Special Delivery

I was young.

I was naive

I was spontaneous.

I was a college sophomore.

And I was bored.

Bad combination.

I've always been big on recycling, thanks to a fourth grade sing-songy program that I participated in for my elementary school. The theme: Recycle, Reduce, Reuse! I still remember the lyrics: Recyccccccle, Reduuuuuse, Reuuuuuuse! Yeah! To stick to my good Samaritan roots that were instilled in me at such an early age, I've strived to reuse anything that's, well, reusable (but only if it's for a good cause).

Examples:

-Have reports from five years ago? Just turn each page around and print your next report on the opposite sides. Your professors will think you're cheap and poor, and guess what, you ARE cheap and poor. Therefore, the professors will have pity on you because you can't afford fresh paper, and will consequently give you a higher grade. Works every time.
-Have old, rotten Halloween candy? Just sell 'em to your younger brother. He will be your number one customer...and only customer.
-Have M&M wrappers, Dorito wrappers, Dasani water labels, ketchup packets, chopsticks, Taco Bell mild sauce packets, and Pizza Hut parmesan cheese and hot pepper wrappers laying around your college apartment? Create a meaty, saucy, sweet, and yummy man: Topher--who will hang around in your kitchen.

Topher with 2 Fans

-Have a dampen room with plain, boring white walls? Just pick up a hubcap from the side of the road and take it back to your apartment. Next, you should paint, and decorate the thang. I used markers and colored the thing to look like the sun. Then I hung it from the ceiling (Well, I didn't hang it from the ceiling). This unusual piece of art will then brighten up any depressing room. Bonus: it will also dramatically cut back your visitor intake. 

-Have a plate of old, hard cookies left on your kitchen table from who-knows-when? Well, then, I have a mighty fine story to tell you about what to do with these. I was attending BYU way back when I committed this random act of kindness, and was just trying to be the good girl, following BYU's motto: Enter to Learn, Go Forth to Serve. Serving is what I do best...especially when it comes to giving cookies away...

But...

My sister and her friend were visiting me for the weekend. Add this element to the mix and it becomes

lethal.

Right. Me entertain my sister and her bubbly friend? Just kill me now. Or then. Not having a car sure limited the activities we could take part in. Hmm. Actually, come to think of it, I guess we all could've taken a joyride in that one shopping cart that I had to push my groceries home in for a few blocks. Hmm. (I hate reflecting on my past because I always think of what I could've done differently).

Fast forward to later in the evening when my sister and her friend were expecting to do something fun. Here you'll get to see our work in the form of entertainment in action...

You will see my sister and her friend dressed incognito. You will hear their voices disguised to having an "Asian accent." You will see me hiding behind bushes with a camcorder, trying to record this once-in-a-lifetime event. You will see my sister and her friend knocking on a random door. You will then see a big, tall black man answer the door (whaaaaaaa? In Utah????? Fo' realz????). You will then see the surprise on my sister's and her friend's face...actually, you won't. They're in disguise, remember?

You will then hear my sister say in her beautiful accent, "Cookies for you," as she stretches her arms out with a plate full of cookies to offer him.

Then you will hear the man boom, "What is this crap?!"

Sister's friend: Cookies for you. (Asian accent still, remember. It makes the whole scenario funnier...to me.)

The dude: You're trying to give this crap to me???

Sister's friend: Cookies...for yooooou?

You will then see the guy turn around to talk to his pals in the apartment. You will see about five guys and a girl just chillin' on the couch, watching the whole awkward instance through the windows.

You will then see the man who is the size of the door frame come back to his "Welcome" mat. Next, you will hear him spew, "YOU are giving ME this crap? I don't want this *bleepity bleep*! Here, YOU eat 'em."

Sister mumbles with none other than, "Cookies for you."

You will see the man getting more mad. You will hear him huffing and puffing. You can only guess that my sister and her friend are shaking in their boots...or, rainbow toe socks over sandals, to be exact.

The man scans the porch, looking to see if this was a joke. Obviously, it was.

"Who the *bleepity bleep* are you?" The man yells at the high school oddly-dressed girls.

