Can You Resist?

I, being a almost strict-ish vegetarian who still likes the taste of meat, hate fast food commercials just as every woman has since the dawn of time. They usually feature a thin woman enjoying her Micky-dees. I'm sure, among the male population, this advertising is wildly effective. The business model is that you should tempt the heck out of your audience. When I glanced over at discarded box of Mcnuggets that was tossed on the side of the road I was faced with temptation worthy of the devil. In the McDonalds yellow they pass for gold "can you resist?" was making it's evil way from the cardboard to my hungry eyes. I'm now going to steal something that Heather Cherry does often on her blog and write an open letter.

Mcnuggets Have a website, complete with a pledge to eat them. A pledge?

Dear Chicken Mcnuggets,

Yes, I can resist. Do I want to? No.

Who named you a.nyway... Mcnugget? Nugget was an unattractive word by itself but then someone had to add the infamous "mc" to it to make it even more unattractive, but almost appetizing.

I don't get why you ask me if I can resist. If someone already bought the darn thing and that would be the only reason for having to look at the box why would you advertise it to them? They can't resist- that's why they bought it.

Why do you have to tempt people to steal their friend's already purchased Mcnuggets? What do you gain from it? Do you target innocent vegetarians like me who are still learning to resist? Do you plan on irresponsible people tossing their discarded boxes on the side of the road... is that your business model?

Mcnugget, my only explanation is you find gratification in my pain.

Mcnugget, you just keep on lovein' it" while you can!

Your mortal enemy,

P.S.

PS, I'm certainly not "lovein' it"!

Just Not My Day

I was walking Lily, trying to get her to poop in our yard instead of the neighbors before going around the block, when I tripped. I was just walking down the street and I tripped, without a witness, I just fell. One of those "Glad no one saw that" moments. Of course, everyone only has so many of these moments, and all of mine are spent on other random spastic moments of uncoordination, so while I was laying on the border of my and my neighbors yard, a truck, redneck included, drove by, of course, because of some reason beyond me, Lily had to poop, right there, right on the obviously distinguishable property line just enough on the neighbor's side to be considered their yard. Of course I forgot a pickup bag. Today wasn't exactly my day.

Imagine what it would look like to redneck. I was just driving by on my way to (insert redneck-like destination here) when I saw this girl about your (he says gesturing to Mary Loo aged about 12) age sniffn' the grass. She was laying out like roadkill on somebody's lawn. I can imagine the story at many family gatherings to come...*shutter*

Redneck stopped and asked if I was ok, making a theatrical effort to muffle his laugh. I managed to stutter out a "yeah, I'm fine". Of course Lily was still making quite a show still pooping, right in the neighbor's yard

I thought only characters in books and movies randomly fell without any reason. I've never seen a person just fall. Due to my knees which are apparently plotting against me, I could not get up. To any witness that may show up in the next few seconds of immobility it would seem like I was deliberately on the freshly dewed and damped grass face down. Of course, my knees waited untill several unconcered minivanners drove by to finaly relive me of my embaresment.

Today's just not my day.

Cheese Please!

I haven't had cheese pizza after waiting in a line full of my own age group since I turned old enough to say "no, you can go right ahead". I hopefully wait in the back of the line with other vegetarians and some Jewish people on kosher diets. We chat, conspiring against the mass of cheese pizza hogging 7th graders, but, because we are the type of people who end up in the back of the line, no action ever comes of it. Our stomachs growl in unison, trying to provoke us into cutting. We all stand in a horizontal line in the back, no one in front or behind the other; an assembled mass of vegetarianism and mutted cries for cheese.

When we finally come to the front we hopefully peer into the buffet and then, finding no cheese, we move quitely along. We weren't even in line. Don't mind us.

Somehow we collect enough courage to confront the lunch lady who's expression was screaming "Don't make my job difficult!"

Us: "is there any cheese left?"

Lunch Lady: No.

Us: Will you be making anymore today?

Lunch Lady: No

Us: is there anything vegetarian?

Lunch Lady: You can pick off the sausage.

We all leave. We know that it leaves a taste and defeats the purpose. So we graze on the chips they sell.

I don't understand why the cafeteria even makes any sausage; everyone hates it. The pizza line concept makes no sense. The type of people who are vegetarians are usually the type that will let a hungry meat-eaters in front to take the coveted cheese pizza.

"No it's okay you can go right ahead"... ugh, curse my lack of assertiveness!

Anti-controversy-post-posting-note:

I have nothing against meat eaters, I apologize if I offended anyone. I'm a vegetarian for good reasons that I know thoroughly but I do not think meat-eaters are any worse than vegetarians. My vegetarianism was a personal decision so please do not judge me for it.

A Laugh With A Job

Part of my morning get-the-heck-out-of-bed routine involves the daily hunt for the comics. It is sometimes interesting to see what random place they've put them today. Some mornings it's nestled in between the depressing international news and the less depressing but still depressing local news, others it's wedged in between sports and entertainment.

This morning they were finally found in the classified section.They weren't just next to the classifieds, they were in the middle.Who decided to put them there? They must have a wild sense of humor. What is this person saying? If you have enough time to read the comics in this economy you should stop being lazy and get off you're butt and find a job.

Thank goodness for child labor laws. I have an excuse to read the comics, the rest is depressing and I'm only a kid.

I wonder if the organizer for our ever-thinning local paper enjoys his job. Maybe he reads the comics every morning and wants to find them where he could find a new job that does not require getting up early just so Bob can have his sports pages in order when he gets up.

Maybe the organizer guy/girl has an unemployed spouse or roomie and wanted to organize a message just for them.

I'm still not liking this guy.

Comics are so pure and innocent; an escape from the bad news that is printed on every other page. Why would someone spoil them with reality?

Maybe the paper organizer meant well, to give unemployed job-seeking people a break- to relax and read the funnies for a bit, but that is forcing the loyal comics reader to fish through pages where job opportunities usually are.

Yet another morning, the glass of O.J. is half empty.

Jersey Girl

My parents lived in Europe. Not just an overnight stay they lived there. While living there they had my older sister; who got to be born there. After having the exotic first born in Holland they moved back to the U.S. just to have me, the lesser second child.

They knew that I wasn't going to be as good of a child so they had to flee to New Jersey to have me so that I can be eternally punished for being born after my sister. Only cool babies are born abroad. That's right,I was born in New Jersey the famous "Garden State" that every one hears so much about. I have nothing personal against New Jersey I'm sure it is a fine state, but what type of parents let such a thing happen?

My sister's name is Holland, just to make it better. My mother claims it is a family name and that is the only reason for the name but I doubt it. I'm constantly reminded "Your sister was born in Holland" from every name tag she wears. I can be thankful that they didn't name me Jersey but it doesn't console the annoyance.

On her passport "The Netherlands" is printed under "Place of birth". She gets to say she was born in Holland. Who would not resent my birthplace in my situation?

As stated in my mother's blog on the same subject, I do believe they did it on purpose. I was not worthy of a foreign country; I was the second born.