Middle School Picture Day? Yes, Please Memorialize the Most Awkward Time of My Life

You don’t know it at the time, but Middle School Picture Day is for you. Elementary School Picture Day is most definitely for your parents, because they know they are about to lose you, and want to capture these last moments of cuteness. High School Picture Day is definitely for you, because you finally look remotely decent and you’ve got a professional there to document it.

But Middle School Picture Day? Who is that helping? Who is ever going to want to look at this atrocity, you think to yourself as you sit hunched over on a stool because you are still feeling a little awkward about having boobs, smiling tentatively for the photographer, careful not to snag your lips on your braces. Your parents aren’t going to show that shit around, “Here is my daughter, she’s going through puberty, it’s not going well.” You aren’t going to pass these out to your friends, “In case you don’t get a good enough look all day, here is a terrible photo of me for your amusement on nights and weekends.” And you certainly don’t want them for yourself. You already know that when the proofs are handed out in class you are going to turn them face down, shove them into your trapper keeper, and cut them into tiny pieces as soon as you get home, as you cry to yourself, “Is that what I really look like?!”

Photo Credit: nedhardy.com

Photo Credit: nedhardy.com

No, you don’t know it then. But the Middle School Picture is for you. It’s just for you in ten years. When you have transformed from an ugly duckling into a swan, and can look back on that picture and appreciate how far you’ve come. It’s for you to turn to on a shitty day and think, Actually, I can’t complain. At least I don’t have braces. At least I don’t shop at the Limited Too anymore. And at least I’m not in the seventh circle of hell grade. Yeah, I guess my life is pretty good. It’s for you to trot out at work and social events to shock and amaze your audience. “Yup, I swear, that fat kid with the uni-brow, that was me.”  The hideous portrait you once cried yourself to sleep over is now an affirmation of self, because of how little you resemble it. The Awkward Middle School Picture is a battle scar. It says: look at what I have overcome. I survived that. You don’t know it then – that one day you’d be proud to have ever been so ugly.

RTT Blog Hop

Monday Mad-Lib Madness

So I Went Undercover is hosting a mad-libs contest in the form of an open letter to someone who has done you wrong. You take the form letter provided and fill in your specific details in the parentheses. See how I put the ‘mad’ in mad-libs in this very angry Open Letter to the Lady Who Cut Me in Line. I don’t want to set expectations too high, but I do think this is much better than the last mad-lib I did, which relied solely on the use of the noun ‘buttface’ and the adjective ‘poopy’ for humor:

Dear (Lady who cut me in line and had the nerve to yell at me when I called you out on it),

I have been trying to forget that I feel this way for quite a while, but I can’t pretend anymore.  I am really (confused about what just happened).  You know when you (walked right up to the front of the line and pretended like you just wanted to stand in the shade, but really, you wanted to cut the line because you are a lazy, entitled shit?)  Well, let me share how that makes me feel…  When you (act like rules don’t apply to you, and then act bewildered and victimized when I point those rules out to you, and then verbally harass me to deflect attention from yourself), I feel (like I want to punch you in the face.)  Not so much (offended,) or even (indignant,) but really, really (hungry for violent retaliation.)  It makes me want to (I dunno, retaliate violently, with my foot, ooh or a bat!)  I would like to think that I am not the only one who feels this way.  As a matter of fact, you know (those 30 other people in line that you cut in front of too?)  Well they told me that (they hate you too.)

You know what they say:  If one person says you’re a (rude, psychotic bitch), you can forget it.  When two people say you’re a (rude psycho b), you might want to consider it.  When three people say you’re (an RPB), you might want to (take a good hard look in the mirror and get the fuck out.)  It’s about that time for you, (RPB.)  Think about that.

Since we are being so honest, there are a few other things I would like to air.  I hate it when you (try to change the subject by repeatedly saying, “I just knew you were going to say something, I knew it!” ) It makes me (want to scream, “Big fucking deal!” because really, how is that your defense? Why the hell wouldn’t I say something when you march your fat ass up here and park it in front of me in line like that is a totally normal and socially acceptable thing to do?)

I also hate the way you (keep putting your hand in my face.)  Every time you do it I want to (put my hand) in your (face and proceed to slap the shit out of it.)

Also, (self-righteous indignation) is not your real friend.  Remember that secret that you shared?  Well (your obvious guilt) shared it with everyone.  Now everyone knows you (are a rule-breaking buttface) and they all laugh at you behind your back.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.  I really like you.  I value our relationship.  But I cannot go on pretending (this violation) hasn’t happened.  If you care enough about me and this relationship, I am sure you would agree to (leave, leave and never come back).

Still friends?




