Crossing my fingers the stereotypes are true

Wednesday, July 30, 2008 |

You know how some people think ......

1) All Latinos instinctively know how to Salsa
2) All Italians are awesome cooks
3) All tall people can play basketball

Well.....I just got an ABBA karaoke CD. My life is so stinkin busy that I haven't had the opportunity to play with it yet, but I am hoping that for once I can reap the rewards from all my Swedish Ancestry. There has to be some benefit to growing up with fine blonde hair and a father who eats kipper snacks. I think I deserve to be able to sing ABBA better since they are my people so to speak.

Only time will tell.

A Gift for my Sarcastic Sisters

Monday, July 28, 2008 |

Literally this blog makes me (almost) wet myself. Go back to some of the first posts to truly understand it.

For so very many reasons this week, I am annoyed with people whose lives revolve around judgements based on money and looks.

Disclaimer: I realize I wear a new outfit or shoes like every other week at church and that I go overboard with makeup and hair. This being said- they really don't matter all that much to me - I just think fashion is fun. I mean hello peeps? I did wear the same 2 super stained outfits for a year and half in argentina. I just appreciate my ability to wear different stuff now and I am taking full advantage of it. In the manner of a broke girl. Moving on.

So, it is slightly frustrating to me to shop for houses online (just for fun) and have the everyone around me chime in cute or not while one person says- I can't believe you're looking at crappy houses like those. Gee thanks! That makes me feel great about myself. Since my life(and the lives of all your other fellow co-workers) bores you so...... we can all go look for uber-expensive houses for you. YAY! Fun times. I am sorry that we shabby members of the rest of the world cannot make demands that the countertops have to be granite, the pool huge with space for water sports and a side yard for your herb garden, there be a "grand entrance" staircase and room for 3 cars and a boat. It must be a tough life. And it really makes us all have sympathy when you whine about the difficulty of picking out this dream mini-mansion from among all the ones where the previous owners had bad taste in paint color. Such a tragedy. When I am ripping down 7o's wood paneling and wallpaper and de-popcorning my future home's ceiling I will be sure to break out my violin and play a sad tune for the painters you hire to make your home all beige again.

Ok, Round Two-shout out to all the shallow men out there. Who knew that being visibly in front of people at church this week would inspire the interest of PEOPLE I ALREADY KNOW? There is nothing I HATE more than guys who you are introduced to like 5 times who won't give you the time of day as a living breathing human because their lives involve one interest only- The Flavor of the Week. There are a ton of people I really don't care to ever be friends with because they are such jerks when you are not in the Top 3 that day. You can tell that they are being coerced to even respond with words as a friend introduces you. Usually they turn their head to the side and don't even look to see who you are as you are being introduced. I am always super disgusted. So anyways, this week's particular loser I have met on 4 occasions now. (against my will I might add)I have actually been at a dance with him and another male friend and stood there and talked for like 3 hours. I could tell 100% at the time that I couldn't stand him and thought to myself- it annoys him that I am even here alive and breathing and not a hot 18 yr old. Must be frustrating to have to talk to the non-beautiful people on a day to day basis when your shallow-meter is so sensitive. So apparently I must have been looking Mighty Fine yesterday because after church he runs up out of nowhere to introduce himself and say How could we have never met before?!!- please tell me all about yourself now!!! Because I am a huge chicken I just said hi and gave a quick response before walking off. In my head this is how the conversation went.

"Hello. We've never met and I don't know how that can be. I'm ______"

"Hello _____. I would tell you my name but I've already given it to you like 5 times so I don't think it's worth telling you again. "

"Seriously? I'm so sorry. Just tell me again because I'm bad with names."

"Actually you're bad with people in general. You're only good with hot girls. And they don't particularly like you or you wouldn't have to learn a new one's name every week."

So anyways, this is my beef. I don't care if men are visual creatures. Whatever. I could care less. But PEOPLE should be nice to PEOPLE. Then when your eyes are opened suddenly to someone being hot to you, you can say " look amazing this week. I've never seen you this way before. We should do something." and not "Ummm hi..... I don't think we've met." If you have met and you don't remember it, you are starting off in a hole you may never dig yourself out of. Jerks. Seriously. I wonder if on the inside he knows he has been introduced and he really thought to himself that acting like we've never met was the intelligent way to start off if he couldn't remember my name. Major points could have been won back if he had opened with "I know we've met before a bunch of times, but remind me of your name again- I just wanted to tell you you looked pretty today. "

See. Is that so hard? Although in reality -why am I even trying? These people wouldn't be reading this blog as it has no pictures.

And I Quote - Potty Humor.


I know this is Alison's thing but I heard a real gem this week.

"Pooing is my greatest pleasure in life right now. The only thing I do that is both good for me and makes me feel good. " -Anonymous.


For any poor soul who doesn't know this- take note- you will help yourself out. Use this blog as a reference guide or survival manual if ya will. First recognize something.

