An Open Letter to Dodge and FloTV

Dear Dodge and FloTV:

Thanks so much for the flattering portrayal during your Super Bowl ad spots. Of course all women are such controlling shrews that we force our boyfriends to go underwear shopping while football is on, or make them watch our "vampire TV shows" until they become hollow shells of men with no will to live. You really hit the nail on the head regarding our soul-sucking nature. And on behalf of single women everywhere, I'd just like to say how much I appreciate your continuing to give legitimacy to the "fear of commitment" BS excuse we all so love to hear when we're being dumped.

Sincerely,
A Perfectly Sane and Accommodating Potential Girlfriend

Open Wide

I have a dentist appointment this afternoon, which always makes me nostalgic for my childhood dentist, who fashioned a balloon animal for me at the end of every visit as a reward for, you know, not screaming the entire time or trying to bite off his hand or anything. Looking back on it, this seems somewhat counterintuitive; everyone knows that the ability to make balloon animals automatically makes you a clown. Why try to alleviate children's fears by combining two of the scariest creatures imaginable: a dentist AND a clown?

No thanks.

The Boys and Girls Who Cried "High Importance" on Their Emails: A Cautionary Tale for the Modern Era

Once upon a time, I received too many emails from a select few offenders who always choose the "Importance Level: High" sending option! The bright red exclamation point prompts me to drop what I'm doing and read your emails immediately because they must be URGENT!! But then I get irritated when, alas, they are of only normal importance! I don't like to be lied to!! Someday, you will send me an URGENT email that really does require immediate action on my behalf!!!! Tragically, I will see the red exclamation point next to your name, but instead of obeying the exclamation point, I will roll my eyes and open the email whenever I damn well feel like it!!

Because, boys and girls, the exclamation point is meant to be used sparingly. It loses its effectiveness unless it is only used in cases of absolute necessity. And you abused it.

Another reason why majoring in English was probably a bad idea

In college, my fellow English majors and I used to joke about how we were paying thousands of tuition dollars on an education that was just going to land us a home in a cardboard box. (Odd that our collective creativity couldn't come up with a better joke than the cardboard box cliche, but I digress.)

After graduation, I eventually managed to find a job that allows me to live in a normal-sized apartment with actual sturdy walls and a roof. But I can't thank my diploma, as I very rarely invoke my English major skeeeelz in the workplace. I mean, I have to make sure that all the words are spelled right on my company's website and all of our advertising materials, but they aren't exactly five-dollar words, and as a former fifth-grade spelling bee champion, I think I could have completed this task even before I entered the hallowed halls of my alma mater.

So, not only does my degree serve no practical purpose in my professional life. But also, it has given me sufficient knowledge of the English language's grammar rules to become significantly irritated when I hear others abusing them.

Today's example: Jesse McCartney's song "Leavin." I hear this song played on the radio approximately 548 times a day, and although the teenybopper inside me* secretly kinda likes it, the song also drives me completely crazy. And not just because hearing a kid that looks like this say the word "shorty" makes me cringe like I did when David Archuleta tried to make the lyric "my boo" sound natural when performing Chris Brown's "With You." Stick to what you know, kids.

No, the real reason I want to punch Jesse McCartney's songwriter is for the crime of randomly interchanging pronouns. The whole song is directed at some girl, one who's apparently the baddest little thing that he's ever seen. Almost every line says "you": "I've been watching you all day/Man, that thing you got behind you is amazing." Except for this ONE TIME when he switches to "I" for the first line of each chorus:

Why don't you tell him that I'm leavin, never looking back again

I just don't understand! Wouldn't this chick's "shorty" be happy if, in fact, Jesse leaves, never looks back again, and therefore stops hitting on his girlfriend? How is that a threat to the guy to treat her better? So I assume he is giving her a specific script for how to tell her shorty that she's the one who is leaving. But if that's the case, then why does he switch BACK to "you" in the very next line?

You found somebody who does it better than he can

You see my dilemma. Thanks a lot, B.A. in English. My teenybopper self just wants to relax and enjoy this crappy song, but she can't focus when her grownup counterpart is tearing out her hair in frustration every time it comes on the airwaves.


*This is the part of me that still uses LipSmackers instead of grownup chapstick because hello, it tastes better. Even if it makes the Target pharmacist laugh at me when she rings it up. That's a different blog.

What the hell, China?

