The Scene In Which I (Don't) Got?

As someone who has worked in the marketing industry, not to mention someone who dates a Cute Boy currently working in that industry, I'm a sucker for a good slogan.

Here's where I would share an example of a good slogan with you, if I could think of one at the moment. But I can't. Because all I really want to do is talk about how freaking sick I am of the "Got Milk?" rip-off campaigns that are constantly invading the advertising world, with little regard to the fact that this slogan was new, exciting, and innovative MORE THAN TEN YEARS AGO.

Back then "Got Milk?" was cute and quirky and short and sweet and witty and original and now it is none of those things, NONE, people, and I would like the universe to cease and desist on any new "Got?" campaigns, immediately.

Got milk? Got teeth? Got faith? Got hope? Got college? Got love? Got veggies? Got vegan? Got beer? Got pot? Got money?

I've been noticing the overuse of this phrase for awhile now, as I'm sure many of you have. The sudden need to blog in a rant-like state about it now maaaaaay or may not have something to do with the fact that I was cut off on the highway today by an a-hole with a "Got Hope?" sticker plastered to the back of his car.

That did it.

"I do NOT have hope!" I snarled at the offensive driver. "I do NOT have hope that you are going to learn to drive ANYTIME soon, I do NOT have hope that I'm going to make it home without being rear-ended or sideswiped by some other a-hole on this freaking highway, and above all, I do NOT HAVE HOPE THAT ONE DAY SOON, SOMEONE IS GOING TO INVENT AN ADVERTISING SLOGAN THAT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH WHAT I DON'T "GOT"!!!!!!"

Deep breaths.

The sad part is, the "Got?" campaigns, because they are quirky and short, inherently leave the door open for products and personas as far apart as beer and President Obama to adapt them. Not so much the case with popular longstanding campaigns "It's What's For Dinner," or "The Other White Meat," which manage to be both quirky yet relevant to only a small series of products (or so it would seem, anyhow).

More deep breaths.

Thus endeth my rant on why you'll never see me parading around in a "Got Milk?" t-shirt or, heaven forbid, adapting the slogan for business use and handing out "Got Flowers?" cards at events.

After all, I do......Got Creativity.

The Scene In Which I Confess To Being An Eating-Eavesdropper

One of the things that my friends come to realize about me is that, as I put it to Cute Boy today, "I have a nasty habit of being altogether too concerned with the conversations of dining pedestrians."

I think I meant dining peers.

Regardless.

Confession time: I am an eating-eavesdropper.

I can't help it.

It just happens.

Because no matter how interesting your own eating companion is, there always comes a point in the meal when you aren't talking because you are, well, eating. Or, if you are me, you spend a ridiculous amount of time working in various Starbucks and lamenting the fact that you have given up caffeine (which is a story for another day) and occasionally your mind wanders away from your work.

And you hear the MOST INTERESTING THINGS.

For example.

Right now I am sitting across the table from two college-age gals who are studying for an upcoming nursing exam.

Girl 1: "Ok, let's look at scenario 2."

Girl 2: "Ok. The patient is in his 50s and suffers from hallucinations that occur after seizures. He also frequently faints."

Girl 1: "So........would that be a medical diagnosis or a psychological diagnosis?"

Girl 2: "Ummmmmmmmmmmmm..........I think medical?"

Can I just say, I worry a bit for the future of the medical profession.

I kind of love these little moments in time when I get to glimpse someone else's day to day life. Today Cute Boy and I were having lunch at Panera and we overheard the table next to us talking about how life would be less stressful for "them," after "the baby comes before Christmas." They were an older couple, and I found myself wondering more about the story. Were they adopting a baby? Were they about to be grandparents? What on earth could be so bad that it would make a pregnancy more stressful than having a NEWBORN WAILING CHILD?? (This is where our own table conversation went to.)

But alas, I am destined to never know the answers to the questions I overhear. Did stay-at-home-mom's husband decide to take that job? Did gym-bunny pick a new Pilates mat? Is Costco really cheaper than Wal-Mart for toilet paper? Because, you see, as interesting as these conversations are and despite the fact that they are occurring in public places, there's an unspoken rule among eating-eavesdroppers that you do. not. acknowledge. them.

THAT would just be weird.

The Scene In Which Cute Boy (L)Earns His Name

Many of my faithful followers (all SIX of you now......woooo!) know that I've been spending a lot of time back and forth from Indy to Chicago this past month, and will be continuing to do so for the next couple weeks.

This weekend, instead of making the trek back to Indy, I stayed in Chicago to dog- and house-sit for my parents while they were away. Now, don't get me wrong, spending a weekend with their two pups and my little guy is a pretty pleasant thing to do, but because Cute Boy decided to make the drive up here to visit, I was pumped.