If you’d like to play along, join the fun here: http://soiwentundercover.wordpress.com/2013/08/22/open-letter-ad-libs/

Idiots of the Week: Betcha Can’t Pick Just One

It’s a heavy burden, being the Idiot of the Week. So this time I thought I’d spread the weight across the shoulders of the handful of idiots I encountered in my comings and goings. So, without further ado, I present to you this week’s winners:

First, we have the lady who used her plastic metro card to pick food out of her teeth. Forget other concerns like, ‘that ain’t hot’ or ‘is that bad for your card?’ Those are really secondary to the obvious concern of ‘why would you put something that dirty in your mouth!?’ I have gotten progressively more OCD about germs and basically walk around like this on the metro:

Photo Credit: surgeryinterest.standford.edu

Photo Credit: surgeryinterest.standford.edu

and Miss Oral Hygiene 2013 over there might as well be doing this:

Photo Credit: mutantreviewers.wordpress.com

Photo Credit: mutantreviewers.wordpress.com

Up next is the lady at the service desk who snapped her fingers in a customer’s face to get his attention. He wasn’t understanding her directions so instead of racking her brain for another way to say “excuse me, sir” she decided to just snap in his face and point at what she wanted. You know, like when you train a dog! She thought she was being really professional, but everyone should know that treating someone like a dog is a no-no. If she did that to me I’d have been like,

Except it probably would have come out more like,

Hot on her heels is the woman who charged into the public bathroom in such a hurry, and slammed her stall door so hard, that mine came flying open. Not that the huge cracks in the door ensured my privacy before, but I do like having a door to pee behind. I consider it one of the major perks of not being in prison.

Photo Credit: projectfandom.com

Photo Credit: projectfandom.com

And, for good measure, let’s acknowledge these guys as well. Because… well, this one is just self-explanatory. I think my favorite part is when he tells the fox he is his guardian angel. Or (SPOILER ALERT) when the fox dances. I did not see that one coming.

Don’t forget, you can submit your stories to be features on Idiot of the Week. Or hoard them because coming soon is an Idiot of the Week Blog Hop! If you are interested, comment below and I can let you know when it is up and running!

Idiot of the Week: I Can Do Anything You Can Do Better

I am no stranger to the saying, “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” Just look at the title of this site; of course I think I can do everything better myself! Group projects? Pass! Screw you guys, I’d rather do the whole thing alone. Subway sandwiches? Move over, I’ll show you how to make a sandwich. (I mean, yes, I did ask for onions but did you honestly think I wanted two handfuls? And nobody needs so much lettuce that their sandwich can’t close. And who puts the mayo on last? You are supposed to spread it on the bread! I don’t want to take a bite of sandwich and have it just be lettuce and mayo!)

yumBut people forget that this adage has its limits, and few seem aware of the contrary and less popular saying, “If you want to fuck something up royally, by all means, do it yourself.” Like cutting your own bangs – even though it seems like you would just cut across in a straight line…you can’t. Or tailoring your own clothes. Or anything involving car maintenance. If you have some knowledge in these areas, then sure, maybe you can do it yourself. But if not…consider that there is a reason that people do this for a living, and that they may have honed a skill that you haven’t.

Even I will admit that not everyone is an idiot and that some people are better than me at doing their own job. One instance where this is true is at the grocery store. Ever since the introduction of the Self Check-Out, people have flocked to those kiosks to scan and bag their own items because they assume it will be faster. If it’s new and it’s technology, it must be better! And sometimes it is. When I have one or two items, and they both have a bar code, and there is no line for the Self Check-Out, I agree that it is just as fast for me to check out myself and enjoy the added bonus of not having to talk to anyone.

But beyond that, I’m sticking to my tried-and-true human check-out person. If I have a cart full of groceries to scan and bag, why would I want to do all that work when I could be standing there watching someone else do it at a much faster rate? These people bag groceries all day long. They already have the codes for avocados and Gala apples memorized. They sort cans away from eggs and bread without even thinking. If they double scan something they can just delete it and don’t have to clench their fists and teeth while an automated voice tells them there seems to be a problem and wait for the attendant to come help. There is no way I could be faster at checking out than this person.

So why is it that every time I want to go to the Self Check-Out to scan one freaking bag of tortilla chips so I can go home and enjoy my fresh guacamole, there is a line four people deep of idiots with a cart full of groceries? What are you people doing? Did you honestly think this would be faster? These kiosks were not designed for more than a handful of items. There isn’t even enough room at the kiosk to unload all your groceries, nor is there enough room to bag them. But if you remove one of your bags to make room for another, the machine freaks out and stops everything to accuse you of stealing. “Please do not remove items from the bag. No really, put that back, where do you think you are going with that jar of pickles? Did you think I wouldn’t notice? I am a machine, I know everything!”

How could this possibly be faster than someone flinging your items down a conveyor belt and bagging them like a human-octopus hybrid? I mean these people are fast. What makes you think you can waltz in there and magically do a better job than someone who does this 20-40 hours a week? Especially when you are in fact slow as shit. I am going to write a book called, The Audacity of Confidence, where I complain about people who have way more faith in themselves than they should. I’m sorry, but we aren’t all incredibly talented and competent. Ask Darwin. These delusional slowpokes need to face facts and just get out of the way so those of us with three items or less can get in, get out, and get on with our lives…or guacamole…whatever!

What do you think – are your local cashiers competent enough to earn your trust or do you feel better off alone? Take the poll!