For My Mother

I emailed this to my mother with the following instructions:

Step 1: Print this out.

Step 2: Hang it up in your office

Step 3: Tap it disapprovingly when you get a patient with terrible teeth.

Step 4: Give them that disappointed look that every mother knows how to do.


nataliedee.com

Undue Truthfulness

Once, I got approached about writing a term paper for someone to attended Oral Roberts University.

I just could not do it. I have no explanation for why I couldn't. I don't exactly share Oral's view on Christianity, or Jesus even, and given the chance, I would give him one helluva piece of my mind.

But all the same - I just couldn't do it.

PS Is anyone else surprised I didn't make an Oral joke? I know I am!

Hello Tuesday! Linky-linky Loo Edition

First, before I go into my usual "I'm an idiot and here's a funny story why" format, I have a question:

Are any other bloggers getting these weird "dad joke" spam comments?  I get easily 6 corny jokes a day, and then right under the joke is an ad for cheap penis pills. It's totally weird.

Ok, say you are waiting for the Turkey to be done on Thanksgiving. Or, if you're like myself and Eric, waiting for the turkey I pre-made in the morning so we didn't have to wait for dinner to come around - here's some awesome lists to look at while you wait. The full and complete list (for those of you who feel like never being productive again) can be found here.

(Sorry Canadians, I know Canadian Thanksgiving already happened. Gobble gobble!)

I am printing this out and bringing it to my theology class next week. (Credit goes to Winona for finding this).

These three things make me laugh out loud every time I see them.

This made me laugh out loud. Go Mandy!

Also - this is my new favorite recipe.

Mistakes Were Made

I told my minister about this website at Bible study last Thursday. I did this for a few reasons:

1. I was told I should be proud of my accomplishments and let people know that I have written a book, and

2. If I appear on a certain nationally syndicated radio show (Ira! CALL ME!) then millions of people would know that I wrote about my minister in my book, and my minister wouldn't. And that hardly seems fair.

Ok, so let me address #1 first - yes, until recently, outside of the people closest to me, no one knew that I wrote a book. I know, I am insane. I just recently started telling people I work with about it. It almost feels a little foolish to say now, but I didn't want people I knew reading my book (or this site!)

And now, for why I am complete and total idiot:

Do you know what was on my site when I told my pastor its address? That one post I wrote about diddling Paris Hilton. I am pretty sure when I get to hell, the devil will just look at me and slowly shake his head in shame.

Not Quite An Adult

First things first, my breakfast this morning consisted of nachos, a coca-cola, green tea, skittles (only the red, green, and orange ones), and small gherkin pickles. Nothing says "new lease on life" like eating crap for breakfast!

Let the binge drinking commence! (Kidding mom, kidding.)

I hope everyone has a great weekend. I, for one, have had the weirdest week ever. I am looking forward to the weekend if, for no other reason, than it seems like I will get to sleep in and have some sort of normalcy to my life.

Here are the things that have happened in the last seven days:
1. I became some-what famous on the internet (and, might I add, without having to take off my clothes. My parents are proud!)
2. Someone anonymously donated money to Eric and myself. I would go into this further, but I have very little information about it so far. But - if the person who donated is reading this - THANK YOU. THANK YOU TIMES ONE THOUSAND. I don't care if it $5 or $5,000 - you cared enough to try and help us and I am eternally grateful.
3. I outed myself as a writer to my Pastor. Let's all say hello to my Pastor, since there is a good chance he is reading this right now. Hi! Please do not write a sermon about this! Thanks!
4. Doctors, good doctors might I add, thought I was dying less than 24 hours ago. It made this day pretty darned good. The sunset today was fantastic. It's like the sunset on February 12th of this year.

And now, because I feel I have not been entertaining enough, here is a comic:


marriedtothesea.com

See, if I didn't have health insurance, I would be pulling this in France...allegedly. :-)

Superpowers

I am about to become a superhero. I know you are wondering how this is going to happen. Allow me to elaborate:

I got irradiated yesterday. I got an injection of radiation and inhaled radiation. The doctors were trying to figure out if I had a pulmonary embolism. I did not, for the record.

So...what do you think my superpower will be? I am hoping for invisibility!

Seriously though, it was pretty scary. Especially since Eric wasn't allowed to be back there with me. (He got a sucker and I DIDN'T! WTF is that?)

This year has been strange, medically speaking. I spent a long time without medical insurance, so I am thinking maybe I am getting all these medical issues thrown at me because now I have insurance.

Or, you know, maybe I am meant to be a superhero. Yeah, let's go with that excuse!

