How To Camp Like An Idiot - 20 Simple Steps

1. Arrive at your campsite late. Check-in time was 1:00 pm, but you were doing last minute packing and last minute buying at the Mega Superstore for ten bags of chips, four 12-packs of soda, and 48 jumbo hot dogs (they were on sale!).

2. So you arrived late and now have to pitch your tent in the dark, because you brought your flashlight, but didn’t check to see if the batteries still worked.

3. Bring only one newspaper and one box of matches you got for free at The Dive Bar. You love waiting hours just so you can have a warm can of baked beans. Don’t bring a can opener or other useful kitchen utensils. You are camping! You don’t need spoons or plates!

4. Be as loud and obnoxious after quiet hours so your neighbors next to you with now crying children will hate you. Blast Kanye West songs and drink until you pass out so you can drown out that non-sleeping child in the RV next to you. The nerve of that child!

5. Never put away any of your food at night. The whole purpose of camping is to be one with nature, including raccoons, bears, possums, skunks, and mice. You’ve always wanted to pet a coon and ride bare back on a bear. Now is your chance!

6. Pack your food and beverages in the same cooler. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Reach for a beer and expose your hamburger patties to the 90 degree temperatures all at the same time.

7. Bring your own firewood from two counties over, because yours is the best and you know it.

8. Don’t pay for trash dumping at the campground. The charge of $1.00 is way too expensive. See No. 5 for additional reasons if you’re not convinced.

9. Keep snacks and open containers of food in your tent. You never know when you’re going to want a midnight treat.

10. Wear lots of perfume/cologne to cover up your body odor. Then play a game of Connect The Mosquito Dots to pass the time!

11. Utilize all those great camping hacks found on Pinterest. Especially the “hand washing station,” the belt around the tree to hold up your kitchen supplies, and the “plunger bucket” to wash your clothes.

12. Pack high heels and four other pairs of shoes. You never know who you might run into. Leave the hiking boots and sneakers at home. Mother always told you that if you want to be beautiful, you must suffer through the pain.

13. Whine incessantly about the poor WiFi signal. Cry if you have to. Let it out. If you complain about it loud enough, maybe the owners will hear you and pay loads of money for WiFi for the entire campground!

14. Leave all your valuables scattered around your campsite so your neighbors know that you are important and have nice things.

15. If you bring your dog, don’t pick up the doggy-poo. It helps to fertilize the earth. Think of Mother Nature. She loves POO!

16. Wait to pack up and leave until the very last minute. You paid to camp here until 1:00 pm, and you sure as hell are going to get your money’s worth.

17. Never put your fire out. You worked hard to start that monster; keep it roaring all weekend.

18. Only eat really salty, unhealthy snacks and drink a shit ton of energy drinks.

19. Don’t pack bug spray – it doesn’t work. Don’t put sunscreen on your skin – you’ll only become greasy and less clean.

20. Leave all the traces when you leave. Garbage should be left behind, dirty underwear should be be scattered everywhere, and you should keep that fire going, baby!

Post Office Blues

I am going to single-handedly take on the Eau Claire Post Office.  You heard me.  I’m not scared.

Locally-run governmental agencies are the worst.  Okay, so they’re not always the worst, but when the Eau Claire Post Office said it was discontinuing mail processing in February 2014, they became a sore subject for me.  Have you noticed that your mail is taking longer to get to places in Wisconsin that are outside of the 547- and 548-area codes?  No?  Well, I have.  And maybe that’s only because I work in an office where sending out mail can be time sensitive, and when it doesn’t get there the next day or day after, your coworkers take it out on you (because it is my fault, right?).  Basically half of our mail is still being processed in Eau Claire, and the other half is being processed in St. Paul, MN.

Anyway, this post office conundrum has a simple fix – separate the customers as they enter the building before they reach the service counter and act like morons who have no idea how they want to send something and whether they do, in fact, want insurance on the candy they are sending to their son in college.

There are three paths to choose from:  1) I know what I want, 2) I need extra attention and some answers, and 3) I’m going to take up so much time because I am THAT person.

The “I know what I want” group is the best.  These people actually walk around with a crown on their head.  Customers should bow down to them as they move swiftly through their line.  This path is only for customers who need stamps, need postage on their (get this) already sealed package, and/or they have filled out the proper certified/return receipt beforehand (you can do that? YES, YOU CAN!) and need postage and a date stamp.  You will indeed want to live up to the royalty of what I like to call non-idiots.

The “I need extra attention and some answers” group is for those people who need some cost options.  They will, of course, have their package put together before they get to the service counter.  This route has a two-step phase:  1) Package your items if you haven’t already done so and then 2) Proceed to the service counter.   Unlike the kings and queens alongside them moving at a rapid pace in line 1, this group needs shipping and cost options and/or they need help filling out that certified/return receipt.  Customers in this group will also have the option of applying insurance to their package.

Last and certainly the least, the “I’m going to take up so much time because I am THAT person” group is the bottom-dweller of the post office floor.  This group consists of morons who want to talk about their day as they have the post office worker bubble-wrap and ship their cat to Hawaii with insurance.  They also have forty-plus unsealed envelopes with no addresses written on them.  On top of which, they will undoubtedly change their mind about their shipping choice approximately three times.  These customers are the worst of the worst.  They have no respect for other customer’s time, and so they are stuck in their line for hours and hours because of the idiots standing before them.

