I Watched Every Minute of Sunday SportsBall*

Or: How Adding Feet to Something Makes it EVEN MORE AMAZING

*Let’s just agree that this is what the Super Bowl should be called. Actual bowls are not involved. More chicken wings are involved than bowls. Bowl-shaped stadiums are not worthy of event names.

OK, Internet. I have a confession to make. It may be hard for you to hear (or read)…but I just have to get it off my chest. Here we go.

I am not good at sports things.

I do not understand soccer. I do not understand tennis, Rugby is a mystery, and I think cricket is an insect. I barely understand hockey and baseball. I threw an entire party last year based around two concepts: I don’t understand football** and I wanted to impress a guy I liked***.
**What do you mean that yellow line isn’t real? It appears on my screen during EVERY GAME. My TV wouldn’t lie to me!
***This has worked out very well for me. I highly recommend this tactic. Mostly because I still TOTALLY like this guy, and he likes me back. I’ll tell you all about it later.

I know that in this modern era, this is a shameful thing to admit. But I’m being brave for you, Internet. Because something really important happened while I was watching sports.*****
*****Which I was totally doing again this year to impress the same guy. 

Guys. I watched someone win a design argument ON LIVE TV. And if you watched Sunday SportsBall, you did too. Let me explain:

Things don’t just pop into being in the world of entertainment. The things we see every day are the result of someone else’s brain-magic pumping out ideas and putting them down on paper.

Shark Creator could be a real job

In this blog dramatization of a story I made up in my head, the role of “shark creator” will be played by my doodle.

Someone legitimately sat down, considered what would be the best possible background for Katy Perry singing “California Girls” would be, and determined that singing beachballs and lip-syncing sharks with legs was the way to go. They not only had to sketch this idea out on paper, but more horrifyingly, they then undoubtedly had to present it to their peers and supervisors.

When one presents an idea to one's peers and supervisors, one is always about three times their size. Proportionality between humans varies based on situations, and has nothing to do with how much space was left on my doodle-post-it during this drawing.

When one presents an idea to one’s peers and supervisors, one is always about three times their size. Proportionality between humans varies based on situations, and has nothing to do with how much space was left on my doodle-post-it during this drawing.

Presenting creative concepts to a gathering of peers and supervisors is rough. And this person was presenting the concept of sharks with legs.******
******Coincidentally, this is how the apocalypse will actually happen. Forget about zombies. We’re seeing the future dance before us.

Creative genius can involve moments of harsh criticism.

Creative genius can involve moments of harsh criticism.

But the key to getting the creative ideas you believe in turned into reality is having a solid argument ready.

This is the best argument ever

Such as “you guys blew the budget for REAL sharks on building a shiny rolling lion.”

A good argument is really the only way to get your way. We all learned this as children.

I honestly can't remember who sang this song

After winning an argument, while crafting your creative masterpiece, it’s important to listen to songs verifying that you are, in fact, doin’ it your way.

This argument surely happened long before Sunday SportsBall actually took place. That means the poor inventor of these sharkian masterpieces was forced to suffer the silent ridicule and judgement of his or her peers every day until the mystical Half-Time show.

Lots of them, I'm sure. I was watching the commercials.

Lots of them, I’m sure. I was watching the commercials.

That’s when the magic went live:

Honestly, this whole thing was horrifying

The sharks eclipsed everyone, let’s be honest. No one saw Katy Perry. No one saw the girls in bikinis. The dancing trees are hardly worth mentioning, and the singing beachballs were basically just backup for the sharks.

And then the Internet responded.

Yes, the Internet has Favorite Things. The Internet is just as cool and popular as Oprah, guys,

Yes, the Internet has Favorite Things. The Internet is just as cool and popular as Oprah, guys,

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you win an argument AND get to design shark costumes with feet.

I hope this person received a massive trophy from his or her workplace.

I hope this person received a massive trophy from his or her workplace.

NOTE: This story is not even slightly based in fact. It’s just the only explanation I can come up with for how lip-syncing plush sharks with feet made it onto one of the most-watched television events in America.

In case you somehow missed it, or do not live in America, I’d like to introduce you to the stars of the Super Bowl:

This image is courtesy of mlive.com - Click to read just one of the many fabulous stories on the sharks. Specifically, Left Shark, hero of the Internet.