Quick Hits

1. Have you ever been in a supermarket and seen that deli pack of the ends of the deli meats all cut up in odd shapes and wrapped up and on sale for $1? Eric bought me a cheese one of those! Happy anniversary indeed! (Eric: Uh...yeah...happy anniversary! No - wait, it's not Thanksgiving!)

2. I was chatting with my cousin about the possibility of going to medical school, and then giving back by doing Doctors Without Borders. He said that I shouldn't because, and I am paraphrasing here, I would no longer be funny. All my blog posts would be about stitching up orphans stubs after land mines blew their limbs off.

I laughed for a good twenty minutes about that, at which point Eric comes over to see what I am laughing about. He tells me that I am not cut out for being a doctor because, if for no other reason, a doctor is not allowed to laugh at a limbless war orphan. I don't know why, but I found this unbelievably funny. I am pretty sure this means I am going to hell.

3. In the supermarket, I wasn't paying attention and I was just following Eric with the cart, and while I am talking, I am swearing. Eric stops and looks at me, and we both turn directly to my right to see a wall of religious votive candles. I swore in front of so, so, so many Saints today. What level of hell do you suppose I will be in? I hope it's the level with all the super flamboyant gay men...

4. To balance my bad deeds with my good ones, I joined Be The Match. You should too. No, seriously, consider it. Look over the website, and seriously consider it. And if you decide to do it, let me know, so I can feel better about laughing at imaginary limbless war orphans.

Yes, I am aware my face will never appear on the side of a Votive Candle. Thank you for pointing that out.

Hotdogs

For the most part, I don't eat meat. Or, at least, I haven't in this past week.

Then I went down to my parents' house and had some pot roast on Sunday night. If I were striving to be a vegetarian, I just failed. But luckily - I wasn't - I'm just poor! Hooray! ...wait a minute...

Anyway, I go home, tuck myself in, read the Bible (hi mom!) and go to sleep.

And then I have one fucked up dream!

In the dream I am wandering around Manhattan in pajama pants and a sequined bra and everyone around me was dressed in a hotdog suit and eating raw bacon right out of the package.



I would like to point out that the Hotdog people were less friendly looking that this guy - probably because I was in New York.

Ok - so let me explain why this was such a weird dream:

Ask anyone - I hate wearing sequins. Yeah, I could focus on the whole "Giant Walking Hotdog people eating raw bacon on the streets of Manhattan" aspect of the dream, but the sequins part of the dream is really what threw me! The whole time, I am itching my chest because the sequins were digging into me, and I kept trying to find sunscreen because SHIT I was exposed to the sun, and all the store sold bacon grease.

And here is the really messed up part: I woke up and thought to myself "Shit, now I want a hotdog!"

That's right. Not bacon. A hotdog. Who says I don't love my fellow man?

Catholic School Ain't What it Used to Be

One of my female friends teaches at an all-boys Catholic school. I went out to eat with her over the weekend. We slide into our booths, get handed out menus, and I start to look for what I want to eat.

"Holy shit! Did you fingerbang Paris Hilton?" She yells (don't act like you didn't yell bitch) across the Denny's.

"Uhhh ...no?" I respond, totally unaware of what the heck she is talking about, but now every old man in the entire place is VERY INTERESTED in me and my apparent friendships with a certain debutante.

"Look at your fingers!" She responds, looking at me like I'm the crazy one.

I am silent for a second and then I ask "Did you just use the term 'fingerbang?'"

"Teenage boys man," she says, just slowly shaking her head.

And all I can think is "I cannot wait to blog about this! This story is going to generate some crazy ass search terms! Yesssss!"

Best Weekend Ever

(This isn't going to be a funny post. Sorry. This is more of a "how I am doing" post. But feel free to check out the links directly to the right of this post for some of my more hysterical moments.)

I know a lot of time on this site I bitch and whine and moan about how terrible this year was. And it WAS. Don't get me wrong - it has been a fucking horrific year.

But this weekend almost made up for it. Allow me explain.

Friday and Saturday I was in a religious retreat. Let me preface this by saying that I am not a crier. I can watch any chick flick and not cry. I can read Where the Red Fern Grows and not cry. What I apparently cannot do is go to this retreat and not cry. I was bawling the whole time.

And this retreat, despite me crying like a baby the whole time, was one of the best experiences of my life.

Then I got home, checked a few of my sites, and realized that all of a sudden I was very popular on the internet. So I did a quick google image search of "Enna Stein topless" and after that pulled up nothing (whew!) I started trying to figure out where it was all coming from.

