Friday, August 27, 2010

I am 34% not an epic fail as of today!

Remember my Shit to Do list that I was so certain I was going to fail at? Well I successfully completed some things! I got my oil changed which then the dude at Tires Plus informed me that my tires were on the brink of popping (a.k.a. "the tred is beneath state regulations blah blah blah" a.k.a. I won't make it the 930 miles that I must drive next Tuesday through the most boring, foresaken area of the country (Nebraska)) so I had to call Daddy and have him bail me out of being held hostage at Tires Plus in the isolated, underground, windowless chamber where they keep all the people who come in for oil changes but can't pay afterwards because I couldn't afford the $500 to buy new tires on a car that's technically not mine. (<--that's the excuse I used)

And my $23.99 coupon that includes oil & tire rotation didn't include new tires.

I asked.

He said no.

I also managed to pack up most of my stuff. (Woo-hoo!) But I think I may have failed because I went to my buddies house right before and he had recently discovered this stuff called K2 which is basically fake pot that you can buy in most U.S. states legally and it gets you, like, reaaaally stoned but its TOTALLY LEGAL. Even in Minnesota. So by the time I got home I was being a little bit of a retard and found things to do like play with my doggy and rummage the refridgerator instead.

(That reminds me of my favorite joke ever. It goes:

Anti-Pot Propagandist: Marijuana is a gateway drug.

Witty Pothead: To what, my refridgerator?)

Anyway. I basically threw everything I owned into a suitcase and called it packing. I left things like my toothbrush out because I should probably use it sometime in the next few days.

This afternoon I am departing for Berry, Kentucky (spelled wrong in my last post, my bad), a town of 300 people where I will be visiting my great-great aunt on a farm. I also found out she is a Kentucky Colonel, which totally makes me think of THE Colonel of Kentucky Fried Chicken (which I'm hoping to eat lots of this weekend) but apparently its legitimately a big deal if you live in Kentucky to have this honor bestowed upon you. Kind of like being Knighted in England. Only it's Kentucky. Or being dubbed a Pokemon Master.


4 days until I am a mile high and livin' fly. In case you don't remember, I'm really excited to go back to Denver. I've been slightly bitter about being in Minnesota all summer, (although I do like the state, I just don't like living here ~ there's a difference) so this is basically the epitome of my summer.

I don't think I used the word epitome right.

I'm going to google it.

Nope, it means a standard or good example.


Well, I'm currently sitting at my desk at the P.R. firm for the last time, bringing you this blog entry because it will be my last one brought-to-you from work. The next ones will be from my apartment in Denver or from class.

I bet you're excited.

Anyway. I really can't think of anything else to write.

If you've read this far, I love you dearly and want to be your best friend and I'll bring you back some REAL Kentucky fried chicken.

You can hold me to it.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Craigslist Pranks

In the past few months, I've heard of two accounts of pranks friends of mine have pulled on other friends involving those other friends' cell phone numbers and Craigslist.

I need to know, which is worse?

Prank #1
Last spring, a friend of mine was telling me about how him and another guy (whom I actually didn't know at the time) went to Fort Collins for the weekend and when they got back, realized this other guy forgot his phone. It would be another few days before he could go get it (since FoCo is like an hour drive from Denver at least) so my friend goes on to Craigslist and under the "adults" section makes an entry that resembles this:

"13-year old girl looking for older man. Well-endowed men only, must send photo. Text to 123-456-7890." (that pretend number being his buddy's number whose phone was still in FoCo).

Lets just say he got a lot of responses.

Prank #2
This happened to one of my buddies earlier this summer. One of his frat bros decides to go on Craigslist and make an ad that was along the lines of this:

"Free Twilight premier tickets! Call or text 123-456-7890!"

Yeah, he had like a thousand voicemails.

I would like to know two things:

Firstly, which of these two is worse?

Secondly, anybody have a better one? I will update this post and add yours in if I get good ones!

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

List of Shit to Do that I'm trying very very hard to accomplish but probably won't because I am an epic fail

I have percisely one week left before I depart for Denver (ALAS!) but have a long of Shit To Do List that actually needs to get accomplished or else my leaving Minnesota will be compromised and I'll be stuck in this foresaken (sorta) land forever and I'll die miserable and lonely and at sea level.

