For Sarah Hardesty

I've been sorely neglecting my baby . . . this blog. I know, I know. It's inexcusable, and you should report me to Blogger Protective Services. But there's been so much going on in my life! I know, I know, that's a lie. At least it was a lie until about the past week.

I picked up a weekend job, which I will probably have to quit. Why, you ask? Because I'm a big girl now. A real life, grown-up big girl.

Well, let's be honest. I will never be "grown-up." However, I DO have a big girl job now, that I will be starting on Monday. A job where I will be blogging. SWEAR TO DUMBLEDORE. Some people actually think I have worthwhile things to say, which is reassuring and little frightening. I was trolling my past updates, and I talk about how one of my favorite pasttimes is jumping into a pile of dirty clothes and how I feel bad for making fun of girls who wear jeggings.

And now here, is my pledge to all of my loyal followers, all 3 of them. 3 of them have the last name Hardesty.

[this is slightly amended from the Girl Scout pledge. Credit where credit is due.]

"On my honor, I will try, to serve the Hardestys, and Harry Potter, and to live by Blogger law."

I will TRY to update this more, since I feel like it's the bastard first-born child of my burgeoning Internet empire.

Janelle and Rachel vs. Icepocalypse

Once upon a time, two girls decided to road trip to visit their dear, dear friends from study abroad in England. They embarked on an 8 hour drive to Evansville, IN.

Good times were had by all. This is not the point of this blog post. The point is to recount the epic struggle on the way home.

Both girls imbibed a little too much the night before their departure and were in considerably low spirits. Rachel snuggled up for a catnap in the back seat while Janelle bravely agreed to navigate Agent Michael Scarn: Threat Level Midnight (a 2004 Saturn Vue, NOT 4wheel drive) for the first leg of the drive.

A semi jack-knifed on I-71 on the way to Cincinnati. The girls were stuck in an hour-long traffic jam. Not a good omen. But the roads were good, it was a balmy 54 degrees, and the sun was shining, so they were in good spirits.

Meanwhile, ominous texts/calls/Facebook posts were coming in. "Be careful, huge snowstorm in MI." "Don't die, please." "Get a hotel if it's too bad." So Janelle and Rachel were very nervous driving through Ohio, even though the roads were nothing short of glorious.

"I felt like I was going to throw up the entire time, even though nothing was happening." -Janelle

Then came Toledo.

Rachel was at the helm of Agent Michael Scarn when the Icepocalypse hit. Sheets and sheets of death water were pouring down and instantly freezing on the windshield. Scarn's shitty wipers were no match for the wrath of Mother BITCH-ure. The girls contemplated getting off of I-75 and getting a hotel room, but were too scared to try the exit ramps, which were paved with inches-thick sheets of ice that Scarn's tires and 4-cylinder engine were no match for. Additionally, the semi-trucks thought that they could do whatever they wanted and hovered so close to Scarn that there were several times in which all three entities thought they were doomed.

So the ice kept on pelting down, until it was time to navigate the hell hole that is known to the general public as I-275. Once Scarn and Rachel hit the treacherous freeway, there was no way forward. Literally. This wasn't ice anymore, it was 7 inches of uncharted snow.

"I was terrified the entire time." - Rachel

Janelle advised Rachel to exit at Telegraph so they could find a hotel room. However, the only available hotels were janky motels that had "YOU WILL BE MURDERED HERE" written all over the signs. [actually, the signs said "Air Conditioning/VCRs", so, same thing.] After stopping at one of said motels and immediately deciding that they would rather die in an icy car wreck than chopped to pieces by a mentally unstable motel owner, Janelle took the wheel of Scarn and set off north on Telegraph through Flat Rock. Using the handy GPS, she navigated very nice, very empty plowed farm roads until she made it back to I-275.

Knowing that Scarn needed velocity more than anything to make it through the now-10-inches-deep layer of snow, she gunned it through the lanes to make it to the left lane, which had been plowed. The girls and Scarn drove verrrrrrrry slowly for about 20 miles north, until the treacherous exit at 8 Mile. Once again, Scarn triumphed, making it up the exit ramp and through Rachel's un-plowed subdivision, safely delivering Janelle's comrade to her humble abode.

But Janelle's journey had just begun. [WHAT?! Yes.]

Once again bravely assuming command of Scarn, the two of them tackled the ominous route of I-275 north to I-696, which was comparatively easy. And then, I-696 decided it was going to be a little bitch.

