Day 5 of 5:

Hooray! I missed a day and nobody noticed! That's fine with me, because I'm so exhausted there's absolutely no way I was going to go and find out where the post office is around here, especially not in this rainstorm.  I'll post something real tomorrow. Right now I'm just trying to stay awake long enough to go to the event with the free food, but I don't think I'm gonna make it. No drawings for you!

4 of 4: Inadvertent Social Experiment Time!

I *am* posting today because I am a champ.  But something I was not a champ at today was looking like a normal, presentable human being. 

My day started at 5:15 after about three hours of sleep because whenever I know that I need to be up early the next day, my brain is all, OHMAHGODWEGETTODOSOMETHINGDIFFERENTTOMORROWWEWEWESOEXCITED
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYSTAYUPFOREVAHHHHH!!!!!!

Which is just great.

So I got up at 5 AM and got ready. 

Let me state, for the record, that I was not proud of my appearance today.  I didn't have the foresight to leave any decent clothes unpacked so I had to clothe myself from the dregs of my closet.  However, by 5 AM standards, I was ready to walk the freakin' red carpet. You know, maybe the red carpet of an animated prequel that was released only in Argentina before being destroyed in shame by all involved.

Unfortunately, the rest of the world does not judge people by 5 AM standards.

Generously, my look could be described as 90's hobo + soldier from Mulan chic.  I figure that a hobo could get a hold of my nice, acid-washed jeans, popular in the 80's, by the 90's.  Coupled with my excessively over-large t-shirt, I had the 90's look down. Then, not wanting to deal with my hair during the 12 hours of driving we did today, I pulled all my hair up in a tight little bun on the tippity top of my head.  Add to that 3 hours of sleep and no makeup (so maybe I should throw 'crazy vampire eyes' in my list too) and I was a sight.

After 12 hours of being in a car, I looked and felt something like this:

So, after our time in the car we go to Ruby Tuesdays to get dinner.  When I go in to get a table the hostess greets me mindlessly. Then she looks me up.  She looks me down.  And then starts looking at where to put me, so as to minimize the infliction of this upon humanity.  She calls over another hostess.  Finally, somebody tells me to follow them and I am led to a table waaaaaay in the back, next to all the children.

Then the waiter brought over a priest and a crucifix and tried to save me from the demon inside me. Just kidding. But only barely.  And by that I mean he rushed me and didn't refill my water even once.

I don't generally look like this, so I was in a fun social experiment today, as promised in previous posts. See, I'm reliable!

Anyways, I don't know if I'll be posting tomorrow or Sunday still, so don't get your hopes up just because I was a was an overachiever today.

Stay cool!

Three of Third: Trop50

It occurred to me that maybe I should explain about why I'm packing this time, since I've complained about it in all my previous posts.

I graduated in May from a gigundinormous university in the western region of the country.  Now I'm going to intern at a gigundinormous amusement park in the eastern region of the country. I leave tomorrow morning.

That explanation didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would.

Have you seen any of these commercials?

They're for Tropicana Trop50 juice and they're all along the same lines as this one.  And they're all so terrible that I can't decide what effect they have on my brain yet, but it's one of the following. They're so stupid they either:

1. Make my brain hurt so intensely that the pain seeps through my brain and into my hair,

2. Numb my brain so intensely that my body cools down so much that it turns into an ice sculpture,

3. Make my brain explode, or

4. Make my brain hurt so much that it numbs itself to protect me from the pain, then explodes, shattering the ice my body has become encased in, sending ice shards everywhere and killing anything around me.

I kind of like #4. At least I take anyone else who's been exposed to this commercial down with me.

Now, is this commercial actually a brilliant and subtle statement on the shallowness and vanity of modern society?  Does this commercial look down upon Jane Krakowski for allowing the word "gooder" only when it flatters her vanity?  Is the Trop50 campaign actually saying that a woman has intelligent worth and should not just be a sex symbol?  No.

From the first, we have to ask why orange juice is now being marketed as a product for women.  It's not because it's tasty, it's because it's sexy.  The message being sent, starting with the hour-glass shape of the ideal woman bottle, is that the woman must have a perfect body, and that drinking Trop50 will help the woman get there.