Let's see if this shit can get done...

Adrienne's Shit To Do List
(because I need help help me, readers! I'm counting on you for survival!)

1) ok, I'll delay this one like the professional procastinator in which I am.

The real numba 1) Oil change for my car. Welp, I have an appointment. I even printed a coupon that's includes oil change and tire rotation for $23.99 at Tires Plus which is cheaper than the last time I did it which was about four years ago and I paid $45 for just an oil change. I know Momma took my car in when I was at school once so its not like the oil's never been changed for four years, I just never accomplish shit and Momma knows that. But I plan to just get stoned first which always makes time pass by quicker.... I mean ice cream. Ice cream makes time pass by quicker.

2) Eye doctors appointment. Momma's only been telling me all summer that I need to make an appointment and finally got the last one available which means I have to go to work earlier so I can leave earlier and I hate mornings more than life itself so I may only be like 15 minutes late. Whoopsies in advance.

3) Pack. Motherfuuuuckerrrrrr the WORST task of 'em all. Also considering I have more clothes than TJ Maxx this task really will suck its own balls.

4) Barry, Kentucky, where I am being dragged for my last weekend of summer for some family stuff which I really wouldn't mind but we have to drive back to Minnesota afterwards because my great aunt who is already there won't fly so basically I'm riding down with my parents and aunt to pick her up so I'll be squeezed in the back seat with my two aunts for 14-hours then have a day off before I have to drive all the way to Denver with just my dad and a car load of shit. That is if I get remember this oil change appointment because otherwise my car probably won't make it which would be a tragedy.


6) Clean up my desk. I've been habitating in this same desk for roughly 4o-hours a week all summer and have collected a plethora of items, including Twins bobblehead, random pictures I printed off facebook of my friends and I having fun and at cool places like Red Rocks, AP Stylebook (aka the BIBLE if you work in PR or Journalism) and a bunch of papers that now that I am looking at them are completely unorganized and I might just dump in the recycling bin. But then again I might accidentally throw away something important like a paycheck or the hard copy of this Shit To Do List.

7) Happy Hour! Turns out my co-workers actually like me enough to throw me a farewell fiesta at Chevy's patio during Happy Hour tomorrow after work! And the best part is Momma works down the street so I've already arranged a DD! Woohoo for plans to get drunk before 6pm!

Another 7) I say 7 again because right after happy hour my mom and I are going to some event downtown that I already forget exactly what it is but it involves free food therefore I'm totally down.

8) Pack. FUCK.

9) Dentist appointment on my one day off between Barry and Denver. Dentist = Devil because no matter how much I floss (once or twice a month, or after eating corn on the cob) its never ever ever good enough :(

10) Get work done. Instead of blogging my Shit To Do List. I kind of have it written down, but I feel like sharing it with you all because if I do forget something I can blog "Hey, what was it I have to do again?" and you can be like "Adrienne, PACK DAMMIT!" and I can be like "FUCK I really should get on that before Monday night rolls around and I have absolutely nothing together." Which will probably end up happening. Ooooh welp.

Update: One last thing: obsessively compulsively check my email/bank account to see if I got Phish fall tour tickets and this pre-order request thingy worked! AHHH!!!!!

Monday, August 23, 2010

Ask Adrienne!

I randomly googled "Ask..." and came up with an Ask Amy column out of the Chicago Tribune. I decided since I am slightly more qualified than Dr. Phil in solving people's life problems, I would pull an intriguing recent letter she received and, without reading her response, write one for myself. So I found this one:

Dear Amy:
I have been dating the same man for almost two years.
I have two jobs that I work Monday-Friday so my only free time is on the weekends or a few hours after my last job ends.
I have never met his family (even though they live in the same metro area). I've never been invited to any family functions or to join him after I get off work if he is out with his friends.
He will not tell me where he lives and has only stayed overnight at my apartment a handful of times.
Register with Chicago Tribune and receive free newsletters and alerts >> (<- randomness that broke up the ever-so-intriguing letter)
We have never been on a real date but rather we always meet at a designated place.
I have teased him about having a wife and his comment to me is that I must think very poorly of him if I think he would cheat on a spouse.
He tells me he loves me often.
I am not a young, naive woman!
I know that he is hiding something and it's just driving me crazy to know the real story! I have finally given him the boot and am sticking to my guns about taking him back for the millionth time!
How do I get him to fess up?
He's an attorney so he is very good at evading questions and chooses his words carefully. I could never win an argument with him and never even tried — it wasn't worth the frustration!
— Wants to Know

