Dude. Bunny.

(Brace yourself. This will probably offend someone.)

So, I was wandering around Walmart with my sister recently and we happened upon the Easter aisle. You know the one. It's packed with Reese eggs (love those), jumbo Reese eggs (love those even more), Peeps, jelly beans, Easter grass (dogs love that) and the CHOCOLATE BUNNY (this is more effective if you imagine it being announced in an echoey voice.)

The bunny. It is essential to any young, hyper, chocolate loving child's Easter basket (mine too, but that is not the point.)

First and foremost it's amazing that those who aren't religious celebrate Easter at all. I mean do parents realize that the Easter bunny and eggs both symbolize fertility? I mean essentially we are encouraging children to make babies, awkward. Also awkward, in most children's farm animal books, chickens and bunnies seem to get along. BUT for some reason the Easter bunny can steal chicken eggs and give them to children? What? Isn't that...creepy?

Ok, ok, I'm off track. Back to Walmart.

In the Easter aisle I discovered Dude Bunny. Oh yes my friend, chocolate bunnies are not only egg stealers, they are thugs. Dude Bunny is equipped with a winter cap pulled over his ears, white chocolate bling dangling from his neck, and baggy pants drooping at his little bunny paws. Offensive? Not until you acknowledge that Dude Bunny is milk chocolate. Racist? Yes. But, good news, it doesn't stop there. Diva Bunny is here to save the day. Diva Bunny, besides having a nice figure, is sporting a candy necklace and trendy outfit considering it's carved into chocolate.

I must admit it took me a few solid minutes to stop laughing everywhere. The sheer absurdity of these bunnies was overwhelming and I have so many questions and judgements to cast on  people who buy these things!

Oh well, what can you do? Me? I asked my parents to get me one for Easter...

Swank Tank

Oh the joys of childhood. Birthdays are much sweeter with goody bags, sleep overs, screaming middle schoolers running around hopped up on ice cream cake, cheetos and soda. *sigh* Oh those were the days..

This weekend my boyfriend and I ventured to Cleveland for a spontaneous visit. (Or so we thought.) Amid our intellectual banter on the journey there, we had a conversation that went a little like this... (actually, this is exactly how it went.)

Me- Isn't your little sister's birthday coming up?
Him- Yeeeeeah. It's at the end of February.
Me- What day?
Him- Hmmm...the 20th?
Me- That's this weekend!
Him- Oh...oooooh.
(This is when it all clicked. It seems his mom mentioned going to the grandparents for cake and ice cream. Unfortunately two post grads visiting northern Ohio isn't occasion enough for cupcakes and neapolitan ice cream...who knew?)

Upon this discovery, I realized we did not have a gift for his little sister's 12th birthday (which if you're me, is a huge problem). So, obviously I start suggesting things that a 12 year old (and I) would like. Glittery clothes, Bieber poster, etc. Then I realized getting her a pet was an excellent idea.

Seeing as the festivities weren't until Sunday, we had plenty of time to come up with a brilliant birthday gift. Saturday my boyfriend, his mom and I headed to the pet store to get his sister her very first fish. No big deal, right? WRONG.

It's all about presentation. I'm not sure how familiar you are with the fish world these days, but it's fierce. There are salt water, fresh water, tropical, not tropical, big, little, mean, lazy...the list goes on.

 While I bounced around the pet store like a pinball in a machine, my cool and collected counter part discovered what we soon found out to be the COOLEST FISH TANK EVER. (imagine a booming voice here and it adds to the affect.)

Picture this: LED light, neon gravel and neon colored fake plants AND the best part, neon fish! (It turns out, certain tropical fish glow when exposed to an LED light.) After buying all the items needed to pimp our tank, we selected five Neon Tetra to be the lucky new inhabitants of the swank tank.

A few hours later, after meticulously arranging the gravel (black and neon flecks for affect), putting in the different orange, green and pink plants and installing the disco ball (not really, but it would've been awesome), it was time for the critters to enjoy their new home.

Keep in mind, all of this was done in secret so the little one wouldn't know until Sunday morning. I gingerly released the tetra into their new home. They darted all around and looked like they were saying things like "groovy" or "totally wicked." These fish were hippies is what I'm getting at.

We go to bed, pleased at our brilliance and anticipating the next morning when we would unveil our marvelous creation. Bright and early (more like 11 am) his sister arose and opened the gifts from the rest of the family. It was our turn and pleased with ourselves we took her to the tank to watch her reaction to the best birthday gift ever.

We all huddled around the tank and there was...one fish, two fish, three fish, four fish, five fish...dead fish. All five. Dead. Happy Birthday?

There's no I in team.. But there is an I in "I hate this team"

Generally, I make it a rule to be open to personal criticism so I can grow as a person. Bahahahaha, clearly that's a lie, but I thought it'd be fun to say. Mission accomplished. 

Moving on... Recently, it was brought to my attention that I am not encouraging enough to other people. Apparently telling people they're a moron isn't considered constructive encouragement (who knew?). So, I've taken it upon myself in recent weeks (ok, just last week) to be more inspirational to people. I'm pretty much a poster child for enthusiasm.

However, it turns out that a sarcastic ass like myself begins a project with semi good intentions and half way through realizes it was a huge mistake. I'm convinced that anyone interacting with me on a daily basis may notice me giggling and talking to myself (more than usual). 

Why? Well, here's the situation... I find myself mentally cheering for people now.

Example. Two people are walking into a building. Person 1 is about 6 paces ahead of person 2. Person 1 hits the handicap button (because this person is clearly too lazy to actually pull the door open) to enter. Person 2 scurries forward to try to get inside the door before the time expires and the door swings closed. And there I am watching it all thinking "You better hurry. Go now...now! You can make it, run! Faster! Good work! Well done." I mean come on... I'm cheering for laziness.

I also have this uncontrollable urge to tell people they're doing a good job. Don't get me wrong, I believe in giving credit when it is due, but when someone pushes the button in the elevator telling them "Good job!" only gets you an eye roll (trust me). 

And it turns out, motivating the bagger at the grocery store by telling them they're doing excellent work isn't really a good way to make friends. 

I went as far as to tell the pharmacist at CVS she was my hero after filling my prescription (true story).

BUT the kicker? Lately my right windshield wiper has been slower and less motivated than my left one. Driving home in the snow the other day, I kept going "Come on! Wipe! Doooo it! You can do it! Go go go!"  Result? It stopped working completely.