28.11.11

Cyber Monday

What's the opposite of a shopaholic?

It took me five hours to decide to buy a pair of glittery heels and a grey peacoat tonight.  Wild times at the drudgery bin.



Image via Gatewood Hall.

26.11.11

7 Foxy Dudes Whose Names are Not Ryan.


Dear Ryan Gosling, 

Alright, we all get it.  You're handsome.  But you've had your day.  To save your ego from inflating out of control, I think it's time to objectify some other sweet man flesh.

Like Bret McKenzie.

Or Donald Glover.

Jorma Taccone and Andy Samberg 2GETHA 4 EVA.

And then there's John Krasinski.  Hiding hickeys, no doubt.

Even Dick Van Dyke got some moves.

And, of course, Redfoo, who knows how sexy he is.

I'm sure you're beginning to see a pattern about the type of guy I like, Ryan.  And you...well, you're good-looking and all, but I guess you just don't have enough verve and pizzazz to keep my attention for long.  To be honest, you're kind of one-dimensional, hiding your flat persona behind that charming smile and those intense eyes.

....

Okay, fine.  One picture.  But that's it.  And no pictures of you with a dog--that's cheating.

Also: beards make you look a little chubby.  No offense meant.

Now.  Go get on that multi-talented, funny-guy train.  Some people work for their adoration, slacker.

Fond regards,
Tracy Thunderbolt.




Images via Amoeba, Paper Blog, Homorazzi, Screencave, Grigware, Vegas, and Perez Hilton.

25.11.11

Gray Friday

The manager slowly realized that opening the doors
at 3 pm Thanksgiving day had been a terrible mistake.

I've never gone shopping on Black Friday--and I don't think I ever will--but not because I'm afraid of the crowds or because I don't like shopping (although both of those are true, in general).  I like to think that people are really just perpetuating a grand myth about the day, and that in reality there are just a few people milling around the stores, chatting and lazily running their fingers over cashmere scarves and diamond necklaces on their velvet display cases.  I don't know where everyone else is, but I assume they are at the beach or something, sneakily updating their Facebook statuses so that everyone else who is secretly not shopping either will think that they are out snagging awesome deals amid the kerfuffle of crazed consumers.  I'd like to be on the beach at midnight tonight, all bundled up and huddled in a tent until morning arrives and the fun begins.







Image via calisphere.

24.11.11

22.11.11

Turkey Time

Today we're making hand turkeys in class.




I have high hopes for hilarity.




Image via here.

19.11.11

Rainy Days

I love the rain.

...

Wait.  Ahem.

I FUCKING LOVE THE RAIN, YOU GUYS.

There, that's right.

Maybe it's because I've spent my entire life in Southern California, where rain steals into town in the night like an outlaw or a luxury dog spa; but instead of creating a cozy, romantic, book-cocoa-fireplace atmosphere, the sky wrings itself out while everyone is asleep.  We wake up to splotchy sidewalks and soggy newspapers.  Not a cloud in sight.

Sometimes I turn on rainy sounds to fool myself into thinking that maybe, just once, I will have an entire day of sweet, puddle-stomping, cuddle-inspiring, Gene-Kelly-impersonating rainstorms.  But that never happens.*  It has been one of the great sorrows of my life.

This will never be me.

However, I've learned that the weather, like everything else in this jaded world, has a price.  One night I left my phone charging on the window sill, then put on my headphones and read for a little while in bed.  Half an hour later, my mom came into the room with the house phone and asked why I was calling.

"I'm not..." I replied, but when I looked over to where my phone was sitting, I found that rain was streaming in through the open window and pooling on the window sill so that my phone was drowning.  I can only assume that after I coldly ignored its plight, the phone took matters into its own hands by calling the house for help.

The internal speaker never worked after that, but I think that was less because of mechanical problems and more out of resentment on the part of my phone.

Last weekend, I tested my theory.  Rain that was predicted for the morning still hadn't made an appearance by 2 in the afternoon.  So, I gathered up my coffee, a bag of trail mix, and my laptop and went out on the porch to enjoy a lovely afternoon snack under a close, gray sky.  Just as I took a sip of coffee, the first, small raindrops began dotting my keyboard.  Right on time.