It was a great, fun, relaxing, awesome weekend. We ate deep-dish pizza, took the pups for a long walk on a gorgeous fall day, hung around downtown on Saturday, went to Field Museum and saw the "Real Pirates" exhibit, ate at a fun restaurant, saw Jersey Boys, slept in and made yummy Sunday breakfast, and even caught some of the game before Cute Boy had to head home. I even introduced him to a childhood staple that he'd never seen before: The MOLD O' RAMA.

Segue to: A Random Side Note.

Mold-O-Rama's, if you haven't been so lucky as to have seen one, are amazingly awesome toy-making machines that make you a cheap monochromatic hollow plastic toy RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU. You simply insert your $2 (and don't even get me started on how it used to be $.50!) and the machine, in all of it's 1950's glory, revs to life, pumps liquid plastic through tubes into a mold that pushes together, then releases to show off YOUR NEW TOY as a nifty pusher-thing deposits it into a vending-like bottom, where you gingerly pick it up whilst trying to burn the least amount of skin off of your fingers and hands.

And because Cute Boy is cute, and therefore understands and enjoys my nostalgic desires, we made 2.

Which turned out to be a good thing, really, because we left one in the cab on the way home. If anyone finds an orange stegosaurus plastic molded toy in the back of a Chicago cab, please let us know.....we miss Stegi.

But other than that devastating loss, it was a great weekend, and Cute Boy left this afternoon to return to Indy.

And apparently decided to catch up on reading my blog.

And apparently hadn't read the August post in which I first named him Cute Boy. Because.....

5:42PM Cute Boy Cell: "I'm anonymously and I think affectionately known as CUTE BOY to your followers??!!"

So, to Cute Boy: Yes, yes that is your moniker, yes it is an affectionate term, and I'm glad that you like it.

And to all else: Yes, Cute Boy is indeed cute, for many of the reasons you might already guess and for many more you may not already know, and very probably for many that I don't already know. So even though it might embarrass him a little, here's just a couple of the reasons for the name.

Because in addition to being well, cute (c'mon girls, he's blond, blue-eyed and athletic..... fellow glasses-sporting brunette bookworms of the world, can I get some applause??) Cute Boy also makes me laugh. And he likes to hold my hand (ok, sometimes). And he is just the right amount of a sarcastic a** sometimes, and a totally nice guy the rest of the time. And he likes my dog. And he drives to Chicago to visit me. And he thinks that I'm adorable and endearing even when I'm doing things that are totally not adorable or endearing like tripping over my own two feet AGAIN and headbutting the nearest inanimate object being a little clumsy. And because he thinks it is great that I want to do things like make Mold-O-Ramas to commemorate a fun day together, and because he really understands that that's what I'm doing when I want to do silly little things like that.

And that, folks, makes him Cute Boy.

The Scene In Which.......I Return. Apologetically.

Tonight I got an incredibly nice text from a friend of mine who I haven't seen in awhile. Being the super nice friend that they are, they noticed that we hadn't spoken, and took time out of a busy day to shoot a hello my way- or more specifically, a "Hey, you doing ok, haven't seen ya in awhile."

Problem.

I have no earthly idea who the text was from. Either they got a new phone, or it's someone that I accidentally deleted, or it's someone who gave me their number but I just never entered it, or a myriad of other possibilities. Actually scratch that. Those are mostly the only possibilities.

Regardless.

I felt bad. Here was a friend who took the time to reach out to say hey, and I had to respond with a "I'm REALLY sorry, but who is this?" text.

I haven't heard back.

It's like our generation's version of a Dear John letter. The Dear John text.

"Dear John I dltd u from my ph. pls dont txt me. l8r."

Wait a sec......I was going somewhere with this. Come back......come back.......come back.

Oh right! Apologies.

Because.................yeah. It's been awhile.

Sorry.

And let's be honest- I know it hasn't been all that long, but it's been longer than usual, and for that I apologize. After all, this blog is faithfully read by at LEAST five whole people, and even though I've been routinely waking up not remembering which city I'm in kind of busy lately, I've been neglectful.

Here's a glimpse at what I've been doing while I haven't been blogging.

DRIVING. Driving is a big one. Been logging lots of miles. Over 2000 of them since September 7, to be exact. Why? Because I've been.....

LEARNING. Yep. Back to school. I've been taking a class up in Chicago two days per week and driving back and forth on a weekly basis. I chose Chicago because I get to pop in and see my family weekly, I've gotten to catch up with some friends, and it lets me maintain the myth to my Indy flower clients that I've, um, actually had any formal training prior to this date.

NAPPING. Because all that driving and learning makes me sleepy.

SPENDING TIME WITH PEOPLE IN REAL LIFE. Because being gone a lot, even for good reasons, means- well- it means you're gone a lot. So I've been spending time in both places trying to make up for being gone with the people I'm leaving behind each week. And thanking my lucky stars that they are all wonderful, supportive -insert other praising attributes here- people.

In other news, I finally got my Skip-It. And I stopped drinking coffee. And I made a second trip to Fair Oaks Farms, and this time I didn't flash anyone.

It's been a good couple of weeks.

And I promise to keep you better updated on the next couple!