Remember when I said I started writing letters to Ira Glass, and how I was a dorky, sad little girl because my dream was to be on This American Life? Well...Ira listened.

OK let's be realistic (I used to work in television, so I can almost guarantee this next point as fact) some INTERN listened. That intern posted my blog Letters to Ira Glass on the This American Life Facebook page.

This gave me something to celebrate. I hadn't celebrated anything in a year, so it felt good to go out on the town and tear it on up with Eric.

So, how was your weekend?

High School Friends

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Apparently, a bunch of people I went to high school with thought I had died. I wasn't so much insulted at the dead part of this story, but more of the how I supposedly died part of the story.

Cancer.

Like, wtf? Why can't I go out Evil Kenevil style - I ride a Harley through a flaming hoop and I just barely make it and then after my bike rolls to a stop a polar bear comes outta NOWHERE and mauls me to death. THAT is MY KIND of death.

I Am Not A Good Adult

DID YOU KNOW THAT IT'S NOVEMBER!

I only just found out because my friend recently asked me if I voted. I did not. I did not vote. There - I said it.

I always vote. Every stinking election - it's me and the elderly, standing in line, trying to act like we don't smell like urine, and secretly I am proud that for once I am pretty sure it's not me that smells like urine! Yesssssss!

Side note that's quasi-related in a really sad old-people-eating-dog-food-kind-of-way: Does dog food kind of sort of maybe look appetizing to you when you see it on a commercial too? It does? Good, I am glad I got to share this secret of mine with you, internet friends. I was eating dinner earlier tonight and I looked down at the tuna casserole I was eating and then looked up at this Beefy-Stewy-Dog-Food and I thought to myself "I would rather eat that. That's more attractive than what I am eating right now." That thought was NOT a commentary on Eric's mother's tuna casserole recipe. It's delicious. It just doesn't look as attractive as dog food. (Enna gets out a shovel and starts digging her own grave while talking.)

Way Too Early Still

But I am posting it anyway!

I Wonder What My Future Child Will Look Like?

Yeah, that's about right...

Onions

Ok, so I spent the day Googling this:

'If I open a jar of jalapenos in brine, can I cut up some onions and add them to the brine and make spicy brine onions?  And if this is possible, how long would it take for them to become brine-y and spicy?'

Eric came up behind me and saw what I was Googling.

"I think you're searching the wrong terms. Try typing in 'I secretly hate my fiance and would like to have explosive gas so bad that he leaves me out of self-preservation.' That should pull up what you want."

I should have Googled 'How to trick a man into a cage so you can poke him with sharpened sticks that have been dipped in jalapeno brine' after that.

Adultness!

This is a post I forgot to publish from a couple of weeks ago. Woopsie! Sorry folks, I can only think when wearing pants. Pants come off and all brain power goes out the window. Yes, yes, yes, I am aware there is a sex joke in there somewhere. And I am also aware that you are probably wondering why I am not wearing pants lately. A lady never tells - which is good news for you, since I am not a lady, which means I will tell you eventually. Assuming I remember to hit the 'publish' button.

I had a physical the other day, and I am proud to announce the following:

1. I was wearing clean underwear.

2. I got blood drawn - without incident!

3. I got an old school sucker with the white smiley face on it.

I am not so proud to announce the following:

1. I popped the sucker in my mouth before the exam was finished, which prompted the doctor to say "You know, people don't normally eat in here."

Ok now flash forward to today. I know, I shouldn't have told you to flash forward, it ruins the suspension of belief and I am dicking around with the space-time continuum and all.

Also, if I was really dicking around with time, I would just go back in time and tell a certain grandparent of mine that an African-American is president in 2009! And then I would throw in something like "And in 2010 - anal sex replaced regular sex, and you paved the way for this revolution!" And then watch that grandparent FREAK OUT when Barack is elected because they know for certain that in the very near future they will be leading the anal revolution.

Is it fucked up I have now totally forgotten what I originally wanted to write here?

Happy Monday!

Hello Readers

I should start by saying that I track the IP addresses of everyone who visits my blog. Not all obsessive-like or anything, but more for curiosity's sake than anything else. I don't really look at them unless I have a day where I have 10 times as many hits as I normally would - then I check out to see where the hits are coming from globally.

I have been getting quite a few hits from France lately. What's up France? Am I listed in a magazine over there or something?

Un grand bonjour va à nouveau mes lecteurs français.

