mind is not functioning enough to have coherent thought. For now you will have to settle for some terms used to find my blog in the last couple weeks. [Tangent: Some of these were used multiple times. Alarming. I know.]

  • Charmin toilet paper irritation
  • Dry heaving gif
  • What did the turtle mean to the jewish people? [I wish I knew. Jews, help me out!]
  • Care bear porn
  • U had me at bacon [I like to imagine that Prince did this search.]
  • Andre Agassi balding
  • best transvestite
  • Richard Simmons hair
  • Conan's freckles [SWOON!]
  • funny adult onesies
  • pencil drawings of Usher
  • spongebob cursing
  • Cher ass [This has been an oddly popular one!]
  • celestial angel mindfreak
  • teenage mustache 
  • Justin Bieber heart hands [Another oddly popular one] 
  • Spicy tranny
  • flesh ripping snake pencil art
  • Meth Mermaid [definitely see this being an awesome band name] 
I could really go on and on all the livelong day. However you find the blog, I am glad you did. [Tangent: Especially those 900 hits I got from a reddit.com poster last week and from the term "throw stuff in her butt" alone. You folks are as sick as I am.] Proving that at heart I am a people pleaser, I will leave you with a pencil drawing of Usher, because I am sure you were previously let down when my site didn't help you out on your quest.

Monday, August 20, 2012

...but I like ike.

Saturday, Jamie and I were on our way to go finally see The Dark Knight Rises [Tangent: My review: I never looked at my phone once, so it must have been good. My only problem is that it seems so blatantly obvious that Batman and Bruce Wayne are the same person. Even when both go into exile for 8 years, even his close friends aren't picking up on it. Clearly Gotham needs to teach more deductive reasoning in its classrooms.] when we stopped at the Walgreen's for some snacks to sneak into the movie. We are so edgy.

I opted for M&Ms, because candy without chocolate involved is a waste of time. Jamie went for the classic Mike & Ikes, [Tangent: Apparently the theme was ampersands.] however each box had either Mike or Ike crossed out like so:

Was it done in Sharpie or was some overqualified graphic designer paid to make it appear that the names had been haphazardly scribbled off. Jamie and I sat dumbfounded for longer than one should stare incredulously at movie sneak-in candies. The Walgreens lady in the aisle, stocking unseasonably early Halloween candy, cryptically offered, "I heard they broke up."

Broke up like lovers? Like bros? Like business associates? I had to get down to the bottom of this. Thank God the internet exists to validate my trivial concerns. On Saturday night, I could find very little info on why the sudden defamation of candy boxes, but since then, I've learned that it is all part of an elaborate guerilla advertising tactic to make an old timey candy relevant. Apparently per the company founded tumblr  (which has gotten ridiculously more professional and less geocities over the last couple days.) Mike and Ike are breaking their partnership [Tangent: Domestic or otherwise...who's to say.] to follow separate side projects. One is tackling music while the other is getting heavy into street art.  I wish I was making this up. [Tangent: Who am I kidding, this is totally giving me a mass comm boner.]

Also, they have completely backed up all this ridiculousness on the web by showcasing Mike's rap career and showing Ike to be a Banksy-like fella shrouded in darkness. [Tangent: Seriously. Lose yourself for a few minutes on the tumblr. ]  So one would think that that some batshit crazy American would find some way to find something despicable in all of this, and they have-enter Tony Perkins who says that this is all part of some homosexual agenda. Simmer, Tony and have a phallic shaped fruity candy.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

plumb ridiculous

The other day, I was catching up on my pressing Words With Friends/Scramble With Friends games while on the toilet. [Tangent: Don't judge. We all do it. I am just being up front with it. It is frankly the only time when I am distraction free for anywhere from 2-20 minutes.] How apropos that I was surrounded by tile and pipes, when this ad popped up during my playtime.
Surely, my eyes were just tired from a long day at work. My eyes HAD to be deceiving me. It could not be possible that the tiny iPhone screen could say, "Throw stuff in her butt" and furthermore that some sort of novelty game was based on this premise. I screen captured it and moved on with my afternoon.

It wasn't until later yesterday evening that I shared it with some of my friends at pub trivia. Immediately, we were trying to determine what this mystifying cell phone app consisted of. [Tangent: Google must have been perplexed that more than one person was simultaneously searching "throw stuff in her butt" not on the hunt for things of a graphic nature.] After happening upon some seemingly not PG imagery that is hanging out on the web, we found the iPhone game in question. My friend Ryan determined it to be a little game called "Plumber's Crack" which is pretty much exactly as advertised: you throw stuff in a butt. [Tangent: Just so you know that this is not coming from the recesses of my depravity, I screen captured the synopsis below. It's absolutely worth reading.]