We are Southern People. We do things a different way. The right way.

Now that we have made that clear, allow me to give you a lesson that might save your life one day.

Let me preach to you .........the Gospel of Meat.

What is a Cookout? I think universally this term denotes cooking outside. Hot dogs and hamburgers might be involved.

Helpful Tip - (if only hot dogs are going to be cooked you might want to call it a weenie roast(if you are secure enough if your manhood) or just say- We're going to have hot dogs. So simple and easy. Both are a safe bet to prevent the irate hamburger lover's disappointed wrath)

A cookout is something enjoyed around the nation for special events and for cheap dining for family nights. Whee! We're outside. Whee! It smells like something was burning! We have accomplished a caveman-esque task of human life. We burn meat. Make fire. Grrr. (Chest thump)

Now- pay real close attention here Yankees and save yourself a whole world of trouble.

What is a Barbeque?

A Barbeque is an event where real cuts of meat will be served. Real meat. At this point you might be thinking to yourself " Miss Erica, ground beef is real meat that's been ground to itty-bitty pieces!!" That may be nice for you in the North but down here I expect brisket when I attend something someone calls a barbeque. Possibly grilled chicken, maybe ribs, or steak, or sausage. There dang well better be some type of quality real still-in one-piece meat or blood might be shed. And it might be yours. Or your kin's. It behooves those who have been warned to warn their neighbor.

I have literally gone home in tears because some unknowing fool announced a barbeque and I showed up to hot dogs. It shouldn't happen. I lose my cool and start hitting things when I expect brisket and get Oscar Mayer parts. Heaven help us when I have a craving for brisket that gets thwarted!!!

If you can't put barbeque sauce on it- you can't call it barbeque. That should be simple enough.

I have lived in the South for the past 25 years and let me tell you what. If I want a freaking hot dog I will drive through Sonic for a Foot-long Coney. Can you recreate that genius combination of chili and melted cheese and fresh bun for me at your "BBQ"- I think not. And if so will you serve it to me with a Cherry Limeade or an Ocean Water? I rest my case. So ......if y'all are gonna cook and eat outside you best do it right. With real meat.

I honestly can't understand why hot dogs are worth the effort of outdoor cooking outside of camping. If you're gonna go outside and you can keep your meat refrigerated- use the real stuff. Do yourself and everyone a favor. If you've gotta be a cheapo- call it what it is and prevent your appearance on the next edition of COPS as the victim of the skewering.

I'm just trying to help you out. Bless your hearts. It makes me feel good to lift y'all from the bonds of ignorance. Don'tcha feel freer? Do ya minds feel enlightened with wisdom?

Now go home and apply this in your daily lives and trouble me no more with your dang hot dog barbeques.

There are so many reasons I don't deal with the paparazzi

Saturday, July 19, 2008 |

As a little girl(very little) I had a dream that one day I would be rich and famous and wear pretty dresses on TV. Much like Vanna White who was the epitome of a live Barbie to me. What a dream job! Spelling AND Taffeta/Sequins.

It didn't take me long to figure out that although fame usually brings money- it is also a huge hassle. I believe that I realized that while watching Madonna get mobbed by fans in the early lace glove/bustier phase. People were desperately seeking her apparently.

Since then I have had moments where I think to myself I would love to act or do something comedic or maybe musical onstage, but I am aware enough to know that a) fat chance and b) if you succeed, your whole life changes and may truly start to suck. I mean hello- how many paparazzi does Brit back into every week? It's a total hassle.

Recently I was looking up a certain mormon semi-celeb from the RM etc. who I was pretty sure I saw on a beer commercial. Turns out I was right. I found out this important info by googling him and finding a bajillion fellow mo's chiming in with their opinion about him going to hell or just shocked in general. I was also pretty shocked. But I was more appalled(yes appalled Sam) by the horror of imagining what would happen if every decision in my life became a topic for public judgemental semi-religious debate. YIKEYS. The guy apparently had no money or other work options. I am not sure I would make the same decision, but having a family to support and no money is hard. I've never been in his place. I then thought of so many other mormons ripped apart in the public forum. IE- Julie from the Real World back in the day. I was so jealous and sure I would have been a much more fun mormon for MTV consumption. And poor Marie Osmond. Her family problems, her weight. Who would want the public to pick that apart? Ug. And what about all the other mo's on DWTS? I am all up in Julianne and Danny's Hough's love lives. Those poor people.

In conclusion, being famous sucks. From the many pictures of me with muppet face/ sucked in "evil" cheeks, to the bad videos, I shudder to think of how bad life could be if I were famous. All of those awful pictures they take of celebs at LAX after a late flight. The opportunity to buy ridiculously expensive clothes that will be out of fashion two weeks later. Being put in the "Who Wore it Better" column where they can tell me that 99% of people think Sienna Miller looks better in the same dress. As if I needed them to tell me that. Having my weight talked about. I would have to kill people.

