App-surd

People with iphones are assholes. We all know it. Whip out your iphone and see how many people swoop around to see what "apps" you have. Some of the most popular (and I am not even making this up) are iFart, Virtual Zippo, and Peanut Butter Jelly Time. They are often stupid little programs that don't actually do anything. Except make you look like a D-bag. Here are the apps I would like for my iphone. 

iShun - I am tired of having to be snide and rude to people to get them to go away.  This program would, at the touch of a button, immediately alert those that have offended or slighted me that they are officially Dead to Me. This gives them the chance to a)apologize and suck up to me, or b) awkwardly avoid making eye contact ever again.

Shitter -  Having an iPhone is about constant contact. Facebook status updates, Twitter, Loopt. This app is like Twitter, but it alerts everyone every time I use the bathroom. Now my friends can know what I am doing at all times! Privacy is soooo overrated. 

YesDear - People like to talk to me. Even when I am obviously not listening. The thing is, no one actually wants my true opinion. (summed up, in most cases, by "So the fuck what.") They want validation. This program allows me to record simple 1-2 word phrases that will randomly be generated once activated. I can play Tetris while you talk. At varying intervals the phone will respond - "uh-huh" "wow" "no?!" "fair enough" " you're right"- saving us all a lot of time and trouble.

Capullo -  We live in a global society. I have met people from all over the world. I usually do not like them. This app will provide written and audio instruction for calling anyone an asshole in any language. Upgrades will include new phrases like "What are you? Stupid?", "Learn to drive!", and "I asked for soy, you twat!"

Sub-texting Charges May Apply.

I've been receiving Christmas Cards like crazy this year. (And every year. I am very popular.) People wishing me cheer and happiness. People demanding I have a Merry this or Happy that. But I can read between the lines. I know what they really mean. I demand from now on that all cards sent to me state clearly what they actually mean. So buy some blank cards and choose the inscription that applies.

Your are not important enough to receive a gift from me.

Happy Whatever-it-is-you-people-celebrate!

I'm still alive.  No inheritance for you this year!

Things are just great with me. No, really. Can't you see how happy we look in the photo!!! We're great......

I'm not sure who you are, but your are on my card list and I don't want to take you off the list, just in case.

If this marriage thing doesn't work out, you know where to find me.

You purchased something from my business this year. Now I will send you cards that make me seem like a "friend of the family". Please buy more stuff.

Hey Kali Kali

Often my friend make offerings to me. Wether to ask favors, or to please and calm my spirit, they are always appreciated. My friend Doug recently made me an amazing pair of handmade sock blockers. His wife made me baked goods. Lynsey made me a pin cushion and some jam. Gorgeous.

Here are some other things I would like my friends to make me.

The Necronomicon

An omelet without all those disgusting eggs

One of those old wall mount accordion coffee cup holders 

The will to live

A little black dress that fits perfectly and moves effortlessly from the Boardroom to the Ballroom

Rich

A cover recording of “Je Ne Sais Pas Pourquoi” 

The crown jewels

Bohr's Atomic model

A ghostwriter

Or just send cash! I just love a handmade Christmas! Don't you? 

Are You Still Talking?

It occurs to me, especially during the holidays, that many people think I give a crap. About what, you say? Things. Varied and many. They call me. They send Christmas letters. They talk and talk. To save us all some time, trouble and paper, here is a starter list for things I don't give a crap about.

1) Your kids. No matter what Little Mollie does, I will not care. I have only met her once and she threw up on me. I do not want to know her better. The fact that she can spell her name will not bring back my favorite black cashmere cardigan. 

2) Your job. All our jobs suck. That's why they pay us. And, yes, I know, it's never enough. Shut up. If you have recently quit your job. Tread lightly. If you have quit because a)you want to pursue your real love - making fairy dolls, b) they just didn't "get" you , c) you were tired of working for "the man", back away slowly. Then run. The coffee mug I am throwing may just miss you.

3) Your man. Yes, he loves you. But I don't even like YOU. I certainly can't pretend to be interested HIS band. Oh, and I'm sure he and his wife really are separated. Sure.

4) Your philanthropy. You can work at a soup kitchen. You can give all of your Christmas gifts to kid's with cancer. No amount of charity work will make me like you. You may be generous, but you are still boring the shit out of me. Go blow a homeless guy. I'd listen to that story.

Cyndii Loo Who?

I have many friends. They are very awesome. Tonight I will spotlight one of them.

Meet Cyndii Jo.

Cyndii Jo is my friend. She is all the best parts of Dolly Parton with more class and less ridiculous tits. She is one of the most beautiful people I know. "Cyndii Jo the Wig Ho" is a great hairdresser. Cyndii Jo is a great decorator. She also has impeccable taste in clothing, but not men. I'm working on it. She is learning to do a backflip. She likes rock and roll. Talking to her is like being in Steel Magnolias and Sex in the City at the same time. 

