Coming clean and the King

So, I made an impossible declaration a week and a half ago. This time there was no ultimate victory. This was the phase in which I failed so I hid in a hole for a week. Now I have to come out and fess up. Gah!

I was not the first to use it, nor will I be the last. It just fits so well. Anyways, I've promised 5 blogs to J. Three of which have been specified. They were supposed to have been done by last weekend. But, though I am a procrastinator, I am not one for giving up completely. Consider this my come back before the next impossible declaration either boosts my ego or crumples me for a week and a half. Anyways, I am supposed to write a blog on why Elvis is the King, listing all those things that made/make him awesome. This should be interesting since I did not grow up listening to Elvis and have never seen any of his films (something I'm sure will be remedied within the next few months). You could say I'm a Beatles girl since the argument is you have to be primarily an Elvis person or a Beatles person (Pulp Fiction fans make me proud). I most definitely grew up listening to the Beatles and watching their films. However, I never understood comparing the two or creating one better than the other. They seem so completely different in their origins, approach and style that it confuses me when I hear people arguing which is responsible for rock and roll being so rockin' and rollin'. At this point I declare platypus and say that I am a Doors girl. There we've gotten that out of the way. Now for my task.

Since I've yet to be educated on the man I've decided to look up random facts and see how they make me feel about him as a person and not just a rock legend. Let's see, Elvis is awesome for the following reasons (and so many more):

• Elvis's entourage was known as the Memphis Mafia. And they all wore rings that said TCB (Take Care of Business). That alone makes me wish there was a Godfather-esque film involving Elvis. Could you imagine? And let me stop you if you think I'm making fun or being sarcastic. I am dead serious. That would have been an amazing feat if done just right.
• Elvis was blond until his late teens. I get that. I'm naturally blond. Black hair looks damn good and who here can't admit he'd made himself to be an amazing image.
• When Elvis discovered his wife had been having an affair with a close friend he was enraged but when his bodyguard offered to set out a contract to kill the man, Elvis let him go. I'm telling you, Godfather. 
• The day before he died he tried to get a print of Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope to show to his daughter. That really does hit me right in the heart. I'm a geek so I love Star Wars sure. But the man obviously wanted to do something for his daughter and you can't say that about many musicians who make it big.
• "On 30 July 1954, Elvis played one of his first shows, at the Overton Park Shell in Memphis. He was, apparently, so nervous, that his legs started to shake. The outlandish flares the singer had chosen to wear that evening only exacerbated the shaky movement. The girls in the audience went wild, and Elvis decided to incorporate his shaky-legs routine into future shows." I have to say this is my favorite piece of trivia so far. I love that he transformed a nervous movement into his trademark moves.

• "Led Zeppelin were big fans of Elvis and were desperate to meet him when they toured the US. In 1973, the longed-for meeting came to pass, when Robert Plant and John Paul Jones met the King in Los Angeles. The Zeppelins were rendered speechless by the meeting, but Elvis broke the ice by swapping his $5,000 gold and diamond watch for Jones’s watch – which featured a picture of Mickey Mouse. From that moment on, any member of Led Zeppelin was welcome in the front row of an Elvis concert." There are no words for how amazed I am right now. All that would really come out would be an unintelligible stutter of "Led Zeppelin...Robert Plant...JPJ...speechless...Mickey Mouse watch!"
• His favorite toothpaste was Colgate (I could write an entire blog and how I always have a conversation with myself in my head when I use Colgate about how much more I like it than Crest or any others and how I want to tell people when I borrow theirs and it's not Colgate but I must be polite and not a worthless toothpaste snob). And his favorite soft drink was Pepsi. Take that Coca-Cola! (Though I enjoy some of your products, let's face the truth, Pepsi just tastes better and doesn't leave a funny aftertaste). 
• "Elvis wore a cross, the Hebrew letter chai, and a star of David around his neck. 'I don’t want to miss out on heaven due to a technicality,' he said." I couldn't help but crack a smile
• Elvis knew Cassandra Peterson as a showgirl before she became Elvira. He took an interest in her (not a sexual escapade) and told her to focus on her singing because he was impressed by her voice. Damn it Elvira, why didn't you listen to the King?!
• He sued to work as an usher in a movie theater. I actually think that is an interesting job since I love movies, and I love that he was later in the movies.
• The FBI supposedly has 600 or so odd files on Elvis. Again, Godfather.
• Seriously though, I've heard that he pretty much started from nothing and made himself into something, which is the American Dream. I also heard that he spent a good deal of that money on all of his friends and family. Somehow that sets Elvis up in my mind as a Charles Foster Kane figure. Just makes me feel like he just wanted to share all that he had because he really just wanted friendship and love. But I'm pretty ignorant on the matter so...

