The Banana Republic of Tana

I did this last year and it made me smile so here I go

In 20o9 I…

• worked too much
• studied too little
• drank too much
• studied too little
• got hitched
• got into some trouble
• got a coffee maker as a bridal present
• still drank too much coffee at coffeeshops
• learned to accept that I will never be a size 2

In 2010 I…

• will focus on school
• make someone else smile
• try not to laugh at my own jokes
• make other people laugh at my jokes
• drink only 1 latte a week at starbucks
• run my first marathon 10-10-10 here i come
• do something for just me once a week

Adam recently decided that Dude’s old food (which was completely organic and corn free) was not good enough for him, so he decided that it would be a good idea to switch to a new food called taste of the wild. Not one to argue I agreed to let him try it out. When I questioned him why this food was better, Adam simply said look at the bag. The person behind branding and marketing over at taste of wild is a genius, because sadly, many people by food simply based on things like how the bag looks. See for yourself.

Never watch 5 episodes of the office in the row. You will only end up responding to everything with that’s what she said.

I know that’s what she said.

I have just entered the world of the scumbag. Recently, I attempted to purchase a cheeseburger at fast food restaurant controlled by an evil  red-headed bitch by the name of Wendy. I asked simply for a cheeseburger, no mayo. I order and proceed to the checkout line and I attempt to pay with a debit card. Card is declined. I sheepishly take my card and say that I will head to the nearest bank branch to straighten it all out (I was in fact negative, but that is another bitchy blog for another shitty day).  I drive off with no cheeseburger. Well today, I opened my mail and looked at my bank statement only to find that said cheeseburger had been credited to my account the next day. When I called the red-headed cunt palace they told me that sometimes when their machine repopulates it attempts to rerun all the cards that had been declined and that it usually just declines them again and because I had fixed my account the same day it must have just shown back up. I demanded a refund, or a cheeseburger in the least. The manager told me that I would have to write a letter to their franchise headquarters and then they would review the case and then may be they would refund me my 1.29.  All I wanted was a goddamned cheeseburger, and now I am not only a loser who overdrew her checking, but I am also a loser who writes a letter for $1.29.

I hate you.

I hate you for your tan.

I hate you for your tight t-shirts.

I hate you for your money.

I hate you for your highlights.

I hate you for your closed-mind

I hate you for your inability to tip.

I hate you for your daddy’s credit card.

I hate you for your 2008 SUV.

I hate you for your pearls.

I hate you for your house.

I hate you for your comments.

I hate you for your looks.

I hate you for your upturned nose.

I hate you for your parties.

I hate you for your attitude.

I hate you.

A girl at work wants to get a dog, and I have been futilely trying to convince the poodle is the way to go. No matter what I say, she continually refuses to take my word for it. Below I have listed the top ten reasons everyone in America should own a standard poodle.

10. They don’t shed
9. They are very intelligent, listed only behind the border collie according to the AKC
8. They can run up to five miles a day
7. They only destroy that which belongs to them
6. They have more versatile hair than Kid N’ Play
5. They live longer than any other dog their size
4. They are great with kids
3. They are very versatile.
2. They love you unconditionally
1. They are cuter than other being on earth. Here is proof:

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

I don’t know if this is appropriate or not, but when I have ever adhered to etiquette rules so don’t judge:

A building in my apartment almost burnt to the ground this morning, and it got me thinking about what five material possessions Iwould keep here is my list:

1. My pair of size four jeans that are probably mis-labeled but still make me feel like one skinny bitch and I may need to look good because when one lives on the street, tricks are much easier to come by when you looking fucking good.

2. The DVD to the Big Lebowski, because I may need a distraction from woes of street life

3.  My laptop to watch said DVD and arrange for said tricks on Craigslist

4. My copy of the Social Problems in Perspective, because I will need to know that someone has it worse somewhere

5. My fishing pole. As the proverb goes teach a man to fish and he eats forever.

As a well-trained sociologist (if a minor counts), I have studied the American husband at length, and would like to take this opportunity to report my findings.

The worst months to be the wife in American culture are Sept-Jan. During this time, the American husband becomes another person.  He spends hours on the internet researching the optimal line-up, finding the perfect spread, and following the message boards as if they were a religious text written solely for the betterment of footballfankind.   Date night is replaced with Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday night games. If husband and wife do happen to go out to eat on said nights, the husband ensures that he is optimal T.V. viewing position at the local sports bar.  At said bar, the husbands reverts to using language preferred by his early evolutionary ancestors by grunting in response to any questions the wife may ask.  Football replaces all other pastimes for the husband, his only concern is for game. The wife is no longer allowed to touch the remote, and the cable box must stay on ESPN when a game is not being shown out of fear the husband may miss some important announcement pertaining to his team.  The husband’s emotions are controlled only by an oblong ball, for it holds an oracale like power to predict the husband’s mood. If the husband’s team successfully handles this piece of pig flesh, the husband is undoubtedly happy for the remainder of the week. However, if said team fails, the husbands mood will also fail. The American husband is sad, primitive and ape-like creature during the fall and winter months. This researcher recommends that they be avoided at all cost during this time.

This research has been dedicated to Abbie (she is only other person who can truly relate)

Just when I think that I am an having a horrible day, the dude will lay right at my feet and suddenly life ain’t so bad.

Now that the summer of the wedding, as I have decided to refer to the past three months, has passed. I can finally get connected to my normal life again. Here is my first go at it

To change or not to change?

Whenever I first decided to get married, my gut reaction was that I was keeping my last name. Adam was okay with my choice, he knows that my name has no bearing on our relationship. Everyone else though, not so happy for it. I see the judgment in my married friends eyes, I hear the question in the tone of the bank teller, and I feel the wrath of mother well whenever the subject is broached.

People always asks me why, and I honestly haven’t really come up with one solid answer that renders the naysayers silent. It’s just this feeling that I have. My name is my name. Something about giving it up almost feels like I am giving up a piece of myself.  Becoming less me, and more mrs.