We’ve all been there.  The moment you exit your vehicle at the Eau Claire Post Office and see a customer walking to the door with two bins full of unstamped letters.  You slam your door quickly, run to the door to beat the two-binned lady but can’t dodge the bottom-dwellers moping their way to the entrance of the building.  You never had a chance.  You won’t make the 5:00 p.m. cutoff time, and you’ll be stuck in line behind a bunch of people who have no idea how they want to send their mail.  Idiots.

Dumb Things on Pinterest

I love Pinterest. I go through the "Home Decor" category a lot because I'm moving into my house at the end of the month, and I come across a lot of great ideas...and a lot of dumb ones. For example:

"WASH" sign. I thought that was pretty obvious, but maybe people need to be reminded not to fry bacon in here.

This screams "clutter" to me. Sure your mess won't be on your kitchen table, but it sure will be tacked or magnetized to the wall! This looks like an elementary school art hallway. I give it a D-.

Oh heavens. This kills me. How about USE A WINE BOTTLE HOLDER AS A WINE RACK? Towels are better in the closet. Wine is better on the rack - where it belongs! Let's not mess with things.

HA! First of all, yes, sure, it's a cute idea. But it is also ginormous. I hope your bedroom has square footage for this. Personally, I like this idea for a doggie bed/area under the stairs.

AWWWWWW! Isn't it so cute?

All I have for this one is...Mommie Dearest

You heard her.

This one drives me nuts. If you are the average person, you probably have one washer and one dryer. You can wash one load of laundry at a time. Let's say you do towels first. You wash them, then you dry them, then you fold them, and put them away. And while your towels are in the dryer, you start your darks in the washer. Then you dry your darks, fold them, and put them away. You can't really get ahead of this little "schedule." Because unless you have more than one washer and one dryer, all of your clothes will never be done at once (and you will never need four sorting baskets). And if you decide to let your clothes just sit on this "sorting counter" after they finish drying just so you can use your sorting baskets, then you're wasting time and your clothes are getting wrinkled by not folding them immediately after getting pulled out of the dryer. What a waste of space.

Do you not want to sell your house? Ever? Y-I-K-E-S!

This dog is living the life. Hopefully the owners have a pool. If not, they need to reevaluate their priorities.

No one wants to see your body parts squished out of the hammock-ceiling.

Yes indeed! Your kids will DEFINITELY throw these rocks in the house and break ALL THE THINGS! *face palm*

Thoughts I have during my day

One in particular hit me the other day.

Why is it that handicapped bathroom stalls are the furthest away from the door?

It doesn't make any sense.

They get to park the closest to the stores, but they have to wheel themselves the farthest to poop.

Things that make me go, "hmmmmm."

Hold on to Your Hats, It's Resolution Season!

On the first day of 2013, Kinsey went out and ordered a Caramel White Chocolate Mocha at Starbucks. It's a new beginning. 2012 has ended. 2013 has begun.

On her way to Starbucks, Kinsey passed only a few cars. Not a lot of people out on the brisk day of her new beginning. Hmmm, where are all the people? And then it hit her. Probably at home making resolutions!

This got Kinsey to thinking, "I need to make some resolutions!" It doesn't take much for Kinsey to hop on the train. Last year she resolved to do Jillian Michaels' Yoga Meltdown. By doing this DVD meant that she would have to do it without pause. No rests, nothing...do the DVD all the way through. No "breathers" on the mat. POWER THROUGH IT! NO PAIN, NO GAIN! Motivation from her high school coaches resounded loudly through her head.

Kinsey was naive back in 2012 when she dreamed of six-pack abs and arms made of steel. Jillian Michaels takes no prisoners. She is haunting. In the end, Kinsey died a slow death on her yoga mat without achieving her goal of doing one workout from beginning to end.

"This year will be different," she said to herself on her drive home from Starbucks. And as she sang and cried to Lonestar's "I'm Already There," she pumped her first in the air and said, "This year is going to be the best year EVER!" *sniffle* "Why is the song ripping my heart out?" *sobs*

When she got back to her little apartment, she sat down and thought about what she wanted for the year, but she kept thinking too big. So she detoured and took a picture of her Starbucks cup, played with Instagram, and uploaded it to Facebook.

One hour later.

"Focus!" she said to herself. Kinsey talked to herself a lot, because people do that...they might not admit it, but Kinsey did.

"First resolution," she said as she admired her Christmas tree, "Take down the tree, take pictures of my new ornaments, and take down the rest of my Christmas decorations, including my lights outside." An hour or so later she was finished.

"Okay, now for my next resolution." And as she cringed while listening to an overrated Taylor Swift song, it came to her: "I will make three resolutions. One resolution for a better mind, one for a better heart, and one for a better body." She smiled because she knew, after 25 years of living, she had made some sensible resolutions.

To achieve these resolutions would be quite simple.

To form a better mind, she would read one chapter a day out of a current book she is reading and/or write (either blogging, journaling, or screenplay writing). 

To build a better heart, she would look for the best in people, especially herself, and she wouldn't let opinions from others bring her down, because life is too short to worry about what other people think of her. 

To build a better body, she would tackle Jillian Michaels' ball-busting Yoga Meltdown in stride, get back on a running schedule, and try to eat more vegetables and, sadly, less pizza.

