How I Avoid Speeding Tickets

Like most people, I love to sing in the car. LOVE IT. I'm a big time transit rockstar. I sing. I dance. I have fun.
This is me:

(If you know random things about me, you'll know this part is my jam (at 5:55).)

But when a car pulls up next to me, I do what everyone else does: I act cool, like I wasn't just actin' a fool.

Sometimes if I'm in the middle of dancing, I try to act smooth like I was really just reaching for something or changing the station. Don't lie. You all do this too.

Evidently what makes me different than most of you is that when I pass a cop car, or a cop passes me, I do not stop singing/dancing/actin' the fool.

I kick it up a notch.

My theory is that if I'm speeding and look like I'm TOTALLY caught up in my music, the cop will be all, "LOL! Look at that ridiculous girl! Has she no shame??"

Worst case scenario (in my head) is that he'll pull me over and be like, "Listen... I know you were really into that song but you gotta pay attention. I'll give you a warning..."

Either way, I don't have a ticket. So far my theory has worked out. Of course, I don't really tend to drive that much over the speed-limit anyway because I'm afraid a ticket with full-coverage insurance will murder my bank account.

Yeah... Something like that.

This advice really only applies during the day. At night the police can't see you-- and neither can other cars. There's no need to stop singing and dancing when nobody can see you.

Keep rockin', bloggies!

Wooooo!

*dweedle-ah dweedle-ah weeeeeeeeeee bah bow bow bow!!* [<-- awesome guitar finish]

The first snow of the year can only mean one thing: bad drivers.

You may remember a few hours ago when I was like, "Yay, snow!!!"

I should have disclaimed that with, "I love snow, but I don't love driving in snow."

Particularly the first snow of the season.

There are always people who drive, like, 5 miles an hour, and while I appreciate their value for life, they drive me nuts. I passed one of those people tonight.

Conversely I was passed by this guy:

I hate this guy. "Four-wheel drive" doesn't mean "invincibility." It means, "I have traction with all 4 wheels so that if I go in a ditch, I may not have to ask passing cars for help." May not.

I was on my way home tonight when Mr. I'm-Driving-Entirely-Too-Fast-For-These-Conditions passed me. I've illustrated the next few moments for you.

Me: It's cool, dude. You can pass me on this 4 lane road. That's why we have all those lanes. But you might wanna slow down a tad before you hit that intersection...

Him: Blah!!! I'm reckless and have no value on anyone else's life!! Hahahah--! WHOA! ICE! Where'd that come from?

Him: What? No damage was done in all that? That girl has a green arrow and now I'm in a totally different direction but hey-- it used to be my turn. I think I'll go now too!

Amazingly we both survived that intersection. I'm sure all the cars who were waiting at that light were full of crapped-pants-ed passengers who all were nearly taken out in Dude's crazy spin cycle.

Unfortunately as soon as I turned that corner there was a truck that had slid into a ridiculously deep ditch. I'm not sure (a) why the ditch is so deep there, or (b) how he managed to get the end of the bed in the hole, but he was pretty dang lucky he hadn't gone front end in or he would've been (a) hurt, and/or (b) trapped inside.

I made it home in one piece-- hooray!-- but I fear my drawing skills have deteriorated in the anxiety of it all. I'm usually much better at cars, or at least at trucks, but hey, at least I managed to keep my real car looking good!

YAY SNOW!!!!

GUESS WHAT!

It's snowing!!! Yaaaayyyyyyy!!!!!!!!

Sleeeeeeep....

So... tired...

Boo for grad school. Especially until 10pm...

Christmas Crazy

My mom loves Christmas. She has always made it magical at our house for the holidays. For as long as I can remember, she's been "over the top" with decorations. This year, as I helped my dad carry all the stuff in from the barn, I counted all the boxes Mom had collected. We had twenty-one totes, nine boxes, three trees (a 9' and two 4'), and two wreaths, not to mention Dad's outdoor things.

