Stuff I Know You're Supposed To Do But, Look Guys, I'm Just Not Gonna
Wear a ribbon to support a cause. "Frig, I know there was something I was supposed to do today. What was it?! [looks down at shirt] Oh yeah! Hate testicular cancer! I knew I was forgetting something."
Canvas door-to-door to support a candidate or proposition. You know what I like to do the second I get home? Immediately strip off all my clothes and sing along to showtunes while eating super-chunky peanut butter out of the jar. You know what I don't like to do? Talk to strangers about my political convictions. I'd imagine most people feel the same way.
Bring in doughnuts for the office. Or any other baked treats, for that matter. Not because I don't love my co-workers (I do) or showing off my pie-baking skills (oh man, I really do), but because I'm petrified that no one would eat them. No way am I going to risk being That Girl who has to carry an untouched plate of Cootie Cookies back home on the subway 'cause no one wanted them.
The Dracula Sneeze. I don't really have an excuse for not doing this one. It's hygienic, it's got a cool name, and the reduced hand contamination is slowly helping erode my fear of lending pens. But dudes who do the Dracula must have some sort of sneeze-related ESP, 'cause I never feel one coming with enough warning to assume the posish. Guess I'm fated to another 24 years of surreptitiously wiping snot off on the legs of my jeans.
Read Ulysses. Hey James Joyce. Eat me.
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14 comments:
lol, I didn't know it was called the Dracula sneeze. That's probably the only thing I do on that list and 50% of the time it goes bad, cuz my arm doesn't swing that fast!!
I'm always amused by the Dracula gone wrong, though? "Who, me? Nah, I just had an unprotected sneeze so good I had to air-punch afterwards. HiiiiiYAH!!"
Ugh. Tried Ullyses. It was wretched. All of James Joyce is wretched.
My Drac sneeze always ends up a little too high, so it's almost like an armpit-sniff sneeze.
Oh, and I couldn't even make it through Portrait of the Artist. Which I'm pretty sure I found a copy of in the trash. That probably should have been a sign.
i have never, ever had a problem with my wretched attempts at baked goods being anything other than devoured at the office. i think it's the principle of free food, amplified by the fact that you're basically captive in the office during work hours. hell, if you're good at baking, they'll be gone in no time.
A paralegal at my office brought raspberry muffins with tons of icing today. I will now go out of my way not to give her any shitty tasks.
My list would include dodging people who lasso all of their (facebook) friends/CO-WORKERS into any "Relay For Life" "be a team captain" type charity events. Seriously, if I just write you a check will you leave me alone? How much money is wasted by putting these events on? Also, charity 5k races....you can keep your free t-shirt, I'll sleep in. Here's another damn check.
Ask people to support me in running a race, etc. Just no. Canvas neighborhoods. Get my pet a FB account.
I'll likely never
1) run a marathon
2) be an astronaut
3) make it through a full debate/state of the union address
4) be anything that involves talking on the phone
5) go to a high school reunion
6) be in a protest again
7) be a "letter to the editor" kind of person
8) be a den mother
9) appreciate poetry, country music, soccer, or minimalist art
10) stop picking my nose in public
11) be able to park a car straight on the first try
12) be able to cook a full-course meal
13) do my laundry more than once a month
14) like babies more than dogs
or
15) learn to play chess.
Ah, well.
Learn how to choose produce. What makes a good carrot? kiwifruit? melon? It baffles me.
Use CFLs. Yep, I'm killing the planet, but by God, when I flick the switch, my lights go on. BEFORE I step into the room and start crashing into shit.
James Joyce can put Virginia Woolf in his juice box and suck on THAT.
:)
Leah, your #11 made my day. That, and learning that it was called a Dracula sneeze. It makes so much sense!
Flossing
Call me dirty, gross, or plaque filled, I don't care. I just can't floss my teeth. I mean, I think about doing it once in a while but to be honest, I probably floss like once every 4 months. It's not that I don't like to do it, it just doesn't happen!
Oh, and I had to read Ulysses during my undergrad. You're not missing anything. Ugh. That was the worst semester of my life. Eff James Joyce and all you other Finnegans Wake lovers.
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