A cynic’s optimism

It was subzero all day today, what with the massive cold front in the heartland, and private and primary schools were all closed. Can’t have those little kiddies getting frostbite while waiting for the bus, now can we?

The world does indeed go on though, and from that we can correctly conclude that, yes, I had to drag my freezing self to work today. Another pre-dawn commute, cold, windy, and snowy. Begin, the funniest-bad-day ever.

Perhaps it was too cold overnight? Regardless of what caused it, all of a sudden this morning when I turn on the car the little yellow fuel light blinks on. “Odd,”, I think to myself, “It was at a quarter tank when I got home yesterday.” Ah well, suck it up and get gas on the way to work I guess? Bah, this sucks.

For those of you who have never had to get gas at 5:30 in the morning (I’ve never even thought of it), gas stations are usually closed. Their lights are off, the stores are dark, and it all seems frightfully post-apocalyptic. Fortunately I was too drowsy to notice the impending doom and quickly learned that the pumps still work. Cue silent “CHYEA!”

So here I am, half awake, eyes icing over from the cold, thick gloves on over frozen fingers trying to rummage through my wallet as I walk outside and trying my hardest not to fall. It’s a slow and painful process. I admit, it’s getting a little frustrating.

Get card? Success, after dropping it once.

Push buttons on screen? Success, after a couple tries.

Don’t fall on ass as I walk on black ice? Mild success, continue slipping.

Open fuel tank door? … Open fuel tank door?

What what? Puzzled, I press the latch in the car one more time and walk back to the fuel door, only to realize that the entire thing has been sealed shut with ice.

Now. This. Is. Just. Agitating.

With a huff I pull out my debit card and start digging into the sides of the door so that I can chip away at the ice. It’s dark and freezing outside, I’m all alone in an empty shopping center, eyes half open, slipping with every breath, and now I’m hunched over the back of a car in a poofy jacket with cumbersome gloves on, sawing away at the car with a flimsy piece of plastic as I grumble aloud to myself.

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing, right then and there. The mental image was too much for my sleep deprived mind to handle and I just stood there, card in hand, head thrown back; laughing. (Guffawed is more like it, but let’s be dignified here)

Optimism usually isn’t my thing, so behold my surprise when I realize throughout the day that whenever work got a little too mind numbing, or sleep sounded too enticing, thinking back to my awkward self in the empty gas station was sufficient to bring back snickers strong enough to push back any overly negative thoughts. My usually cynical, critical self was laughing/smiling all day because of something so ridiculously stupid.

Making fun of yourself is the best way to live, hands down. There are too many important things in the world for you to take yourself seriously.

 

Turn me on

No, stop, please don’t try, you’re going to fail. That was just a catchy title to get the flow of writing going. Silly little blog reader, you.

Being not that much a fan of physical attraction (it just doesn’t happen for me, what can I say, ^^;;) I’ve found that my minimal attention towards men focuses very strongly on two things: their intelligence, and their wit. Sure, situational humor and all-out slapstick comedy and off-color jokes can be funny, but the winning point goes to someone who can make me laugh and think at the same time, or if they found humor in something that most people wouldn’t have connected together.

I won’t lie; I have a shallow side. If the guy is two feet shorter than me or has a third arm and doesn’t practice personal hygiene, I will strongly reconsider speaking to him. But if he can cleverly explain Aboriginal history to me and make a witty remark about the political situation of Russia, I may overlook it all. Well, maybe except the hygiene thing. Please make a note of this: Showers are not an option.

But all in all, what can I say, I absolutely love the idea of platonic relationships (the non-sexual, loving the person, part). Talking to someone about philosophy and the historically created political situation, or even having them explain different types of game and what kind of guns you use to hunt them (hey, not all intelligence is book sourced), sounds like an amazing way to spend the night. I guess what you can conclude from this is that learning is my aphrodisiac? Golly that sounds odd. (Especially if you know my U.G.P.A…. O.M.G.)

However not far from the truth. For me, a brilliant mind combined with a sharp sense of humor will overshadow almost every other personality characteristic a man can bring to the table. If it can be scathing, even better. Nothing’s better than a joke except a joke that burns.

What can I say, if Gregory House or Jon Stewart or Dalton Russell from the Inside Man or RDJ’s Sherlock Holmes were within 10 years of my age (or, in most cases, an actual person)… Hm. Yeah, I’d tap that.

Hawt

 

 

 

Civility is cool

Being a single woman and a part of generation Y the statistical probability of my political leanings being slightly skewed to the left are significantly higher than the chances of getting struck by lightning. But today wasn’t about politics. It was a day where we could make fun of ourselves as a country as well as appreciate it. Where we can turn to our political opponents and have reasonable conversations. A day when all of us in the middle could drown out the shouting of the extremes with the jolly cheer of the majority. I will not be the first or last blogger to talk about the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear, but dammit all I will commemorate it just the same.

Fortunately, being unemployed means that I have plenty of time to drive/fly out to Washington D.C. and get my kicks in. Unfortunately, being unemployed means I have no disposable income with which to drive/fly out to Washington D.C. to get my kicks in. So of course I sat down in my favorite swivel chair with a bowl of dry cereal and watched it being streamed live on my favorite internet. I’m so very glad I did.

Turnout looked amazing. The entire area was filled, and what several sources cited as 250,000 people showed up for the actual event, and public viewings popped up around the nation with hundreds tuning in from the comfort of their own cities. The acts were entertaining (Colbert’s entrance says it all), the crowd was positive and civil, and the underlying message against mainstream media and the us vs. them mentality continued throughout the 3 grand hours.

This rally was meant primarily for humor, and for humor’s sake it will be remembered. We, the people of today, prefer to make fun of things and laugh, rather than point angry fingers and shout. Laughter is the cure-all for life’s woes and tribulations, and the madness of our world today counts as a tribulatory woe.

I am in no way under the assumption that this will actually change anything. There will be no uprising movement of a “satire” party, Jon Stewart will not run for president, and the moderate middle will not silence the outliers.

We are, however, uplifted. Because of the amount of people that showed up today and didn’t break into fights, because of the messages that were sent and the laughter that followed, we in the middle know that we are not alone. The people of this nation have not completely fallen into the shit hole of the world, and all hope is not lost for the reasonable and civil. If anything is to come from this event today, it is the understanding that what we see ourselves as a nation is only, in the words of Stewart, a “fun house mirror” reflection with “pumpkin shaped asses”. And for this I am glad, because in all honesty fun house mirrors scare the hell out of me.