Rob Dyrdek

most people tell me that they could never have stories like mine. that my life is so fantastical filled with crazy, zany people and adventures. i'd like to remind them that we live in the same world...and that my stories mostly surround 4 staple elements: binge eating, boys, jobs(or joblessness) or embarrassment. the thing is, i tell the stories because i'm not embarrassed...and you shouldn't be either.

i love to tell these weird stories, but the truth is the best thing i ever did for myself was tell the story of who i am. not every knows it, nor will everyone...some people will just get bits and pieces. others, will get the version where my eyes well up and voice cracks a bit. as a life long  clown, telling a story that was anything but embarrassing was the most embarrassing thing i could do. no jokes or weird people to elaborate. just my little life and the lessons i've learned.

i think sometimes we get so wrapped up in creating an unbelievable life story, that we miss the things that make it just so. this has always been my problem. relentlessly wondering if things could be better, if something could make me happier, if i could make my life more exciting by doing it differently. trying desperately to create this cool story that people will think is unique or interesting. relentless wondering is ok for men who live alone in the woods, but not for anyone else.

over and over in my life the lesson has been the same. it is not so much what i am doing, but who i am when i am doing it. when i am content to be in the moment,content in who i am: that is when the little life moments come. that's when i can see the funny and strange and ridiculousness that is ever-present--if you don't believe me, turn to MTV2...ridiculousness is always on!

log chute me in the face

 i am writing this now because if i don't i am afraid the memory will fade.

this memory was the most frightening and most exhilarating moment of my entire life.

i rode the log chute at the mall of america. with adam basse.

i was really looking forward to the log chute. it's fun without being overly scary. the novelty paul bunyon and babe the blue ox figurines throughout the caves is always a fun sight. all around, a fabulous time.

the last time i was on a log chute, i was about 10 years old. this time, me and 3 other adults shoved our robust bodies into this tiny little fiberglass log. as someone who is afraid of boys and physical touch, my senses were on high  having to basically sit on poor adams lap. i told myself "you can do this" right before a gentle old woman operating the ride asked "they warned you, right?". boy, did they not.

i knew i should have jumped out when we started our ascent. i'm can't be certain, but i'm pretty sure me and adam  are legally married now in some middle eastern countries. every ounce of my body was jiggling violently as i tried with all my strength to keep my body weight off my log-partner. his laughter paired with my extreme embarrassment and weakness forced me to give up and i gave up in defeat as i released myself to body slam adam. my laughter almost muffled his grunts of agony as my weight slowly crushed his vital organs as we traveled upwards for what seemed to be hours.

sweet relief approached as we hit the drop...the releif didn't last long before the tidal wave hit. a 2 foot swell covered my entire body from head to toe. somehow, the water hit only me. could someone please explain how the other three passengers remained almost completely dry while i looked like i just took a tubby?

i didn't know if i should laugh or cry. my sweater vest instantly became heavier as did my body as it began to say goodbye to most of its fine motor ability. when it became obvious that there was another ascent above, my body chose laughter in stead of fear and i think adam peed his pants a little. our little faces were side by side as we silently laughed harder than i have in a long time.

i can't remember how much water got me at the end, but i do remember how  i left a  conspicuous puddle on the seat of the next ride and how my pants basically froze to my legs as we wandered around the parking lot looking for our car. total misery. total bliss. i hope this memory never goes away...but if it does, somewhere on the camp snoopy mainframe, there is a picture of 3 happy campers and one wet rat riding the log chute.

pinz

i have an idea.

i'm going to trick silly girls on pinterest who click on the "5 ways to make your marriage work" or "25 things all married couples should do" lists and exhange them with a mean-face emoticon that says "STOP PINNING AND PIN YOUR HUSBAND DOWN".

lol.

christmas is coming. the goose is getting fat. please put a penny in the old mans hat. because i am getting fat too, and will use your pennies to buy myself another sports bra so i can work out in comfort.

i pinned a couple that looked cute and functional.

06angeline

I don't know what possessed me to make an online dating profile for someone named "angeline". What is more, I don't know why I chose "our time"--a site for seniors, to be my platform of trickery. 

I'm not trying to trick people at all...I just wanted to look at the kind of people who signed up for this. I was crying looking at some of the older men's profiles. The longing for love seems to never go away. 

Here is what I've gathered from my time at our time:

choose a honest, yet flattering photo of yourself. angeline is not interested in headshots, or extreme editing

if you have "a few extra pounds" make sure to choose "i have a few extra pounds" in your bio. this is especially important if your photo shows the truth. i don't wanna date no liars!

while we're on the topic of photos, don't use your old wedding photo as your profile picture. cropping the bride out halfway only makes it half as worse.

if you're on "our time", a site aimed to bring senior citizens together, do not say your ideal woman is younger--25-30. unless you're hoping for there to be other weird young adults like me scopin' you out...that's just plain rude. 

while we're on the topic of frauds and liars, i guess i should go to bed. 

others, they twitter like birds

the best thing in life is laying in bed, laughing about things that happened during the day. things people said, or interactions. or christmas karaoke cds you make with your friend.

i've always wanted to make a christmas album. i wanted something festive and cheery, but also a little funny. i liked the idea of a midi file. i liked the idea of midwestern accents. i like peas and carrots.

my bff and i have a "routine" we like to do when we're feeling silly. we have these horrible overweight midwestern personas called trace and shirl. we like to talk about our failing diets, our husbands sex drives and celebrity gossip.