I challenge J to tell me some real facts (since he's pretty much an expert) and then tell me what makes him an Elvis man.

Oh yeah, and I got my alleged "facts" from here, here and here.

I now have 2 "official" followers

By "official" I mean the ones who hit that little follow button and have either an account or filled in their name. To anyone else who reads this blog, you most definitely still count. However, unless you tell me in some way that you are reading it, I do not know that you are following me. This does not sadden me. In fact, if you think about it you must be a blog ninja, always present but never in sight. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt since the alternative would be stalker or possibly the head of an evil government agency waiting to take me to a secret lab and military base once I have completed the transformation to werewolf. I think I speak for myself when I say that would just be an awkward assumption. *ahem* Anyways, thank you to my two loyal followers and all those blog ninjas out there. You give me hope.

Background belongs to Allie Brosh of Hyperbole and a Half. Blog Ninja was drawn by me. I know, shockingly life-like.

PS- If there is a blog to follow, it is most definitely Hyperbole and a Half. Blog ninjas, if you are tired of hiding in dark corners with your ninja laptops and want to finally follow someone, I'm not even going to waste your time with mine. Go straight to her blog and read it from the beginning and go ahead and click the follow button. It will be well worth being un-ninja-like.

PPS - Meet Jake. My second follower with his own blog (promising blogger). Natalie is still the first. Kristen and Nicole are nonconformist followers. I appreciate you all.

Platypus, Platypi, Platipodes

There were no guidelines to the 5 posts rules. Also, platypi are always relevant. Whenever I'm in doubt or in a seemingly trapped awkward situation, I simply say platypus in a calm and reasonably firm voice then walk away. This leaves the party that trapped you momentarily incapacitated. It works 99% of the time almost every time, maybe. And how can you not take a moment to reflect on the amazing creature. Some interesting facts*:

*

• The Platypus is an egg-laying mammal with a duck bill, beaver tail and otter-footed form. 
• It is literally one of a kind (only member of its family/genus) 
• It is a venomous mammal.
• It is semi-aquatic and native to Australia...WAIT WHAT?!
• There is a spur on the hind foot of the male platypus delivers a poison capable of bringing severe pain to humans.

  • Platypodes are BAMFs 

**

*Original photo and facts acquired from itsnature.org
**Second photo from The Poison in the Platypus
P.S. - Platipodes is supposedly the more accurate Greek plural for platypus but playpi sounds better to me. More playful and less pod-like.

I win!

Waking up, this is not a metaphor, this is my morning life

This is # 4. Only one more to go Nat!

Does anybody else pay attention to how creepy ice cream trucks are in real life?

The ones from the films and the ones I've seen in real life couldn't be more different:

• The ones from films:

• Clean cut and always smiling
• Professional
• Plays same song like pop goes the weasel or the entertainer
• In an immaculate white truck or ice cream cone truck

Could be made creepy but all things considered very nice and clean. Picture acquired from here.

• The ones from real life:

• Scruffy and dirty
• Menacing and rude
• Plays the Lullaby or La Cucaracha
• Seriously, like they didn't seem enough like pedophiles already.
• A seedy yellow or green van with creepy children crossing signs on it and pictures of prepackaged ice cream to lure children in.

See what I mean? Picture acquired from here.

Anyone else? Anybody? Discuss.

That's 3 Natalie. I love when shit rhymes.

Do you ever have to suppress your creepy urges?

If you've ever worked in customer service (meaning you interact with customers) you may have noticed that people are somehow naturally inclined to be creepy. This includes yourself, behind the counter. Okay, so maybe this is only true of me but please just humor me. At one of my first jobs I noticed on the driver's license of a customer that they lived on the exact same street I did. At the age of 24 I have managed to suppress my instinct to do what me at 19 did: "Oh, hey, we live on the same street. What a small world." FREEZE. Okay, so I know that if a sleep deprived and possibly neurotic looking employee at a video rental place told me this I would possibly try to laugh it awkwardly off and then spend the rest of the night (possibly the week) evading any cars following me for longer than 2 minutes and having my keys and whatever else I could manage at the ready to fight off the homicidal stalker I have most likely encountered. But then I'm paranoid. Geesh, it's a good thing I don't do any drugs or smoke. Could you imagine what that would do to a person with my frame of mind? Anyway, right, back on subject. UNFREEZE. The customer just nods and smiles and then her son, maybe 16 years of age, the silent and brooding type, responds, "Yeah, you live at *insert exact house address* right? You went to *exact high school* and you usually wear *exact type of clothes* and sometimes you wear your hair *exactly how I had started styling my hair on my days off*" I stood there smiling brightly and painfully as I finished the transaction trying to remember if I had ever seen either of these people at any point on my street and coming up with no recollections. In an eighties teen film I think this would be endearing but I'm no Molly Ringwald and I have enough worries of my own what with werewolves, zombies and demons possibly running amok. They had managed to take a potentially creepy (similar but not to be confused with potentially awkward situations) situation and bring it up a notch.

