My alibi? I was getting my teeth cleaned...

Most people hate going to the dentist. At one time I may have been considered one of those people, as I once went eight years without so much as a cleaning. Will not make that mistake. It's not because I am suddenly a Mature Adult who finally realizes The Great Importance of Regular Dental Hygiene. Far from it, actually. No, going to my scheduled cleaning after work this evening was the highlight of my day.

Want to know why? 

Because I got to lie back in a comfy chair and watch Unsolved Mysteries. 

That is how much I miss that show, people. I was willing to endure scalpels, rinsing and spitting, and all sorts of awkwardness to watch it. Also, it was the new remake with Dennis Farina, so I didn't even get the full effect. But I was happy because IT WAS THE BOB BEAN EPISODE. And even though Dennis's narration can't hold a candle to Robert Stack's awesomeness, they still used the original footage. So I got to see Bob Bean and company in all their cheesy 80's bad soap opera-esque glory. 

"I love this episode!" I squealed. 

"What is it?" asked the hygienist. 

"It's Unsolved Mysteries," I said. "This episode cracks me up...they're all pointing fingers at each other and it's just ridiculous...I can't explain it, but it's funny." 

"Sounds interesting," he said as he tried to shove a scalpel and mirror in my mouth (except I wouldn't shut up). Despite having plaque scraped off my teeth and drool coming out my mouth, I was having a grand time, especially when the hygienist starting getting into the episode. 

"That Bob Bean guy is a real snake, huh?" 

"Unnh (yeah)!" was my reply. 

"I'll bet he's the murderer," he said, dabbing the drool off my chin. "Is he?" 

I wasn't planning to answer which is just as well because the scalpel and other dental tools prevented me from talking. 

Danny (the creepy brother of the murder victim) and Pat (Bob Bean's ex wife and the murder victim's fiancee) started telling their stories which caused the hygienist to chime in with "Oh, I bet THEY did it!" only to be disappointed when their alibis cleared. He would ask my input from time to time on what I thought of the case. 

"Urrgh," I said. 

Then the update music played. "Hey, an update! Have you seen this update?" he asked. Dennis Farina explained who the killer of Sammy Wheeler really was and that he had been caught. "So...did Bob Bean hire a hitman, or what?" 

"Mmrrrf!" I said, meaning "no, the FBI concluded it was a random act of violence which was their theory all along." 

We continued watching the other cases and having meaningful dialogue about each one ("he did it?" "unnf!") until the cleaning was done. Then another staff member came in to schedule my next appointment. I'm not due back until April 2014. When I got home I looked on the calendar and saw that I have a college fair that night so tomorrow morning I'm going to have to call and reschedule. 

I'll have to make sure I schedule for when Unsolved Mysteries is on. 

Robert Stack is the new chicken noodle!

Today at work I found myself starting to feel cruddy. My throat has been sore off and on the past few days. This morning it started feeling irritated and my head felt stuffy. I've been around a lot of germs lately so I figured I'm just coming down with whatever is going around. I decided to cancel my plans for the evening, invest in some spicy food for dinner, and just chill.

And I found myself really wishing that I could watch "Unsolved Mysteries."

File this under the Many Mysteries of The Scooter --- I *love* watching "Unsolved Mysteries" when I'm sick. LOVE it. A few years ago I had the flu and was stuck in my apartment almost two weeks. I would grab my laptop and watch "Unsolved Mysteries" on YouTube, nap, watch some more, eat some soup, lather, rinse, repeat. I have fond memories of being up at 3 AM, unable to sleep, passing the time by watching old episodes.

Yes, you read that correctly. I am being nostalgic about being up all night WITH THE FLU watching this show.

Weird, right?

And if all of that wasn't enough, lemme add another layer to this puzzle. I hate scary movies. Hate them. Why? Because...well, they scare me. I don't like to be scared. A couple years ago I had my first haunted house experience. I was 27 years old at the time and had never been to a haunted house. This particular one was picked because I have friends that work there. So I figured it would just be fun, right? Oh no.

"I need to hold your hand RIGHT NOW!" I shrieked to my DMC (Designated Male Companion) as soon as the gates of the haunted house were opened. And hold his hand I did all the way through the incredibly cheesy haunted forest. A few months later this same DMC and I went to see "The Woman in Black," a pretty tame scary movie as far as the horror genre goes. Did that matter to this wuss? Of course not. I jumped out of my seat every time the stupid crow squawked (which was a lot).

"Relax, it's just a crow," said DMC.

"I hate you!" I whispered back, harshly. "You know that, right?"

Yes, crows and cheesy gimmicks scare me, but real life tales of murder and crime do not. Go figure.

No, I see Robert Stack in that trench coat, walking down a foggy alley to the beat of that creepy music, and I am in heaven.

