How to Be Yourself

How to Be Yourself

Subtitle: Never be surprised when wisdom comes not from some sage person who wrote a bestseller but comes from your piercer. 

Don’t judge a book by it’s cover. 

Step 1: Know who you are. Like REALLY know and not just go with what’s trendy. Going back to a conversation I had with a good friend a while ago, just know who you are and what makes you tick. Case in point: Nerd is now cool. This bothers me to NO end! I have been an incredible dork my entire life: I can recite (Yeah like word for word it’s creepy) all three original Star Wars films and translate the languages, my first tattoo was from the Neverending Story when I was 18, I get and always have gotten excited over Algebra, I did theatre in school, etc. 

I was a DORK. A NERD. A GEEK. And it was NOT cool. 

Granted, I had the punky pink haired weirdness that made me some cute oddity in high school and college so I had a great high school and college experience but that’s moot. 

It is NOT cool to magically be into RPG’s because it’s trendy. 

It is NOT cool that you’re buying Voltron underpants at Hot Topic when you picked on my collection I had when I was 8. 

It is NOT cool to start wearing shirts about how hard a geek’s life is when you have been one for about five hot minutes. 

And it’s OK to NOT be the latest trend. Just know who YOU are and go with it! 

Step 2: Accept who you are. Now, this is the hardest thing I think for anyone, but once you know who you are, just roll with it. There’s nothing wrong with you!! Don’t like the latest TV trend? You’re probably saving money on cable. Don’t like the new hit song? You’re probably not having to suffer those horrible morning DJs (Does anyone listen to that crap?? I mean it’s god awful and they do the same damn pranks every week. Originality anyone?). Don’t like the latest bestseller? You’re probably not wasting any money on weird bondage crap your husband will never use. And all of that is OK. 

Step 3: Say what you say. Now, there is a difference between correction communication Last week's blog :) and worrying about offending anyone. Always try to be kind but to be honest you are always gonna offend someone sometime (PENIS!) and you can’t drive yourself insane trying to decide whether or not comment A is gonna offend friend B even though it really isn’t offensive because it’s a joke but everything (POOP!) offends them and you’re worried that they’ll jam up the copier in front of you because they do that (WEED!) to people who offend them or start rumors about you. 

WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?!?

There is a difference between being considerate and being a doormat. 

Don’t be a doormat. 

Just don’t be an asshat either. 

Penis (Daniel’s :p ) 

Did I offend you??

Step 4: Do what you do. Ok, first, see Step 3 above. Those rules pretty much apply but in your actions you’ve got to follow through and be yourself. Don’t just talk the talk, but walk the walk. Take my insanity for example.  I like body art, a lot. A whole lot. Like I was HEARTBROKEN that Michael Shanks doesn’t have a tattoo because to me that would only make him that much hotter. (Athena, could you imagine that body with INK!!! MELT!! - Focus Bri focus, BLOG). So, I stopped worrying about what others thought (except for my job - I made sure it was cool with them - I need to eat ya know) and just did it. 15 piercings and 7 tattoos later, I’m still not done. (Granted I had 6 of those piercings and 3 of those tattoos before I got myself back...)

Don’t like it?

I don’t really care. 

Hot Roommate likes them and he’s about all who I’m trying to please. 

Step 5: Take chances. Put yourself out there. Honestly, you never know what will happen. I told my current employer a few years ago that I wanted a job that didn’t exist. Guess what? It does now. I wanted to finish my favorite TV series in a way that wasn’t some stupid shut up the fans canned makes no sense at all romance. So I wrote it. People seem to really like it too. My son’s class needed a room mother and my daughter’s scout troop needed a leader. I said I would do it, knowing full well that I’m NOT the typical mom and freak some other moms out with my body art. Guess what? Both are going well. 

Just do it. 

Oops, did I steal a Nike slogan? 

My bad, considering free advertising. You make good shoes. 

Step 6: Have faith in yourself. I’m not gonna shit ya, it’s hard to be yourself. People want everyone to be the same, be what they want them to be and when they aren’t they will do their best to make you want to crawl into a hole and die. Now, there is a sick part of me that wants to tell you to purchase some pig’s blood and go all Carrie on them (google this if you do not know the reference, it makes me seem less insane) but then again that might be my current obsession with horror films. Just smile, sit back and realize that they are just too damn scared to be themselves and jealous that you aren’t. 

This is where my piercer comes in. When I went to get my lip ring switched out my kids got to meet my piercer Jason. My son has a red mohawk and a skull and crossbones earring. My daughter has a short TinkerBell pixie hair cut with pink hair. When I introduced them to him the first thing he did was get down into the floor and look them both in the eyes and said this: 

“You guys are great. You keep being yourselves, no matter what that is. Be true to yourself and you’ll never go wrong. Give me a high five.” 

Not a lot makes me tear up. 

THAT did. 

Step 7: Don’t judge others for doing what you are doing. You don’t like Nascar (I’m using this as an example because I cannot for the life of me get the idea of cars driving around in circles to be entertaining, but to each his own) then fine, don’t hate on someone because they do. No nasty remarks, no “sarcastic” or “snarky” comments, just accept it if you want to be their friend. Playful teasing, fine, I do that often with some really good buddies of mine, but it ends there. I don’t begrudge my friends for their insanity any more than they begrudge me for mine. Gotta give to receive. 

Step 8: Erase negativity. And I don’t just mean social media, although we do need to take a break there. Look, I don’t have time for that complicated process that is unfriending and I barely have time to unfollow. So here’s the deal. If your entire FaceBook or Twitter or Tumblr or WHATEVER is just “Woe is me, my life sucks, my ex sucks, my baby daddy owe me some diapers, bitch, piss, moan, how in the hell did you make it to adulthood anyway....” UNFRIEND ME. You are toxic, like waste, and I need you gone. Make sure, however, to extend this to your Real Life as well. If there is a friend that EVERY time you hang out they make you feel like crap or like you want to initiate the zombie apocalypse, then STOP talking to them. Just stop. More toxic waste. And trust me, I watch enough horror movies to know that toxic waste is NOT a good thing. 