Here is my response:

Dear Wants to Know,

You suck. Seriously, you put up with this bullshit for two years? It really doesn't sound like you're dating at all. Normal couples tell each other where they live and do things like go on dates. I'm pretty sure the progression of relationships are 1) date 2) relationship. If you've never gone on a date, you're not in a relationship.

He probably does have a wife. He probably has like 7 kids too and his wife's probably smokin' hot with gigantic boobs and plastic surgeried face (if he's a lawyer he probably can afford that shit). If he's banging you (probably all he wants, sorry toots) then she's probably prude and he needs his fix of sex.

There's also the other option that he doesn't have a family but is ashamed because he's really a serial killer and murdered his family and that's why he lies and says they live in the area but it's also why you've never met them. And he probably isn't really a lawyer and doesn't want you to know he lives in a cardboard box in an alleyway because that's all he can afford but wants you to think he's busy and that's why he never hangs out.

OR he lives with his parents. And how old are you, like 30? Yeah, if a guy still lives with mom and dad when he's 30 then you've got problems. Which would also go back to the fact that he's not really a lawyer because otherwise he would be able to afford to move out.

I would tell you to dump him, but you've clearly wised up. Keep him dumped, but going with my gut feeling that the serial killer theory is the correct one, I'd advise moving. I'd also get an alarm system for your windows and doors and maybe some Rottweilers to guard your house because soon enough he's going to realize you wrote this letter to Amy but I decided to respond instead and that I am right about the serial killer thing so he'll kill you and possibly me too so nobody finds out.

Also, I would advise you not to date again. You clearly suck at it.


If anybody else would like to send me their letters and have me solve their life problems for them, I'm clearly very good at it. Letters can go to:

How I failed Saturday before noon

Saturday morning, I woke up not as hungover as I expected. As it was my last weekend in town, Mom and I had to run errands and pick up a few last-minute apartment things to put in my car for me to take back to Denver (8 days) so I could live normally.

Mom said she wouldn't be ready for an hour and a half, so being awake and all, I decided it would be a good idea to cook breakfast! Now I've really never learned to cook before in my life, and, being as in approximately 9 days I will be living by myself in an apartment with no one to cook for me, I've taken it upon myself this summer to learn. One thing I enjoy eating are breakfast scrambles, so I decide to make one.

Last time I attempted one, I didn't cook the potatoes enough, so they turned out cold and crunchy and awkward-tasting. So I was sure to thoroughly cook the potatoes and onions before adding the eggs and other vegetables that need less cooking.

I chopped up other vegetables that I thought would go well - one in particular was a red bell pepper that was in a bag of vegetables my aunt had brought over from her garden. I picked out all the seeds and chopped it up and when it was time to add it in, dumped it in with the eggs and whatnot and finished the scramble.

As everything was finally getting cooked, I felt a slight burning sensation on my lip. Suddenly, it spread, so I itched my face thinking it was just an itch but then my cheeks started burning, so I tried to wipe it away and before I knew it my face was on fire. When I say on fire, I don't mean normal just-spent-too-much-time-in-the-sun-and-now-I'm-a-lobster fire, I mean I thought I was going to die. I tried to suck it up and just eat the scramble I'd worked so hard on, but it progressively got worse. When I took a bite of the bell pepper I had put in, I realized that it wasn't a bell pepper- it was a chili pepper (most likely a product of Satan).

This is what it felt like:

I ran around the house trying to figure out what to do. Mom was in the shower and Dad wasn't home so I was on my own. I drank some milk, and rubbed some on my face thinking it would help.

It helped for about 2 seconds.

I washed my face, which helped for another 2 seconds before it started burning again.
Finally I found a bottle of aloe in my room, stashed on a shelf with sunscreen and other vacation-ey items and smeared about 2 handfuls of that on my face. That finally helped slightly more sufficiently, but I seriously looked like a sunburnt lobster and had to use ample amounts of makeup to cover it up since I had a work event in a few hours and didn't want my co-workers to think I was any more of a flake than I already am.

