Epitaph Game

There’s a game happening on Tumblr where you figure out what your epitaph will say. It sounds macabre until you read the directions:

Uh oh, you just died and your family is planning what your tombstone will say. They decide to use your last outgoing text message. What’s your tombstone say?

My favorite epitaph so far: “I’m here.” That could be frightening or comforting, depending on how you look at it.

Some other gems are:

“Ok NOW I’m napping”

“Scott said I didn’t need to come in today”

“I just walked out of hospital cos it was making me worst”

“See you soon”

“Thought you’d find it funny and Kristen might too”

“So, if cats get lured away that’s why”

“Yeah, same”

“Let me know how it goes”

“I’m on my way now”

“You need to be let in?”

“Which one of us in this relationship never answers their phone?”

“Mum just finishing ironing, then we’ll be there”

“Noooooooooo”

“Oh dang it, see you some other time then”

“Ok :)

“Goodnight <3″

“This makes me feel even more single”

“Yes it’s painful”

“I literally just woke up”

“Call me”

“Oops”

What would your epitaph say? Leave it in the comments.

Casual Friday

Of all the things I missed about this blog, I think I missed Casual Friday posts the most. It’s fun links on a Friday. What’s not to love?

—  Artist attempts to create most frustrating products imaginable.

impossible cutlery

—  By now you’ve seen Happy Chewbaca Mom. Now see what her family was gifted from Kohl’s.

—  Bryan Cranston’s Super Sweet 60

—  What the World Eats for Breakfast. Yes, it’s a BuzzFeed video but I loved it.

—  Riding a Roller Coaster Blind. Would this be scarier or less scary? I can’t decide.

—  We are about the same age if you’ve seen this movie and you were jealous of Nancy McKeon.

—  20 Healthiest Foods

—  I don’t really like this haircut but this Italian barber is a true artist.

—  50 Ways Happier, Healthier and More Successful People Live on Their Own Terms

—  I want to do every one of these things in my backyard

 

Plot Twist

Recently, Lucas and I took the kids to Goodwill. I was hoping to find an old-fashioned cake stand and they were just along for the company. As usual, I didn’t find what I wanted and ended up buying stuff we didn’t really need. This time the unnecessary purchases were a pair of roller skates for the kids, conveniently shelved next to the used walking boots and braces to remind me of the potential painful injuries. Like I don’t worry enough already.

While we were slowly herding the kids toward the checkout counter, some lady started talking on the phone very loudly. I’m usually not one to eavesdrop on a stranger’s phone conversation but… yes I am.

Keep in mind, I wasn’t trying to overhear. But she was yelling, “What?! Naked? NAKED?!”

That caught my attention.

Then she said, “Delete it! Delete the post!”

Was she talking to someone who accidentally posted a nude photo? Not gonna lie, now I was really curious.

There was a pause that I’m assuming was filled with hysteria on the end of the line. Then: “Oh my gosh! You have to get off Facebook. You don’t know how to use it! Just click on the button on the side of the post and hit delete.”

I was totally invested in the outcome. I had to know, will she get it deleted?

After another pause the woman said, “Okay, okay. We’ll check it out. I gotta go. We’ll call you back.”

She hung up the phone, turned to her middle school-aged son beside her and exclaimed, “Well, that was a stupid emergency!”

Lady, that doesn’t sound like a stupid emergency to me. It actually sounds pretty legitimate. In fact, I can hardly think of anything more urgent than deleting an accidentally-posted naked picture of yourself from Facebook. Each passing second is a chance for someone to save a digital copy of your nude selfie and it will be out there in cyberspace FOREVER. I didn’t even know this woman and I was concerned for her.

Then this woman instructed her son, who apparently has the Facebook app on his phone, to check out this mystery person’s profile. “Is there anything there?” she asked.

“No, I don’t see anything. What is it, again? Her butt?” he asked.

Pay attention, kid. This is a Level One Emergency.

“No! She was naked. She posted a naked picture of herself!” The exasperation in the woman’s voice tells me that she has been through more than a few of the caller’s self-created crises.

“Well,” the kid says, remarkably calm, “it’s gone now. The last picture posted was from a few months ago.”

The woman told him, “I don’t feel like talking to her anymore. You call her and tell her it’s gone.”

So the kid pushes a few buttons on his phone and waits for his call to connect. He says, “Hello? Grandma?”

Wait. Grandma? Grandma!?!

And yes, I did actually have the nerve to say something. I looked boldly at this woman and said, “Wait, so that was his grandmother who posted the naked picture?”

She was unperturbed by me inserting myself into this situation. She nodded her head and rolled her eyes, as if to imply, “Old people these days. What’re you gonna do?” Then we had a short pleasant chat before I had to locate my family who had wandered off to look at more stuff we don’t need. Can you believe that? They were totally unaware this whole crisis had taken place.

Some of you might be thinking I’m awfully nosy. I disagree. I couldn’t very well blog about this without confirming that I’d understood the situation correctly. So, I was like a journalist scrupulously verifying my facts and interviewing sources so that I could accurately bring you one of the greatest plot twists I’ve ever heard.

You’re welcome.

Summer Rules

Summer RulesHudson’s last day of first grade is tomorrow. This is a page of summer rules he colored at school. Of all the things on this list, I think I’m most looking forward to sleeping in.

Puh-lease

Josh Duggar

Read the story on CNN.com

I feel the sorriest for Josh Duggar’s children. Anna? She won’t leave him. She was okay with marrying him knowing he was a pedophile and she had children with him. Why would she divorce him for cheating? It’s the least of what he’s done.