She loves Pancho's cheese dip and Celine Dion. She is the only person I know who has admitted to eating a Baconator. I wish everyone knew how awesome she is. Especially her. 

I see your Geek and raise you a Dork.

This officially seals my fate. I am a card carrying nerd. 

Today, we went to the Magic: The Gathering World Championship Tournament. Please keep in mind, I married into this. Sure I "played" RPG's growing up. By which I mean, I dressed up like a vampire and smoked. Nerdy, but not quite to this level. Though I admit pretending to be a vampire is totally gay. Anyway, today, I invested in my geekdom. I bought a deck and paid an entry fee and played. I even stood around and watched other people play. I still have no idea what is going on. But there we were. So here it is.

I played  against this  guy. I didn't even get to play a card before

he beat me. Not one. In six turns. Geez.

                                       He looks alot like this guy.                                           ( Johnny Angel from Practical Magic.)

That's probably why I lost. Distraction. Also I do not know how to play. The matches are best two of three, so I had to play him again. I lost. But at least I got to play a few cards. He went easy on me. He was handsome and merciful. 

*swoon* ( My husband and Johnny....nerds are hot.)

I then watched my husband handily win his tournament match. That's right, ladies. My man has won a match during official MTG Tournament play. Stay back!! He's ALL mine. 

Not a total loss. We did meet people from all over. Luke (Geeky McDreamy) drove in from Indianapolis. A kid from Australia helped me build my deck. We sat next to some guys from China and behind the Germans. I watched Team USA beat Japan. 

This is Team USA kickin' ass and not getting dames.

Speaking of which.....

                               

                                     Can you find the girl in this pic of the crowd?

Trick question! There are no girls. I'm sure they are all at home waiting for their men to return from battle. "Slay the Shivan Dragon!!! Bring home the six booster decks, oh Mighty Provider!"

All in all, we had fun. We got free cards. We made friends. I may have lost all my street cred, but I did gain a DCI Pro foil, only available at sanctioned events. Boo-Yah!

I Bring Home the Bacon Bits

With the holidays upon us, you are bound to have guests. Sure you want to look like the perfect wife and homemaker, but that Xbox is not going to play itself. Following these few easy tips can make you hero at your house while still having time to beat BabyMama24's high score.

1. Keep a guest room. It makes you look generous and hospitable. Put in the smallest, least comfortable bed possible and let the dogs nap there. Next, fill this room with stuff - your bike, filing cabinets, litter boxes, etc. Make it uninhabitable. You don't actually want people staying with you.

2. Cook. But not too well. Have some successes, sprinkled with glaring failures. If everything you make is really good, people will expect that. Going out to dinner is underrated. Make it happen. Burn the turkey and go to the Happy Mexican for fajitas. You will thank me.

3. Buy lots of underwear. For you, not your spouse. That way he will run out of clean undies before you and be forced to do laundry. Look busy. Make some break and bake cookies. He'll feel like you have shared the workload.

4. Never underestimate smell. Why bother with all kinds of cleaning? Spray air freshener or Lysol, or bleach - whatever. Smells clean? Must be! You guests will think they are complete assholes for doubting your housekeeping skills.

5. Wear an apron. You have to dress for success. An apron and loose updo go a long way.  And cute shoes. Glasses make you look smart. Clear plastic heels make you look like a stripper. A shitty haircut makes you look like Robert. An apron make you look like June Cleaver. If you look the part, people will respect you. Kinda like a mall cop. 

6. Recycle. It's fast, easy and free. Also you get to be really self righteous without having to buy a Prius.

7. Remember Coco Chanel. She always said to take one thing off before leaving the house. Too much ruins the effect. If you're too perfect your friends won't buy it. Leave a shelf undusted or "forget" to do your hair. Look like you are running five minutes late. Now you seem attainable and human. The girl next door.

Or you could just get a few sister wives. Oh, to dream. I'd get so much done if there were other women in my house half-assing their way through the chores. Sigh....Company's coming and I need to go muss my ponytail. How do I do it all?!

Wow. I Hate These Things.

Hair the Musical - no redeeming qualities. Bad music, bad choreography, bad lyrics. I get it, your edgy free spirits. But really, what drunk frat boy hasn't written a song about sodomy. 

Chocolate with pieces of fruit inside, or worse fruit cream. (except strawberries, but only actual berries and only if there is no weird berry goo in it. 

Mustang Sally and Brown-Eyed Girl. These are banned from any event I host.

