Actual job posting here.
Dear Sir or Madam,
I recently saw your posting on craigslist for a fortune teller. I believe that I would be an asset to your organization as I possess many qualities and talents that you are looking for. Allow me to demonstrate my skills below.
You will need somebody that will know what is going to happen in the future. Sometimes I know what is going to happen in the future. For instance, when Big showed up in the last episode of Sex and the City, I knew Carrie was going to pick him. That Russian artist didn’t ignore her as thoroughly as Big did; Carrie needs a guy who is going to treat her like dirt all the time.
I also knew that Carrie Underwood was going to win her season of American Idol. Call it a gift.
Other times, I wish that something will happen, and then it does. Like when Kristen Cavallari became engaged to Jay Cutler. I was feeling a little bitter that she was able to snag a ring in three months and thought to myself that I hoped the relationship would crash and burn. And then it did!! I feel a little guilty about this one. I’m definitely voting for her on Dancing with the Stars.
Lastly, I’m very creative. If my fortune teller muscle is not working, I can make up something that sounds so believable and is so vague, it has to come true! “A moment in your past is going to become an important part of reaching a goal in the next few months.”
See? Also, I wear lots of black and will be happy to get a killer manicure. (Nails gotta look good when you are waving them around a crystal ball.)
I look forward to hearing from you.
PS – Are you supplying the gold hoop earrings, or am I?
I’ve been a little busy this week getting ready for my very first fantasy football draft and haven’t been writing very many stories.
“You have been spending that much time getting ready for fantasy football?”
Oh yes. The crew I roll with takes this shiz very seriously. I need to come prepared.
Plus I effed up registering three times, so I feel the need to prove that I’m really not an idiot.
Wish me luck! I’ll be back tomorrow night with all the juicy details, and a great first date story that’s not to be missed.
Stay safe east coast!
After my trip to the fair, I just couldn’t get enough small town life. To satisfy my next fix, my grandfather, sister, niece and I attended a parade in Tioga Pa. (For my non-local friends, I’m pretty sure about 212 people live in Tioga. They have no traffic lights, 1 gas station, 1 grocery store and some grass.)
We were told the parade was to begin at 6:00. The parade route was approximately 2/3 of a mile long, so I didn’t expect to be there past 6:15. Naturally we heard the first beats of the marching band at 6:35. They don’t really rush around these parts.
The highlights of the parade included:
- The floats/fire trucks/tractors/bands all came along approximately 5 minutes apart. This created a parade that lasted close to 90 minutes. The parade had 4 floats and 21 tractors.
- Those throwing candy chose to throw overhand. Also, there must be a surplus of tootsie rolls in Tioga because that’s the only kind of candy that seemed to be thrown. Maybe I should be glad. Jolly Ranchers coming at you at that speed could do some real damage.
- There was a group of adults behind us drinking a mystery beverage out of red plastic cups. That mystery beverage smelled a lot like that guy that harassed my friend and I at Dunkin’ Donuts. I had the urge to rack up the cups and start throwing ping pong balls.
- One of the four floats had somebody dressed as a giant beaver. [Insert your own giant beaver joke here.]
I really don’t even know where to begin with this post. An 11 year old in Texas won a contest to be Mayor for the day.
Why? Why would a city hold a contest for a new mayor? Why would an 11 year old win? This sounds like a pretty sleepy town to me.
So now that this town has an 11 year old mayor, she starts making the important decisions. You know, like renaming Main St. to Justin Bieber Way.
Ok, I admit, I think that is kind of funny. When I was 11, I totally would have jumped at the chance to name a street in my hometown Zac Hanson Ave.
Anybody who has ever lived in a small town or been to college should know exactly what is coming next. New ridiculous street sign goes up…somebody steals it. I think everybody knows somebody with a sign or poster that they have stolen. I stole a flyer out of a restaurant bathroom just last night because I knew the person the flyer was advertising. (Looking back, I probably should have left it there so that the flyer could do it’s job and tell people about the event…but it was wing night and I had washed them down with a few bud light limes. Don’t judge me.)
I didn’t take the Bieber sign though. I haven’t been to Texas in weeks.
I didn’t take it…but I would.
If the 11 year old you could rename a street sign…what would you change it to?
Mama Don’t Allow No Sheep’s Drinkin’ Round Here (Pt. II) -or – Why I’ll Never Be A County Fair Princess
If you are just joining in the fun today, be sure to read Pt. I first.
All done? Great. Let’s continue…
As our tour of the fair continued, we came upon the bingo tent. Bingo is my favorite fair activity so I grabbed my sister, brother (in-law) and we all found seats. A man smoking a cigarette and drinking a giant mountain dew came up to collect our money. We were later told that the man was called “Bingo Bob.” Of course he was.
Bingo Bob did not wander through the crowd of bingo players as the game commenced. He just kind of leaned over the table we were playing at and watched. It was a little intimidating. I had 9 bingo squares to attend to and I was just waiting for one of Bob’s sausage fingers to point to a number I had missed. I quickly found out that I didn’t need to worry about missing numbers…Bob had me covered. We were in the midst of a very intense jackpot round when we heard somebody in the front call “Bingo!” Bob quickly sprang into action, cleared the chips off one of my cards and yelled “Bingo! Here too!”
I looked at my sister, puzzled. I didn’t have bingo. Bob had rigged the game! My prize? 2 white plastic chips. I set them to the side and continued to the next game. Good news…won again! This time I had my choice of prizes: 30 minutes of free bingo or 2 coupons. I didn’t know what the coupons were for, but I figured whatever it was, it must be better than 30 minutes of rigged bingo.