Kinsey's 2013 ultimate resolution is to be endlessly happy, less stressed, and healthy. She sat on her couch with tears in her eyes, nodding at the resolutions in front of her. "UGH!" she said as she wiped her eyes, "I better be getting my period soon."

Commercials at Their Worst

Are you ever watching tv and then a commercial pops up for a certain medication and it's the dumbest commercial in the whole wide world? For example: A group of friends are all sitting around a table discussing this new medication this one lady is on. Then she starts talking about how many doses are safe to take daily, the side-effects, and how you should of course check with your physician first. The ladies all ask their friends questions filled with medical terms and the lady answers them like she's reading cue cards.

Natural, right?

WRONG!

Ugh, these commercials are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ANNOYING!

This is how this commercial would work in real life:
I can't drink that wine.
Why not?
I'm taking this pill that makes me poop in my sleep.
EWWWW! HAHAHA!
It's just one of the side-effects, no big deal.
That is disgusting!
I know it is, but I just wear a diaper to bed so I don't have to do laundry every afternoon.
Is there any other weird side-effect?
Oh yeah, death.
Figures.
I know! Death is always a side-effect.
Anyway...did you watch The Office last night?

And there you have it. If only all commercials were this true. Real life rocks!

New topic! Here are some pictures of my place and one of me! :) Ignore the clutter.

The Yoplait yogurt container has Christmas cookies in them...not yogurt.

I'm taking my tree down on January 1!

Time for a Kinsey Update

Since I've been gone, I need to do a catch-up with the lovely people who (hopefully) still read my blog when I have a new post. I'm crossing my fingers on that one.

1. I've been in bar volleyball league since the end of May. We're pretty good. Probably 2nd in our Wednesday bracket. There's one team that's really good, and a guy on the team wears one long colored sock. It's weird, so we call him the sock man. And whenever we have a really good hit, Jeremy says, "We need to put a sock on you!" Haha, we think it's funny.

2. On Wednesday we played an all-girl team. We had three guys and two girls on our team, since Andrea couldn't make it to the game. The rules are you need to ask the other team if it's okay to play with less girls than guys. I hate asking, and I've only had to ask one other time, but I strolled over to their side of the net and asked politely, "Is it okay if we play with three guys and two girls? My friend is a teacher (put that in there for good measure) and she can't make it."

They were silent for about five seconds too long before one girl said, "This happens to us every week."

"So is it okay?" I asked, completely ignoring her snarky remark.

"Fine."

Good, I thought. Then we started playing and the all-girl team totally sucks!! They are really bad. The snarky one did that one arm hit almost every time a ball came to her. We won all three games easily. Then at the end I heard the captain talking to the ref: "What would have happened if we said no they can't play with more guys?" The ref shrugged - he was probably thinking, it doesn't matter because next week is the tournament and the brackets are already up and you guys suck, so it really doesn't matter.

The girl then said, "Because next time this is not going to happen."

I stood there, signed off on the score sheet, and walked away. Seriously, they are the 2nd to worst team on our league. We could have played with three people and still killed them. I can't wait to play them next week (with our entire team) and really slam it in their faces.

3. I have a new niece in my family. My sister Tyne had her first baby in July. She named her Elsie, and she is soooooo cute! I'm her Godmother too! Yay! She likes to poop though. Just today, she was at our house and my mom was holding her. Then we heard this loud, juicy fart, and my mom pulled her away and Elsie's poop shot out of the side of her diaper - onto my mom's leg and the floor. GROSS! That was a nasty one. But she's still cute :)

4. I'm slowly running out of money. Even with my job (which is now only part-time) I'm just making my loan payments and other bills. It stinks. Thank goodness I live at home and don't have to pay for rent or groceries. Oh no, I just said, "Thank goodness I live at home." Something might be wrong with me.

5. Big Brother is my new favorite reality TV show. I want to be on it so bad! Does anyone else watch it?

6. I'm obsessed with a new show. It's not a "new" show, but it's new to me. I started watching Battlestar Galactica on Netflix Instant, and I LOVE it! It's so good. If anyone is looking for a show that is action/romantic/drama/mystery, then this is a show for you! It's also kind of funny. I started watching it on Sunday and I'm already done with the first season.

Battlestar Galactica

Well, I'm off to a wedding this weekend, and I promise to post more.

Robot Bank

I feel like I have certain situations that happen to me more than any other person I know. For example, the other day I ran to the bank to make a deposit. One would assume this a simple task. So did I, believe me, so did I...

I've never been to this bank before, but I expected it to be like most banks. Tellers greeting you with their sad smiles, that ONE guy holding a bucket full of change, a smelly but very tan dude with sweat stains on the back of his cut-off tee, and the mother trying to control her wild children and then threatening them with "NO wii time tonight!!" Ahhh, the joys of banks.

When I entered the bank something seemed off. I felt like Dorothy walking from black & white into the world of color. Except my world of color was a world where no tellers were to be seen. Odd, I thought. Where have all the tellers gone?? Hmmm, whatever, I'll fill out my deposit slip and worry about that little problem later.

About one minute later...frick, where are the tellers?? How am I supposed to make a deposit? I stood in the room looking awkward as awkward could be. I see a couple offices, a few "stations" with tv screens and telephones, and a roped off path that led to it. I walked around looking for a teller with my deposit slip in hand and a confused look glued to my face, when finally I decided to ask the guy that was in one of the "stations," "Hey, I'm trying to make a deposit. Where do I do that?"

