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Fwd: Forwards are so 1998

25 Sep

You know what I’m talkin’ bout.  Inevitably, every day, a FWD pops into your inbox.  If this doesn’t happen to you, I want to be you.  If so, you have a mom, mother-in-law and a couple of friends like I do (God love ’em).


Do you ever wonder who started this, and more importantly – why they did?  Was there, at some point in time, really a burned baby named Jessica who needed money for hospital bills?  Did someone really sit down on a theater seat and get poked by a needed with a note that said, “You’ve been infected with HIV” and feel the need to warn the entire world?  And, the free stuff forwards…was this a cruel joke all along, or did people really get 150 dollars to spend at Outback Steakhouse, free IBM computers or a dollar for each person they passed the email along to from Bill Gates?

I’ve decided to rank the different types of forwards in order of annoyance:
  • The “ALL CAPS Subject Line” forward, i.e., YOU MUST READ THIS!!  I delete these immediately because I don’t like to be yelled at in real life, or while checking my email.
  • The “Watch What Happens” forward, where if you forward the email to 10 people, a dog/cat/bird/you’llfindoutwhenyousendthis will magically appear on your screen and do something cute.  Seriously.  This would not happen even if you sent it to 5 million people.  If you wish to see a cute animal, turn on your television and watch Animal Planet.
  • The “Drug Recall” forward.  These tell us there’s an ingredient in everything that is going to kill us, especially cold medicines.  The ingredient name is always something similar to aphilastuiomne.  Really people, crack heads smoke crack and continue breathing.  I think you’ll be ok taking a tablespoon of Robitussin.
  • The “Chain Letter” forward, where if you send this to 8 of your friends in the next 8 seconds, good luck will be with you all through the year.  Yawn.
  • The “Bad Things Will Happen” forward, which is a lot like the Chain Letter forward, only this one goes to great lengths to tell you what terrible tragedies have happened when people didn’t pass the forward along.  “My aunt’s best friend got this forward and instead of passing it along, went into the kitchen to cook dinner.  Five minutes later, she got a phone call saying her son was involved in a terrible accident.”  I saw an accident on my way to work this morning – do you think that person’s dad didn’t forward the forward?  That son of a b…
  •  The “Free Stuff” forward, explained above.  My favorite part of these is the alleged tracking system that is used to keep up with who sent who what.  That is just not possible, and moreover, why would Microsoft care who you sent an email to?
  • The “Danger” forward, otherwise known as “watch your back because everyone is out to get you while you are shopping for the holidays.”  This isn’t to say that there are not a whole bunch o’ crazies out there, but I’m not convinced they use the “smell this perfume” route to abduct you.  I’m pretty sure they just pull out a gun.  Unless of course they read your forward, and now they’ve found a genius scheme.  Way to go.  And thank you for signing the bottom of the email, Deputy So-and-So from BlahBlah, California, but I still don’t believe it happened.
  • The “If You Love Me” forward, usually accompanied by some type of friendship poem, which asks you not only to pass it along, but also to send it back to the person who sent it to you.  To all of my friends and family who read this (there are like two of you, I think):  I am showing that I love you/value your friendship by NOT sending you forwards.
  • The “Political” forward.  I received four of these today, and I’ve determined that Hillary (Clinton) is behind these.  She’s bitter about not making the ticket, so she’s decided to pester American voters into indifference.
Here’s a chance to do something for your fellow man:  The next time you see the Fwd in your subject line, just delete it.  Don’t read it, and get all sucked in to the forward hysteria.  Delete.  Choose not to read about which Barbie represents your college town, which candidate looks most like a giraffe, who Tommy Hilfiger really wants to wear his clothes or the Gas Out of ’08.  Delete.


You must pass this blog link along to 9 people in the next minute, or your fingers will turn to dust.

Ahem, more Shout Outs

24 Sep

It’s a girl!  Julie and Russell have kept themselves (and the rest of us) in suspense for 9 months, but they had a baby girl yesterday.  They named her Georgia, which I’m obviously a fan of.  She’s destined for greatness.


That guy I married has a birthday today.  Welcome to being as old as I am, dear. 

This is News?

24 Sep

You’ve got to be kidding me.  I’m fairly certain that even my dog knew that.

I Hate What You’re Wearing

22 Sep


The offender:  America Ferrera


The item(s) in question:  Dress and Hair, 2008 Emmy Awards

My thoughts:  It has always been my belief that we vertically challenged women should stick together.  Therefore, it is out of love and concern that I tell you this:  that dress makes you look frumpy, dumpy and about three inches tall.  First of all, I’m not sure who fitted you, but here’s a news flash – it doesn’t fit.  It’s too big, darling, and consequently looks like you went to Publix, grabbed a few Hefty bags, taped them together and hopped in a limo.  Secondly, the length.  Good Lord the length.  Here are your options from now on:  to the floor, gracing the top of the knee or, above the knee.  Calf length is not an option for any occasion, except maybe yoga, for people of our stature.  Lastly, the hair.  I know what you were going for, and while the Old Hollywood look is quite classy, yours turned out a bit frizzy.  I don’t love it.

The solution:  A to-the-floor fitted dress or above-the-knee loosely fitted dress, very tall heels, and sleek straight hair.