No lanes. Just dozens of random snow tracks. Minivans thought they were off-roading vehicles and sped past Scarn and Janelle, fish-tailing and spewing snow into the windshields of other vehicles. Scarn's poor windshield wipers were stretched to their breaking point and began to unravel. Up the looming mountain of the I-75 bridge and down to the Van Dyke exit, Janelle screamed all the Glee songs she could to keep her focus while Scarn's tires spun and spat. Finally, Scarn and Janelle emerged onto the service drive, where, thankfully, there were minimal cars and very minimal snow-plowing.

Janelle called her mom from the service drive and asked for some beer.

Thankfully, Janelle and Scarn emerged onto Janelle's street. Only one set of tracks navigated the icy tundra, and stopped at the corner. Scarn and Janelle were pioneers down the dead end, going 40 miles an hour in an attempt to avoid stuckage, but probably only moving about 15 miles per hour. In a last-ditch, valiant attempt, Janelle spun Scarn into the driveway of her house . . .

. . . only to get stuck. In the driveway. Of her own house.

Why Being Single Doesn't Have to Suck

**disclaimer: I am not single, and I am happy about this. However, there are a select few things that I do miss about my swinging single life (when I was 15).

**also this is not gender-specific. more mass appeal.

Top 5 Reasons Why the Single Life is Awesome

by Janelle

5) You don't have to shave your legs

- This is, hopefully, for women only. Honestly, I don't shave my legs every day. Not even every week, sometimes. I get made fun of a lot, but I don't care. Luckily, my boyfriend isn't a dick, so it's usually more him making a joke like "Aww when are you going to braid your leg hair?" rather than "you are f*cking disgusting," but I know some guys that think leg hair is a deal breaker. So, single ladies, be thankful that you don't have someone constantly judging the natural blanket of body-heat-trapping hair that God intended you to have.

4) You have more money

- Even if you are poor as hell, it's a proven scientific fact* that you have more money when you're single than if you're in a relationship. Guys, you want to go to Taco Bell? You don't have to call your girlfriend and ask her what she wants, only to have her "Uuuummmmm . . . " on the phone for 20 minutes before finally deciding on 1 soft taco. Nope, you can pocket that $0.89 or get yourself a soft taco. Do you want to go to the Red Wings game? "One ticket, please." "One beer, please." "Another one single beer please." "One singular hot dog, please." Doesn't that sound delightful? So, live up the single life while you can.

3) You don't have to "coordinate" . . . anything.

- If someone invites you out, do you have to call your significant other to see what he/she is doing before you commit? If you're going to a party, do you have to arrange a time to go so you can pick he/she up on the way? Do you have to wait until your significant other gets off of work before you can go hours late to your brother's birthday party?

NOT IF YOU'RE SINGLE.

You can go whenever the hell you are ready to go.

Awesome.

2) Holidays

- While, admittedly, it is nice to have someone to spend any holiday with, think about all the stress being single alleviates. No financial burden from trying to "match" whatever he/she bought for you. No pressure for those of us who are DIY-challenged to make something cutesy and full of love. You can feel free to sit on your couch in sweats with your dad watching "1000 Ways to Die" eating tator tots on Christmas Day instead of going to numerous family engagements (that's a true story . . . MY true story. And I'm not single, I just have an awesome boyfriend.)

1) FREEEEEEDOM

- I am opposite of "in a controlling/manipulative relationship", but I realize that I am the exception. Most people have to let their significant other know what they are doing at all times, where they are, who they are with, etc. Doesn't that get exhausting? and annoying? Do you really need to know if I'm sitting at home eating Doritos and playing the Sims? I'm not out grinding on male models at a dance club. Are you at a bar with your buddies? Did you have to clear that first with your obnoxious controlling significant other? Or did you text him/her and say, "hey, I'm going up to [insert bar/restaurant here] with [insert friends' names here], wanna meet us up here later?" Or, if you're single, did you just say to yourself, "I'M GOING OUT!"?

This is not a rant about how being in a relationship sucks. It doesn't. It's just some reasons why being single doesn't HAVE to suck.

**no actual science was conducted in the writing of this blog post.

Why I Love My Family (and Antarctica)

I make my parents watch Jeopardy with me whenever I'm home. Tonight, there was the category

"Way Down South in South Georgia". It was a video category showcasing penguins, reindeer, elephant seals, etc. that live on the Antarctic island of South Georgia. We watch video of a naturalist in cold weather clothing explaining all these things about Antarctica.

The last question was a question about my man crush Ernest Shackleton. It is at this point that my father, who is deathly ill with the flu, says, "Where the hell is South Georgia?"

I said, "Antarctica."

He said, "Oh, damn, I thought they were talking about the United States."

He just sat there in a fevered stupor thinking that the people on Jeopardy were telling him that penguins, seals, reindeer, and Ernest Shackleton lived in south Georgia, USA.

Just Livin' Life

Wow.