Since it only occurs once every four years, lately I've taken to watching the Michael Phelps show Olympics. Due to a 12-hour time difference and the fact that I'm 75 years old, most of the events occur after my bedtime, so I must resort to checking CNN.com the next day to read recaps of my favorite events. For every article about an event, though, there's another one about how China has been faking it more than Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally.

Now that the Chinese female gymnasts have beaten out the U.S. team for the gold, there has been increased grumbling that some of those tiny girls can't be older than 14, even though their passports (issued by the Chinese government) insist they are at least 16, the minimum age to compete in the Michael Phelps show Olympics.

Looking at photos of the Chinese team, I have to agree with protesters, and to that I say, what the hell, China? Athletes here in America might occasionally dabble in the performance-enhancing drugs, but they'd never stoop to something so low as lying about their age just to gain an advantage in a sporting competition.


Apparently China's not only interested in winning as many gold medals as possible, though. They're also out to show everyone that they can throw the best darn-tootin' Michael Phelps show Olympics the world has ever seen - even if they have to fake their way through that, too. Yesterday this story broke, revealing that the cute little girl who sang "Ode to the Motherland" during the opening ceremonies was actually lip-synching the performance. The girl who actually provided the vocals was deemed not good-looking enough to perform the song, thereby setting a new world record in earliest onset of low self-esteem.

What the hell, China? Maybe some musicians in America occasionally lip-synch their performances (everyone say hi to Ashlee Simpson!), but at least they provide their own vocals on the recordings. We'd never do something like, say, give a recording contract to someone who lip-synchs to the vocals of those who "lack a marketable image."


China is so desperate for perfection that even some of the fireworks during the opening ceremonies were faked. Worried about "poor visibility," the Beijing organizing committee opted to use some previously recorded footage of computerized fireworks.

Seriously, what the hell, China? Are you really so superficial that you feel the need to enhance something that, in its natural state, already inspires awe and reverance from probably about half of the world's population? Unheard of.


You should be ashamed of yourselves.

TMI? Too Much Information. It's just easier to say "TMI." I used to say "don't go there," but that's lame.

I'm in line for the security checkpoint at Pittsburgh International Airport. There is a woman in front of me with two early-elementary-school-age children...old enough to not wear diapers and to carry their own bags, but young enough that they still need specific instructions. The woman looks more than slightly frazzled. "Put your bag up here, honey. We don't need that bin, please put it back over there. Take your shoes off and put them with Mommy's. No, don't take your socks off, just your shoes. Leave your socks on!!"

With this last line, she looks back at me and smiles apologetically. I smile back, because I assume she feels guilty for holding up the line, but I'm not in any great hurry and I want to reassure her that I'm not getting impatient. I also nod knowingly, as if to say, "Kids can be this way sometimes!" Of course, I have no children, only cats, but they would certainly be terrors if I ever took them to the airport.

Don't assume things, Sarah. She wants to apologize for something other than their lack of speed:

"He's got toe fungus, you know."

I'm not sure what my face looked like after that, but it couldn't have been pretty. Was that necessary? Keeping your socks on is standard protocol for airport security screenings, so did I really need an explanation for why you were so adamant that your son's socks remained on his crusty little toes? I think not. Shudder.

One more reason I love going to the airport.

Kill you? I don't wanna kill you...you complete me.

OK, David Farnham might have been slightly justified in leaving his two-year-old locked in his car while he went to a midnight showing of The Dark Knight. That movie is FANTASTIC.

David probably had a babysitter all lined up, just as any responsible parent would do, but maybe she canceled at the last minute, and what was David supposed to do then? He already had his ticket, so that would have been $10 down the drain (and since now he'll have to save up to post bond and pay his lawyer, he can't justify that kind of irresponsible spending). Plus, Batman is always there to support the good people of Gotham, so for David to turn around and not support Batman in his big blockbuster endeavor...well, that's just plain inconsiderate. So it was either leave the kid in the car or bring the kid to the movie and be that person I hate who has a crying kid at the movie theater. I think the judge and jury at David's child abuse trial should have to watch the movie first before they decide whether or not to convict him. I'm just saying. He could plead not guilty by reason of irresistible AWESOMENESS and they would probably have to let him off.

In conclusion, you should drop what you're doing right this second and go see The Dark Knight. Just maybe make triple sure that your babysitter is available. A lot of stuff happens in the last ten minutes, and you don't want to miss it on account of being arrested.