I've tried to figure out why this is. My thoughts are that "Unsolved Mysteries" is productive-scary...they're showing you all these murder reenactments so they can catch some bad guys. Scary movies are just...well, scary for the sake of scary. One could argue that they're "productive-scary" in a different way...like in the "I want to get cozy with this guy or girl so I think I'll just have them watch this movie to scare the #$%! out of them so I don't seem like a creeper when I go in for the cuddle." I suppose that's a valid argument and a potentially effective dating strategy. Personally, if any suitors of mine are reading this, I'd rather you just go for it and hold my hand without making me feel the need to wet myself first, thank you.

My other theory is that "Unsolved Mysteries" is just so old that a lot of episodes are dripping with 80's cheesiness, and it's entertaining. Another possibility is that since most of the episodes are so old many of the cases are solved by now (even if they weren't during the show's original run). I know the *only* reason I can stomach watching the satanic arson episode is because it was solved. Otherwise it would just scare the #$%! out of me completely.

The most likely theory, however, is that I'm just weird. I'm weird and that's why I like watching "Unsolved Mysteries" when I'm sick (even though I don't like horror movies). I can live with that.

Now if only I could find some UM episodes...I've really gotta kick this bug....

Writer's Block, O How I Loathe Thee...

*waves* Hi readers.

So...I really want to write something here. But I have no idea what to write. It sucks.

I prepared a file of writing ideas that have come to me o'er time for just such an occasion. But here in this moment...I've still got nothing.

But is that stopping me? Of course not. That's the beauty of blogging. Anybody can get online and write any kind of crap they want and publish it whenever they want, and boom! There it is.

Anyways...I was really hoping something would magically come to me just because I started typing. No such luck. I'm too tired, I guess.

I will say that I feel better for trying. I've really been slacking off on this whole writing thing.

So...what should I write about? What would y'all like to read? Leave me some love and let me know! ;)

Beware the bridesmaids!

So last night Speedy, Squeaky, and I were lamenting the demise of Xanga...which got us talking about how stupid our blog entries in college were...which got me thinking about said blog entries. I seem to recall that I had a habit of just posting funny things that people said or in some cases entire transcripts of funny conversations that we had. So in the spirit of honoring Xanga/paying tribute to our college selves, I give you a transcript of Last Night's Conversation: 

ME (to Katie): When I get married, I want you to be in charge of cake distribution and crowd management. 

SPEEDY: YES! I get to be the wedding bouncer! 

ME: That's right. I'm gonna give you a microphone so you can tell everyone, "okay, you've got five minutes to eat cake and get out. Leave your gifts at the door." 

SPEEDY: Well, I'd probably give them more than five minutes. People have to eat the cake and they'll probably want to socialize a bit since a lot of people won't be able to go to the temple and all. 

ME: Let me explain something to you about my people (Mormons). When it comes to time, you have to lie to us. It's not just about being late. Telling them five minutes will get everyone cleared out in like half an hour. It's perfect. 

SQUEAKY: So maybe we should say two minutes so they'll be out in half the time. 

ME: No, we'd better stick with five. See, you gotta at least pretend to be subtle about the lie. If it's just two minutes, they'll see through that as an attempt to get them to leave and they'll revolt. Five minutes is more believable. Now Cap'n, I want you to be in charge of decoration and be an assistant to the bouncer. 

SQUEAKY: Can I have a Super Soaker full of coffee to spray at people? 

ME: Oooh, coffee. That would scare the crap out of a lot of Mormonfolk! 

SQUEAKY: I will keep it hidden behind a crucifix on the wall so when trouble strikes I can grab it and rush into action. 

ME: Umm...well, that could work, except you wouldn't find a crucifix at a Mormon church. You'd have to hide it behind like...a painting of Joseph Smith or something. 

SQUEAKY: No, it could still work. See, I'll be praying for you while you're in the temple, so whatever church I'm at I'll hide it behind their crucifix. 

ME: See, that's all the more reason why I should get married in the Nauvoo temple, because Saints Peter and Paul Catholic church is right next door, so that would be really convenient for you. 

SQUEAKY: YES! 

ME: Wait...we don't have any paintings of Joseph Smith hanging up. And the reception wouldn't be at the Nauvoo temple, so maybe that wouldn't work. But I'm sure it would be around the corner or something. Maybe we should just have it hidden somewhere in the church with a sign that says "in case of the need to squirt someone with coffee, break glass." 

(thinks)

What could Emily do at my wedding? (thinks) She could be assistant to Jessie when it comes to decorating, and she will be in charge of sewing. Anything that needs to be sewn, that's all Emily. 

Sorry I've neglected the blog for so long. I will write more, good readers! Promise! 

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Litterbox

So...I've always been a churchgoing Christian girl. Consequently, I've heard many a sermon about hell. Not to brag, but the descriptions of hell in the Bible never scared me. Maybe it was because I just couldn't grasp it, maybe because I'd like to think I'm on a path to heaven...whatever the case, fire and brimstone threats just didn't work.

