tangent twenty-two: these are a few of my least favorite things.

Hey kiddos.

How is everyone doing today? I am in a good mood except for the fact that it's Sunday and I haven't done nearly enough work. That's usually how Sundays go. I freak out because I haven't done enough work, which is really just another form of procrastination. And tomorrow I will be freaking out even more because of my freak out today. It's just how it is. I've forgotten what a weekend is. Since I only have classes on Mondays and Tuesdays my weekend consists of getting sleep on Tuesday night and then freaking out Wednesday about how much work I have left to do. To clarify, the freaking out happens in my head. I do not rip off all my clothes, run around the city, and scream absurd religious convictions to no one in particular. Enough of that. I can tell you're already bored. It is finally sunny in Atlanta and that makes me happy; however, lately it has been grey, soggy, and rainy. But it's been bad rain. Spitty rain. Spitty rain is precipitation consisting of quasi-droplets that feel more like God's cold spit on your face and less like a well needed earth hydration. So until today I have been playing the role of Eeyore: gloomy, grey, and sans my tail (which is true because I'm a human and was born without a tail. I think). It's kind of weird that today is sunny because it would be more fitting for today's tangent to be written on a spitty rain day. It's just weird. It's not ironic, which brings us to today's tangent. My least favorite things. In no particular order.

1. Misusing the word, "ironic". I blame Alanis. She had no business writing a song about coincidences and referring to them as irony.
2. Juicy Couture velour tracksuits. Victoria's Secret Pink line also applies.
3. This season's Real World cast (Real World: DC). MTV, could you have found six strangers any lamer? Bring back Hawaii.
4. Bathroom stall doors that open inward.
5. Music snobs. Go ahead and put hipsters here too.
6. Fern spores. Lots of small things in groups make me extremely uneasy.
7. Cats.
8. Houses that smell like dog. And the people who own these houses and have become immune to the stench.
9. Bad singers on American Idol who get record deals.
10. The Progressive lady.
11. Phantom farters. Also known as Fly-bys.
12. People who tag themselves in facebook pictures.
13. Adults using the word "tummy" when a child is not present.
14. Fat Luke Wilson trying to sell me AT&T.
15. Putting liquids in quart-sized bags before boarding an airplane. What the hell does this prevent?
16. Girls who talk like babies when they're on the phone with their boyfriends.
17. When people act like they're the most surprised they've ever been when I tell them I haven't seen [insert greatest movie ever made that I have yet to watch here]. Or when they ask, "You haven't seen [insert greatest movie ever made that I have yet to watch here]?" No, jackass. Why would I lie about that?
18. Goatees.
19. Oxygen bars. Tap air is fine by me.
20. Broken escalators.
21. Idiots who ask fat women when they're due.
22. Larry the Cable Guy. Not laughing.
23. Snakes.
24. Cynical people who make lists about things they hate. I don't count.

Generally, I dig life. Generally.

Peace. Love. It's usually never ironic.

tangent twenty-one: Backstreet's back. so am I.

Alright.

Do you see what I did there? I included the same song lyric in the title and the greeting. I'm awesome. Although maybe not to any of you considering it's been, what? like 8 months since I last posted. I'm only a little bit sorry. Life gets busy, and I'm not a good multi-tasker when it comes to big stuff. Little stuff I'm okay with. You know, like watching a marathon on Bravo while simultaneously playing online Bingo and Scrabble on my phone. I'm not sure why online Bingo entertains me so much. I think it's because I win a lot. And even though I don't win anything but virtual tokens, it somehow persuades me to believe that I am of greater importance than the rest of the people on this earth. Or at least of greater importance than the rest of the people playing online Bingo. For one measly moment I am on a pedestal. I think it's pretty safe to say that if I'm the one playing online Bingo and you're the one being productive or perhaps playing real Bingo for real money then you're of greater importance. Well, if you actually win. If not, I'm the one who hasn't lost any money and I still get to play. I know what you're thinking though. How uncool is this chick. Maybe. But at least I'm honest. Also, I'm not uncool. Ask my mom. Okay, moving on. If you are a diligent reader and have kept up with Tangent M from day one, you're already aware that the Backstreet Boys hold a special place in my heart. And by special, I mean a place above any heartthrob who has ever held a spot as my crush, including Devon Sawa, Edward Cullen, and Alex Hau. Alex Hau was my number one crush from 5th grade until 7th grade. He's real. He's not a B-list celebrity or a teenage vampire (at least I don't think he is). He's also German, which adds nothing to this story. If he's like me and googles himself from time to time then he's in for a fun surprise when this post pops up. Surprise, Alex! We're facebook friends though, and my crush on him faded after I left Christ the King elementary school and went to Marist in the 8th grade (at which point I discovered senior football players who were older, cuter, but also did not know I existed). Even if Alex is vain and googles himself, I can't see it being that awkward if he reads this. Flattering, at most. Probably creepy more than anything. Whatever. It's not like he didn't know I had a crush on him back then. I wasn't very good about keeping my mouth shut about it. And I'm sure staring at him from across the room every day for 2 years wasn't a clue. Right. I used to try and like the things he liked. Even though I didn't. For example, due to him I own a neon green canister full of pogs and one glow-in-the-dark slammer. How do you even play pogs? That was something I failed to find out back then. It didn't matter. He never "asked me out". Because in middle school the proper way to make someone your girlfriend is by asking them out, even though you are without a driver's license and a vehicle in which to go out. But it was still protocol. No disrespect to Alex, but this tangent is not about him. This tangent is about The Backstreet Boys. You probably think I'm the only one who still likes them. False. If that were true I probably could've gotten front row seats at the mini concert I went to a few weekends ago in Charlotte. And by concert I mean an outdoor Halloween party put on by a bar and local radio station in a parking lot. Whatever. There was a stage so I'm calling it a concert. On the way up to Charlotte my friend Beth (who also loves BSB with all of her heart and soul) and I began to make fun of our favorite band for having many songs that sound so similar. Strike that. We weren't making fun, we were just commenting while laughing almost to the point of urinating. You know how that goes. Between you and me though, I felt a little bit guilty for doing so. I was under the impression that I was the only one who still fought for BSB and believed in them (because I do and always will). I was wrong. Unless, however, those skanks were there solely for