Publisher's Clearinghouse

What has my life come to? I just sat at my desk for 30 minutes putting little stamps on the Albertson's Monopoly Gameboard, hoping to win $500,000 or a new car or free groceries or a cruise. But a person can only do so much paperwork in one stretch and I'd just bought Yoplait Yogurt (a qualifying item for extra gamepieces-- try the Lite Cherry Cobbler flavor, it's FANTASTIC), and who wouldn't want to win even $2? I feel a little bad, though. I haven't gotten to the point where I sit and fantasize about Ed McMahon coming to my door with an oversized check (does he even do that anymore?), but I could see it happening, and fast. A girl needs a dream, right?
There's so much sorrow in the world. I read the newspaper this morning, and President Obama is trying to restore good relations with Russia. Well, that's cool, but he's doing it at the expense of our relationship with Poland, and that depresses me, because they've stuck with us through thick and thin. I'd not be at all surprised if they came in and saved us from something or other, because that's what they do. Anyone remember the battle of Vienna and Jan Sobieski? Yeah, I didn't think so. Add that to the oppression. Add that to my sorrow.
And that's only the beginning of my troubles. This weekend I tried to be supportive of a little girl I have a "big sister crush" on (that is, I think she's the bomb, and I wish she were my younger sister-- not to replace Ashley, but to tack on another sibling). Little Sis treated me like a big sis, though, and wouldn't talk to me. I was sad.
Also sad-- I had a dream that my friend Kris Felix was a ride operator at Disneyland and could get me to the front of any line and showed me how there were secret levels in the Alice in Wonderland ride (which I personally like way better than the Teacups). I woke up disappointed. An old boyfriend who I'd not heard from in ages called me up trying to sell me Cutco knives... as if! I hate, hate, hate multi-level marketing, and I like my Calphalon knives from T.J. Maxx, thank you very much. Plus also, remember when he told me that I had a great personality and it was too bad I'm not physically attractive? Well, I've got news for you buddy: I'm not the girl you want to have around a bunch of knives. And ok, I'd never be violent, but I might have to slit my own wrists listening to his stupidity. Blech.
I can't even happily exist in boy-fantasy world anymore. Yesterday I sat between two boys I'm mildly interested in, and noticed that they both cross their legs like women. That's it. Cross them off the list.
Do you see why I find happiness in collecting game pieces from grocery stores?
By way of an update, the concert I went to on Friday night was excellent, but the comedians told base, off-color jokes meant to appeal to the lowest common denominator. I was appalled at the lack of talent required to receive an endorsement from Second City. Boo to the Pajama Men, but major props to Le Chat Lunatique. I am their newest groupie. Ah, a silver lining. Go see these guys-- I'm serious! If I were rich, I'd hire them for my wedding someday.
And ok, maybe there are a few other nice things leaving me feeling fulfilled. I walked into Anthropologie the other day and thought, "This stuff is cool. It reminds me of my house." Always a good thing to think that a chain store has caught YOUR vision and not the other way around.
I'm also pleased that Daylight Savings Time is here. I know, I'm probably the only person in the world who actually likes losing an hour, but longer days means more energy, more time to get work done, and more time to party.
Another fulfilling element of my life? My gal-pals. This weekend was heavy on the girl-time, and it was refreshing. Concert with high school friend of yore+joint bridal luncheon complete with the game "Two Truths and A Lie" (which exposed my late kissing fandango) + girls night out with all things ladies love (visiting a friend's new baby, a craft store and Flying Star all in one evening) = respite from the Y Chromosomes plaguing my life (and crossing their legs).
So I guess I don't really need the grocery games after all, but hey! No one will make fun when I win that trip to Bermuda.