Mom and I ran errands and I refrained from telling her about the disaster that happened while she was showering.

Later that afternoon, I got dropped off downtown because I had to work an event for my summer internship, which is with the Minnesota Timberwolves (yes I am cool like that). I went into the office and collected everything we needed ~ giveaways, directions to the parade route, and my co-workers phone numbers just in case.

Part of this process was picking up the van that we would have to drive through the parade. I got picked up in front of the Target Center and we drove the 10 minutes out of the city to the sketchy parking lot where they store the new van because it doesn't fit in any of the parking garages downtown. (I seriously think this lot is used for storing our van, a party bus and drug deals involving pounds and pounds of blow).

We get to the lot and had been chipperly catching up on life when I realized I had forgotten something very important ~ the key to the van.

We were already running late, we were supposed to have left the lot at noon, and it was approximately 12:20pm. We had to be in Moundsview at 12:30pm, which is probably another half an hour drive away from where we were.

We gunned it back into the city, and I ran back to the office and grabbed the key, and we drove all the way back to the lot, finally hitting the road to the event at 1:00pm, the time the parade was set to begin.

There was also a third intern working this particular parade, who was planning on meeting us at the route because she commutes from Mankato (which is about 2 hours from the city) and thought it would be easier. But for God-knows-WHAT reason she decided to leave her house without directions and assumed we would know the area in which the parade was at (which neither of us did) and called us asking in the most whiney voice possible where she was supposed to go. I texted her the directions, but somehow they weren't clear and as we were trying to figure out where we were going (which is hard with the amount of construction that is currently happening in Minneapolis) I had to figure out where she was. Did I mention I am not familiar with Moundsview and I am also directionally retarded? Yeah, she was a pain in the ass.

Finally, as my co-worker is gunning the 10-ton van down 35-W and nearly killing us a half a million times, we see our exit coming up in 3 3/4 miles. Mankato-chick called me back for the umpteenth time, asking if it was Highway 10 or County Road 10 we had to take. My directions said "County Highway 10" because apparently our supervisor didn't read closely and didn't know Moundsview either. I told her I didn't know and the directions had a typo and she'd have to stop at a gas station to ask for directions ~ which apparently was beneath her so she whined to me and asked if I could look it up (because obviously I had the ability to do that at the time).

We finally get her to the parade route and tell her to ask someone if we can still sneak in the back of the parade, since we'd missed our #22 spot and would probably only be able to make it in the end. Thankfully Moundsview people are friendly and let us slip in, and when we pulled up with the van Mankato informs us that she's feeling antisocial and wants to drive the van through the route.

We let her so we wouldn't have to deal with her if she was locked up in the van.
Through the entire six blocks of the parade, my face was still burning from hot chili pepper juice.

And that's how I successfully failed Saturday.

Update: After the parade I got dropped off downtown where I met my Mom for a late lunch (needless to say I didn't eat the scramble and was starving by now) and had one simple task - drop the van key off in the office, which I forgot to do and didn't realize until this morning when my supervisors called me asking where the key was and I had to pay $20 to have it couriered from my one internship to their offices downtown.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Streets that ACTUALLY EXIST! (the proof)

When Cara and I were driving to Wisconsin the other day, we had to take all sorts of funny named streets. Most of them I don't remember percisely, but you know when you kind of remember something but its not the exact phrase so you use something thats really because you'd sound like an idiot without an example of whatever it is you are talking about? Yeah, they resemble something like these in my memory:
  • Waschcahbihola Avenue
  • Rauaschaizo Street
  • Lacheezeahopp Way
"Cara, Wisconsin has the weirdest names for their streets," I stated. I was also the navigator, so I needed some legitimate reason that we kept missing turns once we got off I-94.

So today during my lunch break, which I always use to surf the internet, I googled "weird Wisconsin street names" and found a website with this national list of the most fucked up street names in the United States (and one in the UK!). Thinking that there was no chance they were real, I MapQuested some of them. Here are the screen shots, courtesy of MapQuest and my work computer's mad screen shot skillz.

