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Dear Sidney Crosby,

Hi! You don’t know me, but I know you! That sounded a little creepy didn’t it? I’m real sorry about that. Anyway, how’s it going?

I don’t know if you know this about yourself, but you used to be a phenomenal hockey player. Remember in 2010, you scored the winning goal in the gold medal hockey game, for your native land of Canada? And remember how you hold the record for the youngest everything ever in the NHL?

Look at all this stuff:
First rookie to record 100 points and 100 penalty minutes in a season
Youngest player to record 100 points in a season
Youngest player to record 200 career points (19 years and 207 days)
Youngest player to record 2 consecutive 100 point seasons
Youngest player voted to the starting lineup in an All-Star Game
Youngest full team captain
Youngest NHL captain to win Stanley Cup (21 years, 10 months, and 5 days)

Those were good times weren’t they Sid? You were a star. And then this happened:

You broke your brain. And now you do nothing except skate around on ice without playing hockey, you’re essentially a figure skater. No one really likes you anymore. Now don’t get sad about that Sidney. You have only played like 8 games in the last year. Surely you can see where I’m coming from here. It’s no wonder people are starting to get angry at you and saying you’re a big baby with a broken head. You don’t do anything and you’re supposedly the Captain of your team.

But I don’t think you’re a baby Sid. That’s why I’m writing this letter to you. Because I like you, broken head or not. And since I’m probably the only one who still likes you, I was wondering if I could get a few things.

1. I’d like a million dollars. You’re being paid right now, but let’s be honest Sidney, you’re not doing anything to earn it. You could sacrifice a few mill. If you could just give me 1 million for being your biggest fan, we’ll call it even.

2. I’m also going to need a real penguin. You play for (well, you are a member of) the Pittsburgh Penguins. Surely you’ve got some sort of connection with a penguin breeder. I need a pet. Get me one Sid.

3. You also played in the olympics with Shea Weber. You guys are probably friends, right? Could you introduce us? I’d really like to marry him.

4. If you can’t get Shea Weber, will you marry me?

5. I’d also like an autographed puck

That’s it Sidney. Just those 5 things. I’m the only who still thinks you can play hockey. I haven’t once called you a whiny baby for having a broken brain. (Trust me, people call you whiny a lot, and sometimes you act a little whiny. I’ve seen the YouTube videos, and I still like ya!) I google you only a weekly* basis just to check on your brain progress. So anyway, you can see how supportive I am, during this time of broken braindom.

*daily. I’m out of control

If you could offer me the same support in fulfilling those demands, that would be phenomenal.

If you don’t, I’m going to be mad at you for a little bit. But I’ll probably still like you, dang it! You’re so darn adorable!

Okay, well have a nice day Sidney! Hope your brain/neck/spine gets better soon!

Sincerely,

Amanda, aka Your Biggest (and maybe your only) Fan

Related articles

• Sidney Crosby Back on the Ice (everyjoe.com)
• Diagnosis: Sidney Crosby (sports.nationalpost.com)
• Sidney Crosby: Why He Should Never Play in the NHL Again (bleacherreport.com)

Chia Pets. What a fun and useless item, growing greenery on things like sheep and  Scooby Doo. If you’re anything like me, you’ve been wondering to yourself, “Self. What the heck happened to Chia Pets? Where are they? Why don’t I see them anymore. I never bought one, but I wonder what the Chia guys are doing now, since I haven’t seen a Chia in a while.”

Well you’re in luck! I was just as the Chia World Headquarters the other day, crawling through their air ducts. (I like to pretend I’m a human-hamster. I’m not allowed at play places because I’m over 42 inches tall, so I have to crawl through the duct systems of large corporations…it’s not weird you guys) I happened to be crawling over the conference room as they were having their staff meeting. And I’m a big fan of eavesdropping so obviously I stopped my crawling to listen. I now know what’s going on at Chia Pet. And I know where the Chia’s are. Lucky for you guys, I like you so I’m willing to share my secret knowledge with you.

February 19, 2012 10:00 am Chia Headquarters

Chia CEO, Jeff Chiabrew gathers his employees (Dan, director of Chia Pet Marketing, and Pete the Vice President of all things Chia) in the conference room for their weekly staff meeting.

