Thursday Thoughts

Tiny Thursday Thought

November 5, 2020

Fear not, favorite fans! There was a thought had this Thursday! 

Let’s make moving more simple and sell all our belongings along with our houses. 

When I pitched this idea to The Husband, he said “People already do that.” No, no. I mean leave everything. Clothing, guitars, shampoo, government IDs, student loan debt, rusted pennies, etc. 

Imagine living in a world free of moving boxes. Never needing to stress about the ultra-sticky, sharp packing tape. Sure, you may be missing some of your favorite things. Perhaps it’s time to end your baseball card collection. But stop being so negative! I have created a list of all the positives so you can stop telling me this is a bad idea:

  1. It will cut down on wasteful spending.

Would you like to start saving for retirement? Or a house? Or a PONY? Let me help you. If you stop purchasing unnecessary items like hoverboards, dozens of black leggings, and food, you will be able to save between $5 and $7,236 a month. It’s basic math. If you knew you couldn’t take it with you, would you really purchase that non-holey pair of socks? I think not. 

  1. It would make moving suck infinitely less. 

You could just get on your feet and go! I’d say vehicle, but you had to sell that too. Sorry.

  1. Because I said so. 

You really can’t argue with this fact. They even made an entire movie about this. Mandy Moore and Diane Keaton carried that script on their backs. Go watch it. I dare you. 

This is how I imagine the new Zillow listings:

Welcome to Our Cozy Home! This beautiful dwelling space currently belongs to Pam and Jim. They wear a size small or medium in t-shirts and don’t believe in jeans. Their hobbies include fishing, poorly baking boxed cake mixes, and sniffing exotic candles. Oh, and the house is brown. Come tour today! 

Please make this happen for me, as I am currently drowning in U-Haul boxes. I shouldn’t have to live like this. Think of the children! 

Random Ramblings

Bird Box Nightmare

October 31, 2020

As you may know, I never let a man tell me what to do. Especially not when he’s right. So when The Husband told me I shouldn’t watch Bird Box, I swiftly climbed on the couch and pressed play. 

For anyone who hasn’t seen the beautiful film, here’s a brief synopsis: the once fresh, safe, outdoor air has become contaminated. Anyone who steps or even looks outside will see something that makes them say terrifying things and jump out of windows. There are guns, blindfolds, and a super pissed off John Malkovich. Creepy people try to make everyone else look at the evil monster demons because “it’s so beautiful.” Sandra Bullock feels a lot of feelings. The birds save some people. The End! 

I know I greatly played down the fear factor, but this movie messed. me. up. I couldn’t go outside alone for a few days. I contemplated purchasing a bird. But I managed to suffer through many sleepless nights and eventually thought I was in the clear. I had survived.

Until months later, when the Box managed to infiltrate my slumbering mind.

My dream began mid-post-apocalypse. I had somehow survived the craziness, and The Husband and I were living our “new normal.” Businesses were being run by all the creepy people who were able to safely walk outside. 

On a beautiful Tuesday morning, I decide I deserve a new car. The Husband and I drive (blindfolded, of course), to the nearest dealership. I am finally going to get the Porsche Cayenne. Life is good. 

Our salesperson is very helpful, but his main goal is to get us to take off our blindfolds. “Don’t you want to see the car before you purchase it? How are you supposed to drive while blindfolded?” All good questions, sir, but you won’t be tricking us today! We purchase the car sight unseen at just a little above sticker price. 

We drive off happily. Mission accomplished! 

That is, until I have a major hankering for soup. Not canned soup. Restaurant soup. Preferably served in a bowl of bread, along with a side of bread. 

We head to The Cheesecake Factory, where we are seated outside. Our waiter is so friendly, but keeps saying things like “Oh you want the soup du jour? I would be glad to show you on the menu. Just remove your blindfold…” and “Please look at the soup. It’s so beautiful!”

But we remain strong and blindfolded. Lunch will not be the end of us! We tip generously and make our way safely back to my Porsche. Just as I open the car door, I hear a scream. 

“Husband? Husband?!” I called out, but to no avail. I have no choice. I rip off my blindfold, prepared to save The Husband from all things scary. 

But…nothing is there. No car, no Husband, no Cheesecake Factory. I am all alone on a dirt road. The End! 

Anyway, I’m doing well. Thanks for asking. 

Happy Halloween, my happy halloweenies ❤️

Thursday Thoughts

Happy Halloween Eve Eve, Haunted Humans!

October 29, 2020

It’s the third spookiest day of the year, and I am ready to think some spooo000oooo0000ky thoughts!