Step 9: Be there for others. You’re not an island (this is different from wanting to LIVE on one - I want an island for me, Daniel and Belgian chocolate but I digress). We need other people, people to bitch to AND people to bitch to you. Yea, that means you gotta listen and give advice and shit. Or at least listen. For the advice I’ve got like 80 or so damn entries here, so just forward my blog address.

Step 10: Wine. Note that I just said wine. Yeah, so of course I could recommend a dry Spanish red or perhaps a crisp Australian Riesling (I know, not German but them Aussies can WORK a grape!) but this blog is about being yourself. Drink whatever you like, even Gas Station wine (Moscato) if that’s your fancy. 

Just let me know when you pop open that bottle. 

I’ll join you. 

How to Know We Are in Our Last Days

How to Know We Are in Our Last Days

Subtitle: If you are not convinced yet, well, I should probably just leave you to the zombies. 

Miss the countdown?? It’s days now, days. I honestly cannot believe you are still playing online and not preparing. 

Sign #1: The weather. At this point I would like to remind everyone that I have a Master’s Degree in Ancient History and Culture (yes, yes, if you’re new to this crazy train you just thought well ding ding THAT explains the Daniel Jackson/Michael Shanks obsession - yes, it does, especially since I discovered who he was AFTER I got my degree and tats...). Now, we all know from the book of Revelation that shit’s gonna hit the fan and it really already has.  There have been earthquakes all over the place, snowstorms, hurricanes.  Legit, I’m waiting for the locusts. No Hot Roommate, that’s not funny. Stop throwing dead beetles at me. 

Sign #2: The Mayans. Let’s face it, everybody on the planet has been wrong in predicting crap except the Mayans. These great people are so frakkin’ smart that every single damn time they got it right. Here are some predictions that came true, including, but not limited to: 

1. The arrival of Hernan Cortes
2. 9/11
3. Hitler
4. The Black Hole in our galaxy
5. The birth of my second child
6. Daniel Jackson’s ascension 
7. The cancellation of SGU
8. The fact that Sophia would become a zombie thereby having to be killed by Rick at the end of season 2. 

You get the point. They’re some smart mothers. 

Sign #3 The Stores Know. No, I’m serious, because they’re doing little tiny things that are freaking me out. Party City in my area, for example, has “Mayan End of the World” party supplies but NO New Year’s and a limited Christmas Selection. The grocery store is stocking “End of the World Beer.” Everybody and their mama is pushing TV’s like mad, in Hot Roommate’s humble opinion so they can sell everything off, make money and buy Twinkies before the zombies come...

Sign #4 And speaking of Twinkies, Hostess went out of business. Now, my friends, we can look at this from two different angles. We can see this from two angles. One - the collapse of an American Icon and the loss of many important jobs which is not what this recovering economy needs or Two - those little rich old white men that own Hostess know. They know this is the end. They have shut down operations to hold themselves up in a bunker like area with the ingredients and recipe to make the only foodstuff to survive last days...

Sign #5 The Media knows. Ok, so not only is there a show called Doomsday Preppers (which is HILARIOUS and TERRIFYING at the same time) but the makers of this show that film and assess the preparedness of these people TAKE THEM SERIOUSLY. Like 100%. And these people are not prepping for the December 21st end of the world where the zombies are coming, they each have their own take on what is going down. Here are just a few:

• 5 category 5 tornados hitting all at once in the SAME damn place 
• The Madrid Fault splitting the USA in half
• Nuclear war, not with the Middle East but with RUSSIA 
• Rise in sea level (sudden mind you, not gradual)
• Pretty much any Michael Shanks disaster film

And show aside, the commercials are for prepping supplies - seeds, food that will survive last days, oxygen masks and they’re are serious too. 

This is the proof that Saturday Night Live sucks now. They could do an ENTIRE episode spoofing both the preppers AND the commercials. But they don’t. They do weird hipster shit that’s not funny. 

Someone call Will Ferrell 

Sign #6 Obama. I’m gonna offend people here, but please remember that I live in the South. Some people here still think there’s a war going on. On November 6th 2012 we re-elected Barack Obama as our president. This is not political. This is racial. He is a black man. We have elected a black man TWICE to lead our country. The night he won like ALL of my black friends called me and said, and I quote: 

“Bri, you better be setting up for us to come to your place on the 21st. We’ve elected a black man president. Twice. We are in our last days. You better settle up with the Lord soon.” 

I tend to listen to them. A lot. I’m a little concerned...

Sign #7 The South shall rise again! So, then, the VERY next day states starting trying to secede from the Union. South Carolina did first, of course, again, but they’re been pulling that shit since 1787 but if you want to get technical 1776 because they never wanted to be in the Union in the first place. Let them leave. I’m not sure why they are still here anyway. But rational states petitioned, like New York, citing Obama’s reelection. WTF!?!  Romney wanted to cut FEMA!!! Who is currently helping you dig out from Sandy. And furthermore, let’s put politics aside, go ahead, leave. See how much you get done without the government. We won’t let you back in. And have a good time dealing with China on your own. Except for Texas. You need to stay. You’ve got that Twinkie bunker. 

Sign #8 Towel Hoarding. If you have not read the Black Friday blog please see this: Click Here.  We went out for our innocent Black Friday shopping to get bikes and TVs and noted that almost every store had towels for sale. Thinking this to be a perfect opportunity to stock up on some home essentials we set out for the towel area, which were clearly marked on the store map which should have been a hint in and of itself, we made our way over to said bins. And they were GONE. ALL of them. At 8:07...SEVEN minutes after the start. Befuddled, we proceeded to the register, wondering how in the world we missed the memo on necessary towel looting when we caught sight of a cart with ALL of the towels. You don’t NEED that many towels!! Why do you have them!?! Unless...wait...you know about last days....