The juice's main selling point is that it has "50% less calories and sugar." Ok. Ok. Pause. We'll get back to that.

After an obligatory juice tasting and "Mmmm," the commercial rounds out with an attempt at humor by using the made up word "gooder" multiple times.

Now, remember the "50% less calories" line? Good. You don't suffer from short-term memory loss. Hooray!  Now, Trop50 people, don't try to make a grammar joke and pretend there's any way it could be intelligent when, 5 seconds before, you made one of grossest grammar errors ever. It should be "50% fewer calories," and nothing else.

Now, the whole "gooder" fiasco is not funny.  It's just not.  I don't think I have to explain this too much, but I will make a few brief points about it.  The commercial is not trying to show that the juice is so delicious that the women lost all ability to think of any way to describe it other than adding "er" to "good."  If the juice had overpowered all their senses, this may not have been so awful.  But no, coming up with "gooder" was reasoned out by these women.  If the juice tastes good, then logically the fact that it'll also not fatten them up is "gooder."  The whole "gooder" thing does not come across as intelligent women being playful.  They look like idiots with a limited vocabulary.  But it's OK, because with "50% less calories," at least they'll look good. Maybe even gooder.

What these commercials fail to understand is that there is a line between charming silliness and raging stupidity. Also, the line is not that fine.  So to shoot for one and land in the other must have taken a concerted effort by everybody involved, because my brain is no longer intact inside my skull. Which probably means that I'm now qualified to write for Trop50.

Now, am I being too sensitive? Is anybody else out there tired of women being marketed to like idiots?

Anyways, this post didn't have as much fun as I like to have, so here! Have this cute picture! I may not be able to post tomorrow through Sunday since I'll be driving for far more hours than I'd like, so this should tide you over til I can post again.

You don't like giraffes? Then what are you doing here???


Just kidding. Please don't go away forever.

Post 2 of 2: The Rules

So! Let's lay some ground rules, yes? Here's what I'll be doing with this piece of internet.

1. I will post every day! This I solemnly swear to do, unless I state, no later than the post before, that I won't be posting for a legitimate reason, like vacation or internet-less travel.

2. If I miss a post without prior notice, I will mail the first commenter to point it out a crayon drawing of an animal of their choice. Ooooh yeah. (Since I don't expect to get a comment ever, this shouldn't  be a problem.  See, by adding this rule I'm showing that I'm willing to be held accountable but sneakily still being lazy.)

3. Every once and a while I'll be doing fun social-ish experiments. What will these be like? I guess you'll just have to read and see! 

4. I will keep this blog open to anyone on the internet, not because I'm a fame-monger or an exhibitionist, but because I like creeping on random blogs and feel like I should re-pay the favor to my fellow creepers. That said, I am aware that anybody, let me reiterate, ANYBODY, could be reading this, so I won't be sharing specific personal details. I also will try to keep this blog, oh, PG. Although I guess I already mentioned drugs and alcohol in my very first post, so maybe PG-13.

5.  That sounds good for now. I reserve the right to add any rules as I see fit. But the above rules will stay.

Now I have to go fit this:

Mountain of clothes

Into this:

Baby for scale purposes only.

So, we'll have more fun tomorrow.

The first of one!

I'm supposed to be packing.

I pack quite a bit, because I travel more than an acid user on acid. That's how acid works, right? Anyways, I'm an excellent packer when I feel like being one, but my last four trips or so I've been like, screw this! until the last possible minute, thrown everything helter-skelter into whatever bag I grabbed from the basement first, and then gone on my trip toothpaste-less. Which is a surprise, because I love brushing my teeth. You'd think I would throw the toothpaste in there first.

Anyways, I have no idea how this blogging business works. I just got about 3 hours of sleep last night after having a few glasses of sangria with friends and now think this is an excellent idea.  But I also thought that putting on this giant Korean sombrero that my mom bought for my little sister's father-daughter Mexico-themed square dance was a great idea and, though I look fabulous, it's not actually that comfortable.  So to summarize, both the hat-wearing and the blog-making were impulse decisions. We'll see which one was worse over time.  I suspect the blog, though hopefully it won't make my neck as sore as this Korean sombrero does.

This is gonna be fun, right?