Things That Make Me Happy, Volume I: Y'All

I figured I had better post something of this nature because it occurred to me that I probably look like a very sad/angry biznatch right now who's jamming to the likes of Alanis Morrisette and Avril Lavigne. While I'm still dealing with the circumstances which led to my emo post of a couple weeks ago, I'm actually doing somewhat better. And thanks to everyone who has checked up on me since.

Eesh, that was sort of a mushy start.. maybe we try and pick up the tempo here? Fantastic!

Now, while the people who actually choose to read the word vomit I like to call a blog (especially the crazies who actually find it funny!) are more than special to me, the "y'all" I'm talking about in this case is actually the term itself.

Let me just say that I grew up in California, where there was no "y'all" to speak of. In fact, I would tease people who said "y'all" (as well as anyone with any form of regional accent--and it was totally endearing; I love accents! Promise). However, since I started living in the South, I've noticed the term slipping itself gradually into my daily vocabulary.

I'll admit, the first time I used it, it was totally forced. I was determined to try it out after about a week of living here, and was trying to get directions on a college campus.

For whatever reason, I was irrationally nervous about this, as if it was my first time on a pair of skis or something. I could feel my heart beating in my closing throat as I felt fresh forehead shine that had nothing to do with the smothering heat and humidity. As a result, and as I said, it was totally forced. It probably sounded something like a dying seagull.

The people from whom I was trying to get directions looked at me like an alien (duh, they knew I wasn't from around here if I was asking for directions). But I also felt totally awkward, as if I just rolled over land mines made of missed social cues.

In retrospect, I probably just felt that way because I just forced "y'all" to come out of my throat. I only learned later that you have to ease into it. So, instead of trying to hurl "y'alls" around, I started saying "you all" in lieu of "you guys,” and eventually worked my way down to “y’all.” And once I heard that "you guys" is actually grammatically less correct than "you all," I became officially hooked. (What can I say? I'm a rules chick.) And can you believe it? I now actually have an aversion to the phrase "you guys." Insane! I never would have seen that one coming.

The thing that's so great about "y'all" (other than it being grammatically correct) is its ability to be slipped out very quickly in conversation. Instead of wasting an entire syllable on the word “guys,” “girls,” or “all,” you can speed right through whatever it is you’re saying.

Also, who couldn't love a phrase that comes up in the lyrics of a song made by a fake Australian band, part of which gets stuck on a mysterious moving island packed with polar bears, smoke monsters, and buttons that save the world? Seriously, every time I hear “you all” I have the urge to finish the phrase with “everybody!” And then I have Charlie’s high falsetto stuck in my head for HOURS. It’s great!



I’m pretty sure I’m going to continue to say “y’all,” even after I leave South Carolina.

Things that Make Me Angry, Volume I: Purses

We’re supposed to think that they’re helpful, but have you ever noticed that the bigger the purse, the more crap you tend to carry? It’s as if they’re innate black holes that pull all manner of things easily into a vortex of junk. Typically, this is how it’ll happen:

But then it doesn’t take too long before you find more unnecessary things filling up the space, either to carry them for yourself or for someone else (usually a man). It’ll start with the essentials: keys, wallet, cell phone.

But then you start thinking of difference scenarios, and you want to be prepared in any situation:

It might be sunny: sunglasses!

Going to work? Better bring that key card that lets you into the building.

Have a smart phone? All those apps probably run down your battery, sooo you’d better bring you charger, because losing your connection to the cyberworld would be all-out DEVASTATING.

You also might want to listen to music at some point. Earbuds!

Afraid you might get hungry? Nutrition bar!

What if your lips start getting chapped? Chapstick!

What if you can’t find your first chapstick? Chapstick #2!

What if you randomly decide to go shopping? Bring the gift cards that you’ve been saving for forever in your “second wallet” (which of course is bigger than your main go-to wallet).

Seriously. A second wallet.

I literally have all of these things in my purse right now—as well as littered receipts, a digital camera I don’t even use now that I have a smart phone, a book about law school (I try to read when I have spare minutes in my week), a blank book in which I write my blog thoughts when I’m away from my laptop, hand sanitizer (for obvious reasons), about FIVE sticky notepads (seriously?? Why do I need so many?? That’s ridiculous!!), and an empty bag that used to hold Starbucks coffee grinds—because I’m so cheap that I’ll let my purse smell like coffee (which actually isn’t so bad) for months (well, ok, that’s bad) just so I an be ready to use it for a free tall drink when I make the opportunity to do so.

