Voicemail

I'm very thankful that I can get messages when I'm not around to answer my phone.

Yet, for some reason, that little "New Voicemail" icon on my cell phone really irks me.

Mine's a little, green, faceless guy who shows up in the bottom corner and won't leave.

He always overstays his welcome.

I just can't stand having that icon there. CAN'T STAND IT!

So I check it.

And then I have to put in my pass code.

Because someone might hack into my voicemail and steal important information like...my phone messages.

GASP!

So I put in my passcode and all that, and I get to the main menu. And I have two new messages (I'm very popular. Either that, or I lost my phone for about a week).

And to get to the two new messages, I have to press 1.

And it finally plays the first message.

But I don't want to hear that one (it's from my arch-frenemy).

So I want to skip that one and go to the next. But my voicemail won't let me!

It's non-discriminatory. It thinks all voicemail messages are just as important as others. But they're not.

So I have to listen to all that just to get to one I actually want to hear.

And now I'm exhausted and probably have ear cancer from being on the phone so long.

And don't even get me started on saved messages.

I have four saved messages, and I really need to hear this specific one. But, no skipping!

So I have to listen to eight minutes of voicemail messages just to get to the one I need to hear, and by then, I've forgotten why I needed to hear it in the first place.

Good intentions, voicemail, but you're flawed.

Seriously flawed.

Dramatic Singers

You know who you are, Christina Aguilera.

When people sing like they're trying to fly, it really gets to me.

They're holding the mic in their left hand, and their right hand is shaking and lifting up and down, up and down like a crazy fast arm-elevator.

Just stop.

Let your lyrics convey emotion. Not your hand.

Or your eyebrows.

Why must people raise and furrow their eyebrows while they sing? They look ridiculous, because the mic covers their nose and mouth, and all you see are eyes and happy-sad-happy-sad eyebrows peeking over the mic.

I'm talking to you, everyone on The Sing Off.

Just sing the song. Dance if you must. But please don't try to look emotional while doing it.

It looks forced on your face.

If you want to be a dramatic singer, please go to Broadway.

Then I'll only have a problem if you're not being dramatic.

And keep flailing that hand around, and you might just knock someone out.

Jean Skirts

I am a firm believer that unless you're between the ages of 1 and 17, you should
not wear jean skirts.

Don't get me wrong. I used to wear them.

In high school, I had this one that was dark denim with stars on it that I wore with half-tights and Converse that I thought was just the coolest thing ever. But I was in high school, so that was okay.

I see women wearing jean skirts, and they're in their twenties or thirties or sometimes even forties, and I just think they look tacky.

I can't really explain why.

Maybe it's because denim looks so very '90s unless it's in the form of jeans.

Maybe it's because sometimes they're super short and have ruffles or fringe coming out the bottom.

Or because sometimes they're floor-length or pencil style.

Or because sometimes women decide to pair them with a matching jean jacket.

But I think the main reason I hate jean skirts is because they're made for high school girls and toddlers. It all comes back around to that.

They aren't fashionable at all, they're very, very hot, and they don't move very well.

And to tell you the truth, they look a little bit trashy. No one ever looked classy in a jean skirt.






Now that's classy.

Bowling

Maybe I'm just too bowled out, if that's a thing.

In high school, there was nothing to do in my town besides bowl and watch movies. So those were the two things we did. I never got sick of movies, but I definitely got sick of bowling.

The thing is, I like going bowling. I like the idea of it. I like the neon shoes and the hot pink bowling balls.

But I hate actually bowling.

I used to have fun. Then I was good for about one and a half games. Then just one. Now, none. I just don't bowl. I don't enjoy it, and it took me a while to realize this.

If you say you hate bowling, people kind of look at you like you have purple hair or propellers coming out of your head.

Which is to say, they look at you like you're very weird.

But I just hate it. Lucky for me, my boyfriend hates it, too, so we've taken to playing arcade games at the bowling alley instead. Which is great, because Skee-Ball is my favorite thing ever.

But, back to bowling. First of all, I'm so, so weak, so I use an 8 pound ball.

I'm pretty sure these were designed for little kids.

Little girls.

Below the age of, like, five. But that's what I use.

And then the very next day, my arm is killing me. That's how weak I am.

And I suck at bowling. Which isn't why I hate it. There are plenty of other reasons for that.

I'm only good if I can use bumpers. Or one of those aim-helper things. But what's even better is using both.

