The Morning After

Gulp.

What did I DO last night?

My memory has once again failed me the morning after. Not to my surprise, once again, I have left a trail of evidence for myself to discover the following morning.

Laptop history from last night says I tried joining a dating website under the username IAmNOTAllergicToYou. Oh boy. La-di-da-di-da. I'll just delete the profile and then this little five hour "phase" in my life has been erased. There, much better.

Wait, what's this? I've uncovered yet another "secret" gem: YouTube reveals my brother, his fiance, and I made a karaoke video wherein I'm the star of the remake to "I'm Too Sexy."

I'm scared to search further.

"Shannon, you're super funny when you're like that," my brother reveals to me as I make my public appearance for the day, "you need to be like that every night."

I cringe inside that my impaired judgment could have led my body to participate in such activities. Gosh. It's at this moment that I've made yet another grim discovery. Not only was I cringing on the inside. I was cringing on the outside, as well. A bruise shines brightly on my arm, from bumping into walls from last night's stagger.

I check my phone to further investigate last night's escapade and discover that I made a phone call at 12:30 in the morning. Who knows what the crap I said? Oh, that's right, the owner of the voicemail does. I hope I didn't say anything too revealing or embarrassing, but being under this substance kind of warps your mind. 

Now this is getting interesting.

"Do you still find that one joke funny?" My brother asks, "because you couldn't stop laughing at it last night?"

"What joke?"

"What does a gay horse eat? Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaay."

Oh, dear. I'm in worse shape than I thought.

"Or, how about this one: Why did the toilet paper roll down the hill?" He's just teasing me now.

"Why?"

"To get to the bottom!" He says with a grin.

No. Now I'm in worse shape than I thought.

Trying to get away from real-life, I step into my grandma's room. She's pretty entertaining. Maybe she can lead my mind away from my last night's behaviors.

"Hi, Shannon. Did you have a good night last night?" She asks with enthusiasm.

"Yeah...I slept well."

"Good. Because I have plenty more where that came from--let me know if you want anymore. I want to give some to your mom, but she won't take it. You should talk her into using it."

"Okay," I lied.

The Seinfeld theme song goes off. I've received a text. No, wait, my phone's just reminding me that I have unread texts.

"I'm glad you didn't drive here last night in that state of mind," my friend had lovingly texted me.

Surely my judgment was impaired--but to want to drive somewhere under that condition, go out in public like that. I couldn't be more ashamed of myself...

...when I'm on Ambien.

Life's Hardest Questions Answered

How would you respond to this question: Would you rather fight two hundred two year olds or two hundred chihuahuas?

Hard question, right? Well, this is only one of eight questions I had to answer.

If you would like to view my shrewd sheepish shining answers to some difficult questions, then you should head on over to the lovely Simply Kate's blog. You'll be in for a treat. Literally. Sometimes she has pictures of really yummy-in-my-tummy-looking food on her blog. Well, maybe not literally. Her blog isn't a brownie. But her blog sure is sweet! Figuratively. I haven't licked my monitor, so I don't know what her blog literally tastes like. But go over there anyways, you won't be disappointed--she's fun, cute, and...sweet (it's okay, I can honestly say that--I just licked my screen. But it actually tastes more dusty than anything).

Update: I've decided to post my interview on my blog, too.

1. Tell us about you and your blog. (Not really a question, but go with it)

I’m Shannon and I’m short, shy, and sharp. Please take note that all of these adjectives start with “sh,” and in conjunction, are supposed to help you remember my shrewd sheepish shining name. If these techniques fail your memory, then maybe my blog’s name, Shanimal’s Crackers, will be easier to remember. That name is a bit more creative and only played a tad on words.

Oh, man. Like, really, I don’t know how to describe my blog. But I will tell you the definition of my name. Shannon means “short and wise.” I’m not even making that up. And I will say this fact to anyone I come in contact with because it makes me feel Shpecial.

Back to the non-question at hand, I guess my blog could be considered a “humor” blog, but don’t quote me on that. Yeah, pretend those quotation marks aren’t even in the previous sentence—I’m too lazy to delete them.

2. What is your favorite book?

You know what series I find absolutely hilarious? Don’t laugh—or, go ahead and laugh…just not at me—but I recently read all the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series, and those books are pure entertainment. Just my type.