He smiled and answered politely: "Right here. It's like a drive-up window, but inside. It's weird, but this bank is close to my house..." He shrugged.

"Are you kidding me?" I said, and walked to my little cubby of a "station." I then proceeded to tap on the tv screen thinking it was a touch screen...nothing happened. "I don't know what I'm doing," I said, still tapping on the NON-touch screen tv.

The polite guy walked me through it, "Put the money in the container and push the button, then someone will show up. I know it's weird, believe me. I feel like I'm banking in the future."

"This is crazy. I'm never coming to this bank again," I said. And with that I made my deposit talking to the guy in the tv screen who works in the basement. I seriously just walked into the bank and had no human contact with a teller. Unbelievable. Also, these poor tellers are working in a basement...ummmm, sucks for them.

Honestly, they might as well have robots working there. What's the point? I walk into a bank expecting to interact with another person, and I talk to a man in a tv. I know that's what the drive-up is for, and if my car window rolled down believe me, I'd be all over that.

But I have to walk in and do my business inside. It's the way of the world for me and my Pontiac Grand Am. So as you can see, this kind of awkward banking experience happens to me a lot. Seriously, I don't think Julia Roberts has ever had to go through something like this.

Bates Motel

I went to wedding this weekend. It was a nice wedding. Beautiful bride and wonderful music. Very enjoyable. The bridesmaids looked clad in their "Little Bo Peep" dresses - their words...not mine. But they did kind of look like Blue Sheepherders.

With every wedding there are speeches. I've given one as a maid-of-honor at my bff Andrea's wedding last August. I kept it short but meaningful. I didn't put in a bunch of "inside jokes" or embarrassing stories. I followed "THE RULES."

Unfortunately, at this wedding the maid-of-honor speech ran 10 minutes too long - I'm not exaggerating. This speech was literally 10 minutes long. I died a slow death that night, and almost died (seriously) later that night. I'll get to that later. Anway, the maid-of-honor had way too much to drink, so she rambled on and on and on AND ON about this sandwich - or what she liked to call - "SAMwich." The sandwich wasn't a critical part of the story. She should've stopped after her first story. Yes, she told more than one.

After the first story I couldn't even look at the head table. I was so embarrassed and uncomfortable. The entire reception hall slowly went into this awkward silence wishing that she would finally wrap up her SAMwich and call it a day. After about five more minutes of a story that was going nowhere, she finally finished her speech. Like on cue, everyone let out a sigh of relief. Thank god that was over.

Before I get to the part where I seriously thought I was going to die, let me tell you about the dinner rolls, because dinner rolls are very important in any meal. Well, every person at the reception received a basket of dinner rolls except our table! I was starving. Andrea and Jeremy weren't starving as much as I was because they ate at BWW during our 3 hour lapse between the wedding and reception. I wanted to save myself for the meal. Bad idea. While everyone else enjoyed their dinner rolls, we all sat drooling over our empty plates. Finally, a server stopped by our table and we informed her that we needed dinner rolls.

We all got served our salad, then our meal, then our rolls. But we got extra rolls. And HOT rolls right out of the oven. It's safe to say that we got the best dinner rolls in the entire state of Wisconsin. They were tasty!!!! And we were all able to have two! How wonderful.

Okay, now to the part where my life almost ended. So, I stayed at a motel because I wasn't sure if I would be able to drive home after the dance. I played it safe and booked a room across the road. When I checked in (before the reception) and pulled up to my room at The Royal Inn (nice name, right?) I got in and unpacked. The room smelled musty like an attic mixed with bad breath. Gross. So I sprayed my body spray all over the place in hope to mask the smell until my nose got used to it.

After the reception I pulled into The Royal Inn and made myself comfortable. The interior wasn't as bad as the exterior. The motel website even states: "Don't judge us by our exterior." That probably should have been my first sign as not to stay here, but I didn't want to spend over $100 a night, just to sleep. Well, I fell asleep and awoke around 2 or 3 am. I had an end room, and I heard two men talking outside. Actually, they were yelling at each other. For example:

"Take your mother-effing business somewhere else. I don't want to see your effing face again!"
"Nonononononono! I ain't doing nothing wrong."
Then there was some pushing (I'm guessing).
"I don't care. This is my place and you don't do business here. If you know what's good for you.."
blah blah blah, scary blah blah...

So I'm in bed, curled up in a tiny little ball with wide eyes thinking, "Ohmygosh, this is it. This is the end. One of the scary talking guys is gonna pull out a gun and shoot the other one, but miss and the bullet is gonna come through the wall and kill me. They won't find me until after check-out, and my dead body is going to be all over the news!"

I was freaking out. I thought about calling 911, but if I could hear them, then they could probably hear me, right? And I definitely didn't want to be a witness to anything. So I waited out their 5 minute "conversation" about drugs or pimping, or whatever, and fell back asleep. When I woke up, I was alive and well, but I got the hell out of there, and will never return again.

I'm happy to be alive.

Holy BALLS!

The other day on my way home from work I was listening to the radio and 4:00 Trivia came on. Normally, I never call in...even if I know the answer, but this was for two free movie tickets, so I HAD to call in.