Mr. CEO: Alright guys. We’ve got a problem. Chia Pets aren’t cool anymore. People used to love growing sprouts on ceramic heads of presidents. They found joy in grass growing on a sheep. But no more. We’ve been replaced with Topsy Turvies. They can grow tomatoes and strawberries. Chia’s aren’t functional. They’re just hilarious to look at. I just love that little Shrek one. Oh my gosh! It’s so funny! But I digress. What are we going to do to make people love Chia’s again. I’ll be honest guys. I’m going broke. And we have billions of Chia seeds in the warehouse. If we don’t figure out how to make Chia Pets cool again….my family will probably starve. Do you guys want that on your heads? DO YOU? DAN! WHAT GREAT IDEAS DO YOU HAVE?

Dan: Well….um….people like vampires. Vampires with grass on their heads. Kids would love it. They love vampires….no I’m sorry I can’t even take this idea seriously. We sell ceramic heads with grass on them. I got nothing. I wouldn’t even buy it from me. Face it Jeff Chia’s are dead. Just like the DoDo bird. Our time is over.

CEO: DAN! No more talking for you. In fact leave the room. NOW. GET OUT OF HERE. How dare you insult my precious Chia Pets. You know what? You’re fired. I’ll sell these things myself. Margret? Get in here and take a memo! MARGRET? Marge? Ma….

Pete:….She quit 6 years ago sir. Remember 6 years ago when no one was buying Chia Pets anymore? Ya she left then….she was a lot smarter than the rest of us.

CEO: Pete? Do you want to be next? All you know is seeds on ceramic heads. Do you think you’re getting a job if I fire you? NO. You’re not. So you had better help me out….since Margret apparently quit a really long time ago, you’re going to have to be the note taker. Write this down…no one likes growing pointless vegetation anymore. They need it to be functional.

Pete: Chia pets are stupid. Got it.

CEO: That’s not what I said, and you know it. I hate you Pete.

Pete: And I you, Joe. I hate you.

CEO: What do people like? 

Pete: Not Chia Pets. No one ever liked those.

CEO: Seriously Pete? I’m sick of you. I might as well be having a meeting with myself. What is your problem….ok so people are really into health right now, ya? So maybe using the Chia heads as weights for bicep curls? I like that! Ok Pete, did you write that down?

Pete: You’re kidding right….you’re not kidding? You’re really serious about weights? How do you have a job? I don’t get you. We might as well just tell people to eat the Chia Pets for health. Why do you have that look on your face Joe? Joe? I was joking. You can’t eat Chia seeds. JOE! NO! They’re not food! You can’t….oh crap. 

There you have it. We don’t grow Chia Pets anymore. We eat Chia Seeds. And then we’re healthy. You’re welcome. The End.

Related articles

• All about Chia Seeds (mindychislow.wordpress.com)
• Chia Seeds: Why You Should Still Be Eating Last Year’s Superfood (blisstree.com)
• Nutritious smoothie with chia seeds (healthybodymind.wordpress.com)

Being adorable and walking around Nashville waiting for a romantic comedy moment is not working for me. No one has chased me down at an airport and proposed to me. I haven’t even looked out my window to see a man singing to me in the pouring rain. I’m going to have to take things into my own hands now. So I’ve decided I should start online dating*. I’ve never made an online dating profile so I used this handy website to help me out. I followed their steps as best I could.

Step 1: Get Away From the Computer
I did not participate appropriately in this step. I hope that doesn’t tamper with my results.

Step 2: Thinking About Who You are and What You Like
I was supposed to write 10 things about myself but I didn’t want to write anything down, so I skipped this step as well. I’m really bad at following directions. I did think about ten things though, so that counts.

Step 3: Fine-Tune Your Personal List
Nope. Didn’t do it.

Step 4: Making Your List into Dating Profile Text
This step you’re supposed to take all your interests and make a rough draft. Here’s what I’ve got:

Hello! My name is Amanda. I am a preschool teacher in the Nashville area. I wipe boogers and try to keep 3 year-olds from killing one another for a living. I also try to teach them basic life skills like the ABC’s and manners. It’s a really exciting field to be a part of. Outside of spending all day with toddlers, I have little free-time. With my free-time I basically just sit on the couch watching hockey and googleing Tim Tebow and Sidney Crosby.