Fame just is not a dream of mine. How on earth do people deal with it? It is a mystery to me.

In honor of my upcoming landmark birthday- I decided to honor myself with a photo montage of my greatness. As I considered and pondered over the many milestones of my life and what has made me who I am today, it seemed the only thing lacking in my future True Hollywood Story is a person to share my perfect life with. It is a baffling and tragic mystery why I am not as yet married. Maybe as we take a nostalgic look back, we will solve the puzzle......

And so I present to you........Erica

1) Possibly the first place I went wrong was in taking childhood pics at Kinderfoto where I was exposed to toxic pink radiation. There is a whole generation of people who might have children with two heads. Seriously. We're all gonna be pink in the great annals of History (Wikipedia) when we are dust and the future a mere memory.

2) As far as this picture goes, I have always been a kind of a summer beach baby. It is hard to explain my appearance on Toddlers Gone Wild. I freely admit it. I think I had one too many Otter Pops and I was convinced at the time that reality TV was an avant garde form of art and not exploitation.

3) I have always been pretty much a money-grubbing opportunist. Imaginary characters were the least of the people I have charmed for cold hard cash or bling.
4) For a brief period of time I was a bandit. A peace loving bandit, but a bandit nonetheless.

5) In order to change my ways after my years of criminal activity, I became a superhero. I am still occasionally called upon to save people and fight the forces of evil using the red knee highs of justice. This obligation of mine leads to much less free time than I would like, even now.

6) I have been surgically enhanced, but it's so subtle I thought no one would notice. Men like girls with curves right?

7) Ok my teeth are not perfect little Chiclets, but at least they're straight. To my credit- you'd never think I was British.

8) I might have an unnatural love of cake and chocolate. And yes I did wear the occasional bow. That looks like my head is being attacked my a vampire bat. I realize now that was a fashion mistake.

9) I lost my possibility of a modeling contract with Teen Magazine over that love of cake and chocolate. And insisting on wearing jelly bracelets at the shoot. Come on, a girl needs accessories!I had the waif look down far before Kate Moss ever did.

10) In desperation at the loss of my dream career as a teen model, I became a little.......well...needy and .....OK I'll say it...desperate. Even if I advertised myself a Russian Mail Order Bride, I never went through with it OK? I have some pride.

11) Laurels activities are not my fault. Their creepiness and forced participation is evident in my eyes I think. And if men see me in this hot wedding dress and don't wish they were the lucky groom......well....then...maybe I can blame my advisor for her plan completely backfiring. It is not at all off-putting that I have temple wedding pics with no wedding. Not at all.

12) I just love costumes and especially holidays. And home cooked food. Recent new stories have probably helped to promote men's deep desires for a wife with poofy hair and a bonnet and gingham dress. I am ready to be your pioneer wifey-poo!

13) Maybe I have gone overboard with my hairstyles a bit. Men can be intimidated by a high maintenance beauty routine. As you can see from my cousin's face, a lengthy regimen can make you start your day off a bit grumpy.

14) I might have the bird flu. I'm just sayin.

15) I started off in life with some hard core habits. Books and the beer are hard ones to kick my friend. A man would only come second or third really in my priorities.

16) Still drinkin the hard stuff years later. Men don't like it when you take the last one. Ahh root beer memories....if only I remembered them.

17) My moustache is more luxurious and full than many people would expect. I have tried waxing and bleaches, but I think I am just destined to be a just little bit Magnum PI. It's OK. I have detective skillz too. The mustache and crime solving genes are linked. My grief over the mustache gets even out with my joy over a good mystery solved.

18) I try to be a good cook. It's just so hard! Maybe it's a natural gift for some women, but as many times as I try to bake for men, things just turn out yucky. It did not look like that when Giada made it. Where did I go wrong?

19) I am a Gryffindor. There appears to be a really high mortality rate with Gryffindor men, so the male/female ratio is now wayyy off since the war with Voldemort ended. I suppose I could date people from other houses, but seriously. Seriously. Can you imagine me and a Hufflepuff? It's just not right. I'd rather kiss a dementor.

20) I have a huge time commitment and travel schedule with my band. Maybe when we stop touring I'll have more time. That's what I always tell myself.

In conclusion, my singleness is a seriously disturbing and captivating mystery. It's right up there with Area 51 and the disappearance of the Maya or Amelia Earhart. Men have no clue what they are missing.

Or maybe they are afraid of trying to get wit all this babe-lisciousness and being rejected. It is a real and valid fear. As a former Model/Superhero/Rocker I do tend to leave hearts strewn along the road in my wake. Heartbreaker has always been one of my favorite songs. Maybe one day I will stop using men like kleenex and just find that one special one. My lobster. My other half. Until then I shall wait patiently. I mean I have all the time in the world. I may have tons of student debt and my eggs may be rotting and turning to dust inside me (thanks Arthur) but at least I still have my looks.