I Am Your Sunshine, Your Only Sunshine

Usually I find myself responding to "that one short girl," my sister's name, or quite simply, "hey, butthead." You know, the usual pet names. However, tonight I find myself being called something that I've never been called before: The Most Sunshine Blog, thanks to Syida. Because if my blog ain't sunshine and daisies, then I don't know what is.

I don't see any sunshine on this picture. I might have to rectify that. Or change the name of the award.

Guys, I just have to tell you that I've been typing in silence. So...I decided to turn on some iTunes to keep my mind from exploding. Know what's really funny (well, besides this joke: How do you wake Lady Gaga up? Poke her face!)? Well, the song that decided to play is...Steal My Sunshine by Len! I don't even know what the heck this song is about, but I love the irony of the whole situation. Kind of like I love cake. But now I'm starting to like ice cream more and more. Mmmm, especially Baskin Robbin's Lucky Mint ice cream. That stuff is to die for. Well, not really. I wouldn't die for ice cream. But, then again, maybe I would from overeating it.

Anyways, you don't need to steal the above award if you really, really, really, really want it. All you have to do is ask. But I'll probably say no. So, if you really, really, like, really (x10.73) want The Sunshine Award 2011, just join the blog hop at the bottom of this post. All you need to do is link up your blog's url and, voila! Millions of other bloggers will stop by your blog and take a looksie. Well, maybe not millions. More, like, hundreds. Pretty good deal, huh? It's a win/win situation for everyone: YOU receive a fabulous award, YOU get more visitors to your blog, and YOU are special (plus, you know, all this stuff about me giving you awards and thingies only makes me look like I'm a saint).

Yes, I really DO look like a saint...a saint who makes flowers blossom from the glow of my stunning face.

Join this blog hop if you want The Sunshine Award 2011 award. If you don't want the award, fine. You're more than welcome to put my altered version on your page. I know that's what you really want. There's no need to be shy here, we're all friends, right? Well, according to this blog hop, we are!

1. Follow HOST'S and CO-HOSTS' blogs through GFC.

Host-Tawna's Journey to a Healthier Me (Click this link to add your blog to the hop!)

Co-Host-My Journey with Candida

Co-Host-Shanimal's Crackers

2. Grab the button and put it somewhere on your page.

To link to this blog, copy and paste the code below into your site. This hop is scheduled to be open until Sunday night at midnight EST.

<a href="http://tawnasplan..com" target="_blank"><img src="http://i754.photobucket.com/albums/xx183/tawna6988/Decorated%20images/Hearts.jpg" border="0" alt="Tawnasplan" /></a>

I got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine (oh, so that's why my jeans aren't fitting as well. And here I thought it was just from all the Lucky Mint ice cream. Wow, I'm dumb). I got a love and I know that it's ALL mine, oh, whoa ooooooh.

Oh, wait, it's not ALL mine. You did steal my sunshine. Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.

100% Reason to Remember the Name

Disclaimer: I wrote this story on behalf of my friend, "Rochelle."

“So, how was your week? Is there anything you want to talk about?” he asked, the same way he’s been starting out our conversations for the past eight weeks. He is reliable.

“Yeah, how do you remember all the people I talk about? I mean, like, how do you remember their names? Because it seems like you remember all the people I mention. I know you take notes after each session, but what are you writing down?” I ask with wondering eyes.

“Oh, I just jot down what we talked about. What your struggles were that week, etc.,” my one (and only) confidant notes.

Wow, he knows everything about me. He just knows me so well.

:10 minutes later:

“…So I printed out this worksheet for you to complete this week throughout the next few weeks. Try and fill it in everyday,” he mentions as he hands the slip of paper over to me.

I nod my head that, yes, I would try and complete this task, all the while intensely focusing on the words Jessica’s Daily Activities that were displayed proudly atop the paper.

“…So, in this box you would mark on a scale of 1-10 how you felt that morning. Then in this box you would mark how you felt that evening. The point of this activity is that I want to see what you’ve done that day that has impacted how you feel. I know Jessica enjoys blogging. So, say, blogging could be one of the activities that you mark that has helped you that day. You’ve also mentioned that you like being outside and doing yard work. You could also mark that down,” he continues to explain to me how exactly to fill out this little project that was printed a week ago.