Follow him...

Sign #9 Honey Boo Boo Child. First, the fact that an overweight poorly taken care of child in her pursuit of winning contests which only live to serve to objectify women is entertaining to anyone should be indicator enough, but this poor child and her disgusting mother make more than the following necessary professions:

1. Teachers
2. Police Officers
3. Doctors
4. Fire Fighters
5. FILL IN JUST ABOUT ANY OTHER FRAKKIN THING IN LIFE WE ACTUALLY NEED

Secondly, and I cringe as I write this so this is all I am going to say on the topic: Fork Lift Toe. 

And if you enjoy this show, here is a link to the film Idiocracy. You need to watch it NOW. 

Sign #10 Dick Clark is NOT rocking in the New Year. He died and no jokes here, I cried. Dick Clark has been Rockin’ in our New Year’s Eves since 1974, (mine since 1980 :) ) which means that you too Mr. Canadian Hot Pants probably don’t remember a New Year’s without him! I just don’t think it is a coincidence that he died this year... I have nothing against Ryan Seacrest, I find him kind of charming, but I am incline to believe that without Dick Clark counting down we’re not going to make it that far...

See what I mean?? We only have 18 days....

I will be sending more information on Thursday. 

Honorable Mentions for Signs of Last Days: 

Michael Shanks says that Toronto winning a sports championship of any kind is a sign. (Don’t watch sports, trusting you on this one cutie)

Adriane says we are down to one Golden Girl.

Ryan says Disney owns Star Wars. 

Mary says that Pot is finally legal. 

Natalie cites the Pope is on Twitter. 

Get the idea... 

It’s ALL over...

How To Do Thanksgiving Dinner

How To Do Thanksgiving Dinner

Subtitle: So in reality my mom does most of this but I kinda get roped in. Then I cook another for some of my closest friends. I am a glutton for punishment. 

Step 1: Plan your menu. Do not use Pinterest. Ok, I’m gonna be frank with you for a moment here, so sit down and grab a whiskey (disregard step 10).  Pinterest is a ploy. It is a ploy by companies and business to make you think that you have Martha Stewart talents when in reality you burn water. I really think it works something like this small flow chart below:

Walmart decides it has an abundance of apples this season --------> Contacts a mommy blogger (those annoying perfect life ones not funny ones like me XD) and says if we give you a bazillion apples and $25 can you make something and take a picture of it post it online and tell everyone it was easy and only cost you $1 to make -------> Mommy blogger says SURE - $25 is SOOO MUCH money to LIE to other mothers and I an going to call my brigade of soap watchers over with me so we can make working moms feel bad ------> 72 non stop painstaking hours later the picture of the one apple that worked is put on Pinterest. 

No offense to stay at home mommies. I used to be one of you. It’s the bitches above I hate. 

Step 2: Shop. This takes some creativity. You don’t want to get everything at Walmart, because clever price match ads or not, they do not have the cheapest price. Here is really how you can save the most money (at least around here) 

• Turkey + $25 of the canned/box food items - Regular Grocery store as the bird will be like $8 if you buy the other $25 worth of stuff there.

• Remainder of boxed/pre-packaged goods - Walmart - bring that ad to price match.

- Fresh Stuff - Farm stand down the road. 

Just don’t take your kids with you, for the love of all things holy and sacred. Think I’m joking? I bought candy corn and swedish fish for the pumpkin pie and seven cans of green beans for one casserole. And no mushroom soup. Or pie crust. No, I’m not going on Pinterest to make it from scratch. 

Step 3: Get a glass of wine. And to think, I was all worried about not drinking as much and here I am just a chugging away on which glass is this, two, three of wine that I started back at step one. Sure, you can cook tipsy, remember the Mexican Food entry? And FYI start with white wine while you are cooking, a German or Australian Riesling. Because, what you do, as any mom does, is start picking and nibbling and picking and nibbling and I have learned from experience. Red wine is harder to clean up when you barf. 

Step 4: The bird. We’re reading this blog to keep this simple, right? Buy a turkey bag. Google it. Right now. (Remember I am lazy you can find this yourself). All you do it thaw that gobbler, pull out the head and guts from inside (Don’t forget this, please - I was the laughing stock of about, well, every Thanksgiving for over five years because I forgot this important step when I was hosting my first dinner at 21 and you asshats are just lucky I invited you and still do so shut up). Don’t not just pop it in the oven as you will have Hot Roommate hovering all over it all day so you don’t get to enjoy that for once you both have a damn day off and don’t let Hot Roommate plus your Pseudo-brother deep fry it. Frying the turkey might be tasty but it is unhealthy and results in your sitting on the porch drinking your second bottle of wine hoping that they do not blow themselves up or launch the bird into orbit. On second thought, this wine is good.  Continue boys...

Step 5: The sides. Get the box. Really, because these Pinterest bitches keep going on and on about how good this recipe is that they got on Pinterest, how much fun it is to spend their lives cooking and wiping asses blah blah blah but really, people like Stove Top. They like canned gravy. Companies spend MILLIONS of dollars on making sure people will eat this. Go ahead, fuss, call the healthy eating and organic police on me but  do you really think the AMOUNT of what you are eating today is good, healthy or not? You CAN get fat for eating too much healthy food too genius. Check Wikipedia. Because if you think that making organic pie is a better alternative to regular pie, you are probably the type of person that thinks that Wikipedia is true. Which, though, in this case, it is. 

