Monday, January 17, 2011

My Canada Tis of Thee

Wow.  I can’t believe I made it through another year…without shooting anyone!  What better way to start of 2011 than by a flurry of annoyances, brought to you by yours truly?  I’m sure you can think of several, but I would like to encourage you to shut up and continue reading.  Did I hurt your feelings?  Then I probably wouldn’t encourage you to read further.  Things aren’t going to get better. 
  1. People who mark every e-mail as “urgent.”  If your e-mail doesn’t involve someone dying, losing a large amount of blood or a major limb, or the closing of my favorite bar, it’s NOT urgent.  Telling me that we’re going to lunch in 15 minutes warrants an exclamation point in the body at best.  It does not necessitate your e-mail arriving in my inbox with that blasted red exclamation point beside it screaming, “Read me!!  I must be very, very, very important!”  So, before hitting that lovely send (or in some regrettable instances, “send all”) button, stop and think for a minute.  Does the content of this message explain eminent, grave danger to the recipient?  Does this little message explain the inherent problems with the braking system on the recipient’s car?  Finally, if the recipient fails to read this message immediately, will the recipient, the recipient’s family, or the recipient’s job be in jeopardy?  If the answer to any of these questions is “yes” then go ahead and mark your e-mail as urgent.  If the e-mail goes into excruciating detail about the dangers of Coca-Cola products, has any sort of caricature of Sarah Palin, or tries to espouse the importance of carrying wasp spray to ward off the gang members that are hiding underneath your car waiting to slash your ankles, then step away from the “urgent” button.  You’re doing yourself, and your entire e-mail contact list, a huge favor. 
  2. Inflatable mascots.  I watched the Indianapolis game the other night, shaking my head at the Titans, and saw the Colts “mascot” bobbing away like an ocean buoy in the end zone.  Aren’t mascots supposed to be furry, huggable creatures that inspire fetishes in some people?  These inflatable things are not only throwing pot holes into the roads paved by such mascot greats like the Philly Phanatic and Tennessee’s beloved Smokey, but they’re also encouraging inflatable Christmas decorations.  Neither of these situations is okay in my book so I’m calling BS on these stupid things and attacking the next one I see with the pocket knife I keep in my purse for just such occasions.  You’ve been warned, Peyton.  Keep that freakish, horse-shaped balloon thing away from me. 
  3. Voicemails.  I absolutely abhor voicemails.  It takes me approximately 4 hours to get through my voicemail prompts and it goes something like this:
I press #.  Repeatedly.  I then have to listen to my voicemail lady saying things like, “Please enter your password.  Now enter your phone number.  Now punch in ‘867-5309’ while singing, ‘Jenny, I got your number!’”  After putting in every number, including the year in which I turned15, I get to the message only to hear you hang up.  Not okay.  Not even a little bit.  Why did YOU sit through the entire process of my stupid voicemail greeting and the other voicemail lady saying, “If you’d like to leave a message, stay on the line.  To page this person, press 5.  To hear this person butchering a Tommy Tutone song, press any button you like.  We were going to play it for you anyway” only to hang up?  Do us both a favor and just text me.  Or send a smoke signal.  Or an e-mail.  Just don’t mark it as urgent.  As we’ve already covered, that’s annoying. 
4.  Pennies.  I purchased something the other day and the total was something like $3.83.  I frantically searched my purse for 3 pennies in an effort to 1.  Get rid of the stupid things rattling around in the bottom of my purse and 2.  Not get any more of the blasted things to rattle around in the bottom of my purse.  This doesn’t happen with anything else EVER!  If someone offers you a pen, you don’t go digging around in your personal possessions in an effort to give that person a pen before you can receive their pen.  No one’s ever given Pat Sajak a car in an attempt to not drive home in a Mazda 6 Sports Sedan after winning the final Bonus Round, now have they?  I have a jar of pennies on my desk that was here on my first day.  I could take it to one of those Coinstar things, but it’s really not worth my time to go to Kroger, find a parking spot, figure out the machine, and walk away with $.87.  Pennies are the red-headed step-children of the currency world and I say it’s time to put them in their place:  the basement in a padlocked cage until Thanksgiving.   

And now, for a change of pace, the one thing that has made me inexplicably happy the past few days:
1.  Canada.  Without our boring neighbors to the north, we wouldn’t “hoser” in our lexicon!  And where would our world be without the cinematic classic, “Strange Brew?”  A place I don’t want to reside.  That’s where we’d be.  Canadians are have curiously cute French accents, they’re too far north to know we’re making fun of them, and most importantly, they have awesome health care, so they’ll recover quickly from whatever mental illness you incur from shouting, “Eh?” over and over.  And over.  And over.  Because making fun of Canada, and their bacon, will never get old.  They were smart enough to ship Celine Dion down here, so I’m hoping they’ll be smart enough to accept my work visa application.  I’m moving up there to be one of the cops who rides horses.  Those boots are uh-mazing.  And if you know me, you know I’m all about some cool hats.  Watch out, you Canucks.  This Southern girl has a passport, Canadian-laced dreams, and up-to-date vaccinations.  Get excited, you hosers. 

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