“How do you feel about this? Do you have any questions?” he tends to ask me this question after every statement he makes.

“Uh, yeah, just one question: who’s Jessica?”

“You…” Um, do I have another personality that I’m not fully aware of?

“I’m not Jessica.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“…You’re Jessica MyLastName (how’d he even know how to pronounce my difficult last name???),” he says with a slight hesitation, as if he’s trying to confirm to himself that he isn’t mistaken.

“Uh, that’s not me.”

A brief pause of silence.

“…Then what’s your name?”

“Rochelle,” I say, slightly embarrassed that I even brought the whole Jessica issue up.

Crap! he’s probably thinking to himself, I’ve just lost another client.

“I guess I spoke too soon about you knowing everyone’s names,” I remark…not knowing what else to say.

Wow, he knows everything about me…except my name.

Awkward silence.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry...sooooo, tell me the lowpoints of this past week..." He didn't know how to respond either.

This is why I’m in therapy.

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!

(Not Cute) Pet-Peeves

1. When your and you're are used interchangeably.
Hey, your cool. Is that you're dog? I think your my new best friend. Can I be you're valentine? See, isn't that annoying?

2. Those who feel the need to name their kid something weird.
We all know about Gwyneth Paltrow and Apple. Apple????? Might as well have named your precious daughter Watermelon. There's no difference--you're kid is still a fruit. So, we've all heard of the words apple and watermelon. But what do you do when someone makes up a word and names their kid that? It's like the parents' thought process is, I have a name that, like, people have heard of. I don't like it when people can read my name and pronounce it on the first try. I want to make teachers who are calling roll butcher my child's name, so then the teacher will have to ask if she pronounced the child's name correctly, and the kid can be so used to his name being butchered that he's expecting it to be butchered, and he's proud of this fact, and the fact that he can make the teacher look stupid for saying his name incorrectly.

3. People who liked Napoleon Dynamite, or those that continue to quote it.
That movie is lame. I didn't laugh once throughout the whole thing. People told me I'd like it better if I saw it more than once. Well, guess what! I watched it about 35 times (because BYU students were obsessed with it at the time) and I still think it's horribly stupid. If you want to quote something good, I suggest watching Dumb and Dumber. I mean, compare the quotes: Vote For Pedro vs. We Got No Food, No Jobs, Our Pets' Heads Are Falling Off!

4. Skinny girls who think they're fat.
You know what I'm talking about. You walk into a room and there's, like, this 5'10" model-like girl who's pretty and gorgeous and all that junk. You scan her over and within a second you tell yourself that she can't weigh more than 105 pounds. Then, when she's offered her a saltine cracker, "Oh no, dahlin', I'm watching my figure. I've been on Weight Watchers all my life and I need to keep this weight. If I gain three pounds I would absolutely die!! That would be the end of me. In fact, I need to lose 10 more pounds--you can never lose enough, sweetie. I won't stop criticizing myself and making those around me feel uncomfortable until I look like Karen Carpenter."

5. People who are happy ALL THE TIME.
Yeah, positive people are nice to be around, but if your happy during every circumstance, every bad situation, every single little thing, I'm going to think your fake, or a robot whose button is set on Uncontrollable Optimism...or something. "Oh hey, guys, I just got a flat tire on the freeway, but it's super fantastic because I still have three good tires. I mean these other tires are practically new and they do their job so well. I really love my tires! Having three tires is just dandy because these remaining three can still keep each other company. That reminds me of Three's Company--I love that show! Hehehehe, Jack Tripper is SO funny. But, what's actually funnier is my tire blowing out on the freeway that could've gotten me killed is really a blessing because I swerved from running over the candy wrapper because I thought it was a squirrel...but it wasn't a squirrel! Anyways, I ended up running over a nail instead, but I'm so happy that I put my life and others' in danger to keep from killing an innocent little creature who was somehow lost on the freeway. I love life and even little squirrels deserve the chance to have one! And I'm glad I get to go buy a new tire because I LOVE to shop! So, actually, me getting a flat tire is giving me a reason to go out and shop for a new tire who could be the other three tires' companions. I'm ecstatic about the whole situation..."