This image is courtesy of mlive.com – Click to read just one of the many fabulous stories on the sharks. Specifically, Left Shark, hero of the Internet.

I think I would understand sports so much more if there were more sharks involved.

It Really Has Nothing to Do with Sweden, Guys

Or: That One Time I Used the Internet to Actually Look Something Up*

*Did you know that the Internet is a great source of factual information?! It’s TRUE!

In case you somehow missed it, I have a cat.

Which is why everyone should be one

You don’t have to be old to be a cat lady! It’s equal opportunity!

She is an important part of my life. I’ve had her since I was 15. When I was 15**, I was not very good at doing things like “leaving the cat alone” and “not picking her up and snuggling her with every fiber of my being.”
**Also now. Still now. She’s just so cute

Kitty!

Kittykittykittykittykittykittykitty!

Some people have formed opinions regarding the fact that my cat shows me an equal level of obsessive attention.

I call them "Jen" and "Eric"

These are generic friends. I bet you wish you had generic friends to insert into blog posts. (I call them “Jen” and “Eric”)

When I was 15, this resulted in a modest level of curiosity. As an avid fan of The Muppets, I was relatively sure that “Stockholm Syndrome” meant that you had some form of speech impediment that made you talk like the Swedish Chef:

This is not what stockholm syndrome is

Bork bork bork! Hergy Blerghy Bork!
Click for source, because this is not a picture I took.

In fact, Stockholm Syndrome has nothing at all to do with chefs, and very little to do with Sweden. The term dates back to the 1973, when an armed robber strolled into a bank in Norrmalmstorg Square, in Stockholm, Sweden. (Click here to check out one of the many tellings of this story.) He took four hostages and made life wildly unpleasant for the police for several days.

Guns! In doodle land!

This is probably the most dangerous doodle I have ever drawn. Also, I only felt like drawing three hostages, because this is a generic example. 

While this was going on, observers noticed something super weird.

The world would be a really obvious place

If only all kidnappers, hostage takers, and generally terrible people were all this forthcoming.

The hostages were resistant to police, but companionable with their kidnapper. It doesn’t make a whole bunch of sense at first glance.

My gunman is so happy

In fact, it seems downright counter-intuitive

But when you look at things historically, it does seem a little more logical, if completely bleak.

But this one is!

Not all gunmen are so explanatory.

It doesn’t have much place on a humor blog.

DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME

Because yelling at someone with a gun is totally safe….if you’re a stick figure that I draw.

It’s a syndrome seen in kidnapped victims, hostages, and victims of abuse.

Sweden seems to be keeping positive, though.

It’s also given Stockholm a bad name, via association. Poor Stockholm.

It always confused me why people would regularly toss around a term that has such deep psychologically damaging implications.

Awww, and I wanted to fly

Anything is possible. Except spontaneous flight.

Especially when there’s obviously a much more rational explanation.

This was another whole post about my cat

She totally is. Especially if food is involved.

Yeah. That must be it.

Also, Here Is Why I Did Not Blog Yesterday:

Yep. Need glasses

Yep. Totally blind.

I had to go to the eye doctor. It was very time consuming***.
***Also, I probably took a nap. Maybe.

 

As an aside, Stockholm Syndrome is super serious, as is abuse and kidnapping. They don’t just happen to girls and women, either. If you happen to know someone who is, or might be, suffering from abuse, kidnapping, or other terrible things, here are some great resources to help:

And let’s all try to treat each other like human beings, ok?

How to Lose Friends and Alienate Your Loved Ones

Or: Why I Should Really Stop Moving so Much

Back in January, at the very fresh start of the new Year, I ceased to be the last single girl in my pride of ladyfriends. Two friends of mine conspired to bring me relationshipical bliss by introducing me to the man now known as Boyfriend.

Also: Thanks guys!

This is an accurate illustration of how we met. Except possibly pizza and bowling were involved. Possibly.

He’s the bee’s knees, folks.

And i lurv his whole him, internet

They’re the best knees, the bee’s knees that he is.