Step 6: Dessert.  BUY THEM. Seriously, there has got to be a Marching Band fundraiser around here somewhere!!?! I tried, I really did. I got a weight watchers recipe for filling, got low fat crust, made the filling, poured it in the crust, went to the bathroom and Adorable Nerd has poured candy corn into the damn thing. And it’s Wednesday and I’m not going back to Walmart- that is suicide. No, I’m NOT making a pie from scratch. I have already tried to explain to you that I am not Martha Stewart. Nor am I Michael Shanks who WHAT THE FRAK YOU ARE THE HOTTEST MAN ALIVE AND HILARIOUS AND COOK PIES FROM SCRATCH FOR YOUR FAMILY IT IS JUST NOT FAIR!! (finished, I promise - but really? Can this crush get worse?). I can’t bake, ok? I can make one type of Mexican cake and it takes hours and I’m too drunk to start right now. Sara Lee it is....

Step 7: Serving. So, when you got married your in-laws insisted that you get a set of china and crystal and take grandma’s silver set for special occasions just like this. Don’t waste the time or money or energy. You will use this ONCE, the same year you leave the head in the turkey and never again because you realize that this shit cannot go in the dishwasher and you hate dishes and you do not wear a blue dress. I have one word for you friends: Chinet. They even make it now with cute little printed turkeys. 

Step 8: The prayer. Ok, I have included this step because for me year after year it is the most awkward part of the meal. I’m atheist and have been for a while. I have had to hide it from my family for years but I think they know, hell, my uncle is a minister, so it is really awkward to sit there and listen to you go on and on thanking God for hot coffee and low costs manicures. If there was a God, I am pretty damn sure that he is spending more time worried about children getting maimed in third world countries and not worried about your car, but I digress. As a scout leader I have a prayer I would like to suggest, a real prayer, that I do with my scouts. 

Oh, the lord is good to me

And so I thank the lord

For giving me the things I need 

The sun and the rain and the appleseeds

The lord is good to me

Here is a link of Girl Scouts singing it.(Older Scouts: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJb83gM2Vpo&playnext=1&list=PL9C5E3C58A9D376CB&feature=results_main) 

 Girl Scouts includes all religions and creeds and I have NEVER heard of this offending or making anyone uncomfortable. EVER. Rant over. 

Step 9: The meal. Ok, so TV has taught us that we’re all supposed to gather around the table with a cute little centerpiece and a candle. Dude, this is 2012. First, no one can afford a house with a room like that anymore thanks to lazy people. Second, we have like 22 people at our Thanksgiving. 22! What do we do? We watch Christmas comedies. And quote them. Every year. Like word for word. And then we have the SAME conversation. Verbatim. 

And I enjoy every minute of it. EVERY MINUTE. 

Step 10: Clean up time. Now, if you took my advice it is Chinet to trash and leftover on other Chinet to send out of the door. But you didn’t. You never do unless I say start drinking at step one. So, get a beer and start washing. Just don’t start insulting your helpers, calling your men dish fairies and whatnot. Clean fast. Brew coffee. You need to sober up. 

Shopping starts in a few short hours....

Bring. It. On. 

How to Start the Christmas Season

How to Start the Christmas Season

Subtitle: I am usually forced to be in this. This year I decided to watch. That might have been a bad choice. 

Step 1: Leave early. Yes, the parade starts at 2, but since I live in a small town it is literally the only thing going on except for buy on get one free Starbucks, which I’d like to add is pretty damn amazing in an of itself. However, you would think that since the parade starts at 2:15 and the road (yes THE ROAD not ROADS) close at 2 you would have plently of time to get there if you leave at 1:20 and live fifteen minutes away.  It’s not. How in the hell did so many people move out here without my noticing. Who are you people? I went to high school with the whole town and I don’t know you? Who are you? Regardless, get out of my way. My mom is calling again. For the tenth time. I need wine already. 

Step 2: Wear clothes. First, I feel like this is a step in every other blog. Should I just write an entry on dressing properly? Like always?  Aren’t you cold? Ok, let’s just for a moment disregard the morons wearing t-shirts and shorts in forty degree weather, let’s just focus on these people. See them? Have you seen them on www.peoplepfwalmart.com . Yup, they live here, in my town.  Forget anything else you might have to say about their attire.  Dem bitches GOT to be cold. 

Step 3: Find a place to sit. After you have recovered from the site above, you need to find a place to sit.  Don’t let your mother pick, because she seems to think it is ok to sit by the gutter. It’s a hole, she insists. Yes mom, it is called a gutter and the kids will drop something down there and it will be the end of the world. Mom goes on to ask kids if they want to sit over the hole. It’s a gutter mom. Shut up, she says, I’ve been working all morning. Touche mom, touche. Carry on. 

Step 4: Listen to your mother talk to inanimate objects. Seriously, my mother is hysterical anyway, but to hear her after she has worked and running on little sleep is even better. First, we have the hole incident. Next, my mom starts yelling at people trying to drive into the parade like they can hear her. Then, once my Stargate jacket is recognized (No morons here I am not a veteran - does the GIGANTIC SG-1 patch not give it away!?!?) then my mother proceeds to tell every person on the curb we were sitting on that I drove 14 hours to hug Michael Shanks, that he wished me a Happy Birthday and doesn't do it that much anymore and wished me luck on my half marathon, switching in an instant to why the cops should not tell stupid people to move away from the train track because they deserve to be hit if  they are stupid. God I love her. 

Step 5: Then watch your mom tell off some yuppies. This entire entry has very quickly gone to enjoy a Christmas parade to my mom is the funniest woman alive. Hands down.  Lesson here is that if you show up to a small town parade in your Ralph Lauren sweaters and your $1000 stroller and party right in front of us my mom will TELL YOU OFF. And not with swears or anything, she will say the most downright mean things that you will not understand because you are not as smart as she is. So move. Because if you don’t she might actually switch to the swears. 