I hope you like neuroses because I have a TON I would love to share with you! First my foods cannot touch on my plate. If they do I won’t eat the part that touched the other food. I’d basically be the best kosher Jew ever. I also can’t stand in front of an elevator door. I don’t want to be the one that gets shot up when an angry man comes into work with a gun you know! My closet is color-coded and arranged by sleeve length. If you mess this up, I will have to put you down. If I get any sort of dirt on my socks I have to change them immediately, and if you touch my feet, well, we’ll have to end things right there.

I have a pet schnauzer, but he’s not really a pet, he’s actually a tiny person trapped in a dog’s body. His name is Wallace T. Schnauzer III and he pretty much runs the place. He’ll probably eat your underpants, but that’s a sign of love and affection. He also attacks anything/anyone that comes near me. But don’t worry! He hasn’t killed anyone…yet (smiley face)

Step 5: What you Bring to a Relationship
This is where I’m supposed to ‘sell’ myself. I tried my hardest:

I’m the most loyal person that has ever existed. (Unless you touch my feet *hee hee giggle giggle*) I’m not very emotionally stable before 10 am and pretty much anything could push me over the edge, but after that I am rock solid! Just like a statue who doesn’t have emotions. I didn’t even cry at Marley and Me. (some might say I’m emotionally numb inside!) And I don’t really enjoy physical contact, but I’m the best darn high-fiver.

I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I believe in love after enough forced time together!

Step 6: Thinking About the Qualities You Want in the Person You Date
I was supposed to write out a list again. Didn’t do it. But I went ahead and skipped to writing the paragraph:

What I’m looking for is a nice, even-tempered man who is brawny, has the jaw of a superhero, and can grow a 5 o’clock shadow on whim. A hockey player would be ideal, preferably a nice Canadian fellow. He must have flowing locks and eyes as blue as the ocean. He doesn’t care if I cocoon myself into all the blankets at night to leave him shivering in the cold. Also he must be willing to sleep on the floor, as Wallace T. Schnauzer sleeps on the other side of my bed. A nice Canadian, who allows me to yell at the TV when watching sports, (and maybe even throw some things if necessary) that’s really all I need! If this Canadian man sounds like you, feel free to contact me!

Have a lovely day!

That’s all there is to it. Now I have myself an online dating profile. It talks about how great I am and outlines exactly what I’m looking for. I personally think I did a really fantastic job. (I should add my incredible humility to my paragraph about what I bring to relationships)

I guess I’ll just post this to all the online dating websites I can find. Surely there’s a nice Canadian hockey player out there who likes neurotic females that don’t enjoy physical contact. I just know he’s out there!

And if this doesn’t get me a man, I give up. I’ll just become a spinster.

Hey Shea Weber! You're Canadian. Let's marry?

*No I haven’t. I’m going to just continue being adorable and hoping for the best.

Related articles

• Online dating now the second most common way of starting a relationship (dailymail.co.uk)
• Is That Online Dating Profile Real? (readwriteweb.com)
• “I’m looking for a princess” and other online dating profile gems (habitza.com)

Why 3, you ask? Well 3 year-olds can say whatever the heck they want. They have no filters. Absolutely none. I had this conversation with a child just two days ago:

3 year-old “Where are your other shoes? I like those ones….The grey ones with the buttons.”
Me -”Oh? Should I wear those tomorrow?”
3 year-old – “Ya. And don’t wear that shirt. I don’t like it.”

If any grown up person had told me flat out they didn’t like my shirt, I would have considered punching them right in the face. But because an adorable little guy with a southern accent said it to me I wasn’t offended. (I will admit when another child looked me in the eyes and said, “I don’t like you.” I was offended. I am very likable you guys!)

If I suddenly became 22-year-old me in 3-year-old me’s body I can only imagine the joyous times I would have. Those thoughts I keep in my head…I would say ALL OF THEM.

If some stranger with a beard tried to make conversation with me while waiting in line at Walmart I would turn around and say, “I don’t want to talk to you, you’re creepy and quite frankly you smell like poop.” The bearded stranger wouldn’t be offended. He would just laugh it off because my 3 year-old rudeness was adorable!