Oh, do I come off sounding unintelligent? Let’s rectify that (dang, I knew I set the bar too high by describing myself as “sharp.” Next time I’ll use the word “shabby.”). I also really like serious books, too: One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and The Help.

3. What makes you a nerd?

Well, if loving Diary of a Wimpy Kid doesn’t, then I don’t know what does. Okaaaaaay, fine, I have a list:

-I like lists

-I mainly listen to 90’s music

-I love cats

-I like Michael Jackson jokes

-I like pun jokes

-I am a punctuation/spelling activist

-I am currently listening to “Carol o f the Bells,” by John Williams, from the Home Alone soundtrack

-I collect board games

-I just downloaded Disneyland’s “Main Street’s Electrical Light Parade” song because it reminds me of the electrical light parade, which makes me happy. I liked all the shiny lights…and Disneyland

-I say “hecka”

-I currently reside in Utah. (Joke. Not the part about me living here, but the part about it making me a nerd. I only said that living in Utah makes me a nerd because I know you, Katie, are from here…you can stop laughing at this hilarious joke now…)

-I hang out with my grandma…and enjoy it

-I can’t believe I forgot this, but …I love Mario! (Not to be confused with the singer, I’m talking about the Mario who’s the star of this joke: What kind of pants does Mario wear? Denim, denim, denim *say it to the tune of the music from when Mario’s underg round*)

4. You have three hours to live. What do you do?

Cry.

5. Describe the perfect sandwich!

Sharp cheddar cheese and mustard. No joke. I remember being in, like, third grade and my mom had made me a cheese sandwich (mustard is ALWAYS involved, sometimes with chips wedged between the cheese and bread—preferably salt and vinegar…or Fritos…or Doritos…or…Cheetos…or cheddar and sour cream…or…). I was minding my own business, going about taking a bite out of my sandwich, when a classmate asked, “Did your mom forget to melt the cheese?” I was too embarrassed to tell the truth. Well, now I’m not afraid to say it to the entire Internet world: No, the cheese wasn’t ever meant to be melted.

This reminds me: I was at some relatives’ a few years ago. One of my cousins was, like, “I’m hungry. I’m going to have a snack.” Then I saw this:

Melted Cheese on a Plate

Weird. There’s not even mustard (or chips…or bread) to accompany it.

6. What would be your ideal job?

I have no idea. One that I love, where the cash flows in, while I do the minimal amount of work. Let me know if you’ve heard of it.

7. What is the most important thing in your life?

Probably my family.

8. Would you rather fight two hundred two year olds or two hundred chihuahuas?

Either way, it’s not a fair fight. I’d surely win.

My Picture-Perfect Relationship

Do you ever get people you don't know texting you pictures...of restaurants and dogs? I do. My pet name for the sender of these messages is Random Michigan Number and we've been in a picturesque relationship since August 2010.
♥♥♥

The most recent text I received:

The girls asleep in the middle of the entryway into the kitchen tonight.

The text I responded with:

The book I read every night.

Let's see how long I can keep this long-distance thing up. I look forward to hearing receiving random photos on my phone from RMN every few months, and you know what? It's picture-perfect.

♥♥♥

For a play by play of my relationship with who I can only assume is an older woman, please see OMG R U 4 Realz and My Long, Lost Friend

The Finger

They don't yield to others who are in the roundabout first.
They don't pull far enough into the intersection when trying to make a left turn.
They don't slow down on yellow lights.
They stop on "merge" and go on "yield."
They are the best at not checking their blind spots when switching lanes.
They pull right in front of you from a sidestreet, only to go 10 mph.
They won't pull to the front slot at gas stations if it means going around the car parked in the second slot.

They are Pootah drivers. Whoops, that slipped. What I meant to say is that they are Utard drivers. Geez, I don't know what I'm thinking. Ahem. Utah drivers.

And I'll tell you what, while driving with Grandma here, I've never heard her this upset since the time I accidentally deleted her recording of The Show Where It's Okay For Men to Have Polyamorous Relationships, The Show Where Moms Are Even Proud That Their Son or Daughter is Featured on This "I Knew I Loved You Before I Met You" Garbage For All to See The Bachelor. But, the drivers here are what they are and it can't be changed. Well, maybe they can change, one driver at a time. Thanks to my grandma...

[True Story] Grams and I are coasting along the freeway, trying to make good time on the pothole-covered road for the 50 miles we had to drive. Grandma has never driven a car before in her life, but she's great at giving directions, "Look out for that big truck," "Watch out for this truck. They scare me," and "You never know what these trucks are going to do."