Step 6: The parade begins! Did I mention way back in step 1 to pack some blankets. Oops, but in my defense I thought it felt a lot warmer at home. It’s not. The kids are crawling into your lap while you try to film the parade for your grandparents and online friends, complaining of cold, wind, life, hunger, anything they can possibly whine about rather than watch the actual parade. 

Me: Sit up. Watch the parade. 

Kids: We’re bored. 

Me: Why?!? Here comes the band. 

Kids: They don’t have any candy. 

I give up on parenting. 

Step 7: Bring some kind of back-up to your cell phone. So, you are trying to be a good grand daughter and film the parade but of course your phone is a bing bonging and dying and bleeping and blooping and some of those hicks in your small town keep walking in front of you because since you are not shouldering a 10,000 pound VHS camcorder they are completely unaware that you are recording and when the person in their group with teeth notices you are filming they lean all over in your face mystified at how that contraption works. Long story short, just bring a camcorder.

Step 8: Back to mom. My cell phone battery died so I sadly did not get this on tape. About .2 seconds AFTER my phone gave me the hell no came the classic cars and my mom in RARE form. Here’s a snippet of the conversation (well, monologue really)

Mom: That’s not a mustang, I don’t know why Ford even allowed that car to be made. Will, do you see that? THAT is not a car. Now THAT, that’s a chevelle. THAT’s a car. I almost wrecked one of those drag racing on the boulevard. Yeah, woo hoo (yelling at drivers) THAT’s an engine, rev that up!!! No, keep driving, no one cares about that car, it shouldn’t be in the parade, (back to the drivers) that’s right I LOVE IT!! WHOO HOOO. They don’t make cars like that anymore. THAT’s a car, not that stupid mess they drive now, just LOOK at that. Brianne? Did your camera die? You have GOT to be filming this for your sister. 

Did I mention my mom is AWESOME?

Step 9: Get OUT of there. No really, you vaguely remember from the scout meeting where they discussed this (you were only half listening because your troop decided to skip this year) that they are like 115 floats and you’ve been sitting on a cold curb for over an hour, the kids are whining, you have forgotten your wallet and even though you are sitting on the curb in FRONT of the coffee shop you can’t buy a damn thing and THERE is Santa, yes kids, get up, these city folks who came to town to watch do not know that Santa is code for leave.  Run. If we make it to the car we might beat the train.

Step 10: End of the World beer.  Noticed I forgot the countdown, didn’t you? I didn’t it just got it’s own step. We have 32 days. Shock Top is now making End of the World Beer. Party City is carrying End of the World Decor. They know. They all know. 

Drink up now while you still can...

How to Run a Half Marathon

How to Run a Half Marathon

Subtitle: You don’t have to look very far for him here. He’s is step one. As he should be. 

39 days left but I am not worried. I can use a sword AND outrun the fudgers. Bring on the zombies. 

Step 1: Change your stars. Turn 30, fall to pieces, get addicted to a Sci-Fi TV show you over looked in college and grad school because you were taking a silly amount of credit hours each semester and fall in love with a fictional character not because he is hot, although you realize about season five as they are killing him off that he is like Apollo/Adonis hot - how did I MISS THAT, but because he never gives up. Thank you Daniel, for everything. 

Step 2: Pick a race. Ok, so I bitch about Virginia and threaten to move to Canada, Spain, Miami and Mexico, but in reality I have a passionate love affair with Richmond. I have to say that having done a few races here now, this is the FRIENDLIEST place to run on the planet, maybe even the universe. (Not that I have gated anywhere to know yet... :p) So, yes, I’m probably not going anywhere, so you might as well come here. I’ll meet you at the party stop. 

Step 3: Commit in ink. Sure, the damn race costs $75-$100 and you would THINK that is enough, but really, if you freak out enough you can back out of anything and convince yourself that the costs can be made up by not eating out a few nights or something. You need something a bit more, well, permanent. I suggest a tattoo. Because nothing says commitment like ink that will never go away. Oh, and if you were wondering, I went with a runner on my left outside ankle. Not a mustache and goatee.... (I’m STILL not over that comment LOL). 

Step 4: Start training. No jokes here, I went to marathonrookie.com and printed a race plan that matched the number of weeks I had to commit to this. That’s IT.  Nothing against those who chose to pay $200+ for the training teams, but like Greek Life in college, I don’t pay for stuff I can get for free. Sorry. 

Step 5: Get encouragement, because let’s face it, you’re like the only person you know doing this and there is no one to run with you. Enlist EVERY human being you can. Recruit your twitter army to send Daniel Jackson pictures to you every time you go on a long run. Recruit your Facebook friends to post wall messages throughout the entire process. Have your spouse run your put crew to bring you water and flashlights when the sun goes down as you are 5/6 of the way through your double digit Saturday runs. Get people to write well wishes on your virtual wall, send you messages that you will carry in your bottle. Get your students and family to sign your technical shirt.  Mail your last race shirt to LONDON so your friend can tell Michael Shanks what you are doing so he can sign the shirt, give you a message and take the time to give a shit which makes you cry. You need each and everyone one of these people. TRUST ME. Because this is NOT EASY.

Step 6: Have the most AWESOME in-laws in the FRAKKIN’ world. In-laws that get you a hotel room at the Jefferson, the POSHEST hotel in Richmond (I LOVE YOU MARY) and then have same said awesome in-laws take you to the Tobacco Company for the Race Day special (which I kid you NOT was the biggest piece of Chicken Parm I have EVER seen in my ENTIRE life). You need this too, you need a good place to sleep close to the start and a full tummy. Rest well. Tomorrow is a big day. 