We, of course, have the standard items:

A Christmas tree,

stockings by the fireplace,

a wreath on the door,

garland on the stairs...

But then we get a little more intense:

Decorations on top of every curio cabinet and hutch,

redundant decor,

(hmm, the antlers seem out of place)

replacement holiday-themed dog toys...

Then she goes to a whole other level of Christmas crazy. Nothing is safe.

Eating in the kitchen is difficult.

Not even the lamps are spared.

Don't get me wrong: I love Christmas crazy. It's contagious. It makes the season more magical being completely engrossed in the Wonder of it all. Once, when I was little, Mom even wrapped all the pictures hanging on the walls and put bows on them so it looked like we had presents hanging everywhere. It was completely awesome (but Mom realized it was a waste of expensive wrapping paper and never did it again. Awr.)

Despite all the giddy awesomeness of Christmas at my house, there is one piece that I dread getting out each year. It's great and horrible all at the same time.

I call it "Satan Santa."

Satan Santa was a clearance impulse buy at Sears a hundred years ago. I think he was broken, or maybe his soulless beedy green eyes terrified too many people, but Mom bought him anyway. Over the years he has been given many names: "The Christmas Demon," "Creepy Dude," "The Pedophile"... As much as we all hate him and give him these names, we can't bring ourselves to get rid of him.

You see, Satan Santa holds a tray in his hands and in that tray my mom keeps a constant supply of delicious candy. Reese's, Snickers, Nestle Crunch, Hershey's-- anything "miniature" sized is in there. If we pick out all the Nestle Treasures, Mom refills them and perpetuates the creepy candy man cycle of terror. Mmmm. Tasty, tasty terror.

And there you have it. That's what Christmas looks like at my house. I left out things like the holiday plates and the snowman butterknives but I think you get the idea.

Merry Christmas!!!

My Thanksgiving Strategy

Thanksgiving is a sacred holiday in my family. We are eaters. We like food. We habitually eat too much food. Being the ultimate Day of Eating, Thanksgiving is a big deal to us.

Some people just show up and eat what's available at their get togethers, but for families like mine, we strategize.

Step 1: Wake up early-ish. Start thinking about food.

Step 2: Eat a light breakfast. If you eat too much, you won't wear it off before food time. If you don't eat at all, you'll munch before the official start time. Either way, you won't be at your full hunger potential for dinner time.

Step 3: Make something edible that you know how to make (and won't ruin). In my case: deviled eggs. Because my family attempts to dress slightly nicer than bums when we get together for holidays, it is important to dress in grubby clothes all morning because you'll inevitably make a mess.

Step 4: Right before people should be showing up, change your clothes and clean up.(Note: It's always best to host these things, as you will see in just a moment.) If you want to be just like me, put on a nice V-neck sweater. This isn't a formal event. Sweaters are nice enough.

Step 5: As people arrive with food, reevaluate your game plan and examine the choices available. If you counted on cheesecake and there is no cheesecake, you will have to make adjustments.

Step 6: When you spot the food on your list, DIVE IN!! Do not wait for Cousins to get food. They are too slow. You could be on Round 2 by the time they sit down.

Step 7: Once you're full to the point of combustion, nibble cookies until food has settled enough for Round 18.  It is also permissable to sneak away to change clothes at this time. Everyone has seen you all dressed up and will not think you're a bum if you suddenly are wearing something else.

I recommend a hoodie and drawstring pants. A hoodie is baggy and has a pouch for hiding food or holding napkins. Drawstring pants are preferable to elastic bands because they won't attempt to hold on so tight around your tenderly full stomach. Note: Any baggy, hobo clothes can be worn as long as they have a Michigan State logo. Anything with this symbol is acceptable to our family.

When your hair has lost its coloring (as mine apparently has in these pictures), it is safe to stop eating. Results may vary-- most people will be asleep from the tryptophan by this point.

Added bonus

Self-portrait, inspired by Allie Brosh