Bored & (sometimes) Witty

I have recently begun receiving the word of the day from Urban Dictionary.

This is hilarious for many reasons. For starters, I enjoy learning things like blue tool.
According to Urban Dictionary, a blue tool is:
a person who uses their blue tooth headset when unnecessary, or leaves attached in ear when not having a conversation.

Example- person 1: do you see that blue tool over there, the one sitting down, not doing anything but still using their headset?

Or, the definition of conswervative (because you always wanted to know):
A conservative politician or other public figure caught doing things that he has denounced on record.

But mostly if reminds me of the time I taught my dad use of the term “BOGO” as in Buy One Get One. We were out shopping for something, possibly Christmas presents, and I think I stopped to buy shoes at Nine West. As any good shoe shopper would know, Nine West frequently has a “buy one, get one half-off” deal. This particular day was no different so I went in and bought myself a pair of shoes and then selected another chic style at equal or lesser value. When my father, the banker, asked why I was buying two pairs of shoes and did I really need two pairs of shows, I think he was really questioning why I was buying myself Christmas presents, I looked at him blankly and said, “But Dad. It’s BOGO.”

He didn’t get it. I tried to explain it but he got it confused with a twofer. Alas. But my urban dictionary word of the day got me thinking about all the words out there that are not used nearly enough for my liking. An assortment of those words are as follows:

-Fresh: as in “that’s fresh” like the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. *Bonus points for using the phrase “funky fresh.”

-Sounds major: sarcastic repsonse for something that sounds not the least bit exciting.
Example:
“you don’t have to dance. You could just stand there with me and my dudes and be you.”
“Sounds major.” 

-Tom Foolery: unruly and often hilarious but troublesome fun. 
Example: When Megan the Great and I hang out, El Jefe wants to know what kind of Tom Foolery we have been up to.

-Shananagans: Refer to above. This one is just fun to say.

-Paddyfingers: similar to footsies only funnier. Example: “Do you think you’re the only one who has tried to lure me into the moonlight to play paddyfingers?”

-So fresh and so clean clean: what someone would be after they shower

-Swoggled: straight drunk

This list will inevitably grow and please feel free to use these around me at any given time.

I went online tonight to kill time before I go to Taqueria…a place that is slowly becoming one in which I can say “I’ll have the usual.” Hey, I’m a creature of habit, sue me.

And I saw the headline entitled, “Party for One” and I originally clicked it because I’m still kinda in my cheffy mode and I thought I would be scoring lots of recipes for suited for one person doing the eating. Instead, I find out there is a week celebrating people who cook for one.

You’ve got to be joking.

A whole week dedicated to being single. How about that. So I have decided that being that I fall into said category and am unattached, I should be able to use this week as one might use a birthday. Any damn way I want.

Now is my chance to celebrate my ability to watch 16 Candles over and over and wail “where oh where is my Jake Ryan” without being considered (completely) insane. I can eat chocolate pudding and practice living with 18 cats despite the fact that I’m horribly allergic while being in a bathrobe, probably the same one I have been wearing for 5 days straight.

This is my week for cooking great dinners–delicious homemade meals–and having the same thing for leftovers for a week. Like perhaps, the chicken I made last week. Which served as lunch and dinner for at least 4 days in a row. I can sit and watch Lifetime ever-so-innocently and think to myself, “self, that Markie Post did one heck of a job portraying the abused wife who was forced to kill her husband in self-defense then defend herself when charged with his murder.”

I can take the time to recount the fun bar scenes I have experienced. Like the one particularly stellar evening, which happens to be the now-infamous St. Patrick’s Day in San Francisco, when I was having some drinks at an Irish pub, doing great. I walked up to the bar in a wide open section of the bar and was patiently waiting to get the bartender’s attention, when out of nowhere, this very mean, nasty man who was most certainly not Irish and who also looked old enough to be my father, looks over at me, and says, “You know, you’re REALLY not that good looking.” I look at him with a where the hell do you get off expression and say “Excuse me?” And he says, “Yea, you’re really not that good looking,” very matter of factly.

Yes. Happy freakin’ singles week indeed.