When obnoxious young men in big trucks drive next to my car revving their engines, I would roll down my window and say, “Hey buttface. No one thinks it’s cool that your car is loud. In fact most of us think you’re trying to make up for your lack of masculinity. So stop it. You’ll never get a woman that way.” They would be so shocked with my frankness that they couldn’t even be mad that I said it! It would be awesome! (Actually this one would not work….mainly because 3 year-olds cannot drive)

And to the guy at work the other day who used m&m’s as an object lesson to teach children that we’re all different colors but the same on the inside, I would say, “Excuse me sir. We are 3. We don’t realize that we have different skin colors. We just see other kids. And in teaching this lesson you have actually pointed out to us the different races in this room. We didn’t see skin colors until you pointed this out with your m&m lesson. So thanks for introducing us 3 year-olds to racism!!” He would probably just be really amazed at my great communication skills. I would probably leave that guys speechless. (Also I might say this as a 22 year-old. That guy was really stupid. I wanted to punch him)

Then there would be the average everyday conversations. Things like, “Your haircut looks really bad.”, “Please stop touching your ring. I’m not going to ask you about it.”, and “I can see your butt crack when you bend down with those skinny jeans on.”

I would be the best 3 year-old ever. I could help people out by being adorable while pointing out their flaws without them being offended. I could single-handedly stop this phenomena of jeggings*, by simply asking all women wearing them why they don’t have pants on. (I would also attempt to stop that terrible thing males do where they cut out the armpits of their shirts causing me to be able to see their nipples. What the heck is that about. Why not just go shirtless at that point?)

So if anyone has any connections to Benjamin Button, I’d be interested in aging backwards. I’d really like to be able to speak freely without offended others.

Or maybe I’ll just start saying everything that pops into my head. Who needs friends anyway right?

If she says you look fat, you're not even mad!

*Secretly I’m just jealous that I can’t rock the jeggings. I have disproportionately large calves. I would look ridiculous.

You see, I’ve spent the last 5 years of my life working with toddlers. I don’t know how much you know about toddlers, but they are quite disgusting. Liquids ooze from every hole in their body. They chew on everything. They stick their fingers up their noses. They stick their fingers in other people’s noses. They stick their hands in their diapers. And then they touch you. So after 5 years of coming home everyday with some bodily fluid on my clothing I have pretty much been exposed to every disease. Cold, flu, chicken pox, small pox, cow pox, dog pox, the bubonic plague, all of them. And I only called in sick once* in five years. My immune system is incredible. At least that’s what I thought.

*I may have called in ‘sick’ a few other times. I was only vomiting/had a fever once. I’m a bad person.

It started off innocently with a sneeze. Then there was another sneeze. And another. And then I couldn’t breathe out my nose holes anymore. My brain felt like it was much larger than the hole in my head where it is supposed to fit. And my left nostril is no longer functioning. It could be from sitting in the ‘little clinic’ at Kroger so I could have a doctor sign off on my ‘not crazy papers’ for work, or it could be from the old people who are everywhere in Tennessee. But it doesn’t matter where this plague started because I am not sick.

Nope. It’s not a cold. I refuse to believe that my immune system is anything but flawless. So the snot that is filling my head, just allergies. And all the coughing, just from all the second-hand smoke in the world. I’m not sick.

Because I’m not sick I went ahead and looked up my symptoms on WebMd. I told them all about my nasal congestion and my coughing. They suggested that I’m suffering either from nasal polyps, a foreign object in my nose, or a goiter. So that sucks. But my immune system is in the clear. There’s no way a lack of immunity caused a foreign object to get in my nose. I’m super glad that I’m not sick though. I can still keep my pride of having a great immune system. Thanks WebMD!

If I sneeze on you, don’t worry it’s not a cold. It’s just that I’ve come down with a case of the death.

This is exactly what I look like when I'm sick. I'm really elegant.

Related articles

• Cold Medicine: Treatment Facts (webmd.com)
• Can touching one’s face cause one to catch cold? (zocdoc.com)

Image via Wikipedia

To my iPhone:

I know many people love you and your neat abilities to do lots of things at once. You make phone calls. I can Wikipedia on you.  When I have a question I can just use you to look it up immediately. But I think I might hate you. I know what you’re thinking, “Who hates phones? They help people stay in contact with loved ones who are far distances away. You can talk to them like they’re right next to you even when they’re 3 trillion miles away. And why did you title this blog ‘a love story’ if you hate me? You’re such a weirdo.” Well first of all iPhone, those are very valid reason for your existence and I appreciate the work you do for me. But there are three main reasons for this hatred of you.