You will then hear silence from Sister and Friend. But you will hear snickering coming from my direction.
You will see me trying to zoom in with the camcorder to the looks on Sister and Friend's faces. But you will see nothing. Those dang sunglasses.

You will then hear the man break the silence with his overpowering voice, "Who the *bleepity bleep* are you? And what's this *bleepity bleep* you're trying to give me?!"

"Cookies. For. You."

"What the *bleepity bleep*?"

"Cookies not for you?"

Then you will see Sister and Friend drop the cookies at the man's feet and run like heck.
To my apartment.
That was across the street.

You will see me still hiding behind the bush, not knowing when to leave, as the pals are still looking through the window, and you can see in my face that I'm hesitant to walk past that apartment with a camcorder. You will then see me creep slowly past his apartment window, trying to hide the recorder, acting as if I were not a part of this whole thing that went down. As I walked past his door, still laying on his welcome mat were the cookies that Sister and Friend had so graciously tried to give him:

The cookies that had been sitting in my kitchen for who-knows-how-long, adorned with ketchup "frosting."

Now rewind the Special Delivery to 10 minutes prior to the delivering part. You will see my sister and her friend practicing their "accent." You will see them robing themselves with the most ridiculous clothing. (Cue in scrunchies ornamenting pigtails, rainbow toe socks combined with flip flops, huge sunglasses...) Take two steps to the kitchen and you will see me doing what I do best: recycle, reduce, reuse--but only to be neighborly.

Haha, this is going to be so funny! Let's deliver these cookies...Whoever answers the door won't know what to do. They'll probably look at us as if we're serious...and they'll have to say,  "Thank You"!!!!!!!

We were entertained in the making process before the delivery. Sister and Friend were not entertained during the delivery. We are all entertained with this incident years later.

 And, that is how to reuse perfectly good old, crusty, hard cookies. And guess what, you're doing something very neighborly in the process, because, honestly, most people are happy to receive cookies.

Like a good neighbor, Shannon is there...in the bushes.

The Definition of Disappointment

Do you notice anything wrong with this picture?

No, what's wrong is not the fact that that one dude is scratching "down there"...while being interrogated. It's also not wrong that he's smiling while doing it--because everyone who has ever been interrogated by a cop for raping a young, helpless girl scratches down there and smiles while being questioned. Certainly.

There's still something unsettling about this picture, though. The wrongdoing is tugging at my emotions and makes me want to cry. I cannot believe 20/20 has allowed this grave wrongdoing to appear on their show! Needless to say, I'm severely disappointed, 20/20.

You still don't see it?

Now do you see anything really, really wrong?

I was supposed to be watching 20/20's hour-long show on how a woman was stuffed in a suitcase, after being brutally raped, and dumped in a field left for dead. She survived. But as soon as I saw the horrid clip above, I lost any focus that I ever had (which was 46%) on the show. I just cannot say how let down 20/20 has made me feel. 20/20 is supposed to give insight into the world around us, that we may have not known otherwise, but all I can think of is how I can't trust this show as a news source if they can't even using correct spelling and punctuation. I've been watching 20/20 ever since Hugh Downs and Barbara Walters were the hosts, and never have I noticed mistakes on their show as I have within the past few weeks. What's up wit dat, yo?

Just in case you couldn't tell, my number one pet-peeve is when your and you're are used interchangeably. I don't care if you end your sentences with a preposition. I don't care if you start your sentence with because. I don't care if you overuse commas. I certainly don't care if your "sentence" isn't really a "sentence." Considering I write fragmented sentences all the time<---That's a sentence fragment. Heck, do I even care if you end a question with a period. Yes, but right now let's pretend that I don't.

You should never ever confuse your and you're because these two words have totally different meanings. Just as to, two, and too do. Just as there, their, and they're do. Just as hear and here do. Who's and whose. Then and than.

Confusing your and you're is like Eminem writing in his lyrics:

'Sup, homies?

I'm a wrapper.

Wanna be like me?

...Become a cracker.