There are many stories about my adventures with Boyfriend, but today, I am only telling one. Today’s tale, sweet readers of the Internet, is about the time Boyfriend asked me to move in with him. It wouldn’t be much of a story if I said no. Not to ruin the ending or anything, but I said yes.

It's always better to quote Ghostbusters

Cats and dogs, living together y’all.

Those who know me know that I have moved frequently in my life for reasons ranging from “my parents are moving and I am a minor and their legal responsibility” to “I am bored and would like to try having adventures in a new city/state/geographic location.” So I’d like to say I’ve gotten good at moving by this point in my life.

Expert. Taping. It's a thing

Look at those labels! Look at that expert taping technique!

Nope.

How does the tape always disappear?

This is an accurate depiction of how my living space looks while I am moving.

What I have become skilled at is enlisting everyone I know in the moving process. My excellent friends are completely aware of my semi-routine nomadicism, but still come to my aid, lured by the promise of pizza and adult beverages*,
*Like extra large chocolate milkshakes and banana smoothies.

Also to keep the adult beverages flowing AFTER the fragile things have been moved

The important thing is to keep the pizza out of reach until the moving is complete.

This last move, however, happened without much planning**. Boyfriend and I had decided to live together, so obviously, that should begin immediately, right*?
No planning at all.
***Not when you own 8 million pounds of stuff.

So, with barely two weeks’ warning, I declared that my apartment’s contents would be emptied and relocated into the house-to-be-shared. This should not be a huge problem for a girl moving out of a one bedroom apartment.

Except that I am a 29 year old female American.

Which means I have so. Many. Things.

The "ALL THE THINGS" meme is the brainchild of Allie Brosh over at Hyperbole and a Half. Click to discover and applaud her awesomeness.

The “ALL THE THINGS” meme is the brainchild of Allie Brosh over at Hyperbole and a Half. Click to discover and applaud her awesomeness.

And with only two weeks’ notice, I could only gather**** three friends to tackle the movement of all my worldly possessions.
****Bribe, blackmail, and beg.

So Boyfriend’s family also came to help.

You heard me too, reader

You heard me, Doodle.

I had not yet done much packing.

Seriously, Panic.

PANIC!

Including his dad. On Father’s Day.

Yeah. Go on. Imagine in

Seriously.

Which is what happens when you move too often and don’t plan. So a general consensus has now been reached.

And I'm totally happy about iut

I’m never moving again.*****
*****Seriously. I have too many things.

 

Technology Is Starting to Ruin My Understanding of…Technology

Or: Why Using the Thing on the Computer that Fixes the other Things on the Computer Is Probably Making Me Dumber

Technology and I have a rocky, one-sided relationship. I need it (for controlling the air conditioner, which saves me from The South, and knowing all of the things Google can tell me. Plus, I used to use it for dating), but it can’t stand me.

Give technology the love it deserves

What? Don’t you hug your laptop?

When I went to college, I started my studies as a Computer Science major. By my logic, there was no way I could go wrong with something that has “computer” and “science” right in the title. It’ll be amazing*, I thought. It’ll be fun!
*Wrong.
Double wrong.

Ok, not really, but it's fun to think so, right?

This provides an illustrated guide to my pre-college Computer Science understanding.

What it actually was was a whole lot of math. And calculus.***
***Pure evil, masquerading as advanced math.

Unicorns have no place in math

I had very strong opinions regarding the idea of “imaginary numbers.” If they’;re imaginary, then I can imagine them any way I want.

So I went on to major in English.

English majors love books.

I express my feelings by hugging inanimate objects. You may have noticed.

The inner workings of computers became a growing world of continuous, easily breakable mystery.

#%$! blue screen

It’s only the Blue Screen of Misery because “Blue Screen of horrible data failure, swear words, disappointment and tears” didn’t fit.

Thankfully, there is a magic tool designed for people like me, who think computers crash out of spite. It pops up, runs diagnostics, and sometimes fixes the problem entirely – while I do nothing.

It makes me feel like a wizard.

And they were classy

Today’s brief history lesson: Prior to Harry Potter, y’all, costume wizard robes were traditionally covered in stars and moons, and involved pointy hats.

It is possibly the second-most amazing thing that my computer can do.****
****Besides Internet, obviously.

But it has also destroyed my scientific view of technology.