Well, it's not the big rigs that she needs to be scared of. It's the plethora of minivans.

So there we are, enjoying ourselves, listening to Intergalactic by the Beastie Boys (my grandma thinks my music has "good beats." Sometimes I'm grateful she can't hear very well). But, Grandma should've really taken this verse to heart:

Too sweet to be sour
too nice to be mean
On the tough guy style
I'm not too keen

because right as these lyrics blew threw my only working speaker, a blue minivan started making its way into our lane, putting only a few inches between our cars. Pretty soon, she was halfway in our lane, pushing us over the shoulder of road before she even noticed we were there. When she got back to where she belonged (Drivers Ed, anyone?) in her lane, I made sure to speed up some that I wasn't driving adjacent to her the whole time. But not before Grams felt the need to show the non-checking-blindspot driver who's boss.

How could this sweet, little 82 year old woman, who looks forward to Saturday nights when Lawrence Welk airs its millionth rerun, put bad drivers in their place?

Grams and Kudos, January 2011

The 3 simple steps to letting Utah drivers know they're in the wrong, according to Grandma:

1. Say to other passengers in your car, "Did you see that? [Bad Word]. I'm going to give 'em the finger."
2. Turn to face the bad driver, look her straight in the eye and mutter: You Stupid. (This is more effective if you draw it out to: You Stuuuuuuupid.)
3. Give her "The Finger." Don't just give it to her, but shake it madly, fiercely, as if your finger is Charlie Sheen on drugs Charlie Sheen.

"That'll show 'em."

We continued driving this never-ending-of-construction freeway to our destination, having already survived becoming roadkill, yet still not making a dent in the miles we had left to cover. But after dealing with Utah drivers, you know before even starting your engine, there's a to-do list that you NEED to review.

The 3 simple steps you need to do before driving in Utah:

1. Buckle your seat belt
2. Say a prayer
3. Have your secret weapon in hand (The Finger)

because you don't know what these drivers are going to do. Actually, yes you do.

The next song that came on from my mixed CD: Too Legit to Quit by MC Hammer (Why, yes, I do like listening to quality 90's music, thanks for asking). Then it happenend again. Another one of THEM failed to check their blindspot and, once again, started moving into my lane (Déjà vu, anyone?)--the same lane I've been in the whole time. This minivan, with I love my family but not enough to check my blindspots meticulously plastered on the vehicle's exterior, only realized that, yes, a car is already occupying this lane by the time he was already halfway in our lane.

These lyrics from Too Legit to Quit should be Grandma's theme:

I choose to abuse, misuse, and confuse
Competitors who think they're makin' up all the rules, fools

because as we sped up to pass this typical Utah driver, Grandma uncovered her secret weapon.

CAUTION: The next picture has a PG-13 rating. Please don't view if you're easily offended...

The Finger: Point and Shake the Index Finger

***The Finger also works great outside of driving.
-Did someone knock over your lawn gnome and walk away? Give 'em The Finger.
-Someone stole a cookie from your cookie jar? The Finger.
-Kim Kardashian made a single? The "Other" Finger.

I Smile Grimace at Style

Making its appearance fashionably late is...

Ha. Me? Stylish? I think you got the wrong person, Syida. I'm assuming you didn't see my last post about my hatred for shopping (yes, this includes clothes shopping). But I'll accept the award, anyway. Thank you.

You know who totally deserves this award is my cat, Kudos. She craves this kind of attention. She lives for style. She loves playing dress-up (well, not that she has a choice...). It just makes her feel purrty.

Kudos graciously accepts her award.

Will you accept?

Katie
Betsy
Kelly
Kathryn
Patti
Jillsmo
TV
Kirsten
Tattytiara

If you so choose to accept this award, there are rules that come along with it (because nothing worth having comes easy):

1) Thank with all your heart and link back to the blogger that generously awarded this to you
2) Share with the whole Internet world 7 random facts about yourself
3) Award some great bloggers

I GUESS I better start telling you about myself before this award is swept away from me right under my nose. Here goes:

My Facts

1. Do you know how a completely otherwise delicious cookie or brownie can be ruined? Just add nuts.
2. I am against dressing your dog or cat up in human-like outfits. Unless it's Halloween or something, then it's completely normal...
3. I contradict myself.
4. My ringtone for phone calls is currently "The Breakfast Machine" song from Pee-Wee's Big Adventure. For texts, it's the Seinfeld theme song.
5. I was with my family vacationing in New York City--even stayed in a hotel within the Twin Towers--two weeks before September 11. Two weeks!
6. San Francisco is my favorite city. I'll probably end up writing a post about all the reasons why I love SF, so I won't explain here.
7. My "favorite" number is 13.