we put our characters to use with some 69 cent itunes downloads. i have never laughed harder in my life about something that wasn't that funny. those unfunny funnies, are usually the funniest.

we'll replay the songs, over and over...laughing hysterically, breathlessly and almost peeing our pants about the tiniest detail. honest to goodness hysterics...over a karaoke song?

these are the highlights of my life. complete joy about a little detail. shoving cheetos in my mouth, or the way an arby's sign looks late at night or a PT cruiser. prank calling family in an indian accent or making fun of pj salvage pajamas or choreographing dance routines to amy grant. the things that make me laugh like a maniac, breathe life into my often anxious and seasonally depressed self.


when people ask what i want in a spouse, maniac laughing is at the top of my list (i've actually been joking about the money and health insurance thing!). i don't know a lot about marriage, but it seems to me people who can roll around on the ground with their heads throbbing from laughing could probably figure out how to navigate through the hard parts, too. I have seen my parents laugh like that once or twice, and it was like seeing a glorious angel descend to earth.

that weird floating uncle albert from mary poppins got it right. i love to laugh...and it really is getting worse every year.

championship round

being frugal vs being disgusting: you be the judge.

i bought a sweater and have worn it everyday since. i bought it the day after thanksgiving.

i shower sparingly. last visit, 4 days ago. last interaction with a razor? can't recall. (warmth > smoothness. time spent standing still under hot water > time spent awkwardly hunched over shaving legs)

i make large quantities of food to last me weeks. my favorite dish is cans of beans and corn mixed with rice. every. day. if you put a random spice in it, it seems like a different meal.

i reuse my dishes. oatmeal in a mug for breakfast? one quick rinse and it becomes my bowl for rice and beans. coffee break? just scrape the residue off with my spoon and pour da java in. less time washing = more time eating.

home remedies & concoctions trump store bought alternatives. my sister discovered my kombucha brewing den in our bathroom closet and was permanently scarred by the "mother" mushroom. i once sanitized a toe nail clipper and snipped off an enlarged taste bud (i do not recommend doing that. bled for hours).

some of these habits i will continue on throughout my life, no doubt, but i promise if i ever have to share a bed with someone i will consider eliminating some. maybe the dishes one. we'll see.


ps: i know getting rid of a taste bud with a toenail clipper is really disgusting. i am ashamed. but i also think it was very inventive. my embarrassment outweighs my pride though. i'm sorry if i grossed you out.

sob story of my life is a bowl of cherries.

as of recent, my car has been having extreme issues. violent shaking, rattling, etc. usually i can figure out a fix to get me through. i brought my car to a shop and they told me what was wrong and said it wasn't imminent...but that eventually something would have to happen. eventually? i'll take my chances. 

well today i discovered i have a leak in my transmission. i didn't figure that out until after i attempted to drive my car faster than 30mph. hazards flashing, white knuckles gripping my wheel,  i somehow made it to my destination. there i stood in the snow in my skirt and spilled transmission fluid all over my red hands because my makeshift paper funnel wasn't properly constructed. 

there i was, feeling bad for myself, cold and pouty and covered in pink fluid. i was getting pissed at the droves of businessmen just walking by. why aren't they helping me? they should help me!  if i had a bf i could just call him and he could come help me! if had money in the bank i could get a nicer car! poor me! this is unfair!

the trans fluid did the trick and i was able to bring my baby to a steady 50. that was until some semi blasted its brown snow my way. when i tried to wipe it away, my wipers stuck and suddenly i couldn't see anything. i "calmly" pulled to the side...which turned more into a slipped down the side as it was covered in ice. i said a few naughty words and started to tear up as i violently got out of my car on the busy highway to wipe my wipers. 

cars were passing like bullets. lexus, bmw, fancy things, left and right. not even bothering to move over to the center lane. just like i do whenever i see that unlucky driver. 

just as i got the situation under control, and unlikely hero, a rough looking man in a beat up junker had stopped to see if i needed help. 

to say the least, i was taken off guard. my natural prejudice normally tells me to steer clear of men like this. he was obviously poor. his car was barely running. but there he was, helping a stranger in need, despite his obvious need. i was just able to say give him my thanks before i broke down into a pathetic happy/sad sob on the side of the road. i was so embarrassed of my attitude and i was so thankful for a kind person. 

what a perfect reminder this day has been to me. i have been privileged my whole life. i've been safeguarded from harm and need. i have a deep feeling of entitlement to these simple things. to a running car. to heat in my house. to food in my stomach. i say i am thankful, but what i'm really saying is "i expect nothing less."so often, i can't give because "i don't have enough to give". i can't help because first i need to help my self. before i can be aware of others needs, i need more. 

well, it has been a season of "less" for me. of course, i have much more than many, but for me, it has been a running lesson on thanksgiving and awareness of excess. wondering how i will pay a bill, or pay for gas has become part of my life--it won't be forever, but it's lessons i hope will last a life time. i am seeing "poor" people in a new light. i am understanding something i could only look at with pity before. i'm still entitled and selfish, but i am learning. 

today i am thinking of all the people who don't have a community of support like me. people who don't have friends and family to call when they can't get their car to start. people who don't have a flexible job that will let them be late. today i am thankful for people who care. who are looking out for others, despite the fact their own situation isn't perfect. i'm thankful for that rusty buick that reminded me that i don't have to have it all together to be able to care for others...and to always carry a funnel.