Sunday, November 20, 2011

can you buy me some Nair while you're out?

Sarah: I have to have this. It's awesome.
Mark: You ARE grocery shopping right?
Sarah: Yes, it's amazing.
Mark: Is Darth Vadar shopping for turnips?
Sarah: This is undoubtably cooler than that. Much cooler.
Mark: Fine. Tell me. What could possibly be cooler than Darth Vadar pondering produce?
Sarah: I'm not certain I follow the train of thought that makes that cool. But I can't tell you. I have to show you. Give me a second, I'll send a picture.

....moments pass as the intrawebs whirl and deliver the below photo to England....

Mark: What the?
Sarah: Isn't it awesome? Isn't it the epitome of cool? I must have this.
Mark: That's a funny turkey.
Sarah: It's a CAKE. A Turkey Cake!!! It's a Thanksgiving cake shaped to look like a...
Mark: OH MY GOD! A Turcake. We must own it. Can we have it for Thanksgiving? I will give thanks to it.
Sarah: It's brilliant. You can go into the store for turkey. Pick up a cake. Leave happy. Win win.
Mark: You're buying this right?
Sarah: Demetrius will kill me.
(*For those who don't know, Demetrius is one of my best friends, my personal trainer, AND at this point, dieting for the Olympia).
Mark: Maybe you could buy it for him. A present. He couldn't be angry then.
Sarah: Hmmm. It could work. A "happy almost Olympia" Turcake. Who wouldn't want one? He couldn't be upset.
Mark: Unless he's already upset.
Sarah: Shit. He IS already upset. Umm.... I can't buy this. I'm leaving. Turcake-less.

(Sarah leaves store)
Sarah: What the? Demetrius just sent a text reading, "Can you buy me some Nair while you're out"
Mark: What is Nair?
Sarah: I'm not certain telling you will help. It will just lead to more questions. Besides, I support the "no more waxing" stance so I can't complain.
Mark: You're not actually going back are you? If so get the Turcake.
Sarah: I am. But I can't get the Turcake. He will be angry. I already got chips. He's going to give me "the look."

(Sarah buys Nair and actually leaves)
Mark: I still think you should bring him the cake. It needs to be purchased. Look, if he's in a bad mood when you get there, I command you to return to the store.
Sarah: I can do this. He's already annoyed, so I'll ask him if he's angry. When he says yes, I head back, I buy the Turcake, I bring it to him. He's happy. It's brilliant. Nothing can go wrong.
Mark: Yes. This is brilliant. The Turcake will be ours. His. But in our house. So technically ours.

(Sarah enters house)
Sarah: D. You in a bad mood?
Demetrius: I'm doing alright.
Mark: (on phone) WHAT? You said he was pissed!
Sarah: (to Mark) HE WAS! I swear.
Mark: You deceived me to not buy the Turcake. You are anti Turcake. Why do you hate the Turcake?
Sarah: D, I thought you were upset.
Demetrius: Nope, I'm over it. Not worth it.
Sarah: This isn't what I wanted. Now I have no Turcake prospect.
Demetrius: Did you get the Nair?
Mark: I can't believe you lied to me.
Sarah: I can't speak to you right now.

NEXT MORNING
I am standing in the shower. Holding a half empty bottle of Nair in my hand. I am instinctively filled with the desire to use this Nair. To burn (or melt, I'm not sure exactly how that stuff works) all the hairs off my body. I open the bottle and the shower is filled with a foul eye watering smell. Which leads me to the conclusion, clearly, I should have just gotten the Turcake.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

how to lose your tools AND your iTunes

At this exact moment I'm riffling through my iTunes library looking to compose a single playlist out of the over 8,000 songs available. It's massively time consuming. It's unfortunately necessary.
Additionally, it's giving me the distinct feeling that I'm old. At what point did my Michael Buble collection surpass my Nirvana and Pink Floyd collections? Can I really put Madonna's Material Girl  right after Plan B's She Said? Is that sort of musical marriage acceptable?
While I've always been accused of only creating playlists when drunk, this situation is complicated due to the fact that my iTunes is essentially blank. I have no Recently Added tunes, no Top 25, no Recently Played, etc. And not a SINGLE PLAYLIST! It's just me, a library (and a man on my back, but I haven't seen Barbados, so I must get out of this) [extra points for anyone who knows that reference, and yeah, that's part of the trauma as well]

And this is the point where the post turns slightly bitter, so my apologies now for any who dare to keep reading.
See kids, what they don't tell you about living with someone is that you'll probably end up merging lots of seemingly innocent things, like your iTunes accounts. And that sounds like a great idea, because it'll likely double your library right? Loads of cool free music right?
WRONG!
Let me just tell you, some people get a prenuptial to account for the "what if it all goes wrong" aspect. But here are a few of the things that will inevitably fuck you and you don't even know it yet!


  • iTunes, iPhoto, and all the other iProducts out there. 

