More Shameless Encounters

The mall is already playing Christmas music.

There are Christmas lights up and ON at the shopping center next to my house.

I've had "Grown Up Christmas List" stuck in my head for a good two weeks now.

Christmas is coming, my friends.

We must be ready.

I beg forgiveness from all of you for what I am about to do. I've stood on my Christmas-is-totally-commercial soapbox more times than I can count. I even wrote a Sunday School Christmas play all about finding the "true meaning of Christmas" at an advertising agency and I'm about to undo it all.

Let the hypocrisy begin:

I want to introduce you all to the brand new line of Erindipity Holiday Cards! These are my first attempt at seasonal greeting cards, and I ended up with a wide variety of ideas. Some cheesy, some funny, some sarcastic (shocking, I know) and some that most people won't even understand. But regardless, they are available for purchase online or at Bradley Paper in Wichita.

I can't thank the BP gang enough for their help with this creative endeavor in my life. They are awesome and their store is filled with awesome things. I encourage you to look to them for your paper needs, and also for your stock pile of Erindipity Cards, of course.

So, that's it. Check 'em out. Here. Let me know what you think. What you love. What you hate. And what you want for Christmas.

Forgive my contribution to the downfall of this sacred Holiday. But I'm hoping a card or two can brighten someone's day or offer a chuckle or five.

If you are seeking actual Nativity cards, check here.

But Erindipity cards are here. HERE. (There's more than one page, so make sure you click "next.")

Done. And. Done.

Greatness Encounters

If any other females ever want to ride in this car, they are in trouble. You see, this soonertastic Camry LE only has room for 1GR8TGAL.

Fruit Encounters

I discovered a funny t-shirt a while ago.

It had a picture of an apple on it, and the apple has a bite taken out of it. It pretty much looks like the Apple logo, but I'm sure it's just different enough that no one can get sued. Anyways, below the apple there is a single line of text. It reads:

"My bad." - Eve

Funny, right? I thought so. But then I got to thinking about it a little more - shocking, I know - and I have decided the apple has been unduly hated for decades.

All theological and philosophical ponderings aside, the account in Genesis simply mentions a "fruit." Who decided an apple was the forbidden fruit? It doesn't say anything about an apple.

Why not a persimmon or something that mothers don't generally pack in their children's lunches? Or even a durian, which apparently is a thorn covered fruit that has a very strong smell. Doesn't that seem more fitting? Shouldn't the fruit that led to the fall of mankind be more sinister than an apple?

Whoever had some kind of chip on their shoulder toward apples should really apologize for starting an irreversible slanderous campaign against an innocent fruit.

So, there.

Snoring Encounters

It happened again.

What?

This.

I went to a movie - The Informant to be more specific - and someone decided to snore through the entire second half. Not just a heavy breathing snore, either. We are talking a full fledged wake-yourself-up-because-your-sudden-snorts-are-so-loud kind of snore.

Listen, if you want to pay nine buckaroos for a nap, that's your business. I don't have to approve your monthly budget. But I would appreciate it if you could splurge on a package of Breathe Right strips too.

Oh, and I haven't even told you about the worst part yet.

Ready?

He wasn't alone.

The snorer had a friend with him.

Wait, actually, it couldn't have been a friend, because I am certain an actual friend would have woken him up and kept him from disturbing everyone in the theater. That's what friends are for. Clearly Sir Snores-Alot was accompanied by a foe, not a friend. (Yep, I just used the word "foe.") I have no other explanation for how a friend could possibly let the person they are with be that obnoxious. A foe, on the other hand, would have reveled in the glares from the other theater patrons.

Yes, he must have been a foe. A very successful foe.

On a separate note: you should see The Informant and tell me what you think. It's different and has a crazy story. I liked it just because of Matt Damon's inner monologue. Absolute hilarity.

Fishy Encounters

Did you know that Swedish fish are made in Canada?

