The Not-So and So-Hot List: April Edition

Well, ladies, it’s that time of year again.  White shoes and linen pants are almost wearable again, the air is full of things that make you go, “Ah-choo,” and the person next to you in traffic can hear you curse their entire family because the weather’s warm enough to drive with your windows down.  And with the advent of a new season comes the arrival of one of my favorite things:  A list of things that I find annoying.  Brace yourself.  I’m coming in like a lion.  And leaving like a hungry one. 

The Not-So List:

1. The little fad of what I like to call “Car Families.”  You know, the little sticker families you see on the backs of cars with a dad, mom, and however many children you have.  It’s gotten out of control.  Some of these people have the entire Atlanta Braves roster on the back of their minivan, and it’s annoying as crap.  Am I supposed to tolerate your bad driving because you were able to produce 8 kids and a dog?  Is it possible that you’re driving like a total moron because you can’t see out your back window?  Maybe these things annoy me because my car family would consist of me, Travis, and three cats, thus making my road rage threats of “clawing out your eyes with a rusty crack spoon” a bit less threatening.  Whatever the reason, they’re getting out of hand and the next one I see might need to remove one of the stick figures from their back window after I'm done with them.  Also included in this list are little monogram stickers on the back window, the sorority plates that are undoubtedly on the front of the monogrammed car, and bull testicles hanging from your trailer hitch.  The fact that you need to display a faux set of balls from an animal on your vehicle makes me wonder about the presence of yours. 
2. Cookie tins.  This is really more of an annoyance suited for Christmas time, but so many things annoy me about Christmas that this little blight on society is often overlooked in favor of making fun of the fact that people still think it’s socially acceptable display those “Santa ran into our house” decorations.  It’s great that you want to give me cookies, and it’s great that you want the packaging to look nice. But what do I do with the stupid tin once I’ve consumed said cookies?  How on earth am I supposed to use what amounts to a gold-colored Pringles can in my life?  I feel bad throwing it away because surely I can use it for something.  I then throw it in the back of a closet and only see it again when I’m cleaning out the closet for the hideous process known as “putting your house on the market.”  And I can assure you, nowhere in real estate land does a giant armchair made from cookie tins guarantee the sale of your house. 
3. The fact that a TV shows actually exists about prima donna women going into labor (Pregnant in Heels.  I encourage you not to check it out.)  Why are we reinforcing that this is a good idea by televising it?  You might as well create a show about teen moms that only puts the teen moms in the spotlight and on the cover of gossip magazines that will only make the teens NOT on the covers of magazines rush to have a baby so they can be on the front of US Weekly.  Wait a minute…
4. Which brings me to another teen phenomenon that makes me want to rip out my eyebrows with a pair of pliers and an 18-wheeler:  Taylor freakin’ Swift.  Yes, the latest pop star to feel my wrath while she’s rolling around in piles of money and laughing hysterically at the ramblings of a crazed, so-called blogger with far LESS money is Tennessee’s own Taylor Swift.  She started off okay with “Tim McGraw.”  But as time wore on, so did her, “Oh, me?  Why, I’m not important.  Just look how humble I am!” act and it’s grating on my nerves like a field full of hippies.  Her songs play endlessly in every format ever invented (I’m sure she’ll break into the classic rock market soon.  Somehow.  Because she’s evil.) and they’re pure crap.  Why don’t you start singing some songs about adulthood and normal 20-something activities, Ms Swift?  Are you going to sing about a bathtub full of hunch punch and blacking out a frat party?  So many things annoy me about her that I’m now annoyed that I’m annoyed.  Screw you, Taylor Swift, and the hackneyed, money-laden horse you rode in on.  I’m sure you’re here to stay, and that’s my personal demon to defeat, but I will neither accept nor like you.  And I hope you think that’s “mean.”  Ugh.  And come up with some better names for your songs, please?

And now, for the less caustic portion of this article, I present the “So Hot” list, or, as I like to call it, “Things that make me smile instead of wanting to eradicate a large portion of society.” 

1. Damla candy.  This little Turkish treat came to me by way of the gentleman who cleans our office.  Like any good crack dealer, he gave us the first taste free.  Then, when the delicious, strawberry-tinged pieces of deliciousness were gone, we were forced to find them ourselves, post-addiction.  Shaking and trembling, I hurried to find out where I could get more of this lovely, taffy-like substance that has gotten me more than one long afternoon.  I searched a rather sketchy world market on Nolensville road only to find pig heads wrapped in cellophane and canned quail eggs.  BUT, after leaving a note for the candy fairy, I was told that my candy waited for me at a tiny little place just down the street.  I now have an entire bucket of fun at my fingertips and a tried and true supplier of crack fruit-flavored amazingness. 
2. The fact that not one, but TWO, people waved at me yesterday when I was out visiting my parents.  If you’re not from a small town, you’re probably accustomed to a completely different version of the “one-finger salute.”  In a small town, the index finger is lifted from the steering wheel to each passing driver in a bit of “I’m sure I probably know you or someone to whom you’re related, so I’m going to acknowledge your presence so I don’t get yelled at by my mother” form of communication.  It was refreshing, and it made me smile, so it’s making an appearance here. 
3. Another thing I saw on the way out to Robertson County – a field full of sheep and little baby lambs.  I wanted to nab one of the lambs and take it home and try to convince Travis that our cat, Gibson, had just gotten a little taller and little woollier.  They were just so freakin’ cute!  And I’m guessing “comes with its own self-sustaining wool supply” is an amenity no home-buyer could refuse.  At least not when confronted with the inherent cute-factor of a lamb. 

Stay tuned for next month's issue, featuring a rebuttal from Taylor Swift herself, and a "Building a Lamb Cage in Your Guest Bath" tutorial!