Deciding that we should quit while we’re ahead, we cleared off our bingo cards and went to cash in my 2 white chips and 2 coupons. In my head, 2 white chips + 2 coupons = something awesome!!
I got a plastic bird feeder. I have to go buy bird seed today.
This was proving to be a pretty eventful trip so we met up with the rest of the family to rest and listen to music for a few minutes. We were lucky enough to catch the Midlife Cowboys playing “Mama Don’t Allow No Guitar Playing Around Here.” They put on a fun show and that song will now be in my head for 2 months. One of the fair princesses was also enjoying the music. She had on a beautiful dress…and steel toed work boots. It’s a good thing I wasn’t crowned princess, I don’t own any boots.
No trip to the fair is complete without trying to win a goldfish. The game never changes, toss the ping pong ball into the fishbowl and win a fish. 6 balls for $1 or 15 balls for $2. After my awesome showing at bingo I was feeling confident enough to just put $1 down. I lost. I tried to convince the man running the booth that if I gave him another dollar I should be able to get 9 balls instead of 6, since $2 got you 15 balls altogether. He said he didn’t think I understood how it worked. I don’t think he understood that I knew I was cheating the system, but if Bingo Bob was going to let me get away with blatant cheating, I didn’t see why he couldn’t bend the rules just a little. No gold fish for me. It’s just as well. I don’t have a very solid history of taking care of pets.
On our way back to the car my brother spotted a ride that he decided would be fun. I usually have a strict no-ride policy, but hot off the disappointment of not winning a goldfish my judgment was clouded. We got in line for the ride just as the last group of people were getting off. I didn’t really see the ride in action, but so many small children were exiting the ride that I decided it couldn’t be that intense. My brother and I got into one of the cars, pulled the metal bar over our laps for safety and I held on tight. The ride took off and I was pleasantly surprised. We were not that high off of the ground, and were not going very fast, just a leisurely float.
That lasted about 10 seconds.
Quickly, the cars rose up high in the air and the car started creaking. Not a slight creak. A “we’re going to fall off of this ride and break our legs,” creak. I started getting angry with my brother for suggesting the ride. He clearly wanted us to get hurt. Just as I started yelling at him for having this terrible idea the ride started to move up and down! It was too much and I was holding on to the bar so tightly that my knuckles were white. Apparently my arm muscles were pretty tense because even now, 2 days later, I have a hard time lifting them over my head.
Who knew the fair could be so eventful? Did anybody else see anything worth sharing at the fair this week?
This morning I woke up to two aching arms. The dull pain started at the base of my neck, went through my shoulders and rested at my biceps. I haven’t been doing any strength training, so naturally I assumed that I must have heart disease or some degenerative muscle condition.
Scrolling through the list of possibilities on WebMD I started thinking about all the things I wouldn’t be able to enjoy anymore if my muscles all started seizing up like this. Strolling through the mall, chasing after my niece, my days of adventure would be over! And then it hit me. My muscles weren’t sore for any medical reason, unless stupidity counts. My muscles were sore from one, very poor decision that I made yesterday. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?
Yesterday my family decided to take a trip to the Tioga county fair. I was undecided as to whether or not I wanted to go, fairs have never really been my thing, but who am I to pass up a chance to play bingo while drinking a peach milkshake?
When we arrived we were greeted by the typical fair sights and sounds. Rides that look questionably safe at best, multiple food trailers with burgers and French fries, barns filled with animals and baked goods, a dozen game booths with unappealing prizes and a large sign announcing free Wi-Fi. Free Wi-Fi? Are people bringing their netbooks to the fair these days? We can’t wait until we get home to update our Facebook status with our opinion of the demolition derby winners? I’m all about progress in this area but I think this is a classic case of pick your battles. We do not need Wi-Fi at the county fair, or at Pudgie’s, the local pizza place. There is a large banner outside the Pudgie’s in town advertising free Wi-Fi to its patrons. I couldn’t imagine somebody going to Pudgie’s for a solo evening of pizza and blogging. I did see one man enter Pudgie’s with a laptop case last week, so maybe I underestimate the power of free Wi-Fi. Actually, maybe I should have said hello. If I see him again I’ll have to pay attention to what he orders, if he’s a woodchuck fan he might be my soul mate. (Woodchuck the beverage, not woodchuck the animal, it’s sad I have to clarify these things now that I live in Pa.)
After making it through the fair entrance, we went straight for the food. Eating is definitely the highlight of any trip like this. I had a delicious peach milkshake made by a local Christian school group and sampled the food that my family ordered. I would rather have a bite of 8 different things than a burger or slice of pizza of my own, variety being the spice of life and all.
Once we were finished eating, it was time to tour the barn animals. There aren’t a lot of interesting things to report about rows of sheep and bunnies and cows. I did notice two things that were a little off. First was the sign at the entrance announcing that there could be no alcoholic beverages in the stables. Part of me wants to ask what prompted that sign, rational thinking tells me I’m better off not knowing. The next thing that struck me as odd was the giant poster showing all of the meat cuts that come from the various animals you are looking at. I’m far from vegetarian, but looking at a cow and looking at a picture of rib eyes right next to the cow made me a little sad.
Come back tomorrow for the exciting conclusion of my trip to the fair. You will find out why I am a bingo superstar, how not to win a goldfish and I’ll finally reveal what I did to make my arms hurt so badly.