I never break 100. Heck, I never break 50. But I once knew someone (my sister) who got a score of 8. So I guess I'm better than that.

But, the real reason I hate bowling is that it's boring. Seriously. Just plain boring.

I don't consider it a sport and I certainly can't believe people watch it on TV. The only time it's exciting for me is when I get a really bad gutter ball or throw the ball into another lane or get a strike. But people who go bowling a lot get strikes all the time, so I really don't see what's so exciting about it.

So, yes, I'll go to a bowling alley. But don't expect me to bowl. I'll sit there and eat free popcorn and listen to music. Or play Skee-Ball and win prizes. Last time, my boyfriend and I won like 35 tickets and the only thing we could get was a foam airplane and a disguise. And it was still better than bowling.

Beach Balls

Alright, they're fine at the beach.

But as soon as you start bringing those bouncy, inflatable spheres into concerts, it creates an entire stream of irritation.

There is nothing worse than being at a concert and standing in the front row, enjoying yourself, and then having a giant ball land on your head.

So many times, I've wanted to pop them. When they come my way, I don't throw them back. Or I do. But when I do, I just punch the beach ball to get it away from me. But then it always comes back.

I want to step right on those beach balls and pop them into a million pieces of plastic. Throwing a beach ball around at a concert is not fun.

It's not exciting.

It's annoying.

They're called beach balls for a reason. Please keep them there.

The saying, "That's Legit," or any derivation of it

"Legit" does not mean cool.

Yet, for some reason, I keep hearing it used for that. Everywhere I go.

Instead of "this band is really cool," it's, "this band is pretty legit!"

And I might just pull my hair out of my head.

"Legit" comes from the word "legitimate," which means "lawful," "genuine," "normal," or "born in wedlock."

None of these things, last time I checked, meant cool.

So I really wish people would stop using it for that.

I cannot explain how much I cringe and shudder when I hear someone say this. It honestly drives me up the moon. Which is much, much higher than being driven up a wall.

"This contest is pretty legit."

Is it? Is it really? Is it legal? Is it really, truly a contest?

Because I'm pretty sure that is not what you meant to say.

I wish people would know what they were saying before they said it. Using this word for slang is ridiculous, and I wish, oh I wish, it would stop.

And to the person who first began using "legit" to mean "cool," if I ever meet you, I will punch you in the face.

And that's a legitimate threat.

ESPN

The only time, and I mean only time ESPN is good is when it's airing the World Cup.

Yes, America, that's right. The World Cup.

Soccer.

Not basketball. Not football. Certainly not baseball.

I often work cashier at a cafeteria, and it's incredibly boring, except for the fact that we can have the TV on and watch it across the room. But every time I'm working, and really into something interesting, like Nancy Grace, some big football player of a guy gets up and turns the channel.

Each and every time, I hope he'll change it to something else. Like, maybe, Top Model reruns. But that would be really weird.

So here comes ESPN and a bunch of talking heads in sports coats sitting around a table, talking about the latest fourteen-year-old basketball prodigy.

Which is cool. Go him.

But really? This is TV?

And why is Sports Center always on? Is that the only show ESPN has?

Wait, I'll answer the question.

Yes, it is!

And if it's not, I'd be surprised.

Because every time that football player changes the channel, the sidebar comes up and people start spitting about baseball players and steroids.

The Term "Running Errands"

"What are you doing?"

That is the question.

And so often, the answer is, "Running errands."

I usually avoid this term at all costs, but I caught myself using it the other day. And it really made me think.

What is an errand?

I understand the term "running miles." I understand "running races." But "running errands?" What does that even mean?

And by the way, when you say you're "running" errands, I assume you're actually driving, not running. So the whole term is out of whack.

Mr. Webster defines an errand as: a short and quick trip to accomplish a specific purpose, as to buy something, deliver a package, or convey a message, often for someone else.

So why are we so cryptic about what we're doing? Why not just say, "I'm going to the bank" or "I have to go to the post office to mail some letters"? Why give these things such a secret term?

If a giant, car-eating dinosaur jumped out of the shrubbery and devoured your vehicle, it might be helpful for someone to know what your path of travel was.

But if you tell your loved ones you're "running errands," they may never find out. You could be anywhere, and by the time they search all over town, you're most likely going to be in that dinosaur's digestive track.

So, it may take an extra two minutes to say, "I'm going to buy milk" or "I have to cash my check." And the person that asked you might not care what exactly you're doing.

But, hey. They asked.