Step 7: Wake up early. Get dressed, attach your number, listen to Hot Roommate chew out room service because your protein shake is late, hug Adorable Nerd and Fashionista in Training, race downstairs, take coffee from the AWESOME hotel staff who have it ready and waiting for anyone with a race number and walk a mile to the starting line.  Meet up with other runners, chat it up, calm your nerves, tweet like there is no tomorrow.  Oh my Athena we’re moving. Headphones it. Marathon playlist on. Starting Tweet prepped. Imma make you my bitch. 

Step 8: Run like the wind. Holy cow this is soo cool! Like the 10K was cool but this is the SHIT. Notice everything because, since we are in Richmond after all, there be crazy mess. First, I’d like someone to explains the tutus to me because I have run like 8 races in the past year and every time someone is wearing tutu and I am so confused. Note that your former Grad School (Go University of Richmond SPIDERS!) now has a Quidditch team (because of course there was no cool shit like that when I was there). Stop at every water station, you get more thirsty than you would imagine. Slap EVERY child’s hand you pass, EVERY, because it is 8 am and they are up in coats outside to cheer you on. Oh, and DON’T take the gel at mile 8. That is NASTY, like super nasty. Like, I wish I could puke that up nasty but I have to keep running. Instead, wait till you get to VCU frat row. Like the 10K they are giving out beer and people are REALLY taking it! TAKE THE BEER!!! YES, I KNOW it is only step 8, but TAKE THE BEER. 

Step 9: Push through the pain. About mile 11 all of a sudden your left buttock decides that it no longer wants to be part of your body no matter the amount of negotiating that you’re doing with it. Seriously ass?! My KNEES are what the doctors have been worrying about and today YOU decide to give me problems. Tweet for help, help will come and keep pushing. Keep pushing. Keep pushing. JUST KEEP PUSHING.

Step 10: There it is and it’s okay to cry. The music around you is finally louder than the music in your headphones, there is a big banner at the end of the hill and there’s your family and you’re tweeting the finish and everyone is telling you to run like hell and as if your friends are psychic text messages start flying in; the announcer is calling that you’ve made it, you’ve finished, run, run, run and cry. Fall into Hot Roommate’s arms (not mine though) and cry. Because you changed your stars. Thank you Daniel Jackson. Thank you Michael Shanks. Thank you Jack(Hot Roommate). Thank you Mom. Thank you kiddos. Thank you to my friends. Thank you to my students. Thank you everyone. YOU have made this possible. YOU helped me conquer it all. 

Forget the wine. I am going to get UV Chocolate Cake Vodka. 

Bottom’s up! 

How to Host a Girl Scout Olympics

How to Host a Girl Scout Olympics

Subtitle: My cell phone alerts just texted me that we should bring in the plants this weekend. This chica not be camping. Thanks. 

43 days left. I probably should be reconsidering this camping because post zombies I am afraid that I’m going to be doing a LOT of camping...

Step 1: Find a location. Believe it or not there are lots of scout camps spread all across the area and provided you follow certain guidelines you can use just about any of them. Some have cabins, some are for tents, some have lakes, some have amphitheaters, some have pools, some have showers. There are too many choices!! What me? You're asking me? *Whispers to co-leader who is awesome and has been doing this for years* “Which one is the closest to Starbucks?” “Campground X” *Picks up head to confidently address service unit leader*  “I vote that one!” 

Step 2: Pick a date. Now this is the hardest part actually since all eight years olds have a social and athletic schedule to rival Michael Shanks’ work schedule (only took to step two to get to him today woo hoo) you will have to pull out your calendars for the next two years, lay them out on the tables at the meeting hall, cross reference them with softball schedules, school holidays, church socials, the opening of hunting season, color code it, number it, chant yoga mantras over it to pick a date. In November. What the hell. 

Step 3: It’s cold. I’m not kidding I can't run today without seriously considering shifting my fandom from Stargate/Daniel Jackson love to Pitbull simply as an excuse to run away to Miami and bag me a Cuban rapper. Because it is warm there. And Pitbull can dance. Stop Bri, stop fan girl cheating on Shanks. 

Step 4: Arrange games. Now, you COULD just play a few traditional games, duck duck goose, run a few track and field events like I did, have jump rope contests. You can also sing Girl Scouts songs from the more traditional one like “Taps” and “Make New Friends” to new ones like, and I'm not even kidding here, “Jig-a-low.” I’m gonna give you a moment to digest that. Yep, I had the same reaction, so much so that our service unit leader saw from jaw drop from fifty yards away. Shut up. I do not have a guttermind. At least not at scouts. 

Step 5: No, like I'm deadly serious, it is COLD. Go ahead, let the kiddos take a break because the sun is shining and I'm going to lay in it. Aww sunshine, totally making up for the fact that it is November and I have to be outside all day instead of warm and toasty at home writing fan fic or hanging out with people or antiquing and shopping with Fashionista - In - Training but the vitamin D is starting to make up for it...wait, where did the sun go?? Uf! What?! And now I am covered in girl scouts. Deep breaths Bri, deep breaths....

Step 6: Get to know your leaders. Seriously, I was WRONG about these people. Past experience has taught me that most of the moms I encounter are straight as an arrow, church going, baking, View watching housewives so I assumed scouts was the same.  Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Because the conversation I walked into Saturday was the difference tongue rings can make when the man has them in a relationship versus the woman. FOR REAL! These bitches be MY kind of people! 

Step 7: I'm not kidding here. We are at about T-minus to flip out. I'm wearing my Brownie sweatshirt. And my Stargate coat (sans Daniel unfortunately - oh could he EVER warm me up). And my co-leader's coat. And she is making me soup. And hot coffee. Which I am drinking black. No one cream. No two sugars. (Yeah, yeah I say “I have no idea like Daniel, I drink coffee like Daniel and yes this entry is full of Daniel because I am FREEZING AND HE MAKES ME FEEL BETTER). I need to go home, because Daniel can't stay...

