The Brave One

At the coffee shop near my house there is a "community journal" that asks a generic question on a daily basis and invites the coffee shop patrons to answer in participation. The other day the question was "Who do you think will win the Oscar for Best Picture?" to which the lone written answer was Hairspray, a film which wasn't even in the running, which I guess says a lot about my neighborhood. So while I waited for my tea to brew, I decided to flip through the journal to read the previous questions and answers to see if they were equally inspiring. That's when I came across the question "What is the bravest thing you've ever done?" The answers from those participating went something like this:

- Had a kid
- Had a baby
- Went to college
- Bought a car
- Had a baby
- Had a baby
- Had a kid
- Had a baby
- Wore a sleeveless dress
- Had a baby

I instantly felt bad for the obviously fat-armed participant who mustered up the guts to wear a sleeveless dress, because if that was indeed the bravest thing she's ever done then she either has the most boring life ever or mutant shoulders. I suppose it could have been written by a man, and that's where the bravery part comes in. I dunno.

But I was a little confused about why having a kid was suddenly and ubiquitously considered a "brave" thing to do. I can concede that raising a kid can be a lot of work and is in some cases a sincerely selfless act, but I hardly think that succumbing to the innate biological imperative to reproduce - an imperative that 95% of the rest of the population also succumbs to - can be considered "brave". If that's the case, then we may as well hand out medals to everyone who is brave enough to breathe oxygen and walk on two feet.

But then I started to feel judgmental about those self-important babymakers, mostly because I couldn't instantly think of anything I've done that could seriously be considered braver than locking yourself into that lifetime commitment of having a kid. The results after I sat down to write my own bravery list were less than impressive:

- Figured out how to ride the Seattle Metro Bus system
- Walked home drunk through the Seattle ghetto at 3am
- Moved to Seattle by myself
- Approached a celebrity in an Eyeglass Store
- Ate foie gras
- Um... ran a half marathon?

Lame indeed. But what really counts as being "brave" these days anyway? Combat in Iraq? Skydiving? Cold Water Rescue? The Iditarod? If that's what it takes to be considered brave then you can count me out. And in that case, I guess it's a good thing to actively lower the standards for what can and cannot be labeled as a brave act. So let's give it up for those brave babymakers:



Hip Hip Hooray!

Brilliant

M. Night has a new movie coming out and from the looks of it, this may be the biggest comedy of 2008. I think its great that he's decided to go away from his usual thrillers and try to follow in the footsteps of Judd Apatow.I just keep watching this trailer over and over, maybe its a spoof movie like "Meet the Spartans" since Mark Wahlberg sounds like he's reading off of a cue card. What am I saying?! He probably can't read. Hopefully the 5 seconds of "Smell the fart acting" that he does (starting at 1:42) will silence all those people that herald him as the greatest actor of our generation.

Bear with me...I'm on a V-day kick.

I don't pretend to be an expert in many walks of life. Parallel parking, wine and cheese pairings, John Cusack trivia, hypothetical fights between 18th century poets and famous 1980's rockers, these are things I excel in. But you can bet your bottom dollar that just as Brian Adams would kick the crap out of William Wordsmith I am an expert on avoiding all things Valentine's day. (It should be noted that I Googled 18th century poets because if you've ever met me in real life or have ever read this blog before you could probably deduce that I don't know all that much about poetry, I mean I know that words rhyme, sometimes. That sort of rhymed...right? But imagine my delight when I saw that there was a poet named William Wordsmith. WILLIAM WORDSMITH...and he was a poet! Anyone? That just made my day. Who knew history could take time out from its busy schedule of being pretentiously pointless and unbearably tiresome to pencil in some hilarity to its regularly scheduled programming of "Blah Blah Boring" and "...And This Guy Died").

So back to my point: I hate history. Wait that's not it. Let me pop some Ritalin like Popeye pops his spinach (Note to self: Look up pop on an online thesaurus to avoid such a poorly constructed sentence in the future. Also buy milk.)

Valentines day is a day for love, togetherness, and spending endless amounts of money to justify your love for another human being...for some of us. For the rest of us it is a big fat reminder that we are yet again alone and are heading for a lifetime membership of the "Crazy old people with cats club." As snarky and sarcastic as that sentence sounds, I'm not bitter. Weird huh? I know what you are thinking, you're thinking, "Sandy how can you not hate Valentines Day? The holiday that has always found you perpetually alone and the day that came right after your sad breakup that led to you setting the record for most times playing the song, "All out of Love" by Air Supply in a two week period? And to that I reply...hmm. Actually you bring up a very valid point hypothetical question from my alter ego that future psychiatrists will diagnose as a cry for help. But we are not here to talk about me, even though it is my blog and I probably have a mountain of problems we could really get to the core of today...right...helping people. The greater good. Gottcha. Let's do this...list style, because let’s face it, any other style results in about three hundred words that go nowhere near the point. It's the way I roll...