Reason #1: People Call Me
I enjoy talking to people mostly. Ok, no that’s a lie. I don’t really enjoy talking to people. I do, but I don’t. It really just depends on the setting. (also I tend to be really indecisive) To me talking on the phone is like being stuck in an empty room with another person. We’re both there, we both know the other one is there and someone (who is not me) decides a conversation needs to happen. I’m perfectly content with the awkward silence but noooo, we need to talk to each other. So then we participate in that tragic event know as small talk. I hate small talk as much as I hate phones. “Oh, how are you? blah blah blah it’s cold outside, what’s new?” So stupid. (ask my opinion on the Jersey Shore and I’ll talk for hours, that’s no small talk) And I’m just really terrible at small talk. Ask me any question, I respond with one word. It’s my little cross to bear. So let’s take my incredible lack of small talk skills and add the lack of visual cues, then you have a phone call with me. I’m almost positive that every conversation I have on the phone, the person on the other side is rolling their eyes and mocking me. I don’t have a logical reason for thinking this. Perhaps it’s paranoia. (it could also be because I may, or may not be guilty of phone mocking a time or two) But because I can’t see a person’s face on the phone I just know they’re mocking my every word.

Reason #2: People Text Me
Now I would much rather text someone than talk to them on the phone but there is way too much pressure involved in it. Someone texts me pictures of their new baby I respond “OH SO CUTE!!!!!!!!” with too many exclamation points, I’m a creeper, too few exclamation points, I hate their baby. If I respond too quickly to a message I seem desperate and lonely, if I wait too long I’m a jerk. If I write ‘lol’ at the wrong time, we’re no longer friends because I laughed at the fact that your grandma died. So. Much. Pressure. And to top it all off, my sarcasm is not read through texts at all. I’m sure I’ve probably offended people a time or two because of my sarcastic responses. So I’ve taken to throwing a ‘ha’ at the end of sarcasm. But that makes me feel conceited, because then I’m laughing at myself. And I tend to get too wordy on messages. No one wants to read a novel when all they ask is ‘what’s up’. But if I respond with ‘not much. you?’ then I seem disinterested. Do you see what I mean? What is proper texting etiquette? Are there classes for this? Can I learn the proper way to text without pitting out a t-shirt because I’m worrying about responding properly? Seriously. I can’t handle the pressure. Many different times I have rewritten a message at least 12 times because I tend to over-think things, therefore I’m convinced everything I say is over-thought by the person who receives it….I might need counseling.

Reason #3: I No Longer Have Time-Management Skills
Since the conception of the smartphone, I can play games everywhere I go. This doesn’t seem like a bad thing, but it is. All those past times when I’ve had to utilize the skill of ‘patience’ are no more. Now if I have to wait somewhere, I just pull out my phone and play some Angry Birds. Next thing you know I’ve been sitting at the dentist for 3 hours. It only felt like 15 and now I’ve completely missed them calling my name and my teeth will be dirty for another week. Smartphones have also increased the amount of time I spend in the bathroom. I swear I spend hours in there now playing Words With Friends. I go in when the sun is up and come out to darkness. I’m out of control. I can’t stop running from those darn demon monkeys until I’ve beaten my high-score on Temple Run. Heaven forbid my phone dies when I’m out somewhere. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore if I have to wait. There’s a good chance I might just have a panic attack if I have to wait for a table at a restaurant and I can’t play Doodle Jump. It’s eating away my life!

All that being said I still love you.  If someone tries to take you away, I will hit them. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I hate everything about you, but I don’t ever want to be away from you. It’s like you’re my child. You’re annoying, loud, and you follow me everywhere I go. But I still love you, in spite of all your flaws. I never want you to leave me.

But seriously. Don’t ring. I don’t want to talk on you. Ever.

Related articles

• How a Smartphone Improves Your Life (mycricket.com)
• How Do People Use Their Smartphones (mycricket.com)
• Small Talk and Safe Topics (niconica.wordpress.com)
• A Smartphone, By Any Other Name, Would Still Encourage Dumb Jokes (puns.icanhascheezburger.com)

None. I have none valentine’s for tomorrow. And the odds of me somehow picking up a valentine between and now and midnight are also none. Mainly because the only place I might go, other than home, between now and then is Walmart. I don’t want a Walmart valentine. Yuck. (plus I’m getting this weird pimple right by my lip, and it kind of looks like I have a case of the herp and that is not helping matters)

