I'm bloggin', yessiree, and I'm talkin', 'bout you and me . . .

And Fleetwood Mac, Calvin pissing stickers, gum, maybe other things . . .

Okay, so we're in Trader Joe's this morning, and music rarely gets past me, so I always notice what's playing over the speakers, and this morning it was Fleetwood Mac's "Go Your Own Way." Well, a month or so ago, I felt pretty stupid for purchasing said song over iTunes, along with Rhiannon, Gold Dust Woman and Landslide. But you know, they're only a dollar on iTunes -- I spend more on gum, so I figured what the hell. But back to this morning, they're playing it in Trader Joe's, and I'm over by the Powerbars and I hear two women singing along with the chorus. "You can go your own way!" they emphatically intone, then kind of giggle. I pick up a couple Pria bars and head to the cereal to get more Peanut Butter Panda Puffs (I don't know why I'm all over the brand names today, just go with me) and glance at the Gorilla Crunch, when the chorus comes around again, and I hear a woman's voice (not a member of the Mac) singing "You can go your own way!" in an enthusiastic fashion. I turn, expecting to see the two women of a minute ago, but no, it's someone new. Since I myself had been singing along a minute before, I start to wonder how this song has seeped into the collective unconcious so pervasively. It's kind of sick. And even weirder . . . that line and the one after it ("you can call it another lonely day") are the only lyrics I know, and I kind of have the feeling I'm not alone.

Hey, speaking of music, my grandma wanted me to help her get some pictures off her digital camera and printed, and most of them are of an awards ceremony I went to 18 months ago. So she wants me to print them for her (for me) all in 8x10, and I'm trying to tell her that the ink and photo paper are expensive, and that anyway I really don't need 8x10s of me with, like, my professors, but she insists. So now I've twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against me. Just kidding, but that's what I think of every time I look at them and try to decide what to do with them, and if you are not currently singing "Step right up it's around the back, just a half a mile from the railroad track, you can get anything you want . . . " then you won't know what I'm talking about anyway.

Calvin pissing stickers have been around for awhile, so I'm a little late blogging about them I guess, but they have generally irritated me since their inception, mainly because I've read all the introductions to all the Bill Watterson Calvin & Hobbes collections, and I know that he never authorized any merchandise, so he's not seeing any money from these, besides the fact that they're kind of antithetical to the spirit of the strip, which I always enjoyed. Still, I just accepted that this is how our culture works sometimes -- people need to express their distate for Ford, or the Raiders, or whatever. I got even more agitated when I saw Calvin praying, which is just ridiculous. If you've got a Calvin praying sticker, have you ever even read the strip? Know what it's about? Its like having a picture of Michael Newdow embroidered onto your American flag. Yay, I'm going to have a picture of William Burroughs on my car with a halo and praying hands. That's fuckin' strange. Calvin as a girl is even weirder. It's like no one even remembers where the figure came from anymore. But now, oh now I have seen it all. Literally everything, as Calvin pissing stickers have him pissing on the word "everything." Yeah. Now, I get negativity, I understand the glass is half empty philosophy, I can even comprehend misanthropy, but hating and denigrating everything? It seems like it's going a tad too far. Like, you're saying you hate homemade strawberry ice cream, hugs, Calvin stickers, nice weather, clear roadways, tax refund checks, oral sex, good coffee, air conditioning, your mom, babies, and everything . . . EVERYTHING. Now maybe you DO hate a lot of things, but everything? Seriously? Then go kill yourself. That's all that's left for you. If you didn't even get a temporary thrill out of sticking your Calvin pissing sticker on your car, if you were hating it even as you did it, then there is no hope. It will never get better. The world will be a better place without you in it. Calvin is pissing on your grave.

I like gum. I'm a pretty regular gum chewer. Generally I like minty flavors and cinnamon-y flavors, and the stronger the better. Not too long ago, a thought struck me -- lemon flavored gum! Wouldn't that be refreshing? Mmmm, lemons and gum. And then a few weeks later, I saw Eclipse Lemon Ice. No way! My dream come true! And upon testing the product, I was even more pleased and satisfied, as it fulfilled all my lemony refreshing gum requirements. Delicious! Now, generally when I choose my gum, I'm looking for strong mint flavor, so I go for dark blue packages. I don't know why, but across the brands, dark blue is the code for strong minty goodness. But with the advent of lemon gum, I decided to branch out. I was willing to go crazy. I looked over the descriptions of the Eclipse gum, Refreshingly Minty, Distinctly Cool, Pleasantly Intense, Sweetly Powerful, Surprisingly Fresh, and Uniquely Soothing. I couldn't tell which mint was most likely to be strong. Is "pleasantly intense" more or less intense than "sweetly powerful." I would have to call their descriptions "frightfully unhelpful." But still, I was so pleased with the lemon gum that I decided to give their "Cherry Chill: Uniquely Soothing" gum a chance. I am now "deeply regretful." That shit is foul, ladies and gentlemen. It tastes like Robitussin. I almost coughed and took my temperature just out of habit. See, cough syrup doesn't taste good just because they color it red and put a picture of a cherry on the bottle. You still have to shoot it, then shake your head around and stick your tongue out. It's like watching a 14-year old try whiskey each time I take a shot of DayQuil. Usually the sound effect is "GAAAAAHHHHHWHuggawhuggawhuuuuuuu." And this Cherry Chill? It's like that. How can they market something this disgusting? Well, they still sell those dried salted plums in the Mexican markets, so I guess there are some people out there with freakish tastebuds. Man. Nasty gum. Whuguggugugugggwhhuuuu.

Yesterday I was having one of those up-and-down days. Like, good breakfast, but sucky service. Good time with friends at band practice, but I forgot some lyrics and thought the tempo on one song was screwy. My cat got out, got onto the roof, and I had a hard time getting her down, and while searching for her, I fell and conked my head on some bricks. But then I got her down and corralled in the house. I was having dinner with my sweetie, but while getting dressed for dinner, my evil brain was saying really mean things to me about being too fat. Then my stepmom called and said she had something for me. When she and my dad showed up, they had a check. A big check! Apparently, she was the beneficiary to a will of a friend she'd been taking care of. I didn't even know him, so I certainly don't feel entitled to any of the money, but they said that all three of us (my stepbrother and stepsister) all got the same, and I accepted it. I was pretty stunned. At first, I was like "shit, I can get all that stuff on my wish list from the other day!" But then I decided that I'll pay off my Pottery Barn couch with half of it and sock the other half away. That was I'm not paying interest on the Pottery Barn card, and can save money each month that I would have paid toward that bill. So maybe in a couple months (after the Xmas presents are bought), I WILL get that ocean kayak I've been wanting. 'Cause I'll be like a grown-up, with no debt beside the house and car, and will be able to save some money, a long-elusive goal. Wow. I'm still stunned. I pretty much ran to the bank to put it in so I didn't do anything stupid and me-like with the check. Dang. Wow.

Mockula out.