  1. Why are houses always haunted by evil demon boys named Seth?

Beverly and her husband, Bastille, are looking for a house with character. Perhaps a Victorian home in the middle of Kansas. No neighbors. Stain glass windows. A basement for their mini fridge. The usual. Do they even think to ask the realtor if there’s a possibility that the home is haunted? No, because they are too excited about the secret garden in the backyard! OF COURSE your house is haunted, Beverly and Bastille. You did this to yourselves. You two are about to end up on the Discovery Channel, talking about how Evil Demon Boy Seth wants you dead. 

But this isn’t the kind of haunting I’m afraid of. No, I’m afraid of the haunting in the suburbs. In the unexpected, newly remodeled homes. These are the places that are occupied by friendly neighborhood ghosts named Joe. He is not interested in murdering you in your sleep, terrorizing your family, and making your dolls talk. Ghost Joe just wants to enjoy his afterlife. To do so, he is going to need your remote. That’s right. You will be watching a lifelong marathon of The Real Housewives. Of. Every. City. And you better have a good chunk of money saved, because Ghost Joe will be ordering takeout three times a day. Now you are running a free bed and breakfast. That’s the real nightmare. 

  1. It should be a legal requirement to watch scary movies/shows with subtitles

I’m not a big fan of scary things. Ghost movies I watched years ago haunt my dreams. I can’t look at a mirror in the dark for fear of Bloody Mary finding me. Unfortunately, the only thing I hate more than being scared is being left out. I need to know what happens! Have no fear, self, for there is a solution! I can now enjoy scary things from the comfort of my own home with subtitles. [muffled screams] [loud clanging] [tense music]  not only prepare me for the horrors that are about to occur, but they also bring laughter and enjoyment. I want you all to experience this. Please, turn on your subtitles or pay a hefty fine. Thank you. 

  1. Why do people in horror movies always feel the need to investigate?

I understand these people might not realize they are in a horror movie; HOWEVER, there is no reason ever, ever, ever to go upstairs when you hear suspicious footsteps. 

Beautiful, naive wife: *hears loud thud* “Franklin, is that you?” *waits super patiently for half a second* “Franklin? What are you doing home so early?”

The rest of us: “IT ISN’T FRANKLIN. GET OUT OF THE HOUSE.”

Beautiful, naive wife: Let me just go upstairs to investigate.

Look, lady. We have this super awesome device that allows us to talk to our family and friends without ever needing to go upstairs. I call mine Siri, but others might go by different names, like Greta or Ollie. Just as easily as texting “Dinner is ready!” you could ask, “Hey, are you being really loud upstairs, or is there a murderer in the house?” 

  1. Why are there no movies about things adults are actually afraid of? 

I’m not saying I want to be chased by a weapon-wielding madman, but that is not the thought that keeps me up at night. My real fears would make a much more terrifying film. 

-Nina Dobrev forgets to take the trash out on trash night. Bags fill the can to the brim. There is nowhere else to place her garbage. What will she do? How will she survive the week? Spoiler alert: she ends up drowning in the filth. 

-Richard Gere goes to Costco and decides he needs several boxes of frozen meats. After pushing through crowds of angry, sample mobs, he finally arrives back home. He whistles proudly to himself until he realizes he made a terrible mistake: the freezer is already full of several boxes of frozen meats. He has a choice to make: eat as much as he can right now, or let it all rot on his counter. Good luck, Richard. 

Now that we are all sufficiently terrified, I must go eat copious amounts of pre-Halloween candy. Stay spooky, species ❤️

Thursday Thoughts

Thoughts on Thoughts on Thoughts

October 22, 2020

How is it still Not Friday? This day somehow feels like four days in one. Whose idea was this? Have no fear,  for I have thoughts. They are very important. Pull up a chair/couch/standing desk and make yourself at home. Philosophy Philliam is here! 

  1. What do people really mean when they say “make yourself at home” ??? 

Do they know how I live at home? Okay, Alice from Accounting, I will make myself at home. First, I am going to need the remote, a pair of sweatpants, and three party-sized boxes of Cheez-Its. No, we won’t be getting any work done today. This is my safe space. You may leave now. 

  1. Are cats just extremely evolved dogs? 

I know what I’m about to say may upset some people, but just hear me out. Cats and dogs are very similar. They both like to eat. They both sometimes snuggle and sometimes viciously attack. They both hate earthquakes. But they have one very big difference: levels of neediness. 