The question was: "Stairs and bicycles are two of the top three inanimate objects that cause accidents. What is the third inanimate object?"

I thought for about two seconds when BALLS came to my mind. Balls, balls, balls, it has to be balls. People get hit with balls all the time. I've had two accidents where balls were the number one cause. When I was about 14 I played short-stop and I got hit by a line drive right in the mouth. It hurt really bad. No teeth were lost, but there was a lot of blood.

In high school, my coach had me out in right field, and I was sprinting to catch a fly ball. I ran so fast that I didn't pay any attention to my surroundings. The next thing I remember is literally bouncing off the fence with my FACE and landing on the ground. I had fence markings on my chin for about a week. *I caught the ball, though, but when I fell to the ground the ball fell out, and the umpire said it wasn't an out. What a lousy ump.*

BALLS! It has to be. So I start dialing. Busy signal. Redial. Busy Signal. Redial. Busy signal. Redial. Busy signal. I couldn't get through. Typical.

Then the song ends and someone guesses the toilet. Wrong. I know it's balls, so I call in again. Busy signal. Redial. Busy signal. Redial. Busy signal. Redial. Busy signal. I give up.

The next person guesses a ladder. Good guess, but wrong. So the radio host gives a clue, "It's something you throw." Ugh, I was right!!!! But I couldn't get through. I'm spinning angry.

I didn't even try again to call in, because only a dummy would call in and get the answer wrong. There was no use for me to keep redialing only to hear more busy signals. Those movie passes could've been mine. Balls.

Wimpy Kid Mania

On Saturday I took my lovely little niece, Caitlyn, to Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules. It was really good. Very funny - for both adults and children.

Short review: Greg Heffley (Zachary Gordon) returns to middle school a year older - 7th grade. This time the movie focuses less on school and more on family with Greg's older brother/tormentor Rodrick (Devon Bostick) as part of the main plot. Their mother (Rachael Harris) bribes the boys with "Mom Bucks" in exchange for brother bonding. The movie soars with undeniable funny family feuding, and the loyal best friend Rowley (Robert Capron) steals a few scenes with his endearing self. Also stars Steve Zahn as Frank Heffley.

Rating: 3 1/2 out of 5 stars.

I asked my niece if she liked the first Diary or this one better, and she replied: "This one."

Now I have to tell you about my experience while waiting in line to get popcorn before the movie. We arrived about 25 minutes before the movie started to give us enough time to go to the bathroom, get concessions, and find a good seat. Well, as Caitlyn and I headed to get popcorn, this little girl (about 6) raced in front of us, turned the corner to the concessions stand, and went straight up to the counter.

I noticed right away that she "cut" in line. The people (a high schooler with what looked like her younger sister), now behind her, also noticed but didn't say anything. Caitlyn and I stood in our respective spots in line. About 10 seconds later, the little 6-year-old deviant's father and brother walked up to the stand. The dad asked for five popcorns and two large sodas. The register dude said, "That comes to $40.37."

The dad was outraged at the cost. Meanwhile, Caitlyn asked what time it was. I said I didn't know, but not to worry, because we have a lot of time before the movie starts.

The father then said, "What if I get 3 popcorns and four large sodas?" The poor guy behind the counter told him that the price would still be 40 some bucks. Still outraged the dad said that was too much money. Um, yeah! CAN'T YOU READ THE PRICES IN FRONT OF YOU? Jeez.

I bent down to Caitlyn and said, "See that little girl." Caitlyn nodded. "If she wouldn't have cut in line, we would be sitting in theater by now." Caitlyn nodded again with an extra eye roll. I looked to my right and saw that the other line for concessions was moving at a regular pace. Ugh, I couldn't switch lines now, we were so close! So I stayed in my line with an annoyed look on my face.

Back to the father: Finally he decided on a large popcorn combo and another soda. The register guy asked him what kind of soda he wanted. And ya' know what? The father didn't know. He asked his two kids what they wanted...they didn't know either. So they THOUGHT about it for awhile.

Ohmigosh! I was starting to lose it. I was seriously going to throw some punches soon. Caitlyn looked at me again and asked what time it was. I told her again that we still have lots of time. I honestly had no idea what time it was, but I didn't want to worry Caitlyn that we might be late for our movie, because of some indecisive/unprepared parent. People in line behind me were also getting annoyed, shuffling their feet and rubbing their foreheads.

After they paid, the line moved fast, since everyone had plenty of time to decide on what they wanted. It's really a no-brainer...this theater concession stuff. Pretty much everyone I hear in line knows what they want before they get there. It's not like people are deciding on a five-course meal here.

When it was my turn to order I simply said, "One large popcorn with butter. That's it." Wow, that took me less than a minute to order, pay, and receive my food.

I like people. I do. But when some people pull a "stunt" like this, I get really annoyed. Quietly annoyed. I would never throw punches...haha, I wouldn't ever even say anything. I'm too scared to do something reckless like that.

Anyway, after the movie was done, Caitlyn and I walked to my car, and Caitlyn said, "Remember that girl who cut in line?"
I said, "Yeah."
"Well," Caitlyn said, "We would've gotten our popcorn a lot faster if she didn't cut."

Yep.

Squirrel!!!

I've never been squirrel shooting before. I know people who really enjoy the sport, because it's fast-paced and it really tests your shooting accuracy.