But...he's NOT a wrapper--he's a rapper. How confused would his fans be if they read in People magazine, "Eminem, the wrapper, is touring San Francisco"? We wouldn't know whether Eminem had changed professions and now wraps gifts for a living. Or, we could think that People accidentally misprinted Eminem and it was supposed to say M&M. Then we start wondering to ourselves, I wonder why an M&M wrapper is on tour. What, did Justin Bieber touch it or something? Or, we could simply think whoever wrote that article is stupid because they don't know the difference between a rapper and a wrapper. Your homework assignment: Write a sentence using lose and another sentence using loose. Turn your homework into my comment section by 5 PM sharp.

To make it simple: you're=a contraction for the words you + are. So, anytime you would say "you are," you can just say you're.

Now that we've covered the your from the interrogation, it's time to move on to adding commas. Let's <------contraction for let + us look at this picture:

Which sentence do you think would be the correct sentence to use to describe this photo of Grams chewing on a piece of pizza?

Let's eat Grandma!

or

Let's eat, Grandma!

The first sentence is implying that you're shouting to your other family members that you're hecka excited to start chowing down on Grandma pizza. I know I'm a picky eater and all, but I don't think my grandma would taste very good.

But...I can infer from the second sentence that I'm yelling (because she can't hear) at Grandma that it's time to eat.

See how important commas are? Let's take a second look at our original sentence:

That's what your telling me right?

The above sentence makes virtually no sense. Confusion.

vs.

That's what you're telling me, right?

This is what I think you just told me. Am I correct? Muuuuuuch better.
 
Oh, and let me just say here and now that I wouldn't ever hire Elaine Benes to be my editor. My reasoning is based on one sentence I heard her say in one episode of Seinfeld: I could care less.

Okay, here we go. Another test. Is it:

I could care less

or

I couldn't care less

The second option is correct. If you "could care less", then why are you even talking about that subject??? When someone says this,  I couldn't care less about what they have to say because I'm so distracted by them saying I could care less. If you say "I COULDN'T care less," that means that there is nothing less that you care about. You're saying that you care so little already that you couldn't possibly care any less.

I'm willing to overlook your shortcomings, 20/20, if you promise not to disappoint again.

Oh, crap.

In other news, now that we're all in a cheery mood, head on over to Jess's blog to see my list of 10 Simple Things That Make Me Happy.

ShanWOW!

This is just for you, Miss 365. You suggested I make my own award with my own rules...so I did. This should teach you to be careful of what you wish for. Or suggest. So, here, I'll pass this thang on to you, because I sure as heck don't want it--it's U.G.L.Y. (and this guy ain't got no alibi for looking like a raptor). But your blog makes me say, "Oooooh, hey, what? It's, like, wow!"

RULES:

-Tell us your five most-played songs from your iTunes.

-Make a wish.

-Say the magic word. (For those of you who don't know, it's "Shidobee.")

-Did your wish come true? No? Then you're not saying it with enough emotion. Try again. This time, try yelling shidobee at the next thing that moves. It'll scare the crap out of it.

-Still no? Dang. Oh, well. It's a good thing you have this crappy (I mean this literally and figuratively, because, hey, if you did the above instructions then it really made someone shidobee) award to fall back on. Thank me later.

I changed my mind. I give this ShanWOW award to everyone who reads skims this post. That means you. And YOU. Hey, that old man standing behind you who's sneaking a look over your shoulder at your computer screen? Yep, this one's for him too. And for these very special people:

Santa

My bro

Grams

Belinda

Random Michigan Number

You're Welcome.

I'm So Versatile, Guys

I'm so versatile, guys. This award from Nabo proves it:

Now do you believe that I'm versatile? No? Here's more proof--I'm so versatile that this is the second time I've received The Versatile Blogger award--yet this one's in YELLOW, not GREEN! To match contradict the green Versatile Blogger award, I've created her a partner nemesis.

Hi, I'm totally not like the other Versatile award. I'm much more suave. Oh, and my name's Fred.

See, the yellow and green awards are totally not alike at all--very much different--versatile, if you will.

Ahem.

There are rules to receiving this award. But, I'm so different from anyone else here on Blogland that I don't have to follow rules, right? Fiiiiiine. So I'm not versatile. I'll conform to the rules like everyone else. Let's get to the grit of this ceremony, shall we?