Well, I think I've overstayed my welcome with this particular award, so I'm making my fashionable exit (uh, you totally didn't just see me trip right then...).

Be My Guest, Put My Service to the Test...

I just did something I've never done before.

Nope, skydiving is still on the list of things to do. Along with SCUBA diving. Aaaaand going to Africa. Aaaaaand becoming a renowned photographer for National Geographic.

But I am glad that I am now able to say that I have been a guest blogger. Yep. Let's get this par-tay started, shall we?

Uh, you'll need to head on over to Lauren's awesome blog to read some funny/humorous stories (and mine, if you want). And before you're gettin' jiggy wit it at THAT party, don't forget to pick up some root beer, Freschetta pepperoni pizza, and light bulbs on your way over.

Update: I have since decided to have the guest post I wrote for Lauren on my blog as well. Here it is:

I consider myself to be a pretty honest person.

Mom: Shannon, do you want to do these dishes?

Me: No.

Friend: Shannon, I’d like for you to meet Billy. He’s from California too. Isn’t that cool?

Me: Uh, it’s all right.

Stranger: Hi, how are you?

Me: Sad. My cat’s on her deathbed and I had to take her to the vet. I touched her paw to see if I could get a reaction from her, but she just sat there and purred. Usually she’ll bite my hand to pieces. I’m so worried!

But there is one area in life that I suck at telling the truth: while shopping.

“Did you find everything okay?” asks every bright-eyed cashier as I’m checking out.

“Yeah,” I eagerly say to the person who’s ha ndling my macaroni and cheese and my mint chocolate chip ice cream.

I’ll admit it: 78% of the time, my answer to this simple question is untrue. I am guilty. I am bad.

No, I did not find everything okay.

To me, shopping should be like this:

1. Have your shopping list and pen in hand
2. Scribble each item off into oblivion once fo
   und
3. Place found item in cart (or, as southerners say, buggy—as if you need to cradle your precious Cheetos)
4. On to the next item on the list

***No need to lollygag through the aisles looking at products that “You MUST Have!!!”:

Self-explanatory

Ever wanted to be a kangaroo? Now is your chance!

Anything Twilight

But if a situation presents itself to me where I can’t find the light bulb on my list that I so desperately need, I’m frustrated. I’m impatient. I’m not one to “window shop.”

I don’t like having to make my short legs unnecessarily walk up and down every aisle three times only to continuously be confronted with this:

Food, you're supposed to be my friend! You're supposed to give me comfort when I'm feeling down. You're not supposed to reinforce my feeling of stupidity for not being able to find a light bulb. Jerk.

And, better yet, there are no employees on the floor to ask where the light bulbs are located. So you have to go all the way up to customer service, ask where the light bulbs are, only to be directed in the same location where you were looking for the past ten minutes.

Be prepared to walk up and down each aisle at least three times.

So, a few weeks ago, I found myself once again in this situation: “Did you find everything okay?”

The moment of truth finally came.

Do I tell the truth and nothing but the truth? The answer I give can make or break my integrity…or do I give the answer that the cashier is expecting?

After debating in my head whether or not to tell the cashier if I did actually find everything okay, I came to a conclusion.

I would tell the truth.

“No, not really.”

Feeling victorious in the battle that took place in my mind, I felt a sense of freedom. Feeling confident in knowing that what I said was right, I could only anticipate the kind of response I would get. Would she have me fill out a survey for customer feedback on the quality of the store? Would she give me a deal for the items I was purchasing? Would she confide in me that she, too, can’t find anything in this horribly-laid out store? Would she call her manager over to throw confetti above our heads for being brave enough to say what I had actually experienced? Would she deem me best-EVER customer of the month?

Her grand response:

"Oh,”

as she went on duly scanning my purchases.

I finally found the light bulb in my head—cashiers don’t care how your shopping experience went.

