Sunday, December 28, 2008

Things I Learned in 2008

Some things I've learned this year:

- This summer, I learned the unexpected greatness of Sunday nights. Sunday nights are perfect for having a great night out because you aren't looking for it; you've already had your weekend fun on Friday and Saturday, so Sunday is like a bonus. In fact, some of my favorite times from 2008 happened on Sunday nights, because it was just a few of us out and nobody was being dramatic and everybody was relaxed from their weekend.

Every Sunday night was fun, until Labor Day. The night before Labor Day, we went to the Hong Kong Cafe. We ordered a bunch of appetizers and had literally 30 scorpion bowls... for about 14 people. This was a good idea at the time, but the ramifications were absolutely horrific. I've never been sicker in my life. The next day, Labor Day, I had promised my sister I'd help her move into her new apartment. My mom and brother were already there. By the time I dragged my sorry ass over to her place, I'd already gotten a few cringes from the guys behind the Starbucks and 7-11 counters. I was gnawing on a Twizzler when my mother saw me. I didn't say anything to her. I just asked my sister what she needed help with. After a few unsuccessful attempts at unpacking and organizing her dresser, I ignored her and decided that making her bed was a better idea. I made it and then I got in it. My mom took over the other jobs and just shook her head as she walked around me, mumbling something about her pathetic 25-year-old daughter.

I learned a few lessons that day. I still maintain that Sunday nights are fun. But I've yet to have another scorpion bowl. While those aren't out for good, I'm never going back to the Hong Kong. Ever. I just don't have the guts (probably literally) to go through another experience like that, or to face my mom that hungover ever again.

One other thing I always think of with that story is this little kid at the Hong Kong. I'll never see him again, because I'm never going there, but I bet he never wants to see any of us again. Some of the goons I was with persuaded the owner to stay open just for us, because we kept ordering more and more drinks. By the end of it, everyone was best buddies and the little kid, probably about seven, was getting all hyper and friendly and playing around with the guys. He was having a grand time, high-fiving and making stupid faces at everyone. Then, on the way out, one of the guys picked the kid up, swung him upside down, and held him there for a few seconds. That changed everything. This poor kid probably had never seen someone as tall as this guy, and here he was, upside down, looking at probably the top of his dad's head. Suddenly, he started wailing and then we had to leave. My point is, I often think that our night was like that kid's: it's all fun in games until you get flipped upside down and sick to your stomach. I bet he's still scared of tall people. I won't find out though, cause I'm not going back.

This is actually the second Chinese restaurant I've had to ban myself from, now that I think about it. I can't name the other place because now I know the owners, so that would be very awkward. A few years back, actually, I was somewhere and everyone ordered that for a huge function. I wouldn't eat it. Everyone was going on and on about how great the food was and how nuts I was. But I stuck to my guns. Good thing. The next day, everyone was sick. Except me.

I wish I'd been that smart at the Hong Kong. I bet my mom wishes the same thing. I'd never advise being hungover in front of any mother, but my mom is definitely bad to be hungover in front of. She basically made me into a cautionary tale for my brother and sister. She probably pulled in my sister's roommates to have a good look at me, just to scare them into sobriety.

- I also learned a lot about not having a job. I went through a job search two years ago and I was absolutely miserable. I tried to keep that in mind this time and not complain about not having a job. So, every time people asked me about the job search, I'd just say it was fine and I was sure I'd find something. And while there were times (okay, many times) when I was probably less than cheery about it, I really tried to be mindful not to bring it up or to share how horrible it was going. Apparently though, I was the only one trying to do this. Nobody else seemed to mind talking about it.

The only thing worse than not having a job is talking to people about not having a job. I talked to so many people about not having a job. It's tough because everyone showed an interest in my job search, but nobody had any solutions. Actually, that's not true. Everyone had a solution, but what nobody understood is that to someone without a job, there is only one truly helpful solution: an actual job. Here's a Take-Away Point for everyone: Unless you are offering someone actual full-time employment with benefits, change the subject and pick up the tab. Here's my Take-Away Point for 2009: Next time someone gives me advice about finding a job, I'm going to ask them about the last time they had to find one. We'll see what they have to say then.