Creepy-meter

I will most likely be posting little things that are creepy but aren't necessarily meant to be. For example, a friend of mine once told a coworker that he was so adorable that she wanted to keep him under her bed and feed him spaghetti. He loved it. And apprently she wasn't coming on to him but I think it makes a very handy pick up line. Lol. On a side note, I love my friends. A few of them are just about as awkward, geeky, and potentially creepy as me. Anyways, these situations are potentially creepy unless the person doesn't go along with them and is threatened then it is just plain creepy. Remember the line.

This is post #2 Natalie. Dun dun DUN!

Helium filled expectations

So I made a promise to my friends Nat, Kristen and Nicole that I would start posting again before the weekend was done. Of course, I felt so moved that they actually read this damn thing that I took it too far and declared I would put up 5 posts to make up for over a month of being really really busy. Of course it was Natalie who seemed to have issued the challenge to my overzealous ego by saying she's missed my posts and she's tortured some poor souls by referring them to this blog to read said posts, of which I have not been posting for over a month. I suppose I issued the challenge to myself and then managed to one up myself immediately by announcing that I would make it 5 posts instead of one. This is one of the many things that is wrong with the way I think. Let me elaborate:

Dramatic reenactment.

I am somehow inspired to do something that I would love to accomplish but most likely do not have the time, talent nor energy to successfully carry out. There are witnesses, most likely people I greatly admire, seeing as how they probably were the ones who inspired me in the first place by complimenting me or issuing a good natured challenge or both. I then declare/accept said challenge and take it one step further. Why do I do this? I don't really know. I'm not entirely aware of my actions until the witnesses are gone and my stupid smug smile becomes a distracted worried frown. What have I done?

Personally, I blame television. Books too. I always think of those moments in mystery, adventure or western films/books when the protagonist is issued a challenge by the snarky antagonist, ignorant townspeople or no good rotten scoundrel, and everyone gets really quiet and you can just feel the tension in the room, crowd or dance hall. Then the hero pushes out his/her chest and accepts the challenge adding something to make it seem even more impossible that has everyone gasping, cheering and looking admirably upon him/her. The difference between me and the hero*? The hero gets it done, often with finesse, even if it's to the last second of the prearranged deadline. I just hide behind "I work two jobs now and I'm just so f*cking exhausted all the time." Then I hang my head in shame until the next challenge snaps it back up a little too high above my shoulders.

I can't help it. It's like I need to achieve greatness through some impossible declaration. Though can you imagine if I achieved the impossible all the time and then failed at something minor. Somehow I'm comforted by how much more of a disappointment I might have been had I been successful. This is how my brain has managed to help me survive an ongoing series of awkward and foolish incidents also known as my life.

An endless cycle.

By the by Natalie, this is post # 1. 4 more to go. I can only hope my success does not lead to a downward spiral of disappointment from achieving a miniature version of my dream (carrying out an impossible declaration) and (as a result) being so damn awesome. Let us hope that my victory is sweeter than the cinnamon apple crepes I made my declaration over when we discussed this at IHOP. What better place than the International House of Pancakes to hear gasps and cheering?

P.S. - Kristen and Nicole, it would really help me out next time if you could gasp and cheer the next time I make another such impossible assertion on top of a challenge. Of course, it might also crush my spirit if I were to fail at it later knowing that the gasps and applause were all for naught. Damn it. Just stop me from one upping the next challenge. Please. Help. Me....!

*You may have noticed that I use hero for both males and females. The word heroine always confused me as a child. I think it disturbed me that is sounded too much like something that involves scary needles rather than an awesome/badass woman. Also, heroine reminds me too much of the type of "hero" that still needs a man to save her and somehow still manages to faint. I don't include you Nancy Drew, you just get knocked out alot, it's amazing you've survived with minimal damage.