But, hey, even though I had a rough time finding items, I had confidence that at the end of my shopping experience, cashiers are ALWAYS checking me out...and they don't even care if I have Cheetos and Doritos under each arm...or that I'm missing a light bulb.

What Kind of Animal Would I Be?

What does a frog,

a fish,

and a cat


all have in common (besides being super adorable)?

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According to my sister, I look like all of the above. Or vice versa. I guess it's because they have big cheeks, and huge eyes are so lovable and cute. Aww, thanks!

But, what am I supposed to say if a potential date asked me if I could be any animal, what would I be AND why?

Would I say, "I would be a dog because I'm man's best friend"? Nuh uh, cliché.


Would I say, "I would be a cat because I can sit on your lap and purr"? Uh, no.


Would I say, "I would be a chameleon because they have big, bulging eyes...just my style I can adapt to any surrounding"? Yes. And I did say it...

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...in front of a group of 50, while on stage competing in a dating game, one of three girls left competing for a blind-folded guy's heart. Do you think my chameleon answer won him over?

If you say "yes" then move on to item #1
If you say "no" then move on to item #2

1. I love you! You're the best. However, as much as you and I both know he should've been smitten by my answer, reality is...he wasn't. Move on to the next question.
2. Hi. You're a good guesser. And this answer is correct. It was just luck on your part, though. Move on to the next question.

Next question:

Who do you think his ideal girl was--the dog or cat?

If you say "dog" then move on to item #3
If you say "cat" then move on to item #4

3. Doggonit, how'd you get that right? That was supposed to be a trick question. Either you guessed (I'm sure of it) or you used this logic: D.O.G.=Daughter of God. Definitely a good trait. After all, a few months ago when I asked my brother about this one girl who had a crush on him, he said, "Well, she's uh...a daughter of God." Move on to the next question.
4. You're almost right. Not quite. Although everyone (I) knows you should be right. Everyone (cat ladies) knows cats are better than dogs, they're only second to chameleons. Move on to the next question.

Next question:

Do you think the dog-girl and blind-folded guy were a good pair?

If you say "yes" then move on to item #5
If you say "no," then you're right. Move on to the next question.

5. Dogs and blind-folded people don't go together. Well, unless you're LOOKING to be guided. But, I don't think this bozo guy was. I think he was just looking for an ordinary girl with ordinary answers to be "man's best friend," if you know what I mean. Move on to the next question.

Next question:

What kind of animal would I describe this blind-folded dude as?

If you say "Your mom" then you're totally off base.
If you say "a dumb

then you'd be correct.

You Like Me, You Really Like Me!

The title of this post is in honors of the Oscars this week. Yeah...also, I got an award (I'd like to thank all the little people that I had to step on to get it--I'm pretty it was 5. Now I can see the world from a normal heighth). Ladies and gentlemen, I'm proud to introduce you to...drum roll...

Ooooh, how embarrassing. It seems we've had a wardrobe malfunction. Cut to commercial break!

AND...we're back. Making her reappearance is...

Special thanks to Cakeologist for this award!

Now down to business. As always, there are rules to receiving a blogging award grumble, grumble:

1. Thank and link back to the blogger who kindly gave you this award
2. Write 7 random facts about yourself
3. Pass this award along to a few other fellow bloggers

Facts

1. The first movie I ever cried in? The Lion King.
2. My favorite Disney cartoon? No, not Home on the Range. 'Twas The Lion King.
3. Which Broadway play have I seen that's based off a Disney cartoon? Beauty and the Beast...and The Lion King.
4. From which movie was my very own first cat, Simba, named after? The Lion King.
5. Which Sega game did I absolutely love to play? The Lion King.
6. I first discovered Elton John from what soundtrack? The Lion King.
7. I've only recently started liking gummy bears. What do they taste like, you ask? According to ChaCha, "...and boogers taste like gummy bears."

As you've seen from my "random" facts, I'm deserving of this award--I'm very versatile.

All good things must come to an end (like James Franco's career after having "hosted" the Oscars). It's only fair for me to share my wealth (sharing is caring, right?). I had fun in the short time I've spent with my award, but it's got to move on. There are many other worthy bloggers out there who deserve it. I'm handing my award over to:

Jenni
Miss 365
The Upside Down Cupcake
Mary
Eileen
Stephanie

Please take good care of this beauty.

And this concludes a fine example of my very versatile blogging style. Stay tuned next time to find out who the next winners are!