Why I Hate my Name.

In the second grade, after recess on Fridays, my teacher would have some sort of way for us to make 5 pennies. She would ask the entire class a certain question on Monday, and we had an entire week to find the answer to the question. These questions would be easy, mind you. We were second graders. Questions like, "What is your heritage", or "What is your favorite animal and why". Questions a 7 year old could answer. If the question was right, she would give us 5 pennies. If wrong, no money. The rules were simple.

One Monday, she asked us to find out what our name meant. It was an exciting one, a harder one to figure out. So I went home and asked my dad what my name meant.

'We found your name in a dictionary," he said.

"We liked the name Amber because it sounded cool, and it is a semi-precious rock, just like you. Millions of years ago, in the pre-historic era, mosquitoes were enormous. They would try to drink the tree sap from trees, but the sap would trap the mosquitoes inside, where they remained for millions of years. Over time, the sap would petrify while continuing to preserve the mosquito on the inside. Your name comes from the finished product, the petrified amber. The tree sap, and the color of the sap."

I thought that this was an awesome answer. I loved that the mosquitoes probably had seen dinosaurs, and who doesn't like dinosaurs? This was going to rule.

Friday rolls around and I am practically peeing myself. I was so excited to tell everyone what my name meant! I had the coolest name ever!

'Any volunteers to go first?" My teacher asked, but I was already halfway up to the front of the class room.

And I told everyone word for word what my dad told me.

And I waited to get my 5 pennies.

My teacher had a baby name book to see if our answers were real.

"Close, but not quite." She said.

What?

"Your name means 'golden yellow brown'. Now, who is next?"

I didn't get my 5 pennies.

My name cost me getting money.

I hate my name.

Fun with Catalogs!

When I am not having a party being a waitress at my place of employment, I work the front desk. Usually, this means I answer phones and sit there (mainly a lot of sitting).

There are occasions where I am blessed to find a magazine

or a catalog which makes the time go by a lot faster, and which makes for some pretty compelling entertainment. Except when there are 3 pages full of personal massagers. Then I want to kill myself.

Luckily for you (and me) there were no vibrators in this issue of Harriet Cole magazine. Even better, there was a picture of a delicious looking meat-loaf right on the cov

er to draw me in!

As you can tell, this man is extremely happy having his hair cut. I bet he would be even happier if he had a body. What this product is supposed to do is keep the hair from falling on the ground which makes it harder to to clean up, but I would rather make a huge mess on the bathroom floor than to ever wear this. He looks like a modern day Queen.

By Day, Harvey Wilson is a regular man. Nobody pays him any attention, and he goes about his daily activities of working for the local Bank. Sometimes, he goes a little bit crazy, and takes the day off so he can read a book! Yowza! What a dangerous man! But by night...

Harvey is known as Fleece-Man, the bank robber. He uses his skills as a banker to his advantage and makes the best out of his situation. And since he is very careful about never ever showing his identity, he never gets caught.

Or he is a rapist.

There really isn't much to say about this image, except for the fact that it is a toilet mug. Let me repeat that statement. This man is drinking coffee. Out of a toilet shaped mug. And we yell at dogs for drinking out of a toilet. I have heard of people drinking some pretty shitty coffee, but I guess this somehow better than drinking it out of a regular mug?

This is not the face of a man who is happy to be wearing a necklace (LIKE A PRO). This is the face of a man who has died emotionally years ago. I bet the girl he loved gave him this necklace, and shortly after she died in a horrific freak accident (perhaps by drinking poison out of a coffee mug???) and the man carries on her legacy by wearing this for the rest of his life.

Or maybe he just really likes wearing ugly pieces of jewelry.

And this is a beer holster. So your hands are free to hold other, more important things. Like maybe another beer?

The rest of the magazine was pretty much like this, except for a lot more puppies and support hose.

It all boils down to this, though-

PEOPLE ACTUALLY BUY THESE THINGS. THERE IS A MARKET FOR TOILET MUGS AND BEER HOLSTERS.

