things i'm jamming…

So, I wanted to blog, but I had nothing to blog about.  I feel like many bloggers find themselves in this perplexing situation, or not.  I have been blogging for about 3 weeks so obviously I am a wise sage of sorts.  I remembered my posse member, mandi g., had told me of a website that generated blog questions for you to answer if ye olde quill is running dry.  Now for all of you blog purists who think this is a sell out, I say to you “get a life if you care about blogging this much.”  Now, back to the matter at hand.  The question selected for me was “What’s the longest you’ve maintained a ruse before others found out?”.  Luckily, I have many examples of this from my previous life in elementary school as a compulsive liar.  I selected the most ridiculous 2 to share with you fine people tonight.

#1 I lied my way to the eye doctor

too soon?

Many of you might remember the yearly eye tests during elementary school.  You might not and my school might have been an oddity for doing this.  If that’s the case, don’t burst my bubble.  Now, let me say this.  I have had a life long obsession with eyeglasses.  I love them.  Their smartiness (intellect, not candy), their “I normally wear contacts but my glasses are my casual look”-ness, all of it.  I love them.  If you are a friend of mine (or a stranger for that matter) and you have glasses, I have at one time or another tried them on for an awkwardly long session.  I don’t care about the headache or the change in depth perception while they are on my face.  I just care that I elevated my assumed IQ points for a brief moment in time.  I knew this even as a child in 1st grade, and that’s when I put my plan into action.  You might be saying to yourself, “Brittany, I just can’t believe someone as sweet as you was a compulsive liar!”.  Well, first of all, thank you.  You’re too kind.  Also, I’ve graduated to compulsive assumer as demonstrated in that previous sentence.  Don’t believe me?  Read how creepy I was.  As I stood in line to cover one of my eyes and read that chart, my mind started plotting.  I knew that I couldn’t just flounder my way through this.  They would spot me straight off.  I had to be sneaky.  I had to be a brain ninja (“you’re stupid like your father.”) and pull a fast on.  I got up to front of the line and knew it was now or never.  I read the chart, but enacted a subtle switch.  Instead of V’s, I spotted U’s.  Instead of Z’s, I named S’s. And so on and so on.  They gave me a slip and I was off to the eye doctor with my mother.  I was so close to getting a pair of spectacles, I could taste it.  And guess what?  As I sat on that weird, crinkly paper and smelled the antiseptic, I chickened out.  The pressure was just too much.  I was sent home crying in shame.  Not my proudest moment.  Still don’t have glasses, but I’m not giving up hope.  Maybe I’ll get a pair and pop out the lenses.  No one will know.  I mean…

#2 I switched schools and decided to have a British accent

classic...

There’s not much I can say about this one.  It’s true.  In 6th grade, I changed schools and I thought my Odyssey of the Mind caliber British accent could hold up to the scrutiny of twenty five 11 year olds.  Let’s just say this ruse only lasted about 2 and 1/2 hours.  Luckily this was barely middle school, so the memory span lasted only about a day and then some kid busted it in the car pool lane and I was old news.  But the memory haunts me and whenever I think about it I cringe in agony at how utterly embarrassing this was/have utter regret that I was not on the Truman Show and could rewind and watch that back. 

Anyone else stage a ruse only to be embarrassingly found out?  Tell me.

So this Saturday night I checked something off my “bucket list” (yes, I just used that reference and no, I am not a 55 year old housewife).  I saw the one (or two), the only (or both)…FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS.

The guys...

  Me and a few of the besties got all jazzed up (especially PJ, shout out to the Easter shirt) and took a little trip down to the FOX to see New Zealand’s fourth most popular folk parody duo.  Was it everything I had ever hoped for?  It was more, my friends.  I don’t think I stopped smiling/laughing/being the annoying person who sings along for the enitre show as well as the two encores.  When Bret potentially flung sweat droplets our way as he ran right by us on his way out of the show I thought, “Life can’t get much better”. 