We have a big gray squirrel that eats out of our bird feeder in the backyard. Yesterday, my niece and nephew were at our house, and I pointed out to them the squirrel gobbling up the bird seed.

I said, "I'm gonna get the BB gun!" They both smiled in excitement. Aunt Kinsey is going hunting!

Outside on the deck I squatted with the gun pointed at the bird feeder. No squirrel in sight. In the window were four little eyes staring at me with their noses pressed to the pane. Connor gave me a thumbs up and Addie blew me a kiss.

I was a warrior ready for battle against the evil gray-haired squirrel. When he returned, I was going to pop him one and scare him away for good.

After 10 minutes of standing in the 30 degree winter weather, I shivered in disappointment and went back inside, defeated. The squirrel must have known that I was out there. Sneaky little vermin.

All three of us sat inside and watched out the window for the return of the chubby mammal. And what to our hunting eyes did appear? A little red squirrel. Good enough for me!!

I ran out of the house, sneaked up the tiny fuzzball, and aimed. I missed. The little thing sprinted towards the woods. In turn, I stepped on the bench railing of our deck and shot again. He knew I was after him, and he ran away in fright.

Maybe tomorrow, or the next day, or sometime in the future the squirrel and I will meet again. And I will be ready. Yes, I will be ready. Connor gave me some good advice that I'll have to take into account next time: He said, "Aunt Kinsey, I think you need to wear camouflage."

Trivia in Chippewa

As most of you know Wednesday means Team Trivia night for my friends and me. We started back in October at a bar in Stanley. Then after they stopped hosting there, we moved to a place in Eau Claire. Now we go to a bar/restaurant in Chippewa Falls.

Well, last week was our first week in Chippewa Falls at The Sheeley House. Kory and I arrived first, so it's our job to start thinking up a clever name for our team so we can win the free pitcher of beer at halftime. Previously, in Stanley and Eau Claire, the best team name won a free pitcher of beer...we've only won the pitcher a couple of times.

And in Stanley and in Eau Claire we were competing with some pretty clever and rude team names. One team always joked about Helen Keller and Anne Frank. Lately, people have been picking on Scott Walker. We once won with the name: "I tried to use penis as my password, but my computer said it was too short" - rude but worthy of free beer.

So Kory and I sat at The Sheeley House scoping out the other teams around us. We figured that they, like the other teams we played against in other towns, were just as clever and funny with their names. I mean, hello, it's a free pitcher of beer we're playing for!

We decided to use the name: "I like my women like I like my wine - 12 years old and locked in the cellar." (I think pedophilia is awful...but the team name was funny, so we used it). Our other team members agreed with the name. Hopefully the pitcher of beer would be ours.

Eight other teams were there, and when our standings were announced at halftime we awaited the creativity of names the other trivia teams had thought up. Boy, were we wrong. The DJ announced the names and the points accordingly. Here's how it went: The Jokers, 18 points, We Love The Sheeley House, 19 points, I'm Batman, 22 points, I like my women like I like my wine - 12 years old and in the cellar, 23 points.

Oh my gosh, we all sank in our seats. No other team was playing it funny and clever like us! How humiliating. Luckily, the other teams laughed at our name respectively. However, there is no free pitcher of beer at The Sheeley House. No wonder we were the only team with a rude/sick name.

Tonight, we will again drive to The Sheeley House for trivia. This time though, our name will be of a different sort.

What's the Deal with Meteorologists?

I like watching the news. I like watching the weather even more, because I'm interested in knowing what the temperature is going to be in the morning, at noon, and night. I love the 7-day forecast. It's my favorite part.

But what's the deal with meteorologists? Just tell me the weather. Seriously, all I need is a screen with numbers in Fahrenheit and pictures of clouds. I don't want you to explain what fog is or a bunch of other fast-talking information you feel is important. All I want is the weather.

Frankly, I don't even need a meteorologist. In my perfect world the meteorologist would stay behind the scenes. If they did come out and present the weather it would go something like this: "It's going to thunderstorm today until about 5:00 pm. Tomorrow is going to be sunny with a high of 75. Here's your 7-day forecast." Then they would walk away.

Instead, I get this..."Good Thursday afternoon. We have a low pressure system coming from the South. The national weather system says blahblahblah, but blahblahblah, I don't really get it. Hey, am I still talking? Ha, I think I have the best job in the world. I'm almost always wrong. We've had a week of record temperatures, but it might snow tomorrow. Then it will be pretty nice again next week. Something about some counties blahblahblah, and more counties that aren't even in our viewing area...let's talk about them for awhile. Oh, and in Texas the temperatures are in the blahboogerblah. But we live in Wisconsin. Maybe I should spend time actually talking about our state. I like to wave my arms and hands around to distract you viewers from seeing the 7-day forecast. Guess what? It took me three hours to figure out how to make that sun on the screen sparkle. Like my tie? It's festive. Now that I've wasted your time, back to you."

So annoying. I find myself zoning out when the weather comes on - like I'm in a trance. I have a theory that my local meteorologist is actually hypnotizing the viewers into thinking he's actually good at his job. My only defense is the mute button on the remote...if I can get to it in time.

Stuck in an Elevator

Ever said something, then five minutes later completely regret it because it came true? I have. Plenty of times.