The weather forecast claims it's going to rain tomorrow.  One hundred percent chance as of 11:10 tonight, and it's scheduled to start at 0900 hours.  But I know how these things go.  I've been hurt before by false promises - mistakes, they say.  Nobody's perfect, they tell us.  We're only weathermen; we can't be right all the time.  And besides, this is California...if you don't like the sunshine, move to Seattle.

Well, I'm not taking any chances this time.  My heart can't handle being hurt again.  If the rain wants a sacrifice, then a sacrifice it will get.  Tonight I'm going to leave my external hard drive outside on the porch ledge, taunting the clouds to let forth a torrential downpour and destroy the tasty morsel of digital memory.  This hard drive contains all of my pictures, music, and documents - including my senior thesis - and I haven't had a chance to transfer everything back onto my computer after I upgraded to Windows 7.  The rain wouldn't be able to resist such a sleek, valuable bit of technology.  No doubt such a gift would afford us a whole day of rain, plus scattered showers continuing into Monday morning.

I just really hope that the rain doesn't actually start until 9, because I'll be awake and able to rescue the hard drive by the time more than a few drops land on it.  I like rain, but downloading 12,000 songs again would really blow.



*One time I even saw a lightning storm with no rain.  True story.


Image via Tumblr.

18.11.11

Staph Meeting

That's the way I always spell it in my head whenever I say the phrase out loud.  But as much as I want to make snarky comments about the staff meeting I went to tonight, the truth is that the school's meetings will probably be the nicest ones I will ever be forced to attend.  So to celebrate that, I am going to make a list of reasons why tonight's staff meeting was great and definitely better than yours.

REASONS WHY TONIGHT'S STAFF MEETING WAS GREAT AND DEFINITELY BETTER THAN YOURS:

- The meeting started at 6:30, so we were all given free Chipotle and gourmet cupcakes for dinner.
- One of the teachers decorated the table as if we were going to a fancy dinner party: silver doily place mats, a shiny snowflake linen tablecloth, silver centerpieces, and blue starry decorative wire stuff wound through the middle of everything.  We also had color-coordinated water bottles and iced tea.  So posh.
- It had a theme.  WINTER MAGIC.  Because we teachers are the magic, and every child has magic in them (I suggested harvesting the children for their magic and selling it for a huge profit on the black market, but my idea was shot down).
- We spent a good half-hour just sitting and gossiping about the kids.  Who's on medication, who needs medication, and all the times we wish we could just smack 'em.
- Other topics discussed included lingerie and fuzzy handcuffs, my boyfriend, breasts, and drugs.  Not all in the same conversation.  Perks of working with all women.
- We were given goody bags.  GOODY BAGS FOR GOING TO A MANDATORY STAFF MEETING.  Despite what I usually say, teaching rocks.  I get fees waived and free checks at the bank because I teach.  Of course, it helped that the man who opened my account is married to a kindergarten teacher, too.
- Did I mention we had free Chipotle?  Looking forward to that carried me through the entire week.

The only thing missing was booze.

Get ready for the Christmas party.



Image via Employment Edification.

17.11.11

War on Whimsy: The Case for Drudgery

Some of you may be asking yourselves, Just why does Tracy hate whimsy so much?  Can't she just let everyone else be while she sits marinating in a putrid puddle of drudgery?  Well, I would like to answer those questions with a question of my own.  

Should I buy these winter boots, or would my feet look too much like a late-70s basketball player's head?


Only Crocs.


As this atrocity of modern footwear suggests, drudgery is the real essence of life.  Whereas whimsy demands a great deal of faith, imagination, and effort just to craft the fragile illusion that life is wonderful and dreamy, sitting back and recognizing the true ugly, tedious nature of the world allows us to transcend the dull work of daily living and laugh at the absurdity and seriousness of everything around us.  Or, we could just stare in barely concealed disbelief at things like bookstore clerk want ads in which "a strong familiarity with the alphabet is essential."

Seriously?


I was going to include more pictures and examples, but...I really do need some winter boots (like theeese, perhaps?), and I think I've made a pretty good case for drudgery.  War over.



Welp...see ya tomorrow.




Images via Rakuten, Tumblr.