Thing I have to do Number One: Tell everyone who I received this award from.
Thing I have to do Number Two: Tell everyone my dirty secrets. Whoops. What I meant was "Tell everyone seven totally and completely RANDOM facts about myself." Because if you're not random enough, then you don't deserve this versatility honor...
Thing I have to do Number Three: Give this super unrelated-from-all-the-other-awards-out-there prize to seven other versatile bloggers.

This is going to be FUN.
Totally and Completely RANDOM Facts:

1. I'm currently listening to Better Man by Pearl Jam. Bet you didn't know that, now did you? Yeah, that's what I thought.

2. Now I'm listening to Walk on the Ocean by Toad the Wet Sprocket.

3. I ate some Baskin Robbin's chocolate mint ice cream cake today and it was goooooooood.

4. These are all boring facts.

5. My absolute most favorite saying, ever: Drink Apple Juice 'Cause OJ Will Kill You. One year my friend gave me a mug with this slogan on it...but I don't know where in the freak that mug is. Dang. Yesterday I designed myself a bumper sticker with this saying on it. I really need to get a shirt with this saying. It's just so classic.

6. As we were driving around Anaheim last year, I saw this car with this, like, oh-my-gosh-freakin'-fantastic vinyl sticker...of the silhouettes of the hitchhikers from Disneyland's Haunted Mansion. I just HAD to get that mint green vinyl decal. I searched high and low (but mostly low) in every gift shop at Disneyland and California Adventure for that sticker. Never found it...until I was on Etsy.com months later and found the lady who made all my dreams come true. Thanks to her, I now have the hitchhikers on my car. (No, no hitchhikers allowed IN the car.) Too bad no one in Utah even knows the reference to my sticker. #Winning. #Fail.

The vinyl decals are basically replicas of this Disneyland poster.

The lady was so nice that she even sent 3 stickers for the price of one! Now, if only I had 3 cars. Someday...

7.  Wait, here's something exciting to say: I played the game Telestrations today. I know you're jealous. Oh, dang it, that wasn't very exciting, was it?

7.25. Let me attempt to say something interesting, please? Okay, thanks. Guys, get this...yesterday I played the game The Poll Game (not to be confused with The Pole Game). And it was fun.

7.5. Attempt infinity to say something of interest: I'm listening to The One by the Backstreet Boys now. Yeaaaaaaaaah, buddy. Buddies.

Now...

I Bestow This Gift to:

Katie

Lauren

Katrina

KitKat

Stacey

Elizabeth

Alice X

Let me write a poem here, because I need to show off my versatility skillz (I bet you didn't know All-4-One was referring to me with their whole "She's Got Skillz" get-up, did ya?):

THE

    N

    D



PS: Waaaaaaaait, I just thought of something amusing to write: I just listened to Out of My Head by Fastball and I'm currently listening to Triple Trouble by the Beastie Boys! (You don't know how relieved I feel just knowing that I said something interesting on this post. YES!)

Art is Dead

What? You don't believe me? I don't lie. My grandma found him on the sink. She thought his lifeless body was a rock. A pet rock, I guess. When she picked him up and brought him closer to her eyes is when she realized that she was holding yet another one of my fish who had jumped to its demise.

Rest in Peace the Sewer,

Art

A baby's tombstone I discovered in Vallejo, CA

Since I started blogging in August, I've had the grand total of, uh, 4 fish dying:

-7 (named from a Seinfeld episode)
-Soda (named from a Seinfeld episode)
-Omega (he was a Betta fish. Get it?)
-Art (named from a Seinfeld episode)

Well, there aren't very many fish left in the sea bowl now. All I have left is Vandelay (named from a Seinfeld episode), who is nothing without his other half, Art (shh, don't tell him I said that). Art and Vandelay were a team. There just went together. They were like peanut butter and jelly, like salt and pepper, like yogurt and Cheez-its. Vandelay is going to miss Art. I think.