Palin Supporters. You obviously can't be trusted to make sound judgements. I am voting Alaska out of the Union. Lunatics and drunkards, every one of 'em.

Contemporary gospel and light jazz.

Atlanta Drivers - see also Memphis, D.C., and any other city I have been to.

Boiled Custard - Drink egg nog or piss off.

The Dirty Projectors - They just can on XM. I hate them already.

"Fresh-a-licious" and other variations on delicious - see also Fergie.

"La Damnation de Faust"  - Metaphors only go so far. Berlioz fails to show the dichotomy of loneliness within in crowd.  Mephistopheles is too awkward and not playful or scary enough. The libretto is tragic, yet not a tragedy. The score is too contemporary for my taste with such a timeless story. I do not appreciate indulging the composer for too long, too many times. It is an opera after all, if no one is going to sing for 10 minutes (post overture) I expect a ballet. Dammit.

Fergie and her horse face and man shoulders, also her hair. Your butt can't fix everything, missy.

Chick-Fil-A.  This is not open for discussion.

WalMart - They are of the devil. See also, Sam's, Exxon, Walgreens and On the Border.

Olives. All colors, prepared all ways.

Blackbaud

Ancient Sea Gods Who Eat People

Frank Black post Pixies right up until he rejoined the Pixies.

The other people at a Henry Rollin's spoken word show

The idea that Batman is a SUPER-hero. A hero? Yes. Super? Nope.

Vegetarians who eat fish - You are not even fooling yourselves. 

The word "hubby" - arrrggghhhh!!!!

Don't even get me started on dirty dirty hippies or people chewing with there mouths open...

What Do You Get The Girl Who Hates Everything?

With the Holidays around the corner and my birthday only 11 weeks away, I'm sure you are all wondering what to get me. Tough, I know. Show up with too little and risk my wrath, too much and look like a kiss ass. Just kidding, there is no "too much".

Choosing the right gift is important. I have no doubt you have someone in your life who is hard to please, so here are some suggestions.

From lazyboneuk.com,  giant plushy microbes.

 I already have the Plague, as you know, but the others would be welcome. Stick to the top row if possible. There is nothing more pedestrian than giving someone "the flu".

Vikprjonsdottir.com has some of the most intriguing, yet 

repulsive knits I have ever seen. This blanket is much like the 

popular "as seen on TV" Snuggie, but obviously twice as good.

I am not sure if your are forced to stare at each other awkwardly across the sofa when you wear it. Maybe that is just an awesome side effect.

Etsy.com - Paraphernalia shop - Sleuth 

It's not that I want this. 

I NEED it. 

It is a necklace AND a disguise.

Seriously. 

Give it.

Now.

These knitting needles are gorgeous and lethal, just like me. I know, it seems silly to give me weapons. But just imagine what will happen if you don't. It's better for everyone If I get what I want. Get them now at oaklevelforge.com.

This is a pattern for a fish hat from Knitty.com. 

I would like someone in my life who would appreciate this enough to wear it. I will knit some right now. If you love me or fear me, you will wear the one I give you.

 This is the best thing I have ever seen.

So there you have it. A few of my favorite things. I feel like Oprah, but fatter, poorer, and less black. Whatever, at least my husband isn't a sissy and my best friend isn't Gail. Boo-ya!

Sweeping Generalizations - Haircut Edition

They say you can't judge a book by its cover. However, if you read 5 pages and they are all shitty, it's a good bet the rest of the book sucks eggs. 

To save you the time and trouble of getting to know people, I offer the following guide to judging people by their haircut.

I'm a Drug Dealer (especially if present with a goatee). 

Or I am so white bread that I believe this will give me "cred" on the streets for my terrible music. 

These only apply to white guys with dreads. 

I am in Beauty School. Also I buy all my clothes at American Apparel, no matter how gay that deep v-neck shirt makes me look. And believe me, that is plenty gay!

I think I am a Hipster. In truth, I am Emo. My best friend is in Beauty School. I like fro-yo and cosmos. I pass out. A lot.

This one is tricky. 

I want you to think I am punk. I am not. I have self esteem issues and have to find ways to get attention, just short of hitting the pole. (But I could do that, if you think I'm really pretty enough!) I'd do it for me though. Ya know. for empowerment, like a feminist.

Aren't I tough looking? I cry after sex.

This one can go either way.

I am a fat girl, but maybe you won't notice because my hair is so cute and edgy. Double points if it is also red.

Option 2: I used to be fat and now I am obsessed with Betty Paige and want to look like her. Triple score for black dye job.

I am a nurse or work in a medical office.  I play Bunko on Tuesdays. Have you met 

my child, er, cat Mr. Binkles?