And pockets. Wizard-me is missing out on pockets

Science-me requires glasses to look smart.
Wizard-me clearly does not care about the importance of appearing intellectual.

That is why I will probably not be any help with Applooglesoft takes over the world.

It’s ok, though. I already have a plan for that.

I’m Not Prone To Hyperbole*, but in Any Other Era, I Would Probably be Dead

Or: Why the Wand Thingie in the Shower is the Greatest Invention in the World

*Yes, yes I am. Don’t let me lie to you like that.

It occurs to me on a remarkably regular basis that if I was living in another era (say, for example, Victorian times, when “pants” was a dirty word and people wore clothes with eighteen billion heavy layers), I would not survive, much less thrive. I’m a product of The Future, and I love it here.**

**Even though I’m still mysteriously lacking my flying car. I’m waiting, Google.

Don’t worry. I have a helpful example to share with you to demonstrate my very limited technological-survival time range.

We’ve previously discussed that I am not a morning person. I love sleeping with a deep, abiding passion, and I view the morning sun as my arch nemesis. Things are even worse when I have to get up before the sun has started to peek over the horizon.

Curtains are the best invention

For the purposes of this demonstration, let’s pretend that I don’t have blackout curtains that deny the sun the ability to enter my bedroom. Let’s pretend together.

If I have to get up before the sun, I’m forced to acknowledge that morning is not the sun’s fault, and that really ruins my arch-nemesis-hating.

On the other hand, we all know who the true enemy is in the morning:

The alarm clock is evil

Yes. Early O’clock is a legitimate time. My alarm clock declares it to be so every morning.

You’re not fooling anyone by pretending to be helpful, Alarm Clock.

IT IS SO EVIL.

Nothing gets the adrenaline going in the morning quite like the sound of my alarm clock. It probably also doubles as an impending nuclear war alert.

The morning is a confusing time for me, which probably just highlights the fact that in the days of cavemen and super-predators, I would have been a delicious morning meal.

Confused in the morning

I also sound like a zombie when I walk. And look like one. I really don’t know what happens to my hair when I sleep.

My general level of morning awareness hovers right between “completely oblivious” and “just awake enough to not walk into things.”

TURN ON WATER

This is an accurate depiction of my morning in-the-shower pose.

Which is incidentally low enough on the awareness scale to be completely confused when the shower does not automagically turn on. I mean, this is The Future, right?

The shower does not know you want to be clean

Ok, we should probably invent me-sensing showers before we invent flying cars. Get on it, Google.

Eventually, though, I successfully manage to both turn the shower on and hurl soap at myself.

Drawing soapy hair is hard.

This is as close as the Internet will ever get to seeing me in the shower. You’re all welcome.

On this one fateful day that we’re discussing, however, I discovered that my lack of awareness in the morning had delivered me into the grasp of a horrifying nightmare.

Dun dun. Dun dun. Dun dun dun dun dun...

This is how you end up with soap in your eyes at 5:30 in the morning.

The most terrifying, horrifying thing that can happen to a girl in the shower outside of a Hitchcock film:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

In any other time period, this would have been the end of me***. This enthusiastic insect was sharing the tiny box of a shower with me. And guys. GUYS. He’d been there the. Whole. Time.

***Seriously. No hyperbole or exaggeration at all. At. All.

And my boyfriend says it makes me look very pretty.

This is my grown-up tough-girl face.

Since my first survival technique is “close your eyes tightly and pretend you are still sleeping, and then it will be a dream,” this could have been a very dangerous situation. Then, however, something occurred to me. Something important. Something life-saving.

Down the drain!

You’re feeling bad for the bug, aren’t you?
Don’t let him trick you. You can’t trust anything with more than four legs, and he had like, 80.

It occurred to me that the inventors of my modern shower had already thought through this situation. They’d invented the perfect bug-removal device.****

****DO NOT GOOGLE “Uses for shower wand.” THE INTERNET IS WRONG. It is for killing bugs.

Otherwise I'd be dead

The future has all the best murdery devices

So, you see, without the tools of the future, I’d be food for all SORTS of horrible creatures.*****

*****Like itty bitty insects. Which are the most dangerous kind.

(P.S. – Hi Internet. I missed you. Please still read my blog. <3)