Pop Culture Run Amok

I found out this past weekend that my mom has watched, of her own volition, Flavor of Love AND Rock of Love.

I thought it would take a lot more than something as trivial as celebreality television to crack my foundation; in one off the cuff remark by my mom after a family dinner Saturday night, I think my world was rocked. I'm talking an off-the-Richter-scale realization that my parents have cable and could possibly watching the same crap television that I secretly watch at 2am when I can't sleep. I'm still feeling the aftershocks!

I mean, this is akin to finding out one of my parents dabbled in drugs or had an illegitimate child!

Ok, maybe that's a little dramatic. But when my 54 year old mother could name all of the Flavor of Rock of Love Part 34323 girls, I was aghast.

I still am.

What has this world come to.

Sticker on your rear windshield?

Might as well be a bullseye.

Driving in traffic yesterday morning (well, mostly sitting in traffic, thank you Pope Benedict), I began thinking: How does someone decide what sticker to put on their bumpers/rear windshield?

There's the usual university window sticker faithful, proud alumni who want to let you know that they went to a better school than you did.

There's the flower child faithful, who put butterflies and rainbows all over their car's backside, just to let you know they're cute, girly, gay, and/or under the age of 18.

Then there's the political sticker posse, who want to let you know that behind this Suburban driving, gas guzzling ride is a diehard NRA member who, if you shoot them a dirty look when they cut you off for the 392nd time on the highway, that there's a loaded Glock in the glove compartment.

Likewise, there are the campaign stickers, no matter how out of date they are. You are supporting your candidate with that faded Sore/Loserman sticker from 2001 no matter what the public says. It's your civic duty, even though Pat Buchanan isn't even running for anything, or you still support Bill Richardson though he never polled above 14%.

Like tramp stamps, rearview window and bumper stickers are forever. Just like that tribal tattoo just above the crack of your ass, (for Jisrael who actually read this blog I have two words for you: plastic thong) I will judge you for having a lame set of stickers on your car. Keep it simple; keep it timeless, and for God's sake, keep it funny. Otherwise, what am I going to pay attention to when driving, the actual highway?

That's crazy talk.

Would you like some cheese

With that whine?

God bless my employees, they really do deal with a lot of crap, changes, difficult customers and less than forthcoming students with grace and ease.

But if you see a problem, don't tell me about every instance of the problem. Fix it, and let me know the overarching theme after you have adequately fixed it.

Or, if you bring a problem to me, and I say that I will speak with the person who caused it, don't immediately back down and say "well, I don't want it to be a big deal or beat a dead horse." Must not have been that big of a problem, huh? Must've been ok and you just felt like hearing yourself talk for 5 more minutes?

Did you also notice that during those 5 minutes (5 minutes of my life I will never get back, mind you) that I was sorting through a stack of paper, typing an email, and mentally querying 34 different ways to staple your mouth shut?

Probably not, because you live in self absorption land. Population you.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Thank You Uncle Sam...

For reminding me that I have no real net worth.

I find the tax talk humorous, as I have a student assistant of mine who is an accounting major; coworkers with property and IRAs and retirement; my parents who are talking about retirement more and more each passing week (which is bizarre to me, seeing as my dad now takes every Wednesday off, and coming from a man who has taken 4 sick days in his entire adult life, that is quite a feat)...I realized something.

I am worth. Nothing.

I mean, I pay my taxes. I have a decent annual income and its growing with every passing performance review (Thanks State of Maryland). I owed the state of Virginia money this year and I have a car loan so, clearly, a few people are happy to see me being a semi-productive member of society as it means they can take more money from me.

But I need to start investing or buying property or punching out some spawn. I think my tax liability would go way down and really, come tax time, it'd be nice to not resort to filling out the 1040EZ form because I don't really have cause to itemize..well, anything.

My taxes this year, took me :drumroll please: 25 minutes to prepare and file. And that included trying to find my personal property tax bill from last year to see if it would help me get some more money back.

It didn't, just in case anyone is keeping score.

So, if anyone has an island they'd like to sell me, a condo that might be a little less than what you expected and you want to unload it, I've got that $600 stimulus package refund burning a hole in my pocket and I've got to do my part to help jump start the floundering economy. I mean, what else am I going to do with it?

I could go to dinner or by a new pair of sassy shoes, but really, am I the only one who thinks that spending$600 in the face of enormous mortgage and credit card debt is like pissing on a forest fire just so you can say you "did your part?"

I didn't think so.

Bringin it back

So I've been on, what, almost a year-long hiatus. I think it's high time I start posting again. And really, I know you guys out there in blogger land will appreciate it.

If you think of something interesting that you want me to write about, I am there. I am always looking for inspiration, and what better inspiration than my readers?!

That being said, this exercise is the last post that I put up on Blogger, and maybe it's a good place to start. Here goes!

You know the deal. Open your music library, put it on shuffle. Write down what comes up.

Opening Credits:
Redhead Walking - REM

Waking Up:
Forget Myself - Third Eye Blind

First Day At School:
Stop This Train - John Mayer

Falling in Love:
This Year's Love - David Gray

Breaking Up:
1, 2, 3, 4 Something New - Coolio

Prom:
Push It - Garbage

Life’s Okay:
Fly Like a Bird - Mariah Carey

Mental Breakdown:
Slow Dancing in a Burning Room - John Mayer

Driving:
Not Coming Home - Maroon 5

Flashback:
Hynotize - Notorious BIG

Getting Back Together:
Maneater - Hall and Oates!

Wedding:
This is the Last Time - Keane

Birth of a Child:
Rescue - Eve 6

Final Battle:
Rock You Like a Hurricane - The Scorpions

Death Scene:
October - U2

Funeral Song:
Darwin - Third Eye Blind

End Credits:
Black Cat - Janet Jackson