In fact I’ve never had a valentine. (Unless you count the small children I work with but I don’t, because that’s inappropriate) Even in elementary school when the super awesome 6th grade relationships were going on, no one brought me a teddy bear. Years and years I have waited for a teddy bear. Still no teddy bear for Amanda. So I’ve thought long and hard about this and here’s what I need to make up for 22 years of none valentines. Feel free to take notes fellas (mostly Colin Wilson)

First I’m going to need a teddy bear. Not just any teddy bear. A big teddy bear. 22 years worth of teddy bear. One like this one (but without that girl, I don’t want or need her):

Next I need tickets to the Predators / Blackhawks game tomorrow night. Right on the glass would be best, but if you can only swing upper deck I’ll deal with it I guess. I’ve taken the liberty to find some on eBay for your easy purchase so here ya go: 2 Chicago Blackhawks Vs. Nashville Predators 02/14/12

hockey fights are so romantic!

And my final demand is a poem. Not just any poem. A mushy poem. A mushy poem written solely using the words on conversation hearts. And no limericks or haiku’s. That’s cheating. Just glue those suckers on a doily in some sort of rhythm and send it my way. If it’s homemade I’ll love it. (and feel free to bring the rest of the bag of conversation hearts as a snack for the hockey game. I haven’t eaten any yet this year).

That’s it. That’s all I need to be happy. Is that so much to ask? I’m pretty easy-going. Just a poem, a big bear and some hockey tickets. What’s the big deal?

So anyway…
If anyone wants to, ya know, be my valentine….you know what to do.

Related articles

• Valentine’s Day Gifts That Show You Care (myfoxny.com)
• Introducing Send-A-Hug Valentine’s Day Gifts, a New Kind of Teddy Gram (prweb.com)

Now since my recent come-outtance as a sports fan I’ve noticed that there are about 5 basic schools of fan-hood at sporting events: (particularly Nashville Predators hockey games) There’s the shouter, the mutterer, the questioner, the crowd-coach and the groupie.

The “Shouter”
They are very passionate about the game. They are also very passionate about beer, drinking one every 15 minutes. They yell everything they say. However, it seems that the shouters don’t actually know how the game works. They just shout whatever is on their mind at the time. They yell at players like they’ll actually be heard. They yell at the referees as if they could do a better job. As the evening goes in their shouting becomes less coherent. Some people might even refer to the shouters as the ‘obnoxious drunks’ (some people = Amanda) .

The “Mutterer”
Unlike the shouters, most mutterers are actually knowledgeable about the game. They know the players and all their statistics. They know when a penalty needs to be called. They’re not boisterous about this information however. They just mumble things like, “Nope. Bad call”, “Guys, come on” or “Toots is on the ice” as if they have secret knowledge that they don’t want to share with anyone other than the person directly next to them. They might be more obnoxious than the shouters simply because when I want to eavesdrop on them it’s really hard.

The “Questioner”
Often attending the game with mutterers, the questioners do just as their name suggests; they ask lots of questions. Questions about how the game works and who the players are, often they are very stupid questions. For instance at the last game I attended the questioner behind me asked their mutterer friend what all the black things (they were hockey pucks) on the ice were and when the best time to go to the bathroom would be. (clearly the best time would be at the end of a period) They have a thirst for knowledge but a complete lack of logical reasoning. They also seem to have a case of voice immodulation disorder because they ask their stupid questions really loud, causing me to laugh at them.

The “Crowd Coach”
This is the person giving really intelligent advice to the players, unfortunately the players cannot hear them because they are up really high. They give helpful advice like, “GUYS! Defend the goal!”, “Shoot the puck!” or “Get a goal!” (FYI this is not actually helpful advice as the players know how to play and that’s why they are in the NHL) The crowd coach population tends to be mostly women, I assume because they feel like they should be mothering the players.

The “Groupies”
The groupies are solely teenage/college age females. They know absolutely nothing about sports. They don’t care to know anything about them either. But they like to look at the players and have chosen their particular love target. They come to the games armed with plenty of neon colored signs proposing marriage to their favorite players. They also get up a lot during the games as if the players will see them amongst the 17,000 other people and fall in love immediately. (this does not appear to be working for them) I find these ones highly obnoxious.