A couple of weekends ago I went to the Rascal Flatts concert at the Xcel Energy center in St. Paul, MN. My friend, Heather, had two tickets so she invited me to go with her. We had a really great time! Rascal Flatts did an amazing job!! Chris Young and Luke Bryan opened for them...they were awesome too :)

To get to the concert, we parked in a parking garage and then walked to the elevator since we had to go up about 5 or 6 levels. As we stood in the cold, frigid Minnesota air waiting for the elevator to arrive, Heather turned to me and said, "I hope the elevator doesn't get stuck and we miss the whole concert."

I couldn't believe my ears. Did she just say what I thought she just said?? I replied, "Heather! Don't say that. That would suck if we missed the concert."

Finally the elevator opened up and we poured in. All six of us, plus the six who were already in there. Then four more people scrunched in - idiots, we were already jammed in there like sardines. The extra four made it even more uncomfortable for 16 strangers to be shoulder to shoulder in a hot elevator.

We went up one floor. Then all of sudden the elevator stopped. Heather and I looked at each other, since we both knew that it was her fault that the elevator stopped working.

"Omigosh! Is the elevator stuck? Omigosh, omigosh! I cant' believe this is happening," was what the Rascal Flatts t-shirt wearing sardines all said.

Heather and I just stared at each other. Then she said, "I shouldn't have said that."

"Um, yeah, Heather, you hexed us. Don't say anything else while we're stuck in here," I ordered her. Then we both laughed. Holy crappola! It was unbelievable.

The lady closest to the buttons pressed the emergency one. Then the intercom came on and told us not to panic and that they had someone on their way.

Luckily for us, we weren't stuck between floors, so the strong sardines in the front pried the door open. We all flooded out, climbed the 4+ floors, and enjoyed the concert.

After the concert we (dumbly) waited for the elevator again. I reminded Heather, in good humor, to not say anything about elevators getting stuck ever again.

Tips

Last week, I went out with some friends to a restaurant/bar for Trivia night. We always order food and drinks - a pitcher right away. Normally, we get the same waitress every week. She knows us, we know her, she does a good job, and in turn we tip her very well.

It was a different story last week. Our waitress was NOT GOOD. Since I used to wait tables, I had some sympathy for her, but she never redeemed herself. Let's count the ways she messed up:

1. She didn't ask us if we wanted anything to drink when she sat us.

2. When she came back, after 10 minutes, we ordered a pitcher then asked for menus.

3. Ten minutes later (see a trend?) she came back with the pitcher but NO menus.

4. Ten minutes later she came back with the menus.

5. When she came back, we already finished our pitcher, and had gotten a new one from the bar...that's how long she was gone. We ordered.

6. One of us ordered wings and when he asked if he could have sauce on the side, she said "Bleu cheese or ranch?" He corrected her and described "sauce" like mild, bbq, or hot. Then she said, "We have salsa." I had to cover my face, because I was laughing so hard.

7. She came back with our food, and the sauce guy didn't get anything with his wings...no sauce, no bleu cheese, nothing. Just wings. He asked where his sauce was. She forgot.

8. Later, she asked if any of us needed a box. One of us did.

9. She brought us our bill.

10. She collected our bill, we asked for our box since she forgot it.

When she brought us our bill, mine came to $7.90, and since she did a wonderfully awful job, I decided to tip her $.10 and make it an even 8 bucks. What I didn't expect was that she would take our bill before she brought us our "forgotten" box. When she returned with the box, she obviously saw that I only left her a dime, she didn't even look at us. She was peeved.

Honestly, she did a really bad job. I don't feel bad for only leaving her a tiny tip. Her total tip was probably $8.00 total, so she really had nothing to complain about.

I must say that when we left the restaurant we had to pass her and she did not look happy. This was a tough lesson for her. Maybe she will do a better job next time. Hopefully, we won't get her tonight. One word - awkward.

Lawn Gnomes Camping in the Yard

There should be a Regulation Lawn Toy(s) Law. It may be "in style" to put out lawn gnomes in your garden here and there, or eye-pleasing to stick a wind-powered flower light generator in your yard, and it's even welcoming to hang a seasoned flag from your door, but when you cross that thin line of too much stuff in your yard, I have a problem.

And like the saying goes: too much is not always a good thing.

I drive back and forth to work everyday. You see, because I need to go to work and then come back home. Hence: back and forth. While I take this monotonous drive every morning and every night, I pass by this two-story home.

This home could be beautiful. Some little fixes to the siding and the roof would make this house look like a pleasant place to live. The problem is, though, that this place is a dump.

The owners have a hodge-podge of items scattered throughout their front lawn. More like junk than actually items. A run-down pop-up camper sits directly in the front of the house. Poles stick up randomly throughout the yard, a "fort" made out of boards and black and green, ripped tarp sits next to the camper, and lawn ornaments (if I can even call them ornaments) are scattered in no particular fashion throughout. There are boards laying everywhere with words painted on them...none of which say "For Sale" or "Free, please take it so my house doesn't look like a dump!"

If only there was a law that made the owners of this house clean up their place. It amazes me that they can come home every night and manage to navigate through their yard without stepping on a land-mine.

And here's what really bothers me: these people probably have NO problem with how their house looks to the public. I think people should be able to put anything (that is legal) in their BACKyard. The front yard, however, should have some regulations, because this house is an eye sore.

