Tuesday, March 23, 2010


AB and I have taken to spending our evenings watching marathons of Full House. Just so you know, Teen Nick runs four back-to-back episodes of this culturally cataclysmic television show every night starting at 8:00 p.m. Join us, won't you? Not only will you get a heaping dose of Tanner family love, but you will get to see every acne wash/pimple cream/face cleansing/zit busting commercial that has ever been produced--repeatedly. Teen Nick apparently knows something about teen culture that we don't...all teens care about is their complexion, and by showing the exact same set of commercials during every commercial break, you will eventually wear them down.

So, we love Full House. We learn valuable lessons, AB gets to make four cracks a night (I've limited him to one per episode) about Jodie Sweetin's meth addiction, and we have a hearty chuckle as Uncle Jesse's hair care jokes never cease to be hysterical. But there is one piece of the happy family puzzle that just doesn't fit in.


What the fuck is this guy doing there??? I mean, I understand that when the mysterious Mrs. Tanner died, he moved in to help out his bestie, Danny. Sure. Makes sense. But he NEVER LEFT. I mean, by the end of the series, he's got to be in his early to mid thirties, and he is still just kind of leeching off of the Tanners, with absolutely no family or friends of his own. In all the years that the show ran, he never got his own girlfriend. I can count on one hand the number of Joey-centric episodes that ran. It has never appeared that he has any life outside of the Tanners. He somehow managed to get his own television show, which leads me to believe that he was making decent money, but he remained content to live in the basement (and in later episodes, a small bedroom) in this already overcrowded home.

Does he even have his own car? Is he paying Danny rent of any kind? Other than doing the occasional Bullwinkle impression, what contribution is he making to this family? This family that doesn't belong to him. At what point does Danny finally say, "Listen friend-o, it's been a nice run, but people are starting to talk." Doesn't he feel awkward at all? Like you know when you were little and you went on vacation with your best friend's family? Yeah, it was fun and all, but you were never really PART of the family, and it was always kind of relief to get back to your own house with your own food, and not that weird food that your friend's mom made.

I mean, really, Joey. Cut. It. Out.

Friday, March 19, 2010


Well, I'm afraid I might have grown up. Or just got boring, but since I find myself to be the most interesting person I know, and I know this must be accurate since I also find myself to be an excellent judge of character, I doubt that's the case. I imagine it's much more likely that the years have caught up with me. Damn you, Time! Peter Pan would NOT find this acceptable, and he would probably mock me and send his shadow after me. I, however, am smarter than Peter Pan, and would just turn out the lights and tell him I killed his shadow. I might have grown up, but I can still be a bitch.

The Evidence:
1. I just don't feel like going out anymore. I mean, sometimes, like if I'm in Vegas or somewhere else that's actually conducive to my very high going-out standards, I'll do it. However, it should be noted that I was recently in Las Vegas for three nights...one of those nights was spent partying the sh*t out of Blush and drinking $600 champagne until 3am. The other two nights, I was happily tucked into my Bellagio bed before eleven. I digress...but I really don't feel as though getting trashed on the weekends is a productive expenditure of my time. My tummy hates it the next morning, and let's face it--it's just empty calories. Also, my decision-making skills are not awesome while intoxicated. But if I had the choice between going out to a bar with a group of friends and sitting on my couch, cuddling with Hamlet and AB and watching Full House--you guessed it. The Tanner family's shenanigans would be getting my attention. Turns out I actually don't need to be drunk to be entertaining. Who knew.

2. When people text me past 10:00 at night, I am (a) usually in bed, and (b) wonder what on earth these people are thinking with their middle of the night crises.

3. My tax return is going for two things: saving for grad school loans, and taking a fantabulous vacation with AB to a tropical location this summer. Anything left over will be spent on a Bissel SpotBot. I'm really excited about it. It's like the Michael Phelps of carpet cleaners!! Minus the giant ears and the pot.

4. Things that frequently excite me: making lists, going to the gym, planning vacations, going to bed early, cleaning, and drinking organic skim milk out of a martini glass.

5. Purchasing a house seems like a reasonable thing to do in the next year or two. Um, really? I always swore I would rent forever because I didn't like the idea of having to fix my own appliances or take care of my own lawn. I still don't like those things. However, this just in: boyfriends are good at that.

I feel like the mounting evidence speaks for itself. But the most compelling argument that I am probably an official grown up...

6. I actually don't mind it. It's nice having money to do stuff. It's kind of fun to not deal with hangovers, and to plan exotic vacations, to get enough sleep, to fall asleep and wake up to the same fantastical person every morning, to have positive and healthy friends, and to feel secure in myself. One of my students called me her Carrie Bradshaw for life. As long as she means that I am awesome, and not that I have a horse-face, that's kind of ok.

So, I expect that I will soon be receiving my "Grown-Up" card in the mail, along with a detailed instruction manual. My parents, by the way, used to insist that their reasoning behind many of their parenting decisions simply came from the "Parenting Instruction Manual." I can not WAIT to get a copy of that, because I can't even keep plants alive, so I'm hoping there are some good ideas on how to maintain a child.