- There are a lot of wedding shows on television. You can watch wedding planning shows. You can watch shows where brides pick out their perfect dresses. You can watch travel weddings or Platinum Weddings, where you see people pay one million dollars for a lighting expert to illuminate the dance floors and walls with an illegible monogram of the couple's initials. However, the best wedding show for entertainment is "Bridezillas." "Bridezillas" is the Jerry Springer of wedding shows. You can usually count on a certifiable bride and white-trash family. I think my favorite moment of the year was when one groom's mother was so upset about the wedding that she left the church before the ceremony, went out to the parking lot, became outraged when she saw that nobody had brought beer to the ceremony with them, and then made her cousin go get some from the local liquor store. This woman pretty much set up a Blue Ribbon tailgate in the parking lot. Of the church where her kid was about to get married. Maybe I'm cynical, but that's my favorite TV wedding moment of 2008.

The other thing I've learned from watching this show is that you can get sucked in really easily, because they show them in marathons, just like every other network. Everyone is going marathon crazy. Turn on the TV, and I guarantee that you will find half of your channels are showing marathons of some shitty show that nobody liked the first time around, so they're going to hype it up with a half day marathon every weekend until you cave in and watch it and get addicted. MTV is a master at this and they put the worst shows on their marathons. My prime TV watching time is weekend mornings, and I can never find anything on. The flipside of this marathon problem is that if you find a show you like, you're offline for hours. I've turned on "Bridezillas" and six hours later, I'm still sitting next to my bowl of oatmeal wondering whether my day is the only marathon casualty or if the bowl's dead too. I don't even bother thinking about my brain.

- Don't take on too much at once. A few months ago, I needed new toothpaste so I went to CVS. Then, I saw that they had a new whitening toothpaste so I took a look at that. Then, I saw that they actually had those Whitestrips on sale, so I took a closer look at that. This pattern went on throughout the store, aisle to aisle. Twenty minutes after getting there, my little toothpaste excursion cost me $50.

But that wasn't the worst of it. A few days after my purchases, I stood in my room totally overwhelmed with a whitestrip sticking to my thumb instead of my front teeth. I was like a human renovation project. I felt like a homeowner who had gone to Home Depot to get a light switch and had left with an entire new light fixture and plans to redo her entire dining room or something. You can explain to guests who come over for dinner that they need to pardon the mess because they're in the middle of hellish renovations but they're looking forward to their new light and dining room. You can't, however, explain to people who see you that they need to pardon your appearance because you're in the middle of a personal renovation and you're looking forward to being presentable again.

- I finally figured out how to get my dad to buy me People magazine. This might not seem like a big deal, but it is. I've been asking for it for years, off and on, and his only response has been a staunch "No," a "That is crap," and , a few years ago, a vengeful subscription to The New Yorker. (I actually did like that magazine though. I can be classy.) I finally wore him down by telling him that on a Friday afternoon, I could either read People magazine or smoke a bowl to relax after my week. Turns out, I'm getting People magazine for a year!

- Wear sunscreen. Every year, I say I'm going to wear sunscreen, and I always blow it. One of my life's cardinal rules is hat I never, ever make fun of anybody's sunburn or weird tan lines because of my horrific experience a few years ago when I was tan (okay, crispified) everywhere on my legs... except my knees. It was pretty bad. Since then, I don't care if someone has the zodiac symbol on their forehead, I say nothing.

This year, on my first day down the Cape, it was really cloudy. Of course, everyone I was with was going over that whole public service announcement about how the sun is just as strong on cloudy days. I doubted this, barely applied any sunblock, and then told everyone I'd done it at home and didn't need to reapply anything and to shut up already when they kept badgering me all day and reminding me about their PSA news.

Then I fell asleep. For like an hour. But when I got back to the house, my entire back was bright red. Forget lobster red. I made a lobster look pale. I couldn't tell anybody how much pain I was in because I had basically shoved their PSA up their ass and so now I had to suffer in silence. My sides were so burned that when I turned or twisted or tried to get out of a car, it felt like I had extreme rope burn. My best friend was the only one who knew about my burn that night, but when my sister saw it the next morning, she basically slapped a skin cancer sticker on me and told me I was going to die. Thankfully, she only verbally slapped me with that death sentence because if she'd actually touched my back, I'm pretty sure I would have been a goner right there.

The sad thing is, because my burn turned into a great tan, the pain of that lesson slowly wore away and I thought more about how great the tan was. My sister kept reminding me to put on sunscreen throughout the summer, but of course, by that time, I just kept getting browner. It was glorious.

Now, in December, I can still see my tan lines. While you might think this makes me happy, it actually sort of scares me. Maybe enough into wearing some sunscreen next summer. I probably won't though, because if there's one thing I've really learned this year, it's that I never learn anything that makes me actually change my ways. Maybe in 09.