Also, someone from Google regularly reads my blog. Hi new Google friend. I really like your products. No, you don't even KNOW how much I like your products. If I could wrap them and give them for Christmas, I would. THAT IS HOW MUCH I LIKE THEM. And, I am only writing this because I know there is NO CHANCE IN HELL of this ever coming true - but can I have a job there? I know I already HAVE one, and I like what I do and all, but I really, really would love to work at Google. It's like the NASA of the virtual world - every kid should dream about growing up and working there.

To the person who visited here from the Ukraine - YOU'RE MY FIRST VISITOR FROM THAT COUNTRY! I feel all special! You should too.

And finally - HI CHICAGO READERS. Boy oh boy, do you all visit my site from your places of work regularly!

Status Update

1. What were my niece and nephew for Halloween?



That's right - PEAS AND CARROTS! Best costumes ever!

2. Eric walked in on me using an elliptical trainer and eating an ice cream cone at the same time. He called me an "Enigma" for the rest of the day.

What?! Sometimes a lady just feels like being counter-productive.

3. I want to make T-shirts and sell them on this blog. They would say in really large letters "Enna Stein" and have my picture, and then under that it would have my obituary. That way, if I ever ran into one of my readers on the street I would have a legitimate reason to run away from them screaming. Currently my only reason is that I am anti-social and a bit of an asshole.

4. I threw up in storm trooper helmet once at a conference. SCORE ONE FOR THE REBEL ALLIANCE!

5. I made my Christmas list while drunk the other day. I will not lie - it included a used prosthetic leg. I wrote notes to myself next to it "Use this to store gold. Or umbrellas!" The very next thing I wrote on my list was "old timey umbrella."

How would one go about getting a used prosthetic leg, I wonder?

Well, that's it for me. Time for bed, and by bed I mean "searching ebay for a prosthetic leg."

Ladies, Go Here

This woman just summed up my entire diet.

She does exactly what I do. Megan honey, you are starting to freak me out.

Also, Secret Diary of a Call Girl is a GREAT show!

What Is Even Happening Here?

www.superpoop.com

NaNoWrMo is kicking my ASS folks. Are you doing this as well? If so YOU MUST BE INSANE, because I feel INSANE. Insane meaning "I am a fucking idiot for doing this. Why the hell did I agree to this? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME THAT I HATE MYSELF THIS MUCH THAT I AGREED TO DO THIS?!" Or, you know, something along those line.

Dear Facebook

Dear Facebook,

Please stop trying to peer pressure me into being social. I know, you are only trying to be helpful. I don't care. It comes off as peer pressure.

For instance, you keep telling me to write on my mother's wall. "Help make Maman's Facebook experience better." Really? Now I have TWO OF YOU guilting me into calling my mother? That ain't right, Facebook.

And let me tell you - I do not like this new feed. I just don't. I am sorry. I tried. I gave it a week. I could care less for it. For instance, you say this new feed is supposed to be "items I would find interesting." REALLY? It's not. I do not need to see people's Mafia Wars updates, nor do I need to see somebody's 450+ pictures of their kid's Halloween costumes (pictures from EVERY ANGLE, thank you.) but I would want to see pictures of my niece and nephew's Halloween costumes. But do you show me that? NOPE. I get Mafia wars.

Basically, what I am trying to say here Facebook, is I am pretty drunk, and therefore belligerent. Change it back already.

Sincerely,

Enna

PS GIVE US A DISLIKE BUTTON ALREADY. I need to acknowledge my friend's emo status updates but without actually going so far as expend the effort to actually make a comment.

_____________________________________________



On a completely unrelated note, this is the greatest booze I have had in a very long time. I should make a column in which I review booze while intoxicated. I should call it "From My Liver to Yours."

Yessssssssssss. This needs to happen.

Oh What Good Genes

If you know me in real life - please read this. Shit, print that out and put it on your fridge.

And now, for a conversation between myself and my (new) doctor:

Doctor: "You have a very good family medical history. Um, are you sure you're not adopted?"

Me: "No, we're sure. I am just what's known in nature as 'the runt.' If we were in the animal kingdom, my family would have left me to die right after birth."

Doctor: "Wow. Just...wow."

I can tell this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Dear Ira Glass

I really like NPR. I specifically like Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me and This American Life. I want to be on This American Life.

No, seriously, I know what I will say when I get on it.

And I have always wanted to work for NPR. I know, as a little girl I had really boring dreams.

ANYWAY, I started a blog to try to get myself onto This American Life. It's called Letters to Ira Glass. It will be updated every day (until I get bored and give up. Or I get to appear on TAL, whichever comes first.)