I was cool in high school. (wasn't I?) I hav

e an ex-wife ( I still love you baby...) and a pack a day habit (Vantage Lights). I like sci-fi movies and anything with Bruce Willis, (especially his music!) I'm a good guy, but I will never be able to hold a conversation with your friends, or a job.

I am a spectacular wife, wonderful friend, and talented knitter. I have a good heart, kind spirit, and generous soul. You are lucky to know me.

So there you go. Hope this guide is helpful in your day-to-day dealings. I, for one, can't wait to meet that stunning creature featured last. Wow. 

If you have a question about these or other haircuts, please email me at operachristiana@gmail.com.

Things That Make My Life Harder - Volume 1

In an effort to catalog the growing list of Things That Make My Life Harder, I begin the list. This is by no means comprehensive or, for that matter, coherent.

1. Poor planning from others regarding butchery and the recovery of said butchery.

2. Weather. All of it.

3. People with a spoiler on their pickup truck. I hate you most.

4. Counting stitches. 1,2,3,shhhhh......grrr.....1,2,3.....

5. Oil changes that are really battery and tire changes also. Stupid cars. 

6. People who use the phrase "multinational media conglomerates" 

7. Good bread with a crust that is too big and crusty to be enjoyed and impedes the enjoyment of the good bread.

8. Burnt coffee. With grinds in it. Are we barbarians? 

9. The Who

10. Fake "New TiVo". You are not TiVo and I know it. You will not fool me.

Now I have to lie down.

All The Girls Hate Her

I have always liked to think that I am not like most girls. Truth is most girls like to think they are not like most girls. 

In fairness, I probably thought I wasn't like most girls, because I just don't like most girls. I grew up fat and smart and asthmatic. Popular girls beat the crap out of each other, you can only imagine how that went for me. They did everything short of holding me down and shitting on my chest. And probably only because they didn't think they could hold me down.

I'd like to say it made it a better person. And it did. Not in a mother Teresa way, full of kindness and patience. But in a "I feed off your sorrow" kind of way. I'm not bitter, I'm just great at being mean. It was a hidden talent, and the bitches I grew up with helped me discover that. Appreciated indeed.  

Cut to present day. I get married, learn to cook, knit and perform other house-wifely tasks with the greatest of ease. I am the feminist dream. I have it all. Except girlfriends. And much like the salmon swimming upstream the place of its birth, I seek the company of women. But what kind of women? How can I find other reclusive, opinionated, social outcasts with biting wits? I start a knitting group. 

"Why am I doing this?!?" I scream. "I don't even like women." But there I am in a coffee shop, every Tuesday, knitting, bitching about husbands, trading recipes, and being cliche as ever. You become what you hate, they say. The big secret is, I found the other girls who weren't like the other girls. We are loud, bitchy, nerdy and perfect. Suck on that, 6th grade.

Conclusions I Have Come To Today

1. Beans are not worth it. I won't wait 30 minutes for a table at Houston's and I love Houston's. Why am I spending hours cooking beans? They are not that important to me. They are not any better if i make them from "scratch". I will buy them in can from here forward.

2. Dusting the house is for sucks. 

3. I am cold all the time. WebMd lists the following conditions associated with the chills: 

Generalized Anxiety Disorder - Nope. Therapist confirms.

Cold exposure- I do not go outdoors. 

Lyme Disease - Again, no outdoors.

Tuberculosis - Does Asthma count?

Toxic Shock Syndrome - No. Eww.

Abscess - No. Double ewww.

West Nile Virus - Seriously, I am right in not dealing with nature.

Plague - Really?!?!?

Obviously, I have the Plague. Damn. Probably from being around all that dust.

Day One

So it turns it that ANYBODY can have a blog. I know, I've read them. Usually I go between two thoughts. "Wow. Really? Huh. " and "If I Meet You I Will Punch You". The latter was not available as a URL.

 I read a lot of blogs. My friends, family, random strangers. War and Peace they are not. Thankfully! If I had to read 1,475 pages of a liberal arts major talking as her dog (in early modern English, no less), I might have to end it all right then. 

It was suggested I start a blog about the things I hate, a long list indeed. (Including, but not limited to, cats, contemporary gospel, people chewing with their mouths open, W., eggs, uggs, acrylic yarn, boiled custard, and Washington D.C. in the summer.) I might write about the things I love, admittedly a shorter list. (Joe, my family and friends, my dogs, knitting, cooking, and music.) 

So hopefully, this blog will be shorter than War and Peace, and not half as dumb as the lonely grad student's. 

I do not promise to spell well, nor write well. I do not promise to be nice. I do not promise to update on a regular basis, though I will try. But I do promise to be slightly entertaining. If I am not, suck it up. It's free.