Step 8: SHIT!! My phone!!! Because nothing says field day like jumping up and down to keep yourself warm for your iPhone to coming flying out of your pants, dammit I KNEW I should have bought the next smaller size when I lost those last ten pounds, coast through the air in slow motion to land crashing on the concrete floor in the picnic area. OOOOH FUUUUUDGE (gotta get in X-mas references now, world ending before it an all). 

Step 9: Remember that warning I gave you guys about camping. It’s about to happen, right now. My phone is cracked. No, shattered, my phone is shattered. I can’t feel my toes. My nose is a different color. I'm starting to see the children as small trolls that need to be exterminated....wait....march?? To the flag!?!?! I’m moving. 

Step 10: Yeah, no, I’m NOT camping, do you SEE me right now. Let’s go get dinner. I’m thinking Mexican. They have good beer. Because my phone is useless, I have lost feeling in my left leg and right now I cannot stop laughing about the Gigalo song. Oh, and there’s a saw in my scout bag. Legit. Bring on the booze. 

Ok, ok, so it was a lot of fun and I got a patch. Yes, I am grown and got a patch. It’s the little things in life... 

How to Win an Election

How to Win an Election

Subtitle: Obama/Romney you fellas listening?? There’s only a day left. 

46 days left. Did you guys SEE The Walking Dead last night? That's some perspective...

Step 1: Get your party’s nomination. There are a few ways to do this but it boils down to being a rich dude with a big mouth. Personally, I would just take to YouTube and Twitter and see how it goes. Hell, this blog isn’t even six months old and has thousands  of hits and I don’t even promote it other than Twitter and FaceBook, so OBVIOUSLY that is working. Oh, and guess what?  They’re free!!! So you can donate that money you are wasting wooing assholes on real issues, like curing cancer or fixing the economy. You know, shit that matters...

Step 2: Know the Constitution. BACK AND FRONT. Since I’m directing this at the presidential candidates, although the same rules apply in the most basic sense to local officials, Article Two is the section you need to know.  It’s quite simple, each and every time your opponent accuses you of something asshatted (like taking away guns or birth control pills) you can read out loud the powers given to a president and then refer voters to the congressional elections, because those bitches are slinking in all quiet and doing the real damage. 

Step 3: Let’s also stop talking about your humble beginnings. This is not 1950 and you did not start you life working in a sweatshop 14 hours at day at age ten. You didn’t and in this age of the internet we can all look it up and see that you didn’t. And, to top, since I’m speaking of American elections, life here isn’t easy, so there’s nothing that you can say that’s going to make me feel sorry for you because chances are I lived it, my neighbor lived it and because of CONGRESS my kids are gonna live it even harder. This does not make you relate to me, because rich or poor a good smart person is a good smart person regardless of income. 

Step 4:  Take five minutes to meet with a high school debate coach before your next debate because what YOU guys are doing on TV is not a debate, it’s a Jerry Springer episode with people using big words that they really do not know how to use. Once, just once, I want one of you guys to look into the camera and in true Lincoln/Douglass style rip your opponent apart for not answered the question they were just asked. Like THIS: http://debatepedia.idebate.org/en/index.php/Standards:Lincoln-Douglas_Debate .  Hell, I can coach you. I used to do that too. 

Step 5: Stop the ads on TV. There is nothing more annoying than watching Rick Grimes get his zombie whacking on to immediately change to a bunch of fake housewives discussing the state of the economy like popping out kids suddenly makes them experts on economics. People with PhD’s in economics can’t even figure this mess out, what in the hell makes you think I’m gonna to believe June Clever?? And you just broke up my zombie groove, so now I am pissed at you. TV Ad fail.

Step 6: And speaking of TV, stop going on late night talk shows. No one thinks you’re cool and to be honest the people in this country don’t want cool because if we did we would vote for Conan O’Brien not YOU because you are on his show. We want someone competent, not leaning crazy radical one way or another, who can stand in front of the UN and make those people forget that your citizens find Honey Boo Boo to be entertainment. Period. Just Stop Trying. 

Step 7: Stop sending out mailers. Stop. Stop. This is insane.  Instead go on TV, live TV, like host a flash mob or something. Stand on a podium and say “Hi, my name is so-and-so. You know my opponent? He keeps sending you annoying shit in the mail that’s wasteful, kills tress etc. It cost him/her $_____. I’m not going to send mailers. Instead, I’m going to feed the homeless.” Because guess what, if you did that, I’d vote for you. HANDS DOWN.

Step 8: Stop robo-calling me, all freaking day long, using up my cell phone minutes, interrupting my dinners. STOP. Because every time one of your people calls me and asks me who I’m voting for, I’m giving you the exact opposite of what you want to hear just to fuck with your numbers. Think I’m the only one? Nope, most nerds are. Remember, when we get drunk we change WIkipedia...

Step 9: Go and actually meet the people. Yes, I understand the need for security and having visits planned, but anyone with a half of a brain knows that those rallies are so staged it’s just sad. I want you to get in a car, drive your damn self to my neighborhood, walk up to my door and shake my hand like I matter, because I do. Without me sir, you wouldn’t have a job because the rich people need average folks like me to buy their shit and make them rich. They seem to have forgotten that. You need not to. 

Step 10: Yeah, I know, the election is tomorrow and as you have scanned this list you are thinking, shit, I did all of that. All of that. Oh well,  too late now. So just sit back, grab a bottle of Spanish wine and wait for the results because I’m pretty much thinking that me and mine are moving to Canada. Because they have free health care. Nice people. Do NOT watch Honey Boo Boo. And they have Michael Shanks, and to be honest, that should be reason enough. 

How to Celebrate Halloween

How to Celebrate Halloween

Subtitle: I suggest a baby in a pumpkin sleeper. Cute as hell. 