Art's Obituary Oh, Fishy Airy Ofishiary

Art, for the love of Cod, why'd you have to clam up? You should've cried for kelp. Dropped me a line. I could've tried not to be crabby, and would've been touchy-eely to your feelings. Oh, who am I kidding? I would've given you a bass-whooping. That must've been why you acted all koi, as if you were having a whale of time. Why were you hooked on acting fishy? I shouldn't have fallen for this bait, you little shellfish shrimp.

Art, you were named after one of the most notorious non-existent TV characters of all time: Art Vandelay. And now I'm disappointed that you've gone off the air, much like Seinfeld. Now you're exported, like Art Vandelay.

Tuna in soon for the next obituary.

Balloons

We all have fears. Some are scared of failure, spiders, or heights, while others are scared of pickles, cotton balls, or chickens. I have a lot of fears, but I guess my number one phobia would be coulrophobia: the fear of clowns. Not really. But let's pretend here, okay? My cat, Truffles, on the other hand, is deathly afraid of balloons. Phobias just can't be explained.

Well...actually, they can, because right now I'm about to trace back to how my cat came to shudder at the sight of balloons...

It was a nice, summer day, when my best friend came to my house to celebrate my sister's birthday. Truffles was only a few months old (9 years ago), still very much impressionable.

My best friend loved ladybugs, and appropriately, gave my sister a huge helium-filled ladybug balloon to help spread cheer on my sister's special day. But for Truffles, it became known as The Day That Went Down Like a Lead Balloon. Apparently, ladybugs represent luck. And luck is the exact opposite of what happened to Truffles on that fateful day.

The ladybug was out to get Truffles (or, in other words, my friend was chasing my cat around with the balloon).

Can you imagine being chased around by a creature thingy that is three times the size of you? Oh wait, I can. It's called my older brother (if you're reading this, I'm only kidding, bro). He would chase me after I'd knock on his door and runaway when he had friends over. Typical brother-sister relationship, heh. Truffles was probably thinking Why in the heck is this bug following me? Probably because it wanted to be her friend...right? (This is what I tell myself to justify the unforgivable [lack of] action I took to prevent my cat from having an irrational fear of a big, mean, floaty thing). Yes, the ladybug just wanted to be friends.

And the ladybug would not settle. She was going to gain a new friend; preferably, a cute, fluffy one. Unfortunately, I was overlooked.

Truffles tried hiding everywhere.

Under the table.

Under the bed.

Behind the desk.

In the occupied litterbox--next to her arch nemesis, Kudos, no less.

Unsuccessfully, Truffles tried camouflaging herself within the hoards of stuffed animals on my bed. The ladybug was just too smart. She (he?) could tell the difference between a replica of E.T. and a cute, fluffy living organism. Once again...I was overlooked. Are you noticing a pattern here?

I don't remember how this cat-and-mouse chase ended. Maybe Truffles gave up trying to run away and gave in to the little bugger of a beetle. Maybe she got away by running out the cat door. Maybe she finally outran the creepy-crawly my friend. But all that matters at the end of the day is that Truffles cannot be in the same room as a balloon.

So, how do you think she reacted two months ago when she saw Grandma's Valentine's balloons?

Like this, of course:


I'll tell you what, though, I think I'd be scared of balloons, too--especially if they're strung along by a clown...

...like Heidi Montag.

Ahem. Back to Truffles.

The only advice I can give her is: Life's a Circus. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show--especially when a clown falls on its face.

Let Them Eat Cake!

Ever since living in Utah, I feel like I've come in contact with a lot of talented bakers.

Take, for example,

Cakes from the school bakery contest:

A Pizza Cake!

A Fishbowl Cake!

A Hotdog and Fries Cake!

I was so shocked with how well these cakes turned out. How can people be so creative? Then I saw

Cakes from Midway Country Corner:

A Reeses Pieces and Popcorn Cake!

A Bumble Abominable Snowman Cake!

A Sweetarts Cake!

I'm proud to say that creativity runs a little bit through my family. This can be seen in a

Cake by my dad:

A Pyramid Cake!

Yeah, Utah, I know I'm going to fit right in. Mostly because my "creations" turn out looking like I had intended. Kind of like this

Cake by my mom:

"Cat food with chocolate on it?"
[Pause] Uh, It's An..."Earthquake" Cake...! Yeah.