It's true. I'm sitting here at my desk with a bag of SWEDISH fish and it clearly states they are made in Canada - not Sweden. False advertise much? I don't know why I care about this. Maybe I need to get over it, but for the time being I'm going to stew and feel cheated. It's a grey, cold Tuesday, what else do I need to be doing?

I think it's my duty to turn this traumatizing moment into a life lesson. What good is a moment of shock and disappointment if you can't learn anything from it?

Life Lesson: there are many things that ought to be questioned.

Believe it or not, this is a difficult lesson for me swallow. You see, I'm a rules girl. Always have been. Sure, I've been known to push the limits a little. For example, there were these stairs in my sorority house that we weren't supposed to use unless we had guests or were graduated. (They said something about keeping them clean and yada yada yada...) They told us not to walk on them, but they never told us not to ride down them in a laundry basket. So, being the rules girl that I am, I went ahead and cruised down in my trusty RubberMade sled. But aside from my moments of childish genius, I'm content to just follow the rules.

They say, "Don't open this door," and I say, "OK. Anybody wanna go get a snack?"
Don't swim til 30 minutes after you've eaten - no problem.
Be home by this time - fine by me.
Make sure you get this grade - sure thing.
Eat this, it's good for you - if you say so.
Enjoy these candied fish from Sweden - Absolut....Wait just a second.

While I have no intention of developing a rebellious streak, I think I'm going to ask more questions, because clearly I don't over analyze things enough...

I will, however, say one thing for my fishy friends: they have an interesting website.

Racing Encounters

We've had a rainy September. The sun seems to be holding its own this week, but I would say about 70% of this month was spent with grey skies and oodles of puddles for pouncing.

Last week I was riding in a car on a rainy day - not driving, mind you - and I was reminded of an old pastime of mine: Raindrop Races.

Am I the only kid who used to ride in the backseat on rainy days and turn my window of water droplets into an intense competition? The rain drops would trickle down the window and gain speed as they absorbed other little drops. They would race down the glass until they crashed into that little black rubber window guard at the bottom. My drop always won - go figure. It was very exciting.

As far as what this says about my obession with competition and victory...well, I'll let you be the judge. But I have to warn you, if you judge me, I will challenge your judgment and win.

Yes, it's that bad. Yes, I'm working on it. And no, it's not easy. But I'll make it. Mark my words. I will overcome this challenge, just like I always do...

I mean...

Aw, fiddlesticks.

Aunt Encounters

My adorable adopted niece, previously featured here, has been having a tough time lately. Her little sister was born in March and I'm afraid she's suffering from middle child syndrome. She has been unusually grumpy lately. Really grumpy. So grumpy, in fact, that has refused multiple cookies on multiple occasion. We are talking seriously grumpy here, people.

Two weeks ago, she was in a particularly terrible mood while I was hanging out at her house. The events of that evening are etched in my brain. Why? Well, I'll tell you. On that fateful night, my dear, sweet, adorable adopted niece was giving goodnight hugs and said these words: "I don't like Aunt Erin." Not only did she not want to hug me, she actually said she didn't like me. At all. Out loud. Part of me died inside.

Her parents were quick to jump in and tell her that wasn't nice and tried to comfort me by telling me that every other day she says she doesn't like one of them. But it didn't really help. I mean, they are the parents. They punish and yell and make you do chores and say please and stuff, but I am the cool aunt. The word "no" is not in my vocabulary. I felt so betrayed.

But then, last week, something changed. I was at her house again (I'm there quite a bit), and I was sitting on the couch in the living room. All of a sudden, I heard a call from the bathroom down the hall. It was Ana. She said, "Auuuuunnnnnnntttttt Errrrrrrrrrrrriiiinnnnn!" My heart leapt up inside me. She wanted me. ME.

I was ready to jump up off the couch and get her the moon if she needed it when I heard her little scruffy voice finishing her statement. She yelled, "WIPE ME!" I put my moon lasso down and plopped back on the couch and died laughing.

The good news? Looks like I'm back on the nice list.

The bad news? I have a feeling it's going to be several months before she is a fully competent wiper.