The people who produced this catalog are either terrible human beings or ultimate geniuses.

Or Both. I haven't really decided yet.

Adventures in Babysitting

Sometimes I babysit, as a way to make some extra cash, because my mediocre minimum wage job does not cut it.

I was walking to their house, when a girl with big sunglasses started sprinting towards me. Usually, this means they know who I am, and will end up hugging me, so I stopped and opened my arms wide to recieve the hug. It turns out she didn't know me, and did not want a hug.

So i continue on my merry way to their home, to babysit girl #1 (Names will not be given). Girl #1 is in 5th grade and has a friend, girl #2 over. Girl #2 is in 3rd grade.

OK, I can handle this. Girl #1's dad gives me instructions to take care of the girls while he and his sister go to the big football game that I should be going to because I am in college and it is my team, but I hate football so it doesn't really matter. Girl #1 wants to get sno-cones, I tell her let's wait. Girl #2's sister comes over, who is in the same grade as girl #1. Girl #1 is working on a poster for school and tells them to shut up because they are making too much noise. So girl #2's sister goes home.

Pizza comes, we eat pizza. Girl #2 asks if we can go get sno cones now. It is 630, we can be there and back by 7. Sure. I open the door and there is another little girl, who wants to come with us. Fine. I can totally handle this. Girl #1 and girl #3 ride their bikes, I pull girl #2 in a wagon. Sno cones are 4 blocks away, we make it there when girl #1 say her ankles hurt. Do you want to go home? I ask her. She say no, it doesn't hurt that bad. Let's go to the park! She says. No, time to go home, I say. NO. WE GO TO THE PARK. Girl #1 says. So we go to the park.

We are there for a little bit when I figure it is time to go home for reals. Not even kidding now, I'm in mean babysitter mode now. Girl #2 and girl #3 switch their rides, so I am pulling a different girl. We head on when girl #1 starts to cry because her ankle hurts. Girl #2 starts to cry because she thinks her dad is going to kill her, and girl #3 starts to cry because everyone else is crying. I am freaking out, so I call my mom. She is at the football game, so she can't help. I try to move the girls alone, but nobody is budging. We have to go! I say, but everybody is too busy crying. Girl #2 calls her mom to pick us up so she comes and picks us up. I thank her profusely, she says No Problem! brightly to me, but tells her daughter she is in major trouble. I get to their house, girl #2's mom walks girl #3 home, everybody goes home.

I get inside and sit down. How is your ankle? I ask girl #1. It doesn't hurt anymore.

Well, shit.

Girl #1's dad gets home, and gives me a ride to my house. I tell him everything, he laughs and says his daughter can be manipulative like that. He gives me 50 dollars.

I tell my mom everything, she says I am stupid.

I am the worst babysitter ever.

I am never babysitting ever again.

Why I wish I were a Hobbit

If I could be anything in the world, it would be a hobbit.

Why a hobbit? I could be an amazing elf, a dwarf, or even a regular human (which I already am, which defeats the purpose, somewhat). But a hobbit is the ultimate way to go.

I can eat multiple meals all day long and smoke my pipe when I am full and happy.

I wouldn't have to be ashamed of my hairy feet (I totally don't have hairy feet. But if I did, I wouldn't be ashamed of them).

I would be around half as tall as I am now. I have never really had a chance to feel like what it would be like to be short, and it would be nice to see both sides of the coin, if you will. Besides, it would be nice to have tall people do stuff for me, for a chance, instead of the other way around.

I could eat as often as I want, and it would be relatively normal.

I would live in a sweet-ass hobbit hole, which would be worth it just for that.

I could eat cake and drink tea all day.

I like to think I would make an adorable hobbit.

And above all, I would love to be able to eat up to six meals a day, if I could.

Being a hobbit would be an ultimate dream come true.

(PS-Will somebody please feed me?)

My Secret Dream

Is that somehow, someday, Kel Mitchell will be on SNL for 5 minutes, and he and Kenan can perform the good ol' "Good Burger" sketch.