The intersection of Pleasure Drive and Hooker Avenue in Madison, Wisconsin, where the UW kids go to relieve stress during finals week.

Jackass Hill Road in Littleton, Colorado. Thank you, MapQuest, for censoring it for me. I am very offended by the term Jackass and can't believe someone named a street that in the great state of Colorado! Ughh.

Stoner Avenue in Los Angeles, California. Hey, I think we've all figured out California's a pretty, um, green state anyway.

And the grand finale, the intersection of Cuming and 69th in Omaha, Nebraska. Damn those Nebraskans, they're so horny they can't even keep it off the streets!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

A letter to Minneapolis

Disclaimer: I do like Minneapolis, or parts of it anyway, when its not subzero temperatures outside and there's stuff going on. Its a lovely city that can be quite entertaining. I just get frustrated at things like this. Anyway.... to continue. Eh-hem..

Dear Minneapolis,

What kind of city are you?! All I had to do was run into my office downtown for a half hour meeting with Boss. I didn't want to waste my money on your ever-so-expensive-during-the-weekdays and super-sketchy parking ramps, so I do what any normal, money conscious person would do - park at a meter. I gave your damn meter ALL the quarters I had left so I wouldn't have to worry about time, and guess what I found when I came back out? Three minutes left on the meter and A FUCKING TOWED CAR!

So I call your silly 311 number, and in as calm of a voice that I could have possibly mustered at the time, tell the lady that my car was towed with time still on the meter.

"Is it a red meter?" she asks.

"No, its gray, just like every other meter," I replied, trying to think of ever seeing a red meter. "There's a big sign that says no parking from 10pm to 6am [[it was 4:20 a this point, roughly]] and nothing else."

"Well we don't tow cars with time left on the meter."

Clearly, you do. There was also three or four other cars when I parked, which was at about 3:45pm, all of which were now gone.

"Well you can go to the impound lot and see if its there," she replies.

Where is the impound lot? Oh, 1.5 miles from where I was standing at that moment in God-knows-what direction.

And, as a side note, Minneapolis, you are the worst labeled city EVER. Last summer when I worked in your downtown, I could wander around for blocks before I saw a street sign that could tell me remotely where I was. And you don't have mountains like Denver so I don't even know if I'm facing east south northwest up down or what!

Anyway, going back to my story. I go back to the meter and examine it, and find, hidden on the bottom of the meter a tiny 2x1 inch sticker that reads "No parking 4pm-6pm."

WHAT THE FUCK! WHY would you overshadow such important information with a gigantic shiny sign that says you can't park there overnight!!! And remember, I'm ADD, I get distracted by shiny things and therefore I was staring at the shiny dont-park-here-overnight sign and NOT the little, faded, difficult-to-notice sticker that was hidden in its shadow.

Since I wasn't exactly sure I had the money to bail myself out in my checking account, I call Mommy, cursing and crying over the phone at your inability to properly label your parking meters as a passive-aggressive means to swindle money out of me because Pawlenty took all yours with his failing economic policies. (Different tale...)

She laughs at me, puts on the whole loving mother act and tells me to wait downtown and she'll come get my car for me, take me out to dinner, give me a bandaid for the mental boo-boo this has made on me and that everything will be okaaaay.

Fine. Welp, Mommy couldn't leave work for another hour and doesn't work downtown, so I am currently sitting outside a Panera, hacking their wireless without purchasing any of their food because I can't afford it, pouting over my cancelled plans with friends because I won't get home in time to meet up with them because my car is in your fucking impound lot, and waiting impatiently for Mommy.

Oh, and I think there's splinters in my butt from this bench.

So, Minneapolis, yet another reason I'm excited to leave you for Denver. I'm sorry it had to be this way, but I just can't be with a city that swindles me for money so passive-aggresively and poorly labels everything within its boundaries.

NO love,


Update: Mommy informed me she laughed because when I called her all hysterical and crying and telling her I had a problem, she thought I'd gotten in an accident or got a DUI or something and was actually relieved it was only a car towing.

Second update: They gave me a fucking parking ticket! Now my absolutely PERFECT driving record is dented by this SMUT! AAAAHHH!!!!!!! (perfect insurance record I mean, so that accident from 5 1/2 years ago doesn't count anymore)