SoulMoxie

What Shopping At Target Really Means

Your guest post today comes from a dear friend of mine that wishes to stay anonymous. Not only is she hilarious, I must say that there are few things better than sitting in her backyard on a warm summer night eating red velvet cake and sipping vodka tonics. Red velvet cake and vodka tonics don't go together? Hmm. We didn't notice. And  the cake was more of  a mauve than a red.

 

 

“You’ll never believe what happened to me this weekend!”

“What?

“A dog peed in my purse!”

“No way!  Which one?!”

“The Marc Jacobs one.”

“Get out!”

“Uh-huh.  I mean, there were other purses there, like Target ones, and it wouldn’t be such a big deal if he had gotten those, but he had to pick mine.”

. . .

As the owner of several purses, some of the Target variety, I’m not sure how I feel about this particular overheard.  Granted, a dog taking a leak on your spendy handbag is a major bummer, not to mention totally disgusting, but last I checked, urine of any variety flowing into the receptacle where I keep things like lipstick, extra floss, and tampons officially qualifies as “a big deal.”  But maybe urine is more offensive to people who buy Marc Jacobs than it is to us lowly Target shoppers.  I mean, I’m probably a statistical anomaly, I bet most people so pathetic that they buy purses at Target actually like having pee-sodden pocketbooks.

 

 

 

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about.  I like to give my purse a little sprinkle before I go out so I can find it in the coat room after brunch.”

The Girl Who Would Be Sparkerly

Our guest poster today is a great friend of mine. She is the brilliant mind behind Sparkerly - which I refresh at least 50 times a day in hopes of receiving a side splitting laugh. And she makes damn good jam.

Have you ever said, "You know, I haven't seen so-and-so for a really long time.  I wonder what they're up to?"  Then, a little while later, you see that person like 3 times in a week and you remember that you didn't actually like them anyway and you were glad you hadn't seen them all that time?  Well, I'm kind of feeling the same way about 14-year-old Carrie.  I was talking about how my past is coming back to haunt me on my blog recently and then, in the trunk of my car, of all places, I find a journal I kept when I was 14.  It was a journal I was given at church and we were asked to write in it during sunday school at church and OH BOY it is absolutely scintillating!
 
For example:

Sept. 10, 1989
 
Tomorrow I start school again.  No more sitting around with nothing to do.  My day will begin by getting up at 5:00 or 5:30 a.m. (I've never tried that before), seminary, school, and so on.  It will be a great challenge for me, but I will accept it and do as well as I can.
 
School is easy for me, But some things trouble me.

 

The funny thing about this is the last sentence: School might have been easy for me, but spelling "easy" and "thing" weren't that easy.  In the original, I spelled them "esay" and "thig".  Also, my grasp of punctuation wasn't that great.  Who knew you didn't capitalize letters after a comma?  Not 14-year-old Carrie!  Rules of grammar and punctuation didn't apply to me, because I was just that rebellious. 

Oct. 15, 1989

 

Fasting isn't easy.  I'll be the first to admit that.  I never knew what I was fasting for before, so it was hard.  Tim told me that I should fast for myself after I told him I didn't really know what I was fasting for.  That makes it a lot easier. 

I'm sure you know what fasting is, but you might not know that Mormons do it once a month because it's easier to "feel the spirit" when you're starving to death.  If you know me at all, you know that I don't enjoy being without food for very long.  My husband will attest to the fact that I can turn from a complete monster when I'm hungry, to my beautiful and charming self just seconds after I am able to force as much food as I possibly can down my gullet.  So, fasting was always a huge deal for me.  I HATED it with the burning fury of a thousand firey suns.  Apparently, however, I felt a lot better about it after Tim told me to fast for myself.  That doesn't even make sense.  (And you probably could guess that I had the biggest crush EVER on Tim and I was convinced that we were going to get married and have a minivan full of babies.  In case you were wondering, we did not. )

Dec. 10, 1989

 

The present I want most is a watch or a sweater.  I want these things because I need them.

I still haven't learned the difference between "want" and "need."  This is why I have a cupboard full of fancy purses and too many shoes.  Also, who needs a sweater in San Diego? 

Feb. 11, 1990

 

I have NO idea on what to write about.  So, this week has been exciting!  HA!  What a laugh.  Sister Peterson's baby is sooooo cute!  I could hold him 4-ever.  I {heart} babies!  Especially cute ones liker hers!

It's so weird!  I wrote this exact paragraph as an entry on my blog just a few days ago!

March 25, 1990

 

I've learned to listen to people when they say things.  Once my friend asked me something about what she was talking about and got mad because I didn't know.

Obviously I didn't learn to listen to people, because I still do this all the time.  My husband will be talking and talking and after a while he'll ask me what he was saying and I'll be like, "Um... you were saying that you want to have sex?"  And he says, "No, but that sounds like a good idea anyway."  That tactic works pretty well with husbands, but I can tell you that judges do NOT like it.  Especially lady judges.  They start screaming about "bribery" and "solicitation" and somethingsomething... I don't really know because I kind of tune it out.

 

So, friends, there you have it.  A glimpse into the mind of the girl who would be Carrie.  Just be glad I left out all the parts about how I was sooooooo steamed that Sara didn't want me on her volleyball team. There were, seriously, like 3 pages full of that crap and, unlike the stuff posted above, it was totally boooring.  I bet you can't wait until I find my diary from when I was 11.  I know.  Neither can I.