I reluctantly have to admit that I tend to float a little into each of these schools. I mutter things to my neighbors, but also shout at the players. I sometimes coach from my seat, saying things like “Come on Sergei! What are you doing? You need to score!” and “What are you doing Kevin Klein? Why do you always shoot from the blue line!” I’ve been known to ask a stupid question a time or two as well. I even have a players I would be willing to marry if they asked. (Hey Colin Wilson! I’m waiting) But I DO NOT make signs. I draw the line there. (Sidenote: If I made a sign it would not propose marriage. It would say “Hey Brandon Yip! We Want a Yip-Check!!”)

I’m willing to admit that I’m pretty obnoxious. But luckily for me I’m an American. It’s natural for me to do these things at sporting events. In fact I might even say it’s expected. I’ll just be okay with being a shouting, mumbling, questioning, crowd-coach who would marry a player if they asked.

Plus this is the only social setting in which it’s okay for me to shout, “Hey, you suck!” at someone. So I’m not going to argue with the rules.

Dunston Checks In, Ed, and Rocketman. Monkey’s dressed like humans acting like humans. This was the greatest. I watched those darn monkeys walking around in baseball uniforms and bellhop clothes and all I wanted was a monkey that I could dress as a human. Forget the fact that having a monkey is probably a terrible idea because they fling dung and screech really loud. I wanted a monkey. I wanted one bad. I might even still want one, but my grown up logical reasoning tells me I shouldn’t buy a monkey. (Valentine’s day is Wednesday. If anyone’s looking for a last-minute present for me, I would still take a monkey.)

It came to my attention recently that children today are not receiving the joy of monkey movies that I had growing up. I haven’t seen a Monkey in human clothes playing sports in years. I might even say that Hollywood is doing a disservice to children and monkeys in general. The monkey movies of today are giving monkeys a bad reputation.

Outbreak, a monkey is responsible for the spread of an incredibly contagious disease that kills thousands of people. Rise of Planet the of the Apes, the monkey gets out of control, reeks havoc everywhere, and even bites a man’s finger off.

WHAT ARE WE DOING TO THE MONKEYS?? Monkeys are cute and possess human qualities. They play baseball with Matt Leblanc, go to space with Harland Williams and befriend a young boy in a hotel. THEY DON’T SPREAD DISEASE OR BITE PEOPLE’S FINGERS OFF! (there’s a chance that these things could happen, but I choose to remain ignorant) How will this generation of children find the love and joy of monkeys in human clothes if they are scared for their lives? This will never work. We need a new monkey movie. And that is why I have come up with this simple movie plot that I’m taking to Hollywood. It will bring monkey joy to thousand of children around the world and they will no longer fear for their phalanges.

The setting, New York City, the summer of 2012. A life-hardened businessman, Stanley, is looking for joy in his life. His family has left him because he puts his job first. In walks Chachi, the happy chimp who has recently escaped from the Bronx Zoo. Stanley thinks he’s losing his mind because he keeps seeing this chimp everywhere. Finally he comes to acceptance of the realness of Chachi and decides to take care of him and make him his friend because he has no others as he has alienated all of his real friends. He dresses him in business suits and slowly falls in love with Chachi. Through a series of hilarious misunderstandings Stanley’s family finds out about Chachi. They see that Stanley has changed and is caring deeply for this chimp and he could love them again too. Stanley’s son, Adam, convinces his mother, Leslie, to give Stanley another chance. They fall back in love. The Bronx zoo takes Chachi back. Adam begs for his fathers help in getting Chachi back. Stanley finally caves and they form a coup to get Chachi back. The final scene of the movie is Stanley and Leslie renewing their vows while Chachi obviously acts as the minister. The love of a chimp brings about the renewal of love in a marriage.

Classic chimp movie. Monkeys bring everyone together and make everything better. We don’t need children to be fearful of monkeys. We don’t. Children already have to be wary of strangers, they don’t need to worry about chimps also. If I could just get Hollywood to make this movie, I know I could bring back a happy perception of chimps. Let’s work together to get children to fall in love with monkeys again.

And let’s keep dressing chimps as baseball players because that’s just adorable.

Related articles

• Stolen monkey returned to zoo – CNN (edition.cnn.com)
• Monkey washing up viral: Chimp can multitask at babysitting, but can he push a hoover around too? (mirror.co.uk)

As long as I’ve had the capability to breathe on my own I have been a member of the Church. In fact, for a major portion of my childhood, my mother was my children’s pastor, so I’ve seen my fair share of church people, church issues and the inner workings of the church. Growing up I had a great perception of the term Christian. Everyone I associated myself with was a Christian. I accepted Christ myself at the age of 12 and went on to pursue my calling into Children’s ministry after high school.