P.S. He didn’t even apologize. His statement said he “deeply regret(s)” the hurt he caused and he “humbly” asks for forgiveness. But okay. Let’s “forgive” Josh and show him the exact same amount of forgiveness and compassion he has shown for those who disagree with his morals. I mean, his professed morals.

So. Dooce is quitting.

While I was living my life, this news quietly broke and I’m just now finding out about it. Man, some days you log into Facebook and WHAM!  you get hit with something you had no clue about.

 Heather Armstrong

You can read the related article here or read the announcement of her retirement on Dooce.

Goals

Hudson in a swingHudson just said, “I wish I had my own playground… or that I could take over the world!”

It’s good to have goals.

Every Tom Hanks Movie in 7 Minutes

My favorite Tom Hanks movie is Splash. No wait, it’s Money Pit. I really liked The ‘Burbs too. Classic Tom Hanks is the best. But The Green Mile was awesome too. So was Castaway even though it makes me cry when Wilson floats away. Sleepless in Seattle was great too. And You’ve Got Mail…

Alright, I can’t decide. I love Tom Hanks. If you do too then you’ll love this. Tom Hanks recreates his movies in seven minutes with The Late Late Show host, James Corden, and it’s perfection.

Happy Birthday, Micky

Happy 70th birthday, Micky Dolenz. That’s Micky without an E. He’s a Monkee, not a mouse.

Micky Dolenz
I met him in Los Angeles once before a concert with him and Davy Jones. And if you’re wondering how to meet a celebrity, it’s not as hard as you’d think. I called the venue directly to buy tickets. The girl on the phone was so sweet that I chanced to ask, “So, what hotel do the bands normally stay at?” Suddenly this girl’s voice took on a conspiratorial tone. It was like we were old friends when she whispered, “I can’t confirm anything but we usually book the bands at [name of hotel].

And that was literally all it took. Just asking the question.

So when I called to book the hotel I got to talk to another very personable lady. I said, “I know Davy and Micky are staying here. Can you tell me what room number they’re in? Or what floor they’re on?” I seriously doubted she’d tell me the room number. That could cost her her job. And she didn’t tell me the room or floor number. But she did do something totally awesome: “What I can tell you is you’re close. You’re very close to where their rooms.” I took that to mean she’d put my room on the same floor. I was right.

I arrived in L.A. from Phoenix on the day of the show several hours early. After checking in I went to my room and got ready because obviously I wasn’t going to meet Micky Dolenz or Davy Jones looking like I’d just spent the last seven hours in a car whose air conditioning had broken about halfway through the trip.

My friends decided to roam around looking for them but I didn’t want to risk it. Sooner or later they’d have to come to their rooms. So I sat in the hall just outside my hotel room, which coincidentally had a view of the elevator too. I had a pen, an old Tiger Beat magazine with the Monkees on the cover that I’d bought on eBay, and nothing but time on my hands. By the time I heard the ding! of someone exiting the elevator I was about to nod off. When I turned to look, it was Micky Dolenz dressed in all black, including his socks and shoes. He looked so adorkably handsome.

Micky was talking on his cell phone but, fortunately for me, wrapping up the call. It was obvious I was waiting for him and he slowed down as he walked past. I found it so endearingly charming that Micky waited for me to ask for his autograph rather than just assuming.

He smiled shyly and smoothed his hair before taking my pen and autographing the Tiger Beat. As soon as he walked away, I went in my room and jumped up and down on the bed.

I’m sure it wouldn’t turn out to be so easy to meet Justin Beiber or whatever teeny-bopper celebrity is currently a mega-star. But it can totally work for other celebrities. And here’s another helpful tip that I learned the hard way: if you’re staying at the same hotel as the band you’re in town to see, always eat at the hotel restaurant.

Micky, if you’re reading this please forgive me for stalking you and then blogging about I stalked you. Also, I love you.

Push to Add Drama

Most of the television I watch is pre-recorded so I can fast forward through commercials. But once in awhile a brilliant marketing team creates an ad compelling enough to be brief entertainment in its own right.

What if there was a button to add romance? Waiters in tuxedos bring out a table for two covered in white linen and rose petals. Champagne on ice. A violinist serenades you. Fireworks burst in the sky.

How about a button to add humor to a situation? Wherever you are, Jerry Seinfeld appears and performs stand-up comedy.

I really like the idea of a drama button. I’ve often said to Lucas my life is sadly lacking in euphoria. Sure, it’s happy and full of love but what about the intensity? The excitement? So I made this list of possible adrenaline rushes:

Crowd dive at a concert.
Normally I don’t like live music but I’d make an exception for this.

Attend a fancy movie premiere.
Sneak in, if necessary. Bonus: obtain press credentials and ask losing celebrities why they’ve never won any awards.

Perform drunken karaoke.
Possible songs: Copacabana, Summer Nights, and It’s the End of the World as We Know It.

Become an immortal.
This requires a reconnaissance mission to Italy to locate a vampire coven. *Highly dangerous.* Consider hiring private investigators.

Train to fight in the zombie apocalypse.
I’m assuming this goes beyond classes offered at our local gyms. To do: put an ad on Craigslist for a survival trainer.

Ride motorcycles on the freeway during rush hour.
If you’ve ever driven in Phoenix, you know why our auto insurance rates are so high.

Provoke the Church of Scientology.
See if their campaigns of stalking, harassment and wire tapping are legit. Then provoke Donald Trump. Compare results.

Diffuse a bomb.
We may have to make our own if we can’t find one about to detonate.

Join the Cirque du Soleil.
We should be in excellent shape for this after training to fight zombies.

Speaking of drama and adrenaline, are you watching Better Call Saul? This is probably the only spinoff show in history to be as good as the original. Now that this show has started, my Monday nights have certainly gotten high octane.