I consider myself a seemingly weird person, and even I have never considered tossing peanuts in the butt cracks of my hired help, nor tattooing a unicorn onto their person. Call me crazy. [Tangent: Anyway, was the world ready for another plumber themed video game? Didn't Mario and Luigi kinda already cover that?] Even though the description reaked of some very niche fetish community, I realize I have downloaded weirder free apps, so why not add one more to the mix?

Even on the most remedial level, with the extra large ass target shown above, I was terrible at this game. The ice cubes refused to go in his crack so I gave up rather quickly, but not before I had dug a little deeper into the features of this most random application. Apparently, as stated in the app store description, if you are willing to pay for it,  you can dress your plumber, sexy or...not, in a variety of looks. [Tangent: This really didn't help the case against this thing being very fetish-y.]
I don't know what is more disturbing: Sailor Moon, Leiderhosen or leather daddy. You be the judge.

...gay prostitute, cow or Elvis...whatever you may be into.
Part of me is slapping myself thinking this whole thing is part of an elaborate fever dream, while the other half is not at all surprised. After all, some app makers are making a killing off the concept of flinging birds at forts protected by pigs. This is that same insanity, just ratcheting it up in a pervy way. Play on, players.

Friday, August 10, 2012

breaking up is hard to do.

Sometimes something you have poured all your time and love and excitement into runs its course. The  abrupt ending leaves your nights suddenly open and your heart and head in a tailspin. Although you saw it coming and prepared yourself for the return to an empty life, it still jars you.  You weren't ready to stop making memories, you wished things could just last forever. You try to see the bright side and realize that the emotional roller coaster,  the loss of sleep, the obsessive dependency and teary outbursts are no way to live day to day, so you pick yourself up from the breakup and move on, knowing that there is surely something new on the horizon or maybe something that was there all along that has gone ignored. This is how I feel...because I know this weekend I will be breaking up... with the Olympics. [Tangent: Gotcha! Shamylan twist! I know you thought I was breaking up with my honey and you were mistaken. That's not happening.]

Athleticism and just a general interest in sports is not something you would ever attribute to my name. [Exhibit A.] After you pick your chin up off the floor at this groundbreaking revelation, and remember that I still think Larry Byrd is playing for the Celtics, [Tangent: In my world, I base all my assumptions about sports on NBA Jams or Joe Montana Football for Sega Genesis.] hear me out. The Olympic Games, no matter summer or winter, are one of the times I will become completely enraptured by a televised sporting event.  Doesn't matter what sport. I don't discriminate. In fact, I was really disappointed that I missed all the rhythmic gymnastics or syncronized swimming.

Because in the coming days, I know we will all be inundated with Olympic Moment Montages, I decided to do one preemptively with the things I will miss most, which will likely differ from those of Mr. Costas [Tangent: Who by the way has been sporting some horn rimmed eyewear the last two days and looks very spicy!]

1.  I will miss the athletes with porny names: Destinee Hooker, Diamond Dixon and lest we forget Dong Dong, deemed "Double Dong" by my fella, on trampoline! [Tangent: The final one led to a bevvy or bouncing Dong entenders between me and Jamie. Is that what the intended purpose of the Olympics is?]



2. I will miss finding doppelgangers for different Olympians:

Michael Bolton looks like this older Belgian fella on the rings:
I can never see Michael Phelps without seeing Gheorge Murasan [Tangent: I know I said I knew little of sports earlier, but I know My Giant.]


After hearing McKayla Maroney compared to Posh Spice on twitter, it is all I could see. The scowl is spot on.


3. I will miss the inspirational stories that totally make you fall in love with some athlete that was told they'd never walk again/is from a war torn nation/comes from a broken home/is a victim of sexual abuse/had a death of a close family member/underwent a recent surgery/was shot/missed their senior prom to train etc. All these things are equal in the Olympic arena. They will all make you cry and feel supremely lazy as you watch sprinters and shove reheated Chinese food down your pie hole.

4. I will miss having a random gymnast tumble into your heart. Of course, Gabby Douglass did! But, what about that 37 year old German lady with the bowl cut, competing against girls who haven't even gotten their period yet...or the Chilean with the molester 'stache. Those are the heroes I will remember.



5. I will miss having Olympic nerd textchanges with my friend/brother from another mother, Brandon. He is one of the only people that I can count on watching 24/7 with me and being on the spot for constant commentary.

Thanks 2012 Olympic Games. This tryst has been fun. Maybe we can do it again in a few years. For now I will have a heap of McKayla Maroney memes to keep me company.





