Well then… that last blog post was a wee bit more controversial (and read) than I expected.
I’ve never really been popular enough to have trolls before, so that’s been an interesting development the last couple of days. Some guy on Twitter said:
This article made me genuinely mad
“Yeah, you can have abs, but you’re sacrificing a cheeseburger, leading to depression” (Paraphrasing)
and then, The human race is worthless
I wanted to give him a hug and ask him if he was taking all his pills.
Apparently I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time trying to build an audience with all the flailing around spending hours constructing a humorous narrative or building an elaborate satirical flowchart. I clearly should have been funneling my energy into writing about stuff everyone’s already super worked up about. Therefore, next on the agenda: Obamacare and breast-feeding; I heard they both cause cancer. After that I’d like to talk about twerking and why I think it should be taught to all seventh grade girls.
But really, I think what we’ve learned through this experience is there are two distinct types of people in this world: those who dip their pizza in ranch dressing, and those who do not. Even though we both have strong feelings about our positions and we’ll never see the world from each other’s perspectives, I think we need to work towards respecting and accepting each other. All we need is love, people (and ranch dressing).
This post doesn’t really have a point except to get something else on my site because the other one was stressing me out. So, in other Friday news:
Jason’s taking me to a work function tonight and I was going to wear cute pants and a sparkly sweater, but then I heard it was ‘cocktail’ but ‘not tie’ attire, so I had to try on everything I own and take selfies to send to my friends this morning to decide what to wear. No man should have to bear the burden of having the wife at the fancy company management dinner who has blue hair, is excessively chatty after 2 cocktails and is underdressed. It’s just not fair to put him in that position.
I also got overly aggressive with my round brush and hair-dryer this morning and singed off a chunk of my bangs. It was like that video of the girl, but with fewer teaching moments. I haven’t decided if it’s unnoticeable enough or I need to cover it somehow. I feel like if Jason has to be the guy at the work dinner with the drunk, blue-haired, underdressed wife who also has a merkin glued to her forehead, he might just be better off hiring an escort.
Gray (9) has his first orchestra concert next Monday. Last night at dinner, he and Jonas (6) were discussing it:
Jonas: Gray says he’s going to have a concert at school during that day, too, that I’ll get to see him play at.
Me: Oh yeah?
Jonas: Yeah, but he’s not allowed to wave at me.
Gray: No, my teacher said we can’t wave.
Jonas: But he said he’ll go like this when he sees me *gives a dedicated gansta nod*.
Gray: *also gansta nodding* That’s what I do to say hi when I don’t want to wave.
So I haven’t learned exactly where it is that men learn that Joey-from-Friends ‘how you doin’ head nod, but it obviously happens early in life.
That’s it around these parts. Carry on.