Even Owls Enjoy Baseball Games

Mike took me to a Detroit Tigers game for my birthday and we had kick ass seats in the club type place where there was food and alcohol and none of the unwashed masses that you encounter in the bleacher seats.

Wisenheim came along, because he had been watching the baseball with us for months, and wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

He liked the pop more than anything, even though it was Pepsi. He also liked my beer, but I forgot to capture the moment. SORRY.

Anyway, the Tigers won, it was a glorious night, and we took a stuffed owl puppet to a baseball game in downtown Detroit. We win the day.

Peanut Butter is Fallible, As it Turns Out

I love peanut butter. Jif, though. Not Skippy, not the store brand, and certainly not that crap natural, healthy kind. Gross. I love nothing more than a peanut butter sandwich. Or the Tagalong Girl Scout Cookies. Or Thai peanut dip. REESE'S PEANUT BUTTER CUPS. Or apples and peanut butter...

I LOVE peanut butter, you guys. But my tolerance for sweets has changed. I don't eat candy like I used to. In fact, I can only eat one Reese's Peanut Butter Cup at a time. I save the other one for later. Seriously. And I have to be sure that there is plenty of water around.

I'm like, old and shit.

Plus, since I don't buy the natural, healthy peanut butter, I try to make up for it elsewhere. Like not buying candy.

But when I was having the shit day of all shit days, and I saw Twix Peanut Butter in the little convenience store, it was a race to the cash register. I couldn't believe my good luck! Peanut butter will solve my shit day!

That afternoon, while "working," I diligently ate my lunch at my desk. I waited until the boringest part of the afternoon - 3:30. I slowly unwrapped that Twix like Charlie Fucking Bucket, hoping for a Golden Ticket.

Let me be the first one to tell you: Twix Peanut Butter is ridiculously inferior to Twix original.

It was SO DISAPPOINTING.

Booooooooooooooooooooo!

First off, the cookie part was chocolate. Now, I know that complaining about the presence of chocolate may seem sacrilegious, but I am telling you that it was WRONG. Everything about the chocolate cookie was wrong. It wasn't Twix.

Then, peanut butter. It was... fine. It wasn't Jif, that's for damn sure.

Then, caram... THERE WAS NO CARAMEL.

Why? Why would they remove the caramel? It's the best part! I never let myself have candy bars, and when a blue moon DOES materialize in the sky, I want my candy bar to be amazing, not a waste of calories! BOOOOOOOOOO!

I am scarred.

Thirty-One

So it was my birthday. I'm 31 now, no big whoop. I had to share the best t-shirt ever with you (okay, maybe it's not THE best, as it doesn't have a dinosaur on it, but still. It's pretty awesome), courtesy of Mike's mom:

IT GLOWS IN THE DARK, YOU GUYS. Isn't the monster so cute? And he has cookies! AND he implies that there are MOAR COOKIES. The availability of cookies in the "dark side" is an overwhelmingly positive trait.

Do you think that there are also some cupcakes?

This is Why We I Can't Have Nice Things

After reading about my laptop's destruction, were you wondering if it was possible that I could be any more idiotic? Well, let me tell you. It most definitely IS possible.

Not what a tire should look like.

This is one of the front tires on my car. Those are steel wires. Sticking out of the tire. Apparently, this is not a good thing.

Also not a good thing? Spending your morning at Belle Fucking Tire as they replaced the original tires with a brand you've never heard of: Hankook. Hankook?

Yes, Hankook.

Mike and my dad have now formed a two-man army against me and my idiocy. Every week, I hear from at least one of them about the status of my last oil change, fluid levels, and windshield wipers. And... it turns out that I need the support.

I shouldn't be allowed to own a car, is what I'm saying.

Although, thanks to their meddling, I will get an oil change this week, and I didn't go 8,000 miles since the last one! Not this time!

Sigh.

21 versus 31

I am turning 31 years old in two days, and I think it's... kind of funny. I sure as hell don't feel 31, but then again, what is a 31 year-old supposed to feel like? I know that I am a completely different person than I was at 21, but I wonder how many differences have popped up in the past ten years. Let's compare, shall we?

