I thought Ariel was a singing mermaid?!

You always hear statistics and data about how well marketing works on the minions/masses, but you always think, “psssh, I do what I want!” and think that it doesn’t apply to you.  Until you move to a foreign country and think to yourself after 5 minutes of sheer panic in the grocery store, “Where the hell is the Tide??  Or Gain?!  My clothes can’t get clean unless I buy a brand of detergent that I recognize!!”  And then I want Don Draper to magically appear and give me a sales pitch for Ariel Actilift  Excel Tabs so that I can stop sweating in the middle of aisle 8 because it’s more than obvious that I’m a foreigner, and I will inadvertently buy the one brand of detergent that will have suds spilling violently out of the washing machine.  (I would also want him around because he’s so beautiful that he would force me to use more intelligent/concise sentences than the one I just constructed)

I also whine a lot about the fact that my hall has a cleaning lady, and that I: can’t take naps after breakfast because that’s when she takes out my trash, and have to leave my room once a week so that someone can vacuum it for me.  Until I came home from a rather successful homework session and bam! my carpet was sparkling clean (I should ask her if Ariel is a good brand…).  Then I wanted to hug her, and apologize for the massive amount of trash she had to gather (I love when I start getting textbooks from Amazon, but hate that my trashcan was made to only hold 5 tissues).

I have also discovered that I am one of those people who actually enjoys getting older.  I only had one class this week, and am only one of three people who do not fall into the “undergrad” category of attendance…and 1/3 of that subgroup is the professor.  So, when I sat in class yesterday watching everyone else freak out about writing down every single word I realized…I was the only one actually making eye contact with the professor.  Which is good, as maybe I’ll be memorable enough to ask for a good letter of recommendation one day.  And awkward because, I’m the only one actually making eye contact with the professor…he really doesn’t have anywhere else to look while he’s talking about the death toll of Israelis in 1948.  So then I become just like the 18 year olds, and start writing frantically in my notebook/drawing in the margins because I want it to look like I have a purpose for not making eye contact with the professor.  There are other reasons I like getting older as well (like scoffing at: the 18 year old who was hella hungover from her crazy Tuesday night partying, the dude who was complaining to his friend that his mother is wanting him to come home for Christmas but he just can’t “do a 14 hour flight…I mean, I can’t go that long without a cigarette.  She just doesn’t get me”, or the innocent little lamb that asked me to watch her purse for her while she went to the bathroom…giiiirrrrrl, if I wasn’t so honest, I would rape and pillage your credit card), but I’ll leave those up to your imaginations.  Or just let you read the ramblings that just occurred in parentheses.

I realize that I still don’t have any pictures up of where I’m actually living (as I haven’t taken any yet), so I will give you these tidbits:

I also realize that I’ve already posted these on Facebook but people…I FOUND VAMPIRE TEETH AND A WOODEN POSTCARD UNDERNEATH MY RADIATOR!!  I don’t think you are fully appreciating this.  Jenn thinks I should be Quail Vampire for Halloween, and I decided that I will add the plastic spoon as my wand.  Flaw.less.

I will take suggestions on what objects I should leave for the next resident…

UPDATE:
I just got done with my first load of British laundry (I like putting “British” in front of all mundane activities to make them sound more exciting), and I wanted you to know: Ariel Actilift Excel Tablets and Comfort fabric softener rock.  My clothes smell amazing…and even though they’re still a little damp after an hour in the dryer (clothes should never take longer than 45 minutes to dry…), I did not flood the laundry room with bubbles, and I have clean clothes again!  ::freeze frame jump::

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4 thoughts on “I thought Ariel was a singing mermaid?!

  1. Hm…I tried to comment yesterday, but it doesn’t look like it worked. So my apologies if it ends up a duplicate 🙂

    We are so opposite sometimes my wise Watson. I would so give anything to be that hungover 18 year old, on a weekday, in CLASS! (The reason SEH’S frantically taking notes is so that she can have something to focus on to keep her head from spinning and puke from spewing out:) ) That may also stem from my lovely 13 hour days and 7 day work weeks that I’ve been so lucky to fall into :/

    And, I’m very jealous you have a cleaning lady – for FREE! I had to fire mine after only one day!

    And after reading what/how I’ve just written, people are probably wondering how YOU, so smart and witty, could be friends with ME. So to answer that question for them: I like to think it’s because it’s so entertaining to see me desperately hold onto younger days in a Chelsea Handler kind of way (the so brutally honest it’s funny part).

    • Oh my goodness-you would make an excellent Chelsea Handler! I smell a new career on your horizon. And then you can drink at work 😉

      It is clearly obvious why we are friends: you are highly entertaining, have the same love of adult beverages that I do, and while it may *appear* that I’m smart and witty, the Internet doesn’t show that I have no idea how to dress myself. Which is where you come in 😉

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