Let’s just say you want to take a weeklong cruise to Jamaica. If you have a cat, all you have to do is leave Fluffy some food, tell her you love her, and ask your neighbor to scoop the litter box once. Off you go! Life is GOOD! 

Now, let’s say you want me to go to Jamaica with you. I would love to, but now I have to send my dogs to a daycare that charges more than daycare for humans. I have to separate their food into single servings. I have to pack toys, bones, treats, and tell them I love them at LEAST 4 or 5 times. 

Do you need more proof? 

Dogs love cats. Cats hate dogs. That’s obviously because dogs are hopeful for their evolved futures, while cats hate to be reminded of their past embarrassing actions. 

Cats can jump high. EVOLUTION. If you’re not convinced, I don’t know what to tell you. 

  1. We need to create a voice box that changes all annoying sounds to something more pleasant. 

I’m so sorry to turn this into a personal attack, Fran Drescher, but it needs to happen. Dog barking? Have no fear. With the Magical Annoying Sound Fixer 9000 (patent pending), you will soon be hearing a relaxing waterfall. Baby crying? That could be Gilbert Gottfried reading a bedtime story. Tired of hearing Kenny G playing in every elevator? Don’t reach for your headphones. Reach for the Magical Annoying Sound Fixer 9000, and you will never have to hear him again! 

Unfortunately, no one has created a rechargeable battery pack for humans yet. I have waited two whole weeks for CHANGE, but it has not come. I will be suffering from a shortage of thoughts until the scientists start focusing on what really matters. Thank you for understanding, and thank you for attending my NONSENSE Talk. There are refreshments in the lobby. Due to unforeseen circumstances, we are all out of Cheez-Its. 

Regards of neither warm nor best nature,

Philosophy Philliam

Sunday Shorts

Assistance Required

October 18, 2020

How often do normal people eat tacos? 

When prepping our weekly menu, I realized I serve my family tacos quite frequently. Tired? Tacos. Tuesday? Tacos. Troubled? Tacos. I am thankful for tacos, but I am most thankful for a husband who has almost as much of a taste for tacos as I.

 Am I feeding my family appropriately? Please respond.

Thursday Thoughts

IS IT ALREADY NOT FRIDAY AGAIN?

October 15, 2020

IS IT ALREADY NOT FRIDAY AGAIN?

How often does this happen? Too often, I think. I  was thinking some other things and have decided to share them with you, my very large audience. 

  1. All clumsy people should be sent to space immediately! 

Not as a punishment or anything, but we could really use a lack of gravity. I have recently broken 2 bowls, a soap dish, and several promises. I would love to be able to shop at Pottery Barn (#ad), but I just know all those hundred dollar trinkets don’t stand a chance at a long life in my home. If I were in space, I would never fall or fumble. I would simply float around with all my expensive crockery without a care in the world. I deserve this. 

  1. Why can’t we cry over spilt milk? 

Is this a formal rule? A law? A mere suggestion?  Look, I am trying to raise my daughter right. I have explained to her the dangers of watching R-rated movies, I have not yet let her touch fire, and I encourage her to not swallow rocks. Rocks are friends, not food! 

But even I, the world’s most perfect mother, struggle to explain why she isn’t allowed to cry over spilt milk. Spill some water? Feel free to bawl your eyes out, kid. Spill some soup? That’s how rivers were made. Best practice is to check which liquid has been spilled before crying, just to avoid any dicey situations. 

I’m not sure if this applies to coconut milk. Soy? Flaxseed? OAT? And how are we supposed to hold back our tears? Who created this lawless law?! I would like to speak to the manager! 

  1. Why is breakfast so special?

You can eat these specified foods at any time of the day and be cool. Normal morning breakfast. Brunch. Brinner. Yes, please! But Lord help you if you want to eat dinner foods for breakfast. You want a sandwich? Best be putting some eggs and/or bacon on that bad boy, unless you want everyone to know you’re a PSYCHOPATH. 

Now, let’s just say you had a glorious slumber and wake up craving pie. No one will judge you. That’s BREAKFAST. Whether it’s 9 a.m. or 9 p.m, you are free to enjoy your little slice of heaven. But let’s just say you have finished your dinner (consisting of strictly dinner foods today) and are now craving a pancake. Slow your roll, man. Your treat will have to wait until the sun rises. Pancakes have never been and will never be dessert! 

  1. Would Gordon Ramsay think I’m an idiot sandwich? 

Let’s look at the facts: 

-I once burned top ramen. You can’t judge me. It’s an easy mistake to make. 