Oh, I see you're not smiling anymore, huh? What's there not to be happy about?

Identity Crises

Have you ever stopped to think about the things in this world that don't seem to fit the "mold"? Maybe it's just me. I don't fit the mold. Heck, I don't even fit correctly on an adult bike. And maybe it's just me who thinks and ponders about "the mold"--no, not mold on cheese. Like, is tomato pronounced tuh-mey-toh or tuh-ma-toh? Obviously, it's pronounced the first way (I know because when you push the "speak" button on dictionary.com it says so), so I don't know whose idea it was to speak the latter.

On the topic of tomatoes...

What's the deal with them being classified as a fruit and then being treated as if they're a vegetable? I mean, fruit in a salad?! Bizzare...unless, it's a fruit salad. Maybe that's why I don't like salad--you just don't mix fruit with lettuce. Disgusting. Tomatoes, you're really a fruit, hence you don't belong in any kind of salad unless it's fruit salad. Wikipedia has this to say about how you should be treated:

Tomatoes have been designated the state vegetable of New Jersey. Arkansas took both sides by declaring the "South Arkansas Vine Ripe Pink Tomato" to be both the state fruit and the state vegetable in the same law. In 2009, the state of Ohio passed a law making the tomato the state's official fruit.

Different states are telling you that you're two different types of food, tomatoes. I'm sorry that you're so confused as to which role to play during your little lifetime. It must be really confusing for you. My verdict: if you're a fruit then act like a fruit. The end.

Rhubarb...

What's the deal with them being classified as a vegetable and then being treated as if they're a fruit? I mean, vegetable in a pie?! Bizarre...unless, it's...no, vegetables should never be made into a pie. That would be like me saying, Hey, I have this great idea. Let's make celery pie! Umm, no thanks. Rhubarb, you're really a vegetable, hence you don't belong in any kind of pie. Period. Wikipedia has this to say about your identity:

Rhubarb is considered to be a vegetable; however, in the United States a New York court decided in 1947 that since it was used in the United States as a fruit it was to be counted as a fruit for the purposes of regulations and duties.

Let me get this straight: You're born a vegetable. You have all the vegetable parts. But since you're being treated as if you're a fruit, the USA changes your identity to fruit? I can see the confusion displayed all over your little stick body. My verdict: if you're a vegetable then act like a vegetable. The end.

Ladybugs...

There's perplextion written all over these poor creatures' faces. First, they have the word lady in their name. Second, they have the word bug in their name. Two pieces of false information. These insects can be both male and female. So why the lady in their title?

The name "ladybird" originated in Britain where the insects became known as "Our Lady's bird" or the "Lady beetle". Mary (Our Lady) was often depicted wearing a red cloak in early paintings and the spots of the seven spot ladybird (the most common in Europe) were said to symbolise her seven joys and seven sorrows. In the US, the name was adapted to ladybug.

So, Britain pinned this on ya little guys. Oh gosh, am I blurring your self-image even more by calling you guys since you're apparently ladies? Now I'M confused. I just don't know what to call you. Just change your name altogether. I have an idea; how about Those Insects That Everyone Calls Bugs But Who Aren't Bugs That Everyone Thinks Are Sooooo Cute That They're Often Associated With Little Girls Along With Butterflies (Aww man, are butterflies actually made from butter...?) And Rainbows.

Besides the whole lady thing, we now have the fact from the ever-trustworthy Wikipedia (again) that you are in fact NOT bugs. That's right. You heard me. Apparently you're really coccinellids, a type of insect. I'm done trying to fit you into a certain category. My verdict: if you're an insect that act like an insect. Oh wait, you already do that. Well then, if you're a lady, then act like a lady. But, not all of you are ladies. You're probably an even mixture of males and females. Hmm...here we go: if you're cute, then continue acting cute. The end.

Michael Jackson...

"It don't matter if you're black or white". Oh really, Michael? Then...what's with all the changes...to your hair?

