Recreational Ridicule

If you have to make fun of someone’s hobby, make sure it’s not awesome according to everyone else. Did that make sense? No? Here’s a hypothetical. Let’s say that I have an awesome hobby, like competitive eating or something. Let’s also say that there are a couple of insufferably awful women (of COURSE they’re women) at work who go out of their way to tell me how stupid, evil, and awful they think competitive eating is.

Being mean to me for being good at competitive eating is much like ridiculing a football player for being good at playing football. I’m good at it, I have a blast doing it, I get free food, my friends and family have a great time cheering me on, and I have awesome stories to tell. Unlike Mr. Football Player, however, I don’t have to endure hours of practice a day, deal with a jerk coach, go to a gym, or wear an athletic supporter.

Awesome stats:

1) The Vending Machine Challenge: This one was big on Wall Street a few years ago. The challenge? Eat one of every item in the vending machine: a bag of M&Ms, a 3 oz. bag of Cheez-Its, a huge iced cinnamon roll, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, mini Oreos, a Butterfinger bar, a bag of peanuts, etc., etc., etc… 25 items in total, in the course of a business day. (Sounds easy, right?) Well, 7845 calories later, I had crushed the challenge. (Ask me about what happened afterward if you’re curious and you have a strong stomach.)

2) A two-pound burger: The challenge was to see how quickly one could eat the burger and the huge bun. I attempted it first just to see if I could get it down. No problem. I ate it (while conversing with friends) in 18 minutes. Some coworkers challenged me to eat it in 12 minutes or less. I accepted, and in front of an audience of a dozen people, I finished the two-pound burger in 6 minutes and 33 seconds (absolutely destroying all previous records, thankyouverymuch).

3) A one-pound burger. Twice. The challenge was to eat a 16 oz. burger (after cooking–it’s 22 oz. before!) with a half-pound bun. Easy. …Well, I ate two. Boom. I’m the only woman who has ever done that at the restaurant that offers the challenge.

So… if you have to make fun of me, make fun of:

a) my huge feet (size 11)

b) the fact that I can’t reliably pronounce the word “February”

c) my inability to turn left on a catwalk when runway modeling

d) the fact that I don’t know how to apply eyeliner

e) how ridiculously excited I get about new socks

f) my undying love of SpongeBob SquarePants

I mean, really…

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Disgruntled in December

If you have to be filled with the holiday spirit, would you please keep it inside until you just explode into a cloud of glitter that sings the Bing Crosby versions of everyone’s favorite carols?

I won’t say I hate Christmas. I really don’t. I just hate virtually every single thing that goes along with it. I saw a woman with a Santa hat in a restaurant the other day, and even though it had “Bah Humbug” embroidered on it, I wanted to punch her in the face. I hate cold weather and Christmas cookies and chocolate and snow and ice and carols played obnoxiously loudly in the mall. I hate long lines at grocery stores and those ridiculous reindeer antlers people put on their cars and peppermint everything and feeling obligated to get gifts for coworkers who never give anything back. I hate that I can’t say “merry Christmas” (or even “happy holidays” anymore) without sounding racist or religionist or pissing off some stupid atheists. I hate the obligatory workplace potluck where women are expected to bring enormous crock pots full of meaty goodness, but then they’re judged if they eat anything more than two small servings of salad and one tiny piece of ham. I hate that church services in December have to have a watered-down, peppermint-scented, jazz flute-filled message in order to appeal to the masses. I hate that Diet Coke cans have snowflakes on them for six straight weeks. I hate ugly Christmas sweaters and the people who wear them. I hate that I can only buy decent summer sausage (irony?) in December. I hate the huge holiday group texts that people send in place of actual sentiment. I hate that people only remember to be nice to other people when they think that Santa is watching in the last 1/12th of the year. I hate that people will eat like it’s a sport all through December and then magically rediscover physical fitness on January 1st and I’ll have to tolerate weight loss challenges and thinspiration quotes and stupid interactions (omg Jessica we totes have to go to crossfit on Monday fo realz lol no rly).

*sigh* I like some stuff, I guess…

What do I like? Glitter. Sparkles. Christmas trees. I like watching National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation until I can’t stand it anymore. I like the previously-mentioned (and stupidly-named) summer sausage. I like fires in fireplaces and warm blankets and whipped cream all over everything. I like candles and fuzzy socks and all of the sales that start on December 26th. I like being the only customer shopping on New Year’s Day because all of you idiots are hung over at home.

Most of all, however, I like that December is only one month long. So merry Christmas or happy holidays or have a pleasant winter or whatever, I guess.