Worst Dance Party Ever

A couple days ago, I received an e-mail with the following subject line: (females only) Outdoor Tribal Drumming Dance Party

Um. The sender appeared to be a day spa in the area that I've never heard of (and certainly never supplied with my e-mail address). As I opened the message, panic set it.

"Females Young and Old, please come and dance barefoot to the moving magical sound of our live tribal drummers."

This sounded like some serious hippie shit. Was there a secret registry somewhere that I didn't know about? Did someone find out that I married a man who has gone on Phish tour? Was I captured on camera at a Phish show?? (totally a story for another post...)

Maybe this is how hippies recruit. It starts with an innocent e-mail, and before you know it, you're getting unsolicited patchwork skirts in the mail. And the worst part is that I actually thought about going. But! That's only because there was the promise of free ice cream in addition to the dancing. Heck, I've gone scarier places for free ice cream.

It was this line, however, that brought me to my senses: "Remember this is outdoors, so be prepared to get very Virginia-in-July sticky, but finally in a good way!" Bitch please. There is no "good way" to get "Virginia-in-July sticky." Besides, the ice cream is going to melt!

So the down side is that I won't be witnessing what could possibly be the most awkward gathering of sweaty, dancing women ever. But the upside is that I figured out how the spa got my e-mail address, and it does not involve a conspiracy theory. Not to mention, there's Half Baked in the freezer, and our house is air-conditioned. That is totally worth dancing for, but I'm going to play it safe and avoid the tribal drumming.

My Career

I took an online career test over the weekend, and discovered, to my dismay, that my best career choices are: funeral director, motel clerk or member of the clergy. It was like a 500 question test, so I was legitimately pissed off that I spent all that time answering questions about my personality and didn't end up with something more awesome. I was looking for confirmation that I should be making a LOT of money doing either a) nothing or b) something fun, and instead it gives me the three creepiest career options available. I'm like a Rob Zombie movie waiting to happen. My future was looking pretty bleak.

However my attitude completely turned around yesterday when, while driving home from work, I spotted a red Mustang with the tag "BEARDDS" which clearly means BEAR DENTIST, am I right?! I nearly wrecked my car trying to get a good look at this guy, but all I could tell is that he's bald and doesn't look as tough as you would imagine a bear dentist to be. They probably use tranquilizers.

Anyway, it got me thinking that if this guy can be a bear dentist, then perhaps I'm being too closed-minded in thinking about my career options. I love animals! I should totally be working them. Why not a dolphin make-up artist? Or a tiger masseuse? I feel like a whole new world of possibility has opened up for me.

I'm going to keep my eye on the job listings on Craigslist. So far, I've only found ads for dog walkers, but I'm telling you, it's only a matter of time before someone needs a llama dance instructor or something. And when that time comes, they'll know who to call.

I knew it

Perhaps you've read about Paul, the the psychic octopus who has picked Spain to win the World Cup.

Um, hello. It seems fairly clear to me that he is simply using his providential arms to tell the future. I'm just sayin'. Who's crazy now.

My New Religion, Or A Lesson In Not Abusing Pharmaceuticals

The other night, through a series of events that are far too complicated to explain here, I took an Ambien and instead of going to bed, I stayed awake and ended up creating a new religion. I guess there must have been some warnings on the label such as "go to bed after you take this" but who reads labels?

Anyway, my religion is based on the notion that a human being is actually a physical representation of the symbolism of the octopus. (I know that doesn't make any sense, but it sounded really deep at the time.) We are created by the female blue whale, and we are descendants of the "lesser whales," such as the narwhal and the orca. As I recall, the lesser whales are like saints and the blue whale is god.

And really, who can look at this guy and tell me he is not some sort of deity?

In my religion, we believe that humans have eight arms, like an octopus, but six of the arms are symbolic arms, so you can't see them. Duh. The two that you can see are known as Physical Arms, for obvious reasons. Behind you there are two more sets of arms; your Spiritual Arms and your Mental Arms. And in front of you are your Providential Arms, which help you tell the future.

That's about as far as I got before I passed out on a yoga mat. But luckily, I drew a picture and a chart that represents the religion. Because the actual illustrations are a) terrifying and b) illegible, I have recreated them for your amusement using MS Paint.

Click to enlarge


As far as I can tell, I added eyelashes, lipstick and high heels to the drawing of the octopus to show that it is a female octopus.

So I'm thinking that there might be some good money to be had in this cult thing, so if anyone wants to get in on the ground floor with this, let me know. Also, the religion needs a name, so please feel free to submit your suggestions.