My verdict: if you're Michael Jackson then you make really good music. The end.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...?

I worked at a movie theater many, many moons ago. Around seven years ago, though, one night I was put on podium. For those of you who don't speak theater language, this means that my job for that night was to be the greeter and ticket ripper who greets and then conducts the customers to their appropriate screen.

It's horrible to be put on podium. So repetitive. So, when a guy walked into the complex and asked me if I knew where a mirror was, I was glad to have a change of pace and was able to direct someone to the bathroom instead of theaters, of which I was sick of saying Blah Blah is in theater xyz to your right.

Our conversation went something like this:

The dude: Do you know where a mirror is?
Me: Yeah, in the bathroom...
The dude: Okay, thanks.

Thrilling, right? I told him to go ahead and go to the bathroom (since, obviously, that's where mirrors usually are). The guy headed for the bathroom. For a few seconds, I just asked myself how this dude could not know where a mirror would be. Strange people in this world, I tell ya. Then, I moved on in my train of thought and continued with my Blah Blah is going to be in theater zyx to your lefts.

A couple of minutes later, the mirror guy approaches me (again!). What can I expect from him now? Where could he find toilet paper?

The dude: A mirror's not in there. You mean, you didn't see that whole wall that was plastered with your reflection?
Me: Okay...I'm pretty sure a mirror's in there.
The dude: No, I checked and didn't see him in there. Oh great, this guy is giving the mirrors genders and naming them? Geez.
Me: Him?
The dude: Yeah, you know, a mirror.

----------------------Long pause----------------------

Me: Umm...oooooooh. You're talking about Amir! Oh, yeah, I think he's working concessions tonight.

Alas, the mirror dude just wanted to see Amir (which is conventiently prounounced like a mirror). It just made so much more sense! Who's the dumb one now, Shannon? Why don't I just go take a look in the mirror...which is in the bathroom. (That's also where toilet paper is kept, for your information).

The Best Band Name

As I'm sitting here listening to music, I can't help but wonder: How do bands come up with their names? Seriously. Some names are most excellent (Chumbawamba) and some don't hit the "most excellent" mark (The Turtles). But, I would have to say that the most original/well thought out band name goes to...drum roll, please...dun, dun, dun...drum roll continues...Dave Matthews Band! Yes, the Best Band Name award goes to them because they're just so darn clever.

My brain likes to collect random tidbits of useless information and these facts are automatically inserted into my storage vault. Example: I heard that that the creator of Family Guy, Seth MacFarlane, was supposed to be on one of the 9/11 flights but couldn't make his flight. Was his life preserved? Hmm...maybe so that he could create a fourth season. I'm not too sure on whether this next story I'm about to share, though, is actually a fact. But I like this story, so we'll pretend for the sake of this entry that it is indeed true:

There was a little-known band (at the time) who would play in bars. Unfortunately, since no one had heard of them (because they weren't yet famous, obviously) no one would come watch them. This made the band frustrated. Not knowing what to do to get more people to their gigs to hear their stupendous music, this band had to get creative. And their creativity paid off! Outside the bar, the band had decided to paint a sign and place it directly outside of the bar to attract more people. Do you know what words they painted on the sign? Of course you don't, because I haven't told you yet...well, this brilliant band painted...drum roll, please...dun, dun, dun...drum roll continues...Barenaked Ladies. This sign was so successful in attracting people into the bar (who were probably disappointed it was only a band playing, and no nude women) that the band decided to lay this name upon themselves. Forever. And ever. The end. Oh, and it seems that a lot of people--especially those in Utah--don't like saying Barenaked Ladies (because there are too many syllables or because it's awkward to say aloud? Hmm...), so they can also be known as BNL.

Actually, I take back the Best Band Name award I gave to Dave Matthews Band. It should now go into the hands of...drum roll, please...dun, dun, dun...drum roll continues...Butthole Surfers. For being so classy. Thank you. And, Butthole Surfers, I expect you to display your trophy where it can be seen by others (like on a bookshelf) and don't try and get creative by displaying it up where the sun doesn't shine (yes, I'm referring to the first half of your band name).