This is because the system works off a user account. If two people are using the same computer, then there's really only one copy of iTunes, etc installed. And while you can log out and back in as a different user with different libraries- well, that's just a pain in the ass. I think to change the iPhoto library you need to hold down the Cmd key and the letter P, and possibly the Dashboard key that resides on F4 at the same time. Something like that. It's complicated. And annoying to remember.
So you have a single account on the main computer and it's cool and happy. Then your ex becomes your ex and splits. (I'm working off the scenario that you get to keep the computer). Ok, all is well for a little bit. But then your ex realizes that you're still buying songs or movies or whatever and that they're paying for it. Or vice versa, they buy a bunch of stuff and it ends up on your credit card. So one of you gets annoyed, and changes the password to "their" account. Next thing you know, Apple updates their software or releases a new iPhone. Your computer tricks you into updating the software and then, on the reboot, asks you for the password to login.
You get it wrong. Half the songs purchased on your computer through that account, maybe even BY YOU, are suddenly unavailable. In fact, if I get this notice one more time, I'm giving up and will live exclusively on Genius mixes.

Screw dealing with the finances. The finances are a big deal and likely something you'll fight over regardless. But the iTunes account? The mobile me account? Not likely to occur to someone in the depths of a big breakup.


  • Tools
Most girls out there don't have a lot of tools, and I realize I'm the exception to this. However, I bet most have some. They've got screwdrivers, hammers, basic tools kits that are indispensable to any modern woman who considers herself capable of hanging that picture by herself, tightening the loose handle on the dresser, etc. We've got the basics, because one Christmas years ago our father (or some other male) handed us a weighty box to unwrap and we were disappointed to discover it contained a basic tool set.

Then you meet a guy, he moves in and he brings with him a large (at least compared to your kit) tool box. After a little bit, your tools gradually begin to be stored in his tool box, because it (of course) makes sense to keep all the tools in the same place. Right?
WRONG AGAIN!
Because if you breakup, that lovely man who is currently rehanging your bathroom door so that it doesn't slowly open of it's own accord? He will pack that tool box in a truck and leave with it. And a month later, after you've cried your eyes out, you'll decide to take the picture of the two of you down, and replace it with an obscenely large, heavy expensive mirror. You'll go for your tools, and discover that you've been stripped of even the most basic tool kit. THAT BELONGED TO YOU. And yes, if you're the sort of girl who actually uses tools, you'll be devastated and pissed when you realize you're also missing a router, drill, orbital sander, chop saw, and every hand tool you've ever owned.

My point here? Much as you're trying to be rational in the depths of a breakup, bear in mind that the big things will inevitably resolve themselves over time and over several hundred heated discussions/fights.
But the things to try to remember, are the little details. Because those are the ones that'll piss you off much later on when there's no more time for negotiations.

As a side note, playlist artists at present play in this order:
Massive Attack
Muse
No Doubt
Cage the Elephant
Gorillaz
Radiohead
Madonna
Plan B
Nine Inch Nails
Me First and the Gimme Gimmes
Metisse
Coldplay
Britney Spears

Maybe this WOULD be easier drunk?

Sunday, November 6, 2011

It's like magic or something

Sarah: We're going to need to get that piano
Mark: What piano?
Sarah: The one from Bite
Mark: The one the naked girls comes out of?
Sarah: They're not naked! They have on thongs.
Mark: Fine, the one the NEAR naked girls come out of?
Sarah: Yes. Of course.
Mark: What possible reason could you have for wanting that piano?
Sarah: It's awesome. You put the girls back in and they come out wearing different colored thongs. Seriously, five girls into a grand piano, and POOF, different colored thongs. It's like magic or something.
Mark: So you want it as what, a parlor trick to pull out when we have guests?
Sarah: YES! Wouldn't you want to have dinner with people who had a piano that magically warps the color of the thongs of naked girls you put in it? Think of what an awesome conversation piece that would be!
Mark: You said they weren't naked.
Sarah: Whatever. We need that piano if we're going to Dallas. I need a conversation starter.

That said, I appear to be moving to Dallas. Or Fort Worth. I can now say this without tearing up. In fact, I was outright giddy about it earlier today, when one of my besties (who lives just south of Fort Worth) texted to tell me she's already planning the welcome party. It also gives me an excuse to get matching cowboy hats for Mark and I. AND a place to wear those red cowboy boots I bought a while back. Hell, I might even learn to make heart attack inducing brisket. Not to mention, I get to don that sanctimonious holier than thou attitude about all things not Texan. Besides, doesn't it just scream amusing to marry a gentlemen from London and then move to Fort Worth? Oh the culture shock!
And no, not selling the house. But hey- anyone interested in renting a 3400 sq. ft. house come February? My goal is to completely finish remodeling my dream home, and then let someone else live it in. (But I'm TAKING the doorbell).
So let me know.
Oh, and I'll be needing help with that piano.