Now, I have always thought that lawn gnomes are pretty frickin' cute. And if there's one hiding in your garden watching over your plants, that's wonderful...because that gnome has a purpose.

On the other hand, if you have a tarp-tent and a gross, old camper sitting right next to each other in the middle of Winter...I have a serious issue with that. It's hard to believe that someone is residing in the holey tarp-tent, or windowless camper in January. No Purpose - get rid of it.

Come on baby, light my...sign

On the way home from my nephew's first birthday last weekend, I couldn't help but notice numerous signs that needed fixing.

Bake Squa - I'm just thankful Bakers Square doesn't have a "w" instead of an "r" in their name.

Flee Farm - I don't think this is the kind of marketing Fleet Farm is looking for when trying to attract customers.

Texas Roadho - ummmm, inappropriate. Yes, inappropriate. But I shouldn't judge, the Roadho's in Texas might be some classy ladies who serve up delectable dishes.

So to all the Minnesota companies and to companies everywhere with lighted signs, keep an eye on your signs. You don't want to send out the wrong message.



And on a completely different note: I saw HARRY POTTER and the Deathly Hallows last night at MIDNIGHT!!! It was amazing. I think it's by far the best one yet. Since I haven't read the books past the second one, I was on the edge of my seat wondering what was going to happen next. I can't wait for part 2 to come out this summer. After that one though, I'm going to read all the books. If you're a Harry Potter fan, this is a must-see.

Paranoid

Sometimes I feel paranoid about things. I think everyone has paranoid moments. It's normal. Everyone can probably think of a time where they thought somebody or everybody was out to get them, or something else...What? Stop looking at me like that.

I can seriously get myself worked up or freaked out about tiny little things. Minuscule things, sounds, looks, whatever. Like this one time on Halloween:

I prepped myself for being alone on Halloween by watching a couple scary movies - mistake number one. Then I looked up the history of Halloween on the internet as it started to get dark outside - mistake number two. When I went outside to check to see if my jack-0-lantern was shining brightly and not on fire, I heard a rustling in the woods. My paranoid mind went straight to "OMG there's a serial killer in the woods, and he knows I'm alone, and the reason why I haven't had any trick-or-treaters yet is because they are scared to trick-0r-treat at the house where the scary man is lurking!!!" So I stood outside for a couple of minutes and just stared into the woods, half hoping to not see something, but still kind of hoping that a gigantic squirrel will jump out with a mouth full of acorns.

Nothing was there, but my mind went straight to the worst possible thought, instead of thinking that a branch could have easily fell from a tree, or a chipmunk ran through the leaves, or the wind blew. No, I had to think of a serial killer.

Another time, just recently actually, had me awake in my bed at 3 o'clock in the morning. The weather outside was frightful, but the fire was sure delightful....oh boy. The weather was bad outside, and I kept hearing noises above me in our "attic." (I air quote attic, because it's not your typical attic. It's rafters) So, I heard a boom, bang, crash, pitter patter noises, and I thought, "OMG someone or something is up in our rafters!!" Then I listened closer and I swear that I heard my car door open. Then I thought, "SOMEONE IS STEALING MY CAR!" And the next thought - "Well, then I'll get a new car."

The more I listened, the more random the noises sounded. I couldn't differentiate what bang was outside or what boom was above my head. I grabbed my cell phone and looked up local news stories on the web, and what did I find??? "Armed Robbery in Altoona, Suspects on the Loose." AHHHHHH, Altoona isn't far from my town, and two men are on the loose! One with a bat and one with a long gun. (Reporter's words, not mine) Que paranoid self and this is what came out: "The two men are robbing our house, very slowly (because now it's almost 5 am, so they've been at it for 2 hours now), they are going to steal my car, and for some reason they are making a lot of noise up in our "attic." OMG, they're stealing our deck furniture that we keep stored up there!!"

Finally I fell asleep, and when I asked my parents about the noise, they convinced me it was snow falling off the trees and blowing on our roof. Then my dad said that it could have been a squirrel stuck in our rafters.

Those darn squirrels.

A Cougar Jingle...who knew?

Would you like to have a commercial jingle stuck in your head?

Me either, but I did have one in my head, and I still do. Here's how it goes..."I'm a cougar. She's a cougar. We're all cougars. Men love cougars. Don't you want to date a cougar tooooooooooo?"

All day I've been singing about cougars!

Have you seen this commercial? The only channel I've seen it on has been FX when I watch It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and The League. It's a commercial about a dating website for men who LOVE cougars...which is all men, because the jingle says so. Apparently, there are enough women in the world who think of themselves as "cougars" that a website is actually successful...or is it? I don't know, and I don't have any interest in knowing.

The women in the commercial do NOT look like cougars. They look like they're in the twenties. So the only way these women can be labeled as "cougars" is if they are also pedophiles. Gross. Unless they are really in their forties....then what the heck, I want to be a cougar too - if my body looks like that and if I'm still single in twenty years. Wow, I hope I'm not single in twenty years.

But really, all that I care about is getting the jingle out of my head. The only good part about the commercial is when a sound clip of a cougar (the animal) roars! It's so funny that I actually laughed out loud. I'm sure cougars everywhere laughed until they peed their Depends.

Here's the commercial for you to watch. Now all of you will have the jingle stuck in your head. It's hard to catch the cougar roar on YouTube, but it's at the 23rd second. Believe me, the roar is more prominent on TV.