-I only know what creme fraiche is because of South Park. Fine, I don’t fully understand. It goes in eggs? On pie? So…it’s a breakfast food? 

-I sometimes (often…) mistake cumin for cinnamon. They both start with C. They are both brown. It really isn’t my fault. 

The jury’s out on this one. Perhaps Gordon Ramsay would  consider me to be something a bit lighter, like an idiot salad. 

  1. If I had unlimited funds, I would hire a choir to follow me around and reiterate everything I say in song form. 

Me, to a nice employee at Bed, Bath, and Beyond: “Um, excuse me? Where do you guys keep your hot pink bath towels? I looked all over the kitchen section but…”

Choir: “But she still hasn’t found 

What she’s looking for

But she still hasn’t found 

What she’s looking for.”

Not only will this bring endless entertainment and joy, but it will also create jobs for unemployed artists. I will hire Coco Chanel (Reese Witherspoon’s dog, of course) and former rapper Vanilla Ice (primarily for backstage work) as well as a few other misfits. It’ll be a real Sister Act situation. 

Unfortunately, in order to get my unlimited funds, unlimited entertainment, and unlimited joy, I will need to marry rich. Please tell the husband I will miss him. Mr. Google is calling my name…

That’s all, folks! It’s time for me to devour some lunch foods at lunch time. I’ve just never been fancy enough for brunch. A virgin screwdriver is just orange juice, after all. 

See you next Not Friday! But not the immediate next one. Or the second one. Or the one after that. 

Random Ramblings

Bedtime Stories

October 13, 2020

One day, my once wonderfully okay sleeper decided she no longer needed naps. Worried about both our sanities, I decided to spend an exorbitant amount on a children’s app called Moshi. 

At first glance, Moshi is sweet and adorable, full of relaxing music and comforting stories. At second glance, it is a little app of horrors. 

There are many stories to choose from. Stories about mermaids, pandas, and elephants. They all seem so cute and innocent, so I assume it’s not possible to choose incorrectly. 

***Major spoilers ahead***

I decide on a story called Morgan’s Lighthouse Lullaby. I like lullabies. I like lighthouses. I like people named Morgan. What could go wrong? 

The story is read by a lady with a beautiful British accent. She describes the lighthouse in great, rhyming detail. Morgan’s life sounds lovely, until we realize that he is, and I quote, “the world’s most lonely lighthouse keeper.” The poor guy has no days off. He is forced to work in his lighthouse day in and day out, never getting to enjoy the beauty of the world. Capitalism, am I right? 

One day, as he is sulking outside his lighted house, a bird comes up to him, and, I loosely translate, “Yo, what’s your deal?” Morgan immediately breaks down and tells this bird, whose name is Tiki (!!!!T I K I!!!!), about his woes. Instead of being scared off by Morgan’s honesty and troubles, Tiki decides to give Morgan the week off. He promises to man the lighthouse, because how hard could it possibly be? Instead of questioning Tiki’s intentions, strength, or skills, Morgan agrees to this arrangement and nopes right on out of there. He gets in his boat and travels to several random wonders of the world. People recognize Morgan and thank him for his service to the community. Morgan feels happy. I feel happy for Morgan. There is still 15 minutes left of the story. 

Once Morgan decides he’s been praised for his efforts enough, he begins his journey home. He is tired from all the excitement, but not to worry. He just knows Tiki is doing a bang-up job at the lighthouse. 

All of a sudden, a storm strikes! Morgan forges on but soon realizes the light that was once leading him home is no longer visible. “Maybe Tiki fell asleep or flew off in a huff,” Morgan wonders.

Don’t worry, Morgan, Tiki is still there! He is just a poor, weak bird, trying with all his might to continue winding the lamp. He’s doing his very best, but it’s just not good enough. Just as Morgan is about to give up, Tiki remembers he has some bird friends and whistles for them to come help. They drop everything and come to Tiki’s rescue. Together, they are able to wind the lamp, just as Morgan is about to crash his tiny boat!

Morgan gets back home. Tiki takes all the credit for Morgan narrowly avoiding death. They all smile and laugh. Life is good. The birds tell Morgan they will visit him. The end! 

I am at the edge of my literal seat, but my baby conked. 10/10 would recommend. Not all the stories are this intense, but this is my daughter’s favorite one. I bet she will grow up with a Criminal Minds obsession. Maybe one day she will get to enjoy the antics of Agent Morgan and the gang, but for now, she must settle for Moshi Morgan, Lighthouse Keeper Extraordinaire.