50 days. We’ll get to that later. 

Step 1: Decorate.  Now, I know that there are no guidelines a la Chevy Chase as to how to decorate, so we can be pretty liberal here. We have some cute things, but they’re pretty simple, but we live in the country and only our friends really get to see it. However, were I to live in a neighborhood I would strive to scare the living hell out of every child within a five mile radius for the entire month. Just making this clear for when I can convince Hot Roommate to move me out of the boondocks and back to civilization. 

Step 2: The Pumpkin Patch. I think I covered most of this last week, but just in case you missed that entry, here’s a summary in a nut shell.

1. Bitches think it’s Miss America
2. Lines are long and lead to no where
3. Bugs like pumpkins

That pretty much does it I think. 

Step 3: Dance the Thriller. No, for real, now that I CAN dance the Thriller I feel that everyone should be required to watch the video and learn the dance.  Forget the fact that the song is good, but the dance is cool a hell! And with all of the bad press out there concerning zombies and their mobility issues, I think that to learn the Thriller would be a positive step in the direction of promoting Zombie equality. After all, in 50 days this planet’s gonna be theirs anyway. 

Step 4: Haunted Houses/Trails/Etc. These are a must do for Halloween and I as write this step I’m realizing that this should have probably gotten an entry all of it’s own but we’re going to need to be moving on to elections and turkeys so I’m just gonna have to deal. So here are just some general tips instead:

1. Do not take your kid sister to a haunted hayride. She is evil and once she hears from a friend that you should never tell the creepy guys leading the wagon your name guess what she is going to do??? Give the guy YOUR name!!! So then, once the ride starts EVERY FRAKKIN monster in the damn thing leaps onto the wagon and is in YOUR face asking “Bri are you scared yet??” and you CANNOT Black Belt them.  Don’t take her. 
2. But, you can’t take friends from high school either because they either SHOVE you to the front while THEY walk behind as everything jumps out at YOU OR they rush ahead leaving you with two elementary aged boys who are pulling you INTO THE FLOOR as the scary zombie looking thing jumps out of a bathroom stall at you, which courtesy of Stephen King and Tim Curry is the most HORRIFYING experience that you can imagine. And you STILL CANNOT Black Belt them. Don’t take him either. 
3. And friends from work? Don’t take them either. They will tell you that there are NO CLOWNS, assure you, tell you repeatedly and then halfway through the trail you come upon a house, full of clowns with CHAINSAWS. That you CANNOT Black Belt. Nope, co-workers out. 
4. Hot Roommate won’t go. Scratch that. 
5. I have yet to kidnap Michael Shanks. No luck there either. 
6. Honestly, it’s best we just don’t go 

Step 5: Pick a costume. Ok, everyone does French maid, Vampire, Zombie, BLEH - so cliche (unless you can do cool crap like zippers on your face in which case, carry on). Pick something ORIGINAL, a TV show, a Movie, something sarcastic (One of my co-workers took a little black dress and safety pinned 50 different “shades of grey” onto the dress - see - clever). However, pick something your kids don’t have to explain, even if your photo is so frakkin cool that you’re gonna make it your Christmas Card (Don’t believe me? Check your mailbox). Because nothing says confusion like when your seven year old has to explain what his costume is, and he knows, because he watches the show, and the person answering the door gives you that look that says “Wait until you leave, I am calling child services.” 

Step 6: Survive the last days. You people think I’m kidding, but when all of you are showing up in Beaverdam at my front door we’re gonna see who’s laughing. (There will be a supply list of things you’ll need to bring before you’re allowed entry - stay tuned). Now, this year Hurricane Sandy almost rained, literally, on our parade and poor New York and New Jersey really got hit and I feel so awful for them, but Richmond? Well, they hyped us and hyped us and gas stations ran out of gas, grocery stores ran out of food, there were accidents, traffic, insanity, schools closed, I actually bought Twinkies!! And nothing. Last Days Fail. 

Step 7: Pick your neighborhood. Now I’ve always lived in the country, so when we were kids we would drive into town to the rich neighborhood because they would give out whole candy bars. However, as time passed, they got wise to us and started putting these codes on their doors and such that us poor dumb country folk didn’t understand. So we tried the railroad tracks in Ashland and yeah, that was a cattle call nightmare. Don’t do that. Try your kind friends that just had a baby and convince them they need to take her our for her first Halloween. Then trick or treat THIER neighborhood.  Genius! 

Step 8: Trick or Treat. It’s not dark yet. It’s not dark yet. Uh, we’re leaving, because it’s dark, turn off the TV. Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run.  See why I said not to run.  Say thank you. In English. Don’t run. Put your coat on. Sweetie, these people do not know who Carl is, the coat does not matter. Put the coat on. Are you coming? What are you doing? Stop eating the Candy!!! Do not throw that wrapper on the street!!! How far are we from the car honey?

Step 9: Dinner. Because somehow the past six hours have evaporated like three shots of a Zat gun (I HAD to find a way to fit Daniel Jackson in here twice :P ) you have accidentally forgotten to feed your children. Frantically go to Wendy’s to see that every other parent in central Virginia is having the same idea about the same Wendy’s. No honey, we’re not going in there because you heard they’re giving away free Frosties on the radio that is a mad house. Wait! Stop!! Turn left! Little Caesars!! They have $5 pizza and no one is there! And then proceed to pass pizza boxes around the car. With sodas. Because all thoughts of health at this point should just be out the window. 

Step 10: DRINK. But not Spanish wine because it is Wednesday and you have to work, kids go to bed, the kids have to go to school, yes you go to bed, you have to pay bills, I am not kidding go to bed, write this blog, go to bed I am trying to do this writing shit to send YOUR asses to college, clean things up, why are you not in bed!?!? Scratch coke, where’s my wine?