A Typical Week
21: Go to the bar 5-6 times a week
31: Go to the gym 5-6 times a week

Nighttime Routine
21: Fall into bed at 3 a.m. after studying, partying, or bar-hopping
31: Wash face, brush teeth, use night cream. At 9:30 p.m.

Shopping for Groceries
21: Cart full of ramen noodles
31: Cart full of ramen noodles and fresh produce

Football Saturday Routine
21: Wake up, drink, go to game, go to party, drink
31: Wake up, go to gym, watch football from comfort of own couch, drink

Leisure Time
21: Read
31: Read

Tolerance for Alcohol
21: Four beers, after which I would throw up.
31: Four beers, after which I turn into a mean drunk.

Need for Sleep
21: Six hours, tops
31: Need eight hours, get six

Restaurant Choices
21: Would try nothing new
31: Can't believe I lived for over 21 years without trying sushi

Work
21: The only way to pay for beer
31: The only way to pay my car insurance

Love
21: If it comes along
31: Can't live without

Should I Be Worried?

Me: Merrick's in Brazil right now, isn't that cool?
BF: That's a non-extradition country.
Me: How do you know that?
BF: Might come in handy someday.

I Remember the First One. Does That Make Me Old?

Do people still buy these?

Did You Get Free Cheerios in the Mail? Oh. I Did.

I think that I've mentioned how I love to sign up for free stuff, right? Well, one of the most fun things about this insane quirk of mine is that things tend to take more than a few days to arrive. Sometimes the free bounty takes weeks. Months! And then I forget that I was going to get said treat in the mail, and when it arrives, the day becomes glorious!

And I can't even tell you how many fancy tampons I've received. SO MANY TAMPONS, you guys.

But it gets better (as if free tampons isn't the best it could ever get)!

Sometime last August, I discovered that Ann Arbor is one kick ass place to be on one's birthday. I got free meals, free coffee, free cupcakes, free candles. Free tea, free bagels, and Lord knows what else. Well, I must have signed up for some of the birthday clubs too late, because I have no fewer than ten emails in my inbox for MOAR FREE SHIT.

-Free burger at Red Robin
-Free coffee at Caribou
-Free burger at Ruby Tuesday
-Free dessert at Macaroni Grill
-Free ice cream at Coldstone
-$10 gift certificate to World Market
-Gift cards to The Limited, Ann Taylor, Banana Republic, and other yuppie stores that I like

Basically, I've never been sad for a birthday, even as I've breached thirty. Birthdays are fun! They are a new beginning, a new start, a new way to count one's blessings, blah, blah, etc.

Oh, and FREE SHIT.

Let's Learn About One of My Pet Peeves!

Of which I have many.

Today, and many other days, one of my pet peeves really smacked me in the face.

I'm inching along in the parking garage, trying to find a spot that isn't on the freaking roof - which is made all the more difficult because there is construction going on, and half of the spots are inaccessible, making me more and more irate as I have to skip the third level altogether for lack of an available spot - and lo! I see one! Just past that big ass SUV...

It's like a beacon. It's like light is shining down. I get ready to pull into the spot, thrilled that I won't be up on the roof of the garage, and...

It's a FUCKING MAZDA MIATA.

Goddamn stupid mini cars, ruining everyone's lives. GOD.

I mean, LOOK AT IT. It's a fucking Lego car.
That driver? Is a tool.

Bossypants by Tina Fey

God, I love Tina Fey.

I waited weeks and weeks for this book to become available to me at the damn library, and now that I have it, I don't want to give it back. I want to hug it and squeeze it and love it forever. And then read it over and over again. It's a book like this that makes me reconsider my self-imposed book buying ban.

Reasons I love this book:

~It's a fast read. There are stories and anecdotes galore, and the spaces are filled in with hilarious self-loathing. It's amazing.

~It's a memoir that won't leave you wishing you were dead. (See my review of Blood, Bones, and Butter.)

~If you watch 30 Rock or watched SNL when it was tolerable (when Tina was the head writer) you'll love the stories. YOU WILL LOVE THEM.

~You get to learn about all that went on behind the scenes during the last Presidential race, i.e., her Sarah Palin impression, and why she was actually hesitant to do it.

~She talks about her life as a mother and refers to having a child as "living with a drunk midget."

That's GOLD, you guys.