Karma

18 Sep

The following is an excerpt from a Google chat conversation with a friend of mine, whose identity I must protect so said friend isn’t “outed” for Google chatting during what may or may not have been work hours.


me:  so, you know how i live in freakin’ BFE
me:  well, i woke up today to no…..water.  the well is broken.
friend:  wtf?
me:  i know, right?
friend:  you live in a dark hole.
me:  who has well water anyway?  i guess i live in “little house on the prairie days” – just call me laura ingalls.
friend:  my grandparents still have well water.
me:  i mean, this is not me.  i do not belong in a town that has wells.  or livestock.
me:  a real live rooster crows at me in the morning.  he lives next door at our neighbors.  and by “next door” i mean across the field.
me:  you know why this has happened, right?
friend:  why?
me:  my rant about williams brice stadium.  that’s karma.

Is That Bad?

17 Sep

So, I’m not really sure how this got started, but a while back (um, like 7 years ago) my friends and I began saying “Is that bad?” after we made a questionable statement/insult/revelation.  Usually the answer is “yes” – but just for kicks, we ask it anyway.


Ergo, I give you my “Is that bad?” list (for today, anyway):

Sometimes, to our perfectly nice and friendly UPS delivery man, I pretend to be on the phone so he doesn’t walk to my desk and strike up a conversation.  ITB?

On my way to work this morning, I had road rage rant against a man in a truck that had “Smile, God Loves You” painted on the tailgate.  ITB?

I do not think all babies are cute.  ITB?

I would rather watch The Hills than the evening news.  ITB?

I’m interested in going to another country to help little children, but I really don’t want to use my vacation days to do so.  ITB?

While sitting in a doctor’s office, I always try to guess what the other people in the waiting room “have.”  ITB?

Occasionally, when I’m out shopping and see someone I know, I avoid them so I don’t have to chat.  ITB?

Shout Outs

16 Sep

My sassy, awesome and self-proclaimed “reserved” friend Erica has a birthday today.


Celebrating their second wedding anniversary are my adorable brother, Chad, and his sweet wife, Ashley.

Update: Holly the Boston Terror

16 Sep

In my blog about Marley & Me, I introduced you to my parents’ lively Boston Terrier named Holly – the sweet, yet destructive pet they’ve had for about a year now.


Her latest adventures:
-Grabbed green bell pepper off of kitchen table, ate entire pepper before my mom knew it was missing.  She found seed remnants in three rooms.
-After the screen had been replaced entirely on the back porch, she ate her way through two pieces on a boring weekday (while everyone else was at work).
-Nabbed a loaf of bread off the kitchen table, tore hole in bag and slobbered on a few pieces while my mom chased her through the house.
-Attempted suicide by taking a bottle of Ambien off the nightstand and helping herself to a few.  Guess what?  It didn’t phase her.

I’ve decided that she is hyperactive and depressed all at the same time.  Maybe if they leave small doses of Adderall and Zoloft lying around, the problem will take care of itself.

A Memo

15 Sep

To:  Williams Brice Stadium


From:  South Carolina vs. Georgia game day spectators

Subject:  Water Shortage

During a 3:30 game, with temperatures above 95 degrees, perhaps, PERHAPS, you should purchase more water than usual.  You know, because it would be terrible for a stadium to oh, say, run out of water (and Powerade, and Diet Coke, and regular Coke – which you also ran out of, but I’m giving you a pass for since I’m feeling generous today).  Call me crazy, but I think water is fairly essential when 90,000 people are crammed into a stadium with the sun beating down on them for over three hours.  Hell, it doesn’t even have to be fancy water…if you see that you’re getting low on bottled water, just grab a hose pipe and start filling up cups with that.  We would have paid $10.00 a cup for it, I can assure you.

I don’t know who Mr. Williams and Mr. Brice are/were, but somewhere those guys are frowning.  I’m sure of it.

Where Were You?

11 Sep

I was walking back from my early morning yoga class at the College of Charleston.  I was thirsty, so I went into the Stern Center to get a Diet Coke.  As I walked in the building I saw a large crowd of students standing around and looking up at the one television in the room.  No one was talking, which was strange, so I asked the closest person to me what was going on.  “A plane hit the World Trade Center,” he said.  “On accident?” I replied.  “I don’t know,” he said.  Being the news junkie I am, I decided to forgo the drink and instead walked as fast as I could around the corner to the ADPi house.  I turned on the television and planted myself on the floor in the living room, just in time to see the second plane hit.  My friend Staci came in around this time, and we watched the coverage together until both of the towers fell.  I even remember everyone who came in and out of the house that morning to ask if we’d heard, and going up to Corrie’s room to discuss our shock and confusion.

Inevitably every year around this time, I find myself describing where I was (and listening to where others were, too) on September 11, 2001.  It’s frozen in our minds the way tragic events usually are.  We remember them vividly, and will still be able to describe them in years to come with just as much detail as we would have the day after they happened.  When children who have no recollection of what the New York City skyline looked like with the Twin Towers are grown, we will still be able to tell them exactly where we were and who we were with that day.


I remember walking down King Street the day after 9/11 and being spoken to by total strangers.  We had a certain bond as Americans after those attacks.  A “we’re in this together” kind of attitude.  We were united and proud, and we vowed to never forget.  

To never forget what happened that day is the easy part.  What’s harder for me, is not to forget how lucky I am to live in a country where I’m free to do whatever I please.  Where my rights are protected every day by courageous men and women who put their county above themselves.  I take it for granted, as most of us do, until something like September 11th comes along and reminds me just how grateful I am to live in a place “with liberty and justice for all” – and how proud I am to be an American. 
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