I am not exaggerating when I say I am lethally, fatally, unbearably bored.

Okay, I'm exaggerating. I'm not dying. Physically. The recent "Blizzard of 2011", as WXYZ dubbed it, robbed me of a whole two days at my place of employment. I was going crazy. My mother remarked that she was glad I didn't have an axe, so I couldn't go Jack Nicholson on everyone and hack them all up.

I played in the snow for about a half hour all by myself. Sad little girl. I think my dad considered snow-suiting up and coming out to build a snowman, but decided against it since he had just snowblowed the 7+ inches of fluffy white substance from our driveway. I pretended to help by shoveling the street plow residue from the end of the driveway, but then my neighbor came out with her snowblower and offered to do it.

For the first time ever, I was sad to refrain from physical labor.

Yes, I'm that bored.

I've read 4 books in the past week. I have played an ungodly amount of Sims 3. I watch HGTV all the time (+1 Internetz for me getting my mom hooked so I don't have to fight for the good TV). I have yet to watch the Netflix movie that I've had for about 5 months, but that's in my future plans.

Just livin' life, my friends.

Janelle's Life Boot Camp: 5 Steps to Making It In the World

(cross posted. Deal with it.)

At my office, we tend to bitch about things. A lot. Most of the time, it's about technology (software, hardware, 3DHD Audio Force Fields, ball in cups, etc).

However, another theme is people. Or, more specifically (and less mean, I guess), characteristics exhibited in many people that make them really annoying. These people need Life Boot Camp. And I'm here to help, for the low low price of four payments of $29.95. (blog hits are also accepted)


Janelle's Life Boot Camp: 5 Steps to Making It In the World ***
by Janelle


1) Learn to Evaluate Social Cues

A baby must be raised by a human, unless you are Mowgli and are lucky enough to find some nice anthropomorphic wolves. So, all things considered, a human should be able to interpret basic human social cues, such as eye-rolling, an avoidance of eye contact, body language, verbal assaults, etc. that one normally encounters from infancy up through death.

Example: If you're talking to me, and I have headphones on, am surrounded by open books, am chewing on a pen lost in thoughtfulness, and am barely acknowledging your presence, odds are I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU. You lose points if I have my arms crossed in a defensive manner, sigh impatiently, and give one-word answers to your queries.

The example is an extreme one, sure. But take it from me: learning to recognize these painfully obvious cues will lessen your douchebaggery.


2) Know Enough About Human Sexuality to Appreciate a "That's What She Said" Joke

I really hope, if you're reading this, and you have read our "Overheard" posts, that you do not fall into this category. You don't need to be a 7 & Van Dyke hooker to giggle when someone says something like, "I can't get it in." Immature? Yes. Hilarious? Absofrickinlutely.

Granted, there are various levels of dirty minds that can be tolerated. I don't expect a 7 year old to laugh when, as their father is fixing the sink, he says, "Damn, that's really tight." However, anyone 14 years and older, barring a physiological/psychological disorder, should be wise enough in the ways of the world to not only laugh at that -- but make it better.

Example:

Sean Connery: Craven Morehead.
Alex Trebek: WHO IS Craven Morehead?
Sean Connery: The guy who slept with your mother last night.


3) Watch Good Movies

I realize that this category is subjective. Except, it's not. I'm the judge of it. I'll evaluate your life skills when I know what kind of movies you like, and more than likely, you will fail. Also, you must like musicals.

Examples: The Blue Lagoon, Heavyweights, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1990), The Sound of Music, The Joan and Melissa Rivers Story, Grey Gardens, Beauty and the Beast, Labyrinth, Funny Girl (etc etc etc etc X infinity)


4) Know When a Joke Has Gone Too Far

Unfortunately, there are several people in my life who have yet to learn this skill. My basic rule of thumb: you can beat your wife with a stick no wider than your thumb. My basic rule of jokes: if it's gone on for longer than a minute, and no one is laughing anymore, and someone says "you've taken this way too far", the joke is dead. So bury it, mourn it, and move on.

Example:

Person 1: "And then he was like OH MY GOD MY FOOT FELL OFF!"
(Person 2 and Person 3 laugh)
. . . seconds later . . .
Person 1: "OH MY GOD MY FOOT FELL OFF!"
(Person 2 and Person 3 chuckle, then return to what they were talking about)
. . . milliseconds later . . .
Person 1: "Hey Person 2, did your foot fall off?"
(crickets)
. . . 15 seconds later . . .
Person 1: "I bet YOUR foot fell off!"
Person 2: "Not funny anymore."
Person 1: "HAHAHAHHA"
(Person 1 then goes on to post Facebook statuses about various people's feet falling off for 4 days.)

