Happy Birthday to Me

In the last month I have heard from three different people that said they prefer me miserable rather than happy. Evidently it has something to do with how I handle my anger. If you haven't heard, and aside from Dallas (My Brother) none of you have heard, the Harvey Danger song "Happiness Writes White," I think you'll know why people say this to me. I don't feel like elaborating on that point, so if you're ultra curious, utilize iTunes.

I have to admit, I'm probably happier now than I've ever been. I have a good job that I can leave at work. I like my puppy. I love my ladyfriend. My brother is back in the country and seems very satisfied with his life. My sister got on the homecoming court and isn't nearly as scary to talk to as she was six months ago. My mom got a new puppy that actually requires her to get out of her chair more than twice a day (just kidding mom). My dad acts like a giddy, fully-clothed 19 year old now instead of the temperamental scary dude in tighty whities I grew up with. So yeah, I'm happy. But to say I will no longer be entertaining because I'm happy is absurd. Happiness breeds confidence, which in me breeds arrogance which in turn means I'll pretty much say whatever the hell I want. So don't worry My Irish Mick Bastard of a friend, I'll still vent.

My dear friends' wishes of miserable tidings got me to think—got me to reflect. So with that, I bring you several random thoughts:

-Why has Big League Chew never been a controversial product? Candy cigarettes became candy sticks which then got phased out completely. However it's okay to sell pouches of gum with a picture of a roided ballplayer and a puffy cheek? Where are the neo-Nazi suck the fun out of life parents who had too much fun when they were younger and now try to prevent the having of any fun by anyone ever societies on that one?

Taking that one step further why are cigarettes and chew the only vice people tried to candify? Why not a candy drink modeled after beer? We have root beer, but that doesn't count. Better yet, why not candy flavored condom treats. Just so the kids wouldn't use them for anything other than a delicious, albeit non-nutritious treat, I would hope the candy flavored condoms wouldn't prevent pregnancy or the spread of disease. Though if used for intercourse, inundating a woman's vajayjay with sugar might kill penie juice. I don't know…I'm no scientist.

-Here is why My Fiance (I got engaged this weekend, congratulate me) is the best teacher ever. In explaining to her fifth grade class how to write personal narratives she told them the narratives had to be interesting in order for her to like them; she needed to get emotionally invested. She gave them the following two examples and asked them which were more emotionally stimulating:

Example One: Harry goes to the grocery store. Harry leaves the grocery store and gets hit by a bus.

Example Two: Harry goes to the grocery store to buy milk and medicine for his three sick children. Harry leaves the grocery store and gets hit by a bus, which kills him instantly.

She told me that last Wednesday; I proposed Saturday. I don't think it's a coincidence.

-I may have mentioned this before, but for those new to my awesome blog, here is how I vote in Presidential elections: I keep a running tally of political bumper stickers from cars that annoy me (cut me off, drive too slow, have a generally unfavorable fella behind the wheel, etc) and vote for whatever candidate's supporters annoys me the least. I find this method works because voting for president (I will capitalize that title when it deserves to be capitalized) in Iowa, much to the chagrin of high school teachers, P Diddy, and famous actors who we think are smart because THEY CAN ACT everywhere, is pointless. For the upcoming elections/primaries, here are the current results. Numbers represent the amount of bad drivers found:

Obama-3 votes
Edwards-2 votes
Jesus Christ-1 vote
Bush/Cheney-1 vote

I realize this isn't a flawless method for primary decision making as Dennis Gucinich's (I'm not checking the spelling) supporters can't drive, and by default, any candidate who no one supports can't possibly upset me on the interstate. Also, Giuliani is also disqualified for the following two reasons, ranked in order of despicability:

1) He's a Yankee fan.
2) He milked a national tragedy for his own personal gain.

And as cute as I think it is for a little girl to be running for President, I can't possibly vote for a woman who found out her husband dipped a cigar into a (maybe candy condomed?) hoo-ha and did not dramatically kick him out of the house. Instead of getting a You Tube video of epic proportions with Lincoln's bedroom and Taft's tub lying on the White House lawn we have, "I stand by my husband. We married for the sake of convenience and power anyway; it would be hypocritical for me to leave this loveless marriage now."

-Even though I'm not voting for Obama at the moment (my Dad breathed a sigh of relief while my brother swore at me), I am not racist. I learned this last week. I thought I might be. Here's some much needed backstory with superfluous details that you all love so: When I worked for Big Red, I managed a team of warehouse workers in partnership with another supervisor. When I first started, I had an excellent partner. He helped me learn the job, he taught me a lot, and he and I remain close to this day. When he left to go to the day shift, I got a new partner. She was a short non-white, obese woman whose main goal in life was to milk the fact she was non-white while at the same time doing absolutely nothing productive for her employer. I know this because she was an awful, terrible person and my speculation yields fact. While I was doing all the work she sat and talked on her cellphone in a faraway office, with the door closed, hiding from people who might ask her, "Hey FatCow-why aren't you doing work? Why are you in this office? Why is the door closed? Why are the lights off? Why did you not complete a mandatory self-review that EVERYONE IN THE COMPANY KNEW WAS DUE?"

To top it off, she then acted like she knew everything about anything, which was in fact, the opposite of reality. And without saying what type of non-white this particular person is/was I can say that working with her for thirteen months left a very bad stereotyped taste in my mouth against her kind. That's right, her kind. Every time I saw someone of this particular persuasion in a mall, a bus stop, or a fried chicken restaurant talking on their cell phone, loud and obnoxiously, followed with a high-pitched shriek of a giggle, I thought of FatCow and how she inexplicably kept her job for thirteen months and accomplished literally nothing. Actually, how she kept her job was quite explicable, my supervisor at the time was much more worried about performing fellatio on people that could promote him, rather than actually managing his team. Then, when I tell him he didn't do a very good job firing FatCow he comes up with the excuse, "Well it took a long time to get the ball rolling," instead of admitting, "Well you work the weekend night shift and in order for me to get any sort of concrete evidence of her performance and verify the ineptitude that every person she works with speaks of, I would have to work on a Saturday or a Sunday, and I like football. I did my best having one conversation with her a month."

This brings me to last week. I completed training for my new job where I worked in a team of six. On my team of six there was another short non-white, obese woman who went out of her way to do nothing. When we would break for team activities, she would disappear, every single time. This non-white woman was a different non-white than FatCow. To top it off, the worst person in the class by far, was a white male, not obese, but with a little pudge—just like me! In addition a woman of the same non-whiteness as FatCow and I had a very nice talk one day at lunch, which brought me to the following realization: . I don't dislike certain types of people. I have a big enough heart to dislike all kinds of people, even those just like me.



I think I'm done ranting now. I intended to have several random thoughts but instead it became a few big rants. But let this be a lesson to everyone, people can be perfectly content and happy and still be bitter. That's life.