I even had all of this (and more, if you can believe it) in my purse when I flew to California for vacation. I even went to Starbucks—and the only reason why it didn’t get used was this: I was so frustrated with my gigantor purse that I even brought a SECOND purse to take what I absolutely needed from my big purse to use in a smaller, more manageable one.

I think that officially makes a bag lady. Gross.

I’m going to stop just short of suggesting that purses are really part of a larger conspiracy and that they are, in fact, covert torture tools designed by men to slow women down (ladies, don’t tell me you’ve never had a man suggest you hold a sandwich for him in your bag! Or is that just my experience?). I mean, really. It’s “socially unacceptable” for men to have purses, and therefore out of sheer “practicality” they carry less than we do...??

And God forbid you should actually try to find something in the cramped-yet-somehow-seemingly-ever-expanding-abyss that is your purse. It’s bad when you get to the checkout of a grocery store and have to take out all manner of random objects just to find your wallet, which is, after all, bright bleeping pink.

I think my grandmother was onto something when she declined carrying one around in her later years, calling it a “balastas,” or ballast in Lithuanian (you know, those bags of sand that keep hot air balloons on the ground? Similar concept here). And every time I start noticing myself becoming a packed mule, walking around like Quasimodo, I start wondering how I got here. And so I try to de-junk my purse and opt for a small one—again.

Can you see the vicious cycle here?

I really should give up purses for Lent one year. Or maybe just try to be less prepared for random events that could hypothetically happen… or not happen. Also probably say “no” when cashiers ask me if I want a receipt. Also probably just use that free Starbucks tall coffee already. Maybe even give in to the fact that unless I plan a time to go shopping, it’s prooobably not going to happen.

Warning: Emo Post Ahead

I'm sorry I haven't posted anything in about two weeks now. I took a week-long vacation in Calfornia to visit with family and look at law schools, and had an amazing time. I even managed to take some time to make a bunch of drawings for what was going to be a pretty funny story (at least I thought, anyway). Unfortunately, sometimes Life likes to throw a huge, ugly wrench in your plans, and you find yourself caught up in the more dramatic and saddening aspects of life.. So I never quite got around to finishing that post.

I won't go into details, but I basically have had the worst week of my life. I know that sounds dramatic. And I feel somewhat guilty saying that, considering how much heartache is going in on in other parts of the world right now, like Libya and Japan. But it seems like as soon as the Ball of Disaster and Drama got rolling, each day I lost something new. And it sucks. And I've had a hard time sleeping as a result. And I definitely don't feel like being funny. I'm sorry. Hopefully I'll get back to it soon.

Seeing that this is a drawing blog, I tried to express myself in pictures. So here's a metaphor for how my week was:

Whenever I'm going through a difficult time, I try to look around me for meaning, as well as something to learn. As always, going to Sunday Mass helps. The perfection of how the homily fits in my life pretty consistently reaffirms my faith. I know not all of you are Catholic, and I'm not trying to evangelize. I'm just saying what works for me.

I'm also probably going to be listening to Jack's Mannequin and John Mayer on repeat, as I have this past week. Especially John Mayer's Heart of Life:

I hate to see you cry
Lying there in that position
There's things you need to hear
So turn off your tears
And listen

[Chorus]
Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it won't all go the way it should
But I know the heart of life is good.

You know it's nothing new
Bad news never had good timing.
But then the circle of your friends
Will defend the silver lining.

[Chorus]

I know it's good.

That and I plan to get a daily dose of Jonathan Adler. He's so fabulous, and makes me so happy. And his interior designs are amazing. And then he goes and writes things like this about Love and Hate on his blog: http://www.jonathanadler.com/blog/?p=296 

True, so true, Mr. Adler. He also makes me want to redecorate my entire living space with bright yellow--something I never would have considered six months ago, before Sister introduced me to his fabulosity. If I had an expendable income (not to mention a place of my own), I would totally be doing that in a heartbeat.

Ok, enough emo-ness. I'm going to give myself a few more days to wallow, and after that I'm going to try to reintroduce some Happy back into my life. Hopefully Funny will follow.