It wasn’t until college that I began to see that I had been very blessed in my interactions with other Christians within the church. Through people I worked with and, even people I attended class with, I became aware that the term Christian can very easily have a negative connotation to it. I didn’t really get how this happened because of how I had grown up, and the people I had grown up around. Everyone I knew that was a Christian, or was associated with the church in any way, lived their life following Christ and living for him, so I, in no way, have ever seen the term Christian as negative.

Within the last year however, I have seen how this can easily happen. I graduated in May with a ministry degree and I began sending out my resume to different churches. I had several interviews with different churches and many different pastors. Most were very positive experiences and while I didn’t get any of those jobs I walked away from each one learning something in the process and knowing there was something else out there. However there were a few interactions that left me with a little bit of a sour taste. Situations in which I was contacted first, or was asked to send my resume. I would put a lot of effort, more than I probably should have, into getting back to these people immediately. I would email them back as soon as possible, call them whatever it was I needed to do, asking if they needed anything else from me. And then nothing. No calls back, no emails, no ‘thanks for your resume’. Nothing. I would get bummed trying to figure out how I possibly offended someone or made myself look unqualified just through sending a resume. I don’t feel like my resume makes me look like a bonehead. Maybe it does, but I don’t think so.

These experiences have not made me angry at Christian’s or the church in any way, don’t get me wrong. I still have a high opinion of people who are doing Christ’s work in the church setting, but these experiences did make me see how someone who wasn’t from church background could feel put off and ignored a little. Luckily, I know enough trustworthy, loving people in the Church and I’m strong enough in my faith that I’ve learned to brush off these negative experiences and focus on the positive ones with real Christlike people. But it’s not hard for me to see how someone who didn’t grow up in the church, and was a pastor’s kid, could be turned off by things such as this.

When you think of a leader of a church you think of someone who is willing to go out of their way to help people. Someone who is honest, even when it’s hard. You know, someone who acts like Christ. At least that’s what I’d like to think the people who are leading our churches are like. It sucks that there are people out there who are making Christians look like people filled with hate and anger towards others. There are people like Fred Phelps who do some of the most hateful things I can think of and they do it in the name of Christ. That’s not a Christian to me. There are also people who choose not to respond to any type of communication from a 22-year-old college grad rather than even attempt to hear her out. I would be lying if I said I didn’t lose a little respect for some of those people through those few experiences. I would greatly respect someone who came to me and said, “We’ve decided to go in a different direction.” or “You don’t quite have the experience we’re looking for” rather than a response that sounds similar to crickets. That’s not Christian to me either.

To me a Christian is someone who does their best in everything they do. They might not be the best, they might even be the worst but they’re doing their best. And the reason they’re doing their best is because they’re doing it for Christ. They’re living their life not focused on how they appear to the world or whether they have the newest gadgets and gizmos. They’re entire life is focused on whether or not they’re reflecting an attitude of Christ in their daily walk. The attitude of love, kindness, and all the other fruits of the spirit. It’s a life lived for something so much bigger than this world. All too often this isn’t the case in our world. And that’s what sucks. I guess I just wish I could apologize to all the people with negative perceptions of Christians. We’re not all that way, in fact most of us aren’t that way. I’d like to think that everyone who says they’re a Christian is reflecting a true Christ-like attitude, but I’m not naive. I know they’re not.

I just hope that I’m never that person bringing a negative view to Christians. I hope I never reach point where I’m so focused on myself that I can act hatefully to someone and be okay with it. I hope AND pray that I conduct myself in such a way that I reflect Christ. I hope people see me as living my life for something bigger than myself, something bigger than just this world. I hope that I’m seen as someone who is showing Christ’s love through my actions and words. And I also hope that if I’m not, someone calls me out really fast.

That’s it guys. I’m not even sure if anyone will read all of that and I’m not even sure it makes sense if anyone does but that’s what was on my heart. Thanks for listening to my diarrhea of the mouth if you did read all of that rambling. Much appreciated here. Don’t worry though. I only have serious thoughts every couple of months. I’ll probably go back to poop jokes and such tomorrow.