Tag Archives: humor

The Adults In The Room

mrmessy

Mr. Messy

When I was little, I used to watch my mom or dad after dinner, doing adult stuff in the abstract. Mostly tidying up in that tired way adults do when the consequences of not tidying up will catch up to them later. Wiping down counters, straightening magazine piles, folding laundry, getting papers ready for the next day, taking the garbage bins out, checking homework, sorting through mail, feeding the cats. Every evening, someone called on the phone, but it was before Caller I.D., so it was like being surprised by friends or family on the regular, and not like now, where I see someone call and wonder in anguish butwhy. Sometimes, the phone was handed to me and I answered aunt and uncle questions or told stories to curious grandparents.

As I got older and watched this nighttime ritual of the North American adult, I realized there was a rhyme and reason to the seemingly random clean-up. Garbage was dealt with, leftovers packaged, outfits picked for school and work, slight order restored to a house that exploded every 24 hours with life and human progress. Neither of my parents seemed to enjoy doing these menial daily tasks, but when they were done, one or both of them would turn off the kitchen lights and sink into the couch with a satisfied, weary sigh. I would come to know this as The Ceremonial Sigh of Adulting, where your next move is something you actually want to do: read a book, watch TV, talk to a friend on the phone while matching sock mates, have that much-deserved glass of wine before bed. The sigh signaled a surrendering to what would surely be another night without enough sleep, a tiny white flag waving in the flickering light of our television. Then my parents got up the next day and did it again, and again, and again. The same determined, tired tidying up, every night after dinner; the same sigh of release and ready-preparedness for the days to come.

It was all so goddamn boring.

When I was still a single digit, and filled with BIG IDEAS, I decided my parents were foolish to waste all their time on these menial tasks. Clearly they were doing something wrong if they were stuck in this Groundhog’s Day-like nightmare where your life is just doing chores. I decided I would skip doing all that crap and congratulated myself for coming up with a better solution to living life than my mother. Why didn’t my parents just eat McDonald’s for dinner every night and then do whatever the fuck they wanted? They were ungrateful adults who’d traded what power and freedom they had for nighttime vacuuming. I WOULD NOT BE LIKE THEM, I WOULD ENJOY MY FREEDOMS AND NEVER TAKE THEM FOR GRANTED.

Can you imagine? The fucking audacity of children. So new and dumb and precious and totally unqualified for personhood. Somehow, I knew how to do life better than my 39-year old parents after nine long years on this planet — and absolutely thought I had my shit together when I couldn’t do long division or eat soft cheese. Now I’m older than they were when I decided to do things differently, and even though I don’t clean the house every night, I always wish I had. It sucked when I finally got it, finally understood, and could see – stretching out a thousand miles in front of me – all the tidying up and sighing I would do in the months and years to come.

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The Roaring Twenties

girls-season-5-hbo

When I was nine, I couldn’t wait to be in my twenties and all the question marks that entailed. At that point, most of my ideas around being an adult came from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Adventures in Babysitting. People did real-life things in their twenties, like had boyfriends and jobs and cars and stayed up way past 8pm. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, but I knew I wanted to get there fast. Freedom of choice, late nights, making memories, finding trouble; I couldn’t wait for the future adventures of awesome adult me.

In my thirties, I referenced my twenties like they lived next door. I’d start a story with “A few years’ back…” and later realize it had been ten. I had my first real ma’am in my thirties, where a pimply-faced worker bee scanned my face for way too long before deciding I was old enough to be ma’am-ed. I considered slashing his tires to prove how young and dumb I was, but I wasn’t that young and dumb, so I didn’t. I worried about 40 for the first time and I guess being somebody in what was now a shrinking time frame. Girls at parties said, “Oh my god, I didn’t know you were [whatever age], I thought you were [a much younger age]!” It flattered and annoyed me, these plucky young women who thought 38 was ancient and 25 was some kind of prize. I wouldn’t do 25 again, not for a lifetime supply of cheese. Was age even really that important?

In my forties, I started wondering out loud if age was really that important, and was met with mostly silence and eyerolls. I talked about my twenties with part-awe (how am I still alive after so many bad choices?? oh, me!) and part-wistfulness (remember when I could wear heels?) for all the things I thought would happen but never actually did. No older French lovers, no artist retreats, no picking up at a moment’s notice to travel the world and have adventures or explore the countryside, wherever that was. I never did – not once –  ayahuasca in the jungle with Tom Robbins or some other literary giant. None of these things happened because 1) I’m not a blond chick in a movie and 2) I was too busy barely surviving. I was broke and also broken, or at least in the process of breaking, and not for the first time. I bumbled my way through that decade, making lovely people cringe and simple things harder, never knowing what direction to go in. So far, this is what I remember most about my twenties.

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What Is The Evergrey?

grayscale

It’s not this.

-Seattle singles meetup for people over 60

-University of Washington meteorology-psychology blog about weather and depression

-Craft cocktail bar located in the heart of Georgetown and sister to Pioneer Square’s ‘Damn the Weather’

-Seattle’s first built-green community and bold new approach to apartment micro-living in partnership with Amazon’s real estate arm, Amazoned

-Seattle’s on-the-rise gothic metal band singing everyone’s favorite hits from the Nineties and beyond

-A new CW series following the Tech Rich Kids of Instagram — featuring the extravagant lifestyles of the Evergrey twins, who will stop at nothing in their rise to the top

-Favorite ice cream flavor of The Queen of England: two-parts Earl Grey tea, one-part orange blossom, one-part vanilla bean

-Subreddit group dedicated to The Nothing in a Netflix original documentary about fanatics of The Neverending Story

-Popular Instagram account for people rocking grey hair at any age

-A fictional disease on Game of Thrones

-A comprehensive daily Seattle newsletter written by two kickass women about staying connected to a city that’s currently on steroids

If you guessed the last one, you’re correct; if you guessed any of the others, how will you look at yourself in the mirror from this day forward?