And mainly because I want to see Kenan and Kel together again, best friends separated by fame and time.

It will be glorious, and I will die happily.

There have been many viral campaigns that actually ended up coming true, such as the whole "Get Betty White on SNL" attempt that was around a year or two ago, WHICH ACTUALLY WORKED.

Betty White is old, and you know what else is? Kenan and Kel. Also, All That.

If Betty White can be on SNL, then why can't Kel Mitchell?

So go on, my internet friends and amigos. Spread the magic so that my dream can come true.

I just ingested 20 pixy stix and saw God.

I just ingested 20 pixy stix, 16 of which were cherry because my friend does not like cherry pixy stix. She one snorted an entire line of them for 20 dollars, though, so I don't blame her for not liking them anymore.

Anyways, I didn't set out to see God. I don't think anybody really has that sort of mentality or goal. What a weird goal, right? "Oh, I wonder if I eat enough of [food], I will talk to God, or become Lady Gaga." One of which is impossible. The other actually happened. I saw God a few minutes after I ate the last stick of magic. I was walking home at the time, in the dark. The streets got quiet. My footsteps slowed down to a steady trot. The lights in the houses started to dim. It was a typical Saturday Night. When I turned the corner to my house, God was sitting on my front porch, on the 14th step. Just chilling.

"Hello, Amber." God said, his voice deep and smooth against my ears.

"Hello, God." My voice deep and low against the cool wind. "So what brings you to this little side of the world?"

"We need to talk."

"Um, OK!" I said brightly. If God wants to talk, you better damn well listen to every word he has to say.

"As you know, today is the 21st." He stood up and started to walk down my stairs towards me, His long white beard blowing in the faint breeze. He stopped when he was about a foot from me. He was a lot shorter than I imagined, mainly because I imagined him to be a giant cloud. Or a dragon. But he was only a couple of inches taller than me. And he was a man, as far as I could tell. I couldn't bring myself to look at his face just yet, because I was afraid of turning into stone. And who wants to be a statue for your entire life? I looked around, just to make sure nobody else was watching this meeting go down. And to give myself something else to look at besides Him.

"Yes, I know that today was the 21st. Aren't you supposed to be up... there... to sort through those who have been raptured, and all that?" I asked innocently.

God laughed a hearty, booming laugh that filled the sky with lightning and thunder.

"You actually believed that the rapture was today? Oh me, who told you that?"

"Well, there was this one crazy religious guy-"

"My child, you have to be more specific than that. The world is full of crazy religious people."

"Well, then. Why do you allow that?"

God paused, and took a deep breath. A cool breeze rustled the leaves in the trees. All was silent.

"Because- You know how there are people out there that... fancy you? And you want nothing to do with them because they are creepy and slightly off? And you are too polite to actually tell them to Fuck off, but you know that they are going to the special part of the psych ward anyways when they die?"

"Um, I think you lost me."

God sighed again. "This isn't why I am down here. I need to ask you to do a favor." He placed his hand on my shoulder. It was warm, strong, and terrifying.

"Oh, no. I am not falling for that one, Mr. God-"

"God is fine."

"OK, God. Anyways, I am not falling for that one again, because I don't want to lead any revolutions, because I know how all of THOSE end."

"No, that is not the reason I am here. Not now, anyways. You are not old enough. Anyways, I was wondering if I could borrow your Wii. I broke mine."

"What the hell, God. You want to borrow my Wii? Why can't you fix your own?"

"Because the pixy stix are wearing off, my child. But until the next time..." I looked at him this time, because I knew I wouldn't have a chance to see him again any time in the near future. His eyes were brown, and his face was white and pale. Before I knew it, he blended in with the sky, and I woke up on the front lawn because the sprinklers turned off. I walked inside, but not before taking another look at the moon. The wind blew, and I ran inside. I knew that I would be seeing Him again someday, maybe sooner, maybe later. But eating pixy stix would not be the way to go about that.