(see also: "Learn to Evaluate Social Cues")


5) Don't Be Dumb

If you're going to do something, do it right.

If you're going to say something, be right.

If you say something wrong, don't.

If you think you're right and I say you're wrong, I'm right, because I'll look it up and prove it.

Don't be wrong, and don't be dumb.

LIFE SKILLS, beeyotches.

Example:

Someone: "Jodie Benson did the voice of Belle in Beauty and the Beast."

Me: "No she didn't."

Someone: "Yes, she did."

Me: "Nope, it was Paige O'Hara, and the Beast was Robby Benson, and Lumiere was Jerry Orbach, Cogsworth was David Ogden Stiers, Mrs. Potts was Angela Lansbury, Chip was Bradley Pierce, it was directed by Kirk Wise and Gary Trousdale, released in 1991 and nominated for a Best Picture Oscar."

Someone: "No, I know it was Jodie Benson."

Me: "She was considered, since she was the voice of Ariel in The Little Mermaid, but was deemed too 'all-American', and they wanted someone more European sounding."

Someone: "I don't think you're right."

(I pull out my "The Making of Beauty and the Beast" special edition book, as well as my "Behind the Scenes" VHS tape and my 3 copies of the movie.)

JUST DON'T DO IT.






*** Disclaimer: I have not yet made it anywhere, so I'll let you know if this works. No refunds. Sorry Roger, you tiger now.

Don't Watch The Dark Knight and Play The Sims Before You Go To Bed

I had the absolute weirdest dream I've ever had last night.

Have you ever seen Inception? Well, I swear I had a dream-within-a-dream. It started with me and a bunch of people at "school" -- it seemed like a school for the arts, and there were random people from my past and current life in it. These people changed a lot -- at one point I was walking around with my former best friend Nadia, another time I was with Alex Waner from Harlaxton, and another time I was with Scott and Tommy from work. There was a big renovation project going on at the school, so we were having a class in a big empty room with hardwood floors, and the walls were in the process of being painted gray.

Someone starts talking about how the Joker was on the loose again. Apparently we were living in Gotham City, and this wasn't completely shocking to us. It was nighttime, and our class was letting out for the day. Suddenly, someone notices that the ceiling was covered with drawings of little stick figures, each with a name written under it. Everyone in the class had their name under a stick figure. Waner gets up on the desk and pushes in the ceiling tile where his name was, and pulls down a beaker of blue liquid. Everyone does the same, except me. I'm really nervous about this, but all of the other people pull down their blue beaker of liquid and drink it. Immediately, it's evident that they've all been drugged. They start going crazy, like they're on LSD. I start yelling at everyone, saying that the Joker probably put them there, but they're all drugged. Suddenly, I'm all alone, and I'm faced with the possibility of walking home alone in Gotham City with the Joker on the loose. I know that he'll be back at some point, so I'm very creeped out, thinking that he could still be in the building. The whole building, which is being renovated, is dark, and I grab my backpack and manage to make it out unscathed, although I was certain that he was in the building following me (the building looked a lot like Harlaxton at night when you're not supposed to be in the state rooms but you are anyway because of the fire escape that's open in the basement . . . whoops.) And it was terrifying.

As soon as I make it to my apartment building, guilt sets in. All those drugged people are in that building, probably ready to be employed as the Joker's minions against their will. Also, I had forgotten my purse, with all of my ID's -- so the Joker, who would know that I hadn't taken the drugs and therefore knew that I knew what he'd done, could come to my apartment and kill me at any time. I decide I have to go back.

When I get back to the classroom, my beaker of blue liquid had been taken down from the ceiling and placed on a table in the middle of the room with a card with my name written on it. I am immensely creeped out, and then I see that he had laid out all of my cards on the table next to it, so he knew where I lived. Grabbing all of my stuff and turning around, I see him standing there.

He says, "Why did they all leave you alone?"
I say, "I don't know."
He says, "Well, go home, I'm not ready to play with you yet."

Then I wake up.

But I'm still dreaming. I'm in a luxury high-rise flat, which is apparently my house. I walk out into the amazingly bright, modern kitchen, and Scott and Tommy are eating cereal and each reading the paper at the island. I tell them my dream (I literally retold the entire thing in my dream.) (Also, we built a house on the Sims for me, Scott, and Tommy, and I played it before I went to bed.)

Scott says, "Stop doing drugs."
Tommy says, "I think the whole point of the dream was that she doesn't do drugs."
Scott says, "But dreams are just subconscious, so she probably really wants to do drugs, but doesn't want to be out of control."
Tommy says, "This isn't Inception."
Scott says, "How do you know?"


Then I woke up.

I THINK I REALLY AM ON DRUGS.