Single People:

How To Deal With...Other Couples: Do you ever see happy couples walking down the street holding hands and sort of wish that a pile of bricks or an Acme anvil (stop watching 1990's cartoons before writing Sandy, this is your last warning) will fall on their heads? Umm... I don't either. Sure these couples look like they are having fun, but remember this; when those couples are off spending romantic nights engaging in tickle fights and acrobatic sex you will have more free time to read a book, catch up on old reruns of Perfect Strangers, and learn a marketable skill (refrigeration repair is a growing industry...I'm just saying). Advantage...Single people.

Chocolate Hearts and Fat Naked Angels with Bows and Arrows Everywhere: Candy makes you fat and Cupid probably has diabetes. Sorry to burst your bubble happy couples. Advantage...Single people and anyone who isn't a menacing historical figment that shoots people with arrows. Arrows kill people Cupid. Rent Robin Hood.

Family Members Asking You About Holiday Plans: Caller ID.

Being Alone: Are you really alone? Think about it. People have friends, pets, Chia Pets, those little digital pets that were all the rage seven years ago, life is good people. Sure you might not have a Valentine this year, well guess what, 89% of all attractive, healthy, and awesome people are single and that is a fact. So cut loose, Footloose, and have a girls night out with all of your friends. Have a few drinks, unwind, and head on down to a neighborhood bar.

Couples:

How To Deal With...SHUT UP AND STOP COMPLAINING.

Have you ever teared up while watching the classic "Say Anything" alone during Valentine's Day 06? Have you? ANSWER ME!!!

Moving on...Worst comes to worst, I'll be your Valentine America. I'm sort of cute looking, I can cook, write, and sort of be your perfect soul mate. If you are a man between the ages of eighteen and sixty seven and you've said to yourself, "If only I could find a great caring, funny, cute gal...but taken down a notch or two" then you are in luck!

Remember, some people use Valentine's Day as a motivational tool to better their life and make some positive changes, that could be you! Or binge drink...either or. Just remember it's never too late to turn it all around. Sure you don't have a Valentine this year but I have a sneaky suspicion that all eight of you that read my blog will have one next year. And if not you can follow the advice my mother always use to give to me before she would tuck me in at night, "Sandy there is always prostitution." Just kidding, love you mom! Oh and remember that William Wordsmith dude I was talking about earlier, well he had an incestuous relationship with his sister and died alone.

Happy Valentine's Day Earth!!!

XOXO Sandy

One of my not-so favorite holidays is upon us. This Thursday couples everywhere will celebrate being together, while those of us that are single will weep into our bottomless glasses of wine. For the past several years I had hoped to share Valentine’s Day with that very special someone, sadly, he is still hiding from me so I’m destined to spend it alone. Usually I have excellent plans to fall back on, but this year for some reason, I’ve got squat. If I were a single guy I know exactly what I’d need for a perfect night: 6 pack of beer, porn and ESPN. We single girls are more complex than that.

In an effort to ensure that I don’t cry myself to sleep after consuming an entire quart of Dryer’s Slow Churned Cookies & Cream ice cream and a bottle of champagne, I’m gonna plan something fun. Now, which of these 4 will I go for:

Option #1: Perhaps I will choose to make Ryan Reynolds my Valentine. We can get to know one another over a bucket of buttered popcorn or way too much Coca Cola. He is dreamy and I would like to mount him like the stallion that he is.

Option #2: I suck it up and order myself some flowers and write something fabulous on the card like, “Hey there Top Single! You rock my world!” Then when they arrive at work, I’ll pretend I have no idea who sent the flowers to me and everyone will think I have a dreamy secret admirer. Then I’ll go home, order some pizza, and watch Bridget Jones’ Diary (for the bagillionth time).

Option #3: I take a half day from work. Spend the afternoon at the Seattle Art Museum. On the way home I can pick up some (notice I said ”some” and not “one”) cupcakes from Cupcake Royale and some take out from Tup Tim Thai. Then I can go home and watch some action flick where people get blown up and no one makes out.

Option #4: I mope around all day and roll my eyes when other people get flowers at work. After work, I immediately put on my pajamas and crawl into bed getting out only for the Dryer’s Slow Churned Cookies & Cream ice cream and to refill my glass of champagne. Pop in Terms of Endearment and weep the whole night long while checking my cellphone every 15 minutes in hopes that I get an invite for a last minute date.

Decisions, decisions. . .