To anyone coming from The Evergrey today, or perhaps my Facebook announcement, I shout hello through this series of complicated tubes *shakes fist at Al Gore* and look forward to shouting in person.

I’m excited to be facilitating The Everygrey’s newly-announced writing group, beginning January 2017. The application deadline is December 31, 2016 — my wedding anniversary, in fact, where we will be out and about having legendary adventures in every corner of Seattle*.

*or: pizza, pajamas, a Westworld marathon, sawing logs the size of Ents before midnight

For those who came here wondering what my deal is before applying, take the leap! What do you have to lose besides four limbs, a car, and part of your Roth IRA? At the very least, connections will be made and you’ll get some time to workshop your writing. At best, we’ll create a nude writing group calendar for charity and Ellen will invite us on her show and we’ll get famous for like four minutes and then you know she’ll give someone a car (pleasebeme). Ellen’s always trying to out-Oprah herself. I’d like to be there when she finally succeeds.

My leadership qualifications include: I read the first two chapters of Infinite Jest and know all the words to Beyonce’s ‘Lemonade’. A strong voice. An open mind. Dated a guy who ran for high school president and won.

As for the structure of our writing group, I’m thinking something like The Voice in that it’s exactly like The Voice. Adam Levine, Christina Aguilera, Country Guy, and I will sit in our rotating plastic Tron chairs and judge you. Finally, a job that plays to my strengths.

I look forward to working with a great group of people, whatever circus parade we decide on! Let’s stay in touch like we met five weeks ago at miniature horse camp:

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | what’s a newspaper

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If Honeyfunds Were Realistic

happy_couple

Sometimes life has other plans

Dining

(1) $200 for their first anniversary at a very special restaurant

(1) $100 for their second anniversary at a pretty nice restaurant

(1) $50 for a romantic anniversary dinner cooked at home

(6) $30 gift certificates to that pizza place in their neighborhood he doesn’t love “but at least they deliver” for the next six anniversaries

(1) $7.67 – Lactaid Fast Act Chewables (her)

(1) $6.79 – Beano (him)

Beverages

(1) $250 bottle of Champagne to celebrate their 20th anniversary

(12) $50 vouchers for Monthly Beer Club so he can have some much-needed Dude Time

(1,000) $30 vouchers for Taco Tuesday Happy Hour with the $4 margaritas

Accommodations

(30) $150 overnights at a local hotel in his hometown every Christmas after staying with his parents one year and realizing how much Fox News they really watch

Sightseeing Tours

(1) $130 for five Ride the Ducks tickets and (1) $150 gift card to Red Lobster for when his brother, wife, and three awful kids drop by unannounced for a five-day visit and she just wants them out of her goddamn house

(3) $100 wine-tasting tours for the only child-free weekends she will have with her girlfriends in her entire lifetime

(1) $100 in singles for the stripper-friendly bachelor party weekend they have a huge fight about that he goes to anyway*

*plus $50 so he can send flowers for the bachelor party fight even though he spent most of those singles on beer, Scout’s honor

Shopping

(Unlimited) $20 bottles of wine – or $200/case – for when she realizes she deserves more in life but will settle for alcohol

(1) $3,000 for the shoe addiction she said she had under control

(2) $500 for a suit he will wear to every wedding and funeral they attend until he gains 40 pounds in 10 years and she makes him get another one

(Unlimited) $50 XBox games and expansion packs to be played at 3AM in his man cave

(1) $100 trip to the sex toy store when she thinks they need to spice up their sex life

Airfare*

(2) Out-of-state tickets for a family emergency

(2) Spontaneous babymoon tickets to somewhere tropical after realizing they’re actually having a baby and may never have fun again

(1) Ticket to the Pacific Coast Trail after she watches the Gilmore Girls revival and sees Lorelei’s attempt at Cheryl Strayed’s Wild

*Inquire with administrator for pricing

Marriage Extensions

(1) One year of marriage counseling (Market Price but you will also be an integral part of the therapist vetting process)

(1) $545 Day of Beauty Spa Apology Package for when he forgets her 33rd birthday

(1) $600 Las Vegas Stay and Play Hotel & Golf Consolation Package for when she yells the hot neighbor’s name during sex

(2) $1,000 for surprise weekends away when they realize they’re just roommates with children and need to reconnect

Miscellaneous

(1) $10/month for a Netflix unlimited screening membership, which they will use for date nights, movie nights, avoiding each other, battling insomnia, battling depression, distracting the children, entertaining friends, and escapism from the life they chose and love, most of the time

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A History of Cake

shakespeare

The first mention of cake appears in a Shakespearean sonnet in 1592.

Shall I compare thee to a summer cake?

Thou art more lovely and more decadent.

In 1755, the Earl of Earlingstone-Hamshire-Winthropp (nicknamed “The Earl of Earl,” for obvious reasons), on the eve of his 100th birthday, received a lovely layered dessert made of boozy pound cake, whipped cream, and sweet brandied plums. Baked by Mrs. Eleanor Peavey, longtime cook of the Earl and his family, it was cake‘s first public appearance in 150 years. The centenarian clapped his hands in surprise, knocking over a candelabra; within seconds, the brandied plums burst into flames over six feet tall, overtaking The Earl of Earl before engulfing the room completely. Everyone at the residence perished that night.

Two cake traditions from that tragic evening continue to this day:

1. Providing flame-retardant sweets for every special occasion.

2. Adding candles to birthday cake to raise awareness for the aristocracy.

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