But after tonight, I think I've experienced hell. And the portal to hell is called Yesterday's News.

Let me explain. Our household recently adopted a male cat. We've had plenty of cats, but always female. Last week Gus went to the vet for The Surgeries --- losing the claws, losing the manhood, the whole package deal.

When cats are declawed, for the first couple of weeks after the surgery they have to use a special kind of litter which is essentially rolled up, compacted bits of newspaper --- hence the brand name Yesterday's News. Regular litter could get caught in their still healing wounds and get infected.

The down side to the paper stuff is that it does not clump and consequently does not have odor protection. So frequent scooping is a must.

"Not a problem," I thought initially. "A nuisance, but not a problem." Scooping up poop several times a day was not fun, but it was worth it to have a sweet, cuddly kitty whose hugs can no longer injure me.

But then he had to pee...

Cat pee is already one of the worst smells in the universe. But the pee of a neutered cat is infinitely worse because all the hormones running amok...or something...I'm not good explaining these things. The point is, it is a smell that makes you wish for death. Not kidding.

I notice it when I come home from work and try to scoop it out. No easy task since it doesn't clump. I sift through the litter box, periodically bringing scoop fulls up to my nose for a good whiff so I can identify the offending scoop. Still nothing. Eventually I find an area that looks more wet than others. I scoop it, toss it in a bag, throw the bag in the garage, and retreat to the shower, foolishly thinking my ordeal was over.

It wasn't.

The smell was still there, and it was getting stronger. So I enlisted the help of my brother to dump out the entire box of litter to try and purge the smell. Still there. I have him rinse it out while I sweep the floors. Still there. I run to the shower with the empty box in hand, dump what looks like half a bottle of liquid soap in there, and scrub, scrub, scrub. The showerhead is on full blast; the room is filling with steam from the ridiculously hot water; I am losing it.

"And lo, hell is place of cat pee, and where the sinner must suffer an endless torment cleaning the litter of the cats of Satan (who have just returned from the Styx veterinary clinic). And lo, the sinner wails, and weeps, and nashes the teeth, but it is to no avail."

Finally, it seems I may get some relief. But then I carry it back to my room (which I have aired out a little) and...

THE SMELL IS STILL THERE.

"It's still there! It's still there!" I start screaming. (Seriously, I was saying this out loud.) I start throwing out some laundry on the floor, sniffing the bed, wondering if he peed on it.

As I've typed this post, the smell has gotten better...though now my head hurts. I realize perhaps I was being a bit overdramatic...though maybe I'm not.

You know what the worst part is?

I know that as soon as the smell finally leaves, Gus will come...probably in the middle of the night...and pee in the fresh clean litterbox...and I will be in hell ALL. OVER. AGAIN.

So if there are any preachers or parents or what have you reading this who would like to scare kids into submission, skip the firey lakes and endless woe. Just tell them they'll have to spend eternity with an army of neutered cats. That'll scare the piss out of them guaranteed.

And oh yes, that pun was intended.

I Believe in Sex Cleavage, or Things I Learned in Graduate School

So I am way behind on this whole blogging thing. Fear not, good readers, writing more is on my winter break to-do list.

I have officially finished my first semester of my masters program in Social Work. And it feels good. Unfortunately, it has left me rather brain fried. So I'll admit I'm struggling a little to think of something Funny, Witty, Memorable, and/or Philosophical to say here.

But I'm here to assure y'all that I'm working on it. Really. If I don't write something non-academic soon I'm gonna explode.

Hey, that's a thought. Maybe I'll share Things That I Learned During This Semester:

-If you use enough of the right buzzwords, you can convince anyone that you know what you're talking about. Examples:

WRONG: The scientist believed that children sometimes act out because they did not develop a good relationship with their parents.

RIGHT: The psychobehavioral-ologist concluded that children between the ages of 18 months to 18 years sometimes exhibited anti-prosocial behavioral tendencies due to a lack of a sufficiently matured parent-child emotional modifier, also known as a Freudian scaffolding phase substage.

In the above example, the "wrong" phrase actually makes a lot more sense to the average person. But the "right" phrase sounds a heck of a lot more impressive...even though it's complete bull.

-"Sex cleavage" is an actual term in developmental psychology. And it doesn't mean what you think it means.

(Leave a comment if you want to know the definition.)

(I promise it isn't dirty at all. It's quite innocent, actually.)

-Similar to the buzzword phenomenon, when in doubt, just start ranting about The Man keeping people down. Works every time.

