Do the little things in life just tick you off? Me too. That's why I wrote this page: to rant about the little things in life. I don't mean personal offense to anybody by them; I just have to vent. If you have a topic you would like to rant about (or would like me to rant about), drop me a line. Please note that I'm not necessarily going for humor here, I'm just telling it like I see it.
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You know what I'm talking about. The generic yogurt that your mother brings home after realizing she's wasted a fortune on that Yoplait pre-mixed Custard Style stuff (which, by the way, is the nectar of the gods, in case you didn't know). First off, you nearly have to pour the stuff into its own bowl and mix it to avoid spilling it all over yourself. We all know that those little cups are just small enough to prevent you from mashing out the lumps and getting a good blend of fruit and yogurt. Of course, the "fruit" itself is inconsistent: some of it tastes like a mildly flavorless version of the fruit it's supposed to represent, and the rest tastes like corn syrup, no matter which flavor you get. Of course, the rest of the yogurt just dulls the flavor that much more, especially if you get a big clump in there.
And woe unto the person who thinks that just because it says "Vanilla", it's pre-mixed. Wrong. Just because it's white doesn't mean it's vanilla; besides, we all know that the natural flavor of gelatin is just too much for mortal man to bear alone, let alone when you're expecting a mildly sweet flavor instead.
I'll admit it, I use home permanents. Why, you ask? It's the cheapest and (usually) most effective way I've found to straighten my hair. However, it's not without its many pitfalls:
First off, imagine being a guy having to rush into Target, shift your eyes around to make sure no one you know sees you, then rush to the checkout stand, only to be greeted by an overly-inquizitive checkout lady asking, "Are you gonna go Mike Brady on me?" Yes, ma'am, I'm so envious of Mike Brady. Mike Brady's dead.
Then you get home, you go through the pre-pre-perm-conditioner conditioner, the pre-perm conditioner, then finally you get to the perm solution... if you ever have a tough stain you need to get out of carpet, go for the perm solution. I admit I have sensitive skin, but no substance for public consumption should turn your skin blotchy-white on contact. You brush the stuff in (I use my stepbrother's brush, out of love), and you hope to goodness you don't brush the wrong way, because however you leave your hair is how it's gonna stay...
Then, after a 15-minute wait and a good hot rinse (while splattering said solution in your right eye), you're ready for the neutralizing solution. Sounds harmless, right? Bzzzzz. The reason it neutralizes is because it's the exact opposite on the pH scale... after getting a good healthy dose of it in your left eye, you let it set for 15 minutes... then you rinse it out... then you go to the post-perm conditioner, then the post-post-perm-conditioner conditioner, then you're instructed not to shampoo your hair for two days (because it'll stay in your clothes and in your stepbrother's brush, but it dang sure won't hold in your hair). All that work is done; wait another 12 weeks to repeat. And where does the word "permanent" come into play here?
Another instance where I come up with a topic, and then go out, do something stupid, and fulfill it. Just last weekend, my girlfriend gave me her name tag from Super Summer camp, and I had nowhere better to put it, so I figured I'd hang it from my rear-view mirror. I think something like that, an unobtrusive sign of affection, is actually okay, and adds a dash of personality to the car. However, what I just cannot stand is people who hang lots and lots of meaningless things up there: fuzzy dice, air fresheners, the Playboy bunny, every last form of identification they have, pictures of every one of their relatives, including their third cousin twice-removed...
The point is, your rear-view mirror has a purpose, and that purpose is not to be decorative. Any time you have to spit out the hairs from your lucky rabbit's foot, look over and ask yourself, is all this stuff really necessary? And would I look any less like a backwater goober if I took some of it down?
Short and sweet: How many times have you had to get on the freeway, with a line of cars behind you, but none in front? How many of those times have you looked over onto the freeway to see three cars in the acceleration lane, with two empty lanes to their left, refusing to move over? How many times have you had to come to a complete stop on the onramp, only to be greeted by the honking and various obscene gestures of the drivers behind you? Huh? Yeah, I thought so.