There has been a tradition in Madre and Padre’s house of “prizes”, which are little tokens that you give amongst the family “just because.”� I think that it originates from Grandma Gauchat’s house and the three boys would leave with brown-paper sacks full of snacks/candy/various sundry things to entertainment.� Once, Madre complained that they boys were too old for their goody-bags, and obstinant-Grandma-Gauchat’s response was, “The hell they are!”
And so, I’ve succumbed to giving prizes when I see neat things for The Boys.� I once bought them all lighters in their corresponding colors: The Boy got a red one, Edward Norton-Twin got one in blue, and Abercrombie-Twin got one in green.� I think they all lost their lighters, but it’s truly the thought that counts.
Anyway, The Boy had a unique name for 1981, and when he was growing up, Madre always had a hard time finding prizes with his name on them.� In recent years (about the last five or so), The Boy’s name has regained popularity, and all of a sudden, things that are personalized to his name are everywhere.� [My name, however, is still always the less-formal spelling of which; which I answer to, but I don’t specifically go by.]
Near to my house is a Drug Mart, which is something of a purveyor of crap.� Like, this place sells some of the weirdest shit I’ve ever seen.� But, they purvey a lot of personalized crap, so every time I go, I look to see what they have.� Sometimes, notepads; sometimes photo-frame keychains; sometimes pen-and-pencil sets.� I always check to see if they have The Boy’s name.
Today, I bought The Boy a prize: his name, on a magnet.
I like buying him prizes.
pronounced : meem
I don’t know what it is, besides just being easier than providing a narrative of my life, but I like filling them out.
Here you can find a listing of a ton of different memes. The one that I’m working on today is one that’s all “OMG CREDITWH0RZ”. And, since I like to be subversive, I’m not going to join, but I am going to credit back to the source. My blog is an internet nobody anyway, so who cares if I join or not?
The Monday Melee
1. The Misanthtropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate.
The need that some people need to treat people who are waiting on them like absolute shit. People, in general, suck. I used to think that humanity was inherently good, but I’m seeing more and more evidence to the contrary.
2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
Don’t ever buy jewelry from department stores. It’s shittily made, it’s pretty non-unique, and the markup is completely insane.
3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
My mother’s attitude towards my impending wedding.
4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
I don’t know how to answer this one. Seriously. Pass.
5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
No one is afraid of introducing me to people: I’m very good at being charming, friendly, and put-together.
6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
A new job.
A few days ago, maybe in relation to this post, The Boy asked me what turned me on.
Without hesitation, I said cowboys. Long before the phenom that was Brokeback, I had a…thing for cowboys. Don’t ask me why, don’t ask me how, but when I see a Stetson, Reistol, or Renegade by Bailey, I get a little turned on. It’s why I aggressively forced The Boy to buy a $15 imitation cowboy hat from the Cuyahoga County Fair. Next to Carson Kressley’s book on male fashion, it’s been one of the best investments in my relationship.
I tell you that story to tell you this story. I apparently get the same turned-on feeling from Tommy cologne. And, even worse, it apparently doesn’t matter which gender is wearing it. My very female co-worker likes to wear men’s cologne (which is apparently a new trend in fashion, but cool); she of course, was wearing Tommy as scent-du-jour today. She’d walked by my for about the 33rd time today and I’d finally had enough.
“[Co-Worker], get the hell away from me! You are about three feet from a girl-on-girl experience!”
She switched to Nautica, which to me has no smell. If I don’t get sued for sexual harassment at this job before I quit, it’ll be no small miracle.
[Sidenote: Don’t ever Google “cowboy” looking for pictures to accentuate your post. You will inevitably be inundated with some of the weirdest interpretation of “cowboy” ever.]