-APA citation guidelines are a great way to pad the length of your paper. Even with the most basic of citations, they're significantly longer than an MLA citation. For maximum results, try to get articles with ten million authors, because --- while MLA will let you get away with the bare minimum --- APA wants you to list EVERY BLESSED THING about EVERY BLESSED PERSON involved. Observe how --- with the right articles --- APA citation can stretch out your paper:

In a recent study, a research team from Lucrative University discovered that graduate students are "very whiny" (McSnooterton, Fugley, vonWeinerschnitzel, Fassbender, Jackman, Firth, Berkley, Harvardson, Patrick-Harris, & FitzMcMac, 2012, p.1999).

See? That's almost three sentences for a two word quote! Awesomeness!

-Always, always, ALWAYS check your email before going to class to make sure class is still happening. And to be safe, check every form of communication available to you: text messages, bulletin boards, Facebook, calling and harassing classmates to ask if they've heard anything, local newspapers, skywriting, smoke signals, etc. Likewise, if you find out anything, be sure to share the word with all your classmates via all the aforementioned communication venues (plus any others that I've missed). They'll be annoyed with the constant barrage of messages, yes, but not as annoyed as they would be if they showed up for class and the professor wasn't there.

-Always have money for vending machines. Always.

I'm sure there's more, but as previously mentioned...brain dead. Plus I'm pretty pooped. Today I was mostly off from work (had to do a presentation at a downtown high school) and I've spent the day doing heavy cleaning and running various errands. What happened to days off being fun? Anyone else remember that, or did I just imagine the whole thing?

Anyhoo, read the blog. Love the blog. Comment on the blog. Tell your friends about the blog.

And stay tuned!

It was a dark and lucrative night...

Quite often I say to myself, "self, you have got to figure out a way to get rich quick so you can pay off your debts, pay off your family's debts, travel around the world, create scholarships, cure cancer, hire an attractive manservant to do your bidding, etc."

(Kidding about that last one.)

(Maybe.)

Anyways, I confess I do think of get-rick-quick schemes more often than I probably should admit. The other day I think I might have come up with a winner.

Maybe I got this idea because it's Halloween...or maybe it was from being sick for the past week. When I'm sick I watch "Unsolved Mysteries" like there's no tomorrow AND I take NyQuil, which often leads to trippy dreams. At any rate, who knows why I came up with this thought, but I did...

Are you sitting down?

Wait for iiiiiiiiiit....

I have determined that the key to me making a fortune is to write...

THE NEXT GREAT HORROR FILM.

Think about it, people. We are in love with scary stuff and monsters these days. "Twilight" (featuring vampires and werewolves) (or at least some version of them) is all the rage. I walk down the toy aisle and see "Monster High" dolls. And everybody and their brother is always talking about the Zombie Apocalypse...how to survive the Zombie Apocalypse, what weapons they would take, how much eyeliner is necessary, how to apply sexy makeup while running from the zombies (fighting for your life is no excuse not to look your best, you know), etc.

So clearly, America loves to be scared. But I can't cash in on any of these monsters. Vampires and werewolves and zombies (oh my!)...they've all been done waaaaaaay too many times. I could pull a Stephenie Meyer and completely reinvent the classic monsters. But that would just get me in trouble with the purists. And it's still been done.

As I've watched Facebook lately, it's clear that people are running scared these days. But they're not afraid of the aforementioned monsters. No. They're afraid of the election year.

See where I'm going with this?

That's right...I need to make a movie about political monsters.

I've already thought of what my critics might say, so I'm going to be proactive and answer your questions now before you have the chance to ask them. Time for Q&A!

1) The Scooter, how would you make this movie without losing half your potential audience? 
Easy. I would make two movies: one with a Republican monster, one with a Democrat monster.

2) Don't you think that's a little odd?
I do, but apparently I'm not the first one to come up with this concept. I heard on the radio this morning while I was driving to work that the producers of the "Paranormal Activity" movies --- who just raked in another bajillion dollars with their fourth movie --- were concerned that their movies weren't appealing to the Latino market. So they have decided to focus their next movie on appealing to that market. Clearly, the horror movie industry sees the importance of scaring everyone equally.

3) How can you make these two movies without succumbing to horrible cliches and stereotypes? 
Pfft. Cliches and stereotypes are the heart and soul of movies. No one will bat an eye.

4) Do you even have any experience writing screenplays? Or any connections? 
Experience?! Pshaw! Amateur hour is all the rage. I'll just get discovered on YouTube or something. Only suckers go the traditional, hard working route.

5) Seriously? 
Okay, that was unfair. The hardworking route is noble and good and awesome.

6) How soon do you expect to write these screenplays? 
Wouldn't you like to know?

7) I do. That's why I'm asking.
Oh. Well, I suppose that's a valid point. I'ma gonna leave that up to you, readers. Which one do you want me to tackle first?

Tune in again for my first political screenplay. But first...I've gotta keep doing battle with this cold. Time for ice cream and "Unsolved Mysteries!"

*runs away humming UM theme music*