Now, of course as is customary, whenever you see someone in concert you immediately start a roller coaster ride of re-obsession (word? don’t care) with them.  As for me, I rekindled my sweet love for my favorite ying to Bret’s yang friendship medallion, Jemaine Clement.  Whether it’s his David Bowie impersonation, his “ogre that works in a library”-ness, or his “foolish sucka” take on life, Jemaine is my boo.  My heart breaks everytime I think that the HBO series is over.  So to pour one out for my homies, I leave you with this gem…gone too soon…too…soon…

p.s. check out bret’s hair…he had hair gel even then… 

So I just started a new class yesterday and I have quite an interesting instructor.  Her background is a mystery, but one thing’s for sure.  Her avatar would be dressed in Renaissance clothing.

My loose interpretation...

  For those of you out there who have ever come into contact with someone like that, you know exactly what I mean.  I digress, back to my story.  So I was sitting in class taking a personality test (extroverted, people person) while my teacher was explaining her late work policy.  Her exacts words were, “I don’t care what your excuse is.  If you turn in late work, ‘Ya fired’!”  Now you might be saying to yourself, “Brittany, that catchphrase sounds eerily familiar.”  Well, if you fashioned a time machine out of beer cans and banana peels and set the date for Y2K, you would be watching an episode of “the apprentice” and watching some poor yuppie get the boot.  Yes, that’s right folks.  My teacher referenced “the apprentice”.  As I sat through the rest of the class and thought about her poor, outdated choice of catchphrase, I found myself pondering the future.  What other outdated phrases might she use during this class?  I compiled a list.  Enjoy this trip down pop culture memory lane.

-”you are the weakest link, goodbye!”

-”show me the money!” (this would be reserved for positive feedback on test grades)

-”so what about this president clinton scandal, huh?”

-”who let the dog’s out?”

-”i’m bummed you guys, i thought brad and jen would last”

-”nancy kerrigan had it coming”

-”is that your final answer?”

I’m sure the actual phrases she will use will surpass these of my imagination, so I’ll keep you posted.

So Iam officially starting this “blog” (I already feel a little less independent as I’m sure this will consume my life) with a little ditty about the preferred 8th grade field trip method of transportation, the charter bus…

jealous?

things i love about buses:

1. small tv’s

They are a gem.  The distorted color, the jostle of the picture when you go over the smallest bump, and not to mention the positioning of the screens are priceless.  The latter of those would have to be my favorite aspect of the small tv.  No matter where you are sitting you can barely see it.  The best part is, with all the technological advances in the past 15 years, these have not changed at all.  When I say not at all, I mean not at all.

2. upholstery

Just because you are riding on a charter bus with 50-70 of your closest, most personal boundary ignoring friends doesn’t mean you can’t ride in style.  Every time I board a bus, it’s like Christmas morning wondering what pattern could be adorning my seat.  Could it be the classic grey and blue splatter paint design?  Or could it be a staple of mass transit, the animal print?  Or even the Miami hotel bedspread design?  I’m cool with whichever.  I’m a hip kind of girl and I can appreciate art when it smells musty.

3. no amount of Dramamine can help you

In my younger years, I could handle the obligatory bus ride.  Sitting backwards, trading copies of “NOW that’s what I call music”, playing M.A.S.H., and arguing about which guy in S Club 7 was the cutest was a cinch.  Seeing as I have not entered a charter bus since my senior trip to Orlando, my love light was rekindled this weekend on my way to Jasper, GA.  It was all doable until we started up mountain.  As the bus teetered over the edge of every curve, it was as if the bus driver was giving my inner ear the finger.  I have never wanted to kiss the ground so much, but since this is not normal social practice I decided to keep my cool points high and resist the temptation.

All in all, my weekend with the charter bus was an epic one.  I can only hope that it will be at least another 5 years until we meet again, American Motorcoach of Metro Atlanta.  Until then, adieu.