The Moral of this story: Pixy Stix. Not even once. Also, never let God borrow your Wii, because you will probably never see it again. And I was just getting the hang of Twilight Princess.

Dial M for Megaladon (Ch. 12)

"Today is the day."

"Wha..?" Megaladon grumbled. She was never very good at waking up early. At least, she figured it was early. She didn't really know at this point anymore, being stuck in an ice cave since December makes it kind of hard to figure out the difference between the morning and the night. No matter what time it was, Megaladon was groggy and tired.

The crew of renegades have been busy training themselves, along with other members of the galaxy who wanted a change. Their crew grew to quite an astounding number, at least 300 or so. But was this going to be enough? Nobody knew the exact number of the zombie crew, and there were thousands of others in hiding as well, who didn't really want to get involved in the battle if death was going to be involved. But they sent their wishes for the best with interstellar fruit baskets, which was good enough for them. This meant that they didn't need to worry about their meals while they were underground. Which only added to the confusion as to what time it was. Fruit for every meal defeats the purpose of Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner, and every small meal in between. But they were busy raising and breeding the illegal pokemon to create the ultimate fighting team, so that was enough.

"Today is the day." M Cassie repeated again, her rosy face poking out of her heavy parka.

"The Lady is going to rise today." she said, her eyes twinkling.

"How..." Megaladon replied, still half asleep.

"How do I know? Well, do you miss the sun?"

"Well, yea-"

"Then it is time." M Cassie stood up, and walked to the other tents in the cave, waking up the rest of the renegades. Megaladon took a moment to compose herself, before she finally got up and out of the tent. She breathed a heavy sigh, before releasing her Magikarp and called over Cornelius.

"You two... I just want to say how proud I am of you two. I know that we have had some problems in the past, but that I-" She sniffed, and held back a sob.

"S'allright, my friend. You don't have to say a word." Cornelius said, and nuzzled her a bit.

Megaladon smiled.

"You are all right." She brushed back Cornelius's hair, and gave him an apple to munch on, before walking away to compose herself, as Chester slowly walked up towards her.

To say that there was something between the two of them was a complicated subject. They tried to hide their feelings somewhat, but you could still cut the sexual tension between the two of them with a chainsaw. But they still tried to keep to themselves, so as not to create any further sexual tension. This, of course, is the absolute opposite thing that one should do if they are in love with somebody. The feelings will only multiply profusely until everybody know what is going on between the two of you.

"So, this migh' be it, Little lady" Chester said grimmly.

"From what I have heard, yes. But I can't continue living like this! In an ice cave! Underground! I haven't had bacon in months, and this ends now!"

Chester laughed.

"What Why are you laughing? Do you not know of the imminent danger we are about to face? We might die, and you are laughing!"

Chester stopped, and tried to get a word in edgewise, but Megaladon wouldn't allow it.

"I will not stand for this. I am going to live free, or die hard. I am going to set a great example for every small ninja pokemon warrior girl out there who is afraid to show her feelings! I will-"

Chester didn't say anything, but his lips certainly were trying to. Or so Megaladon thought, because that is what they felt like on her own lips. She tried to protest, but instead contributed to the strange language of the kiss by reciprocating her own message to him. One that said 'I love you, but...'

"I can't." She pulled away, looked at him deeply in the eyes, and walked away before her feelings got the better of her again. She couldn't do this to her friend, Ninja Edwards, she couldn't! And she wouldn't allow herself to become attached to somebody of he or she were going to die, possible. Chester was right behind her, trying to talk some sense into her.

"I can't Don't you see? We can't do this, it will only cause problems for us later on down the road." Megaladon firmly stated.

"But-But wouldn' you rather be together now, than wonder wha' it could've been? I know you're afraid, an' I know that this is complicated, to be hones', but isn' this easier than tryin' to deny it 'll? Besides, all we have is now." Chester looked her deep into the eyes, and she kissed him, squarely on the forehead.

"Not now. Maybe after all of this is over, but not now." She looked at him with determination burning in her eyes. "We have a war to win."