Wednesday, August 8, 2012

the day the record scratched

This blog is gonna weird considering some of the subject matter is a bit frivolous. Imagine you are at a Middle School dance and they are playing "The Train" and "The Tootsie Roll" [Tangent: At least, that's what they played at my middle school dances...] and the record skips and the DJ/homeroom teacher starts playing Madonna's "Take a Bow." Things sometimes take a serious turn just when things are upbeat.  I hope you all stayed with me through that vague analogy.

So today is an important date in Kimmie history. Two years ago today, as many of you know, I lost one of my nine lives when I went into pulmonary acidosis [Tangent: Which basically means I no longer was giving off CO2 and my lungs basically ceased to function and one of them collapsed. Funzies!] and had to be rescued by my sister, my best friend and my friend Josh. Three days were spent on Michael Jackson drugs before I woke up to learn what happened and learned I had tubes coming out of every hole. [Tangent: Yes, every hole.] I did end up getting a lot of wicked scars....one where they had to put in the chest tube and one on my neck where they had to insert a trach so I could breathe. The hospital stay was 5 weeks and for the majority of that was spent without the ability to talk...which is quite possibly the worst case scenario as far as I'm concerned, I'm chatty.
me looking excited with my new badass throat scar.
Last year this time, I celebrated with my friends and family my Lungpopaversary/ I'm glad I didn't die dinner. At that time I had just started getting back to normal. My adavan prescription had run out of refills and my panic attacks were ceasing to occur.  Sleeping through the night was a possibility again. [Tangent: Always priding myself on being able to handle things well and not sweat the small stuff, this was the first time that I was really having a hard time moving forward...hence the adavan to help me sleep. I am really shitty at melodrama. ]

Now that I have two years of perspective under my belt, I am increasingly thankful, and to be trite and Bible-ly feel extremely blessed. In the last 2 years, I have watched my best friend and my brother get married, become an aunt to the most beautiful niece in the world and met the love of my life. This whole ordeal also was a definite wake-up call that taught me what and who was important. This came with the price tag of occasionally telling people, "No" and making myself a priority. [Tangent: Probably the hardest lesson to learn.]

I'm not writing this as a means to dwell on things, but who says dwelling and being thankful is a bad thing? Life handed me some really shitty lemons that night in 2010 and it turned into some delightful lemonade. Thanks for all those who added sugar. I love you.

my major malfunction

Today, I was listening to the How Did this Get Made podcast with Paul Scheer, where 4 comedians discuss a terrible movie in detail. Its one of my favorites, mostly because I see a lot of terrible movies and can thus relate. [Tangent: I hate to admit this but sometimes it actually makes me want to see a movie, like All About Steve or Judge Dredd,  just so I can witness the train wreck and comisserate with the pod casters.] Today whilst listening to Paul F. Tompkins discuss the 2011 NPH reboot of The Smurfs, he made the comment that having the protagonist have a career in advertising is the most hackneyed go-to career choice, its glamorous and interesting and seems like a lot of work...but a lot of fun. This reminded me that pop culture, is exactly why I chose my major in college. It wasn't an inspirational teacher or a traumatic life event, it was a mixture of Angela Bauer, Amanda Woodard and Mel Gibson's character in What Women Want



No young girl when they when asked what they want to be what they grow up answer insurance processor, so how did I get here? When I was wee, I vacillated between wanting to be a hostess on QVC, specializing in porcelain dolls and makeup of course, and/or a  pediatric orthopedic surgeon. [Tangent: Subconsciously I hoped I could somehow incorporate both these interests into one occupation, but I have never quite figure out how...unless there is a informercial about how performing surgery on yourself....in which case sign me up.] I was a weird kid, I used to make do shampoo commercials in the bathtub [Tangent: You know where you toss the shampoo bottle in the sudsy water and it makes a splash while you deliver the tagline...] and host radio shows with my sister using our cassette recorder.

Then, in high school, which is a golden moment where you are forced to make a decision on what you want to devote your life to, I went to the movies and saw What Women Want with my best friend, Kristen. I remember looking over at her during the scene where they are given a box of products to inspire them and telling her, "I would be good at that." [Tangent: Not to mention...how amazing are those offices?!?!?]



With every movie that features an advertising protagonist that I see, whether it be Picture Perfect or  How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days, I grow more and more sure that I was not the only one lured into the empty embrace of a Mass Communications degree by the magic of the silver screen. Don't even get me started on how I can't bring myself to watch Mad Men because I think it will depress me. Apparently there are not enough jobs to meet the demands.

Part of me thinks I still would dominate at advertising. Even though I have grown up to understand the key to being an  important advertising executive isn't just wearing a business suit and constantly referring to important documents in your important briefcase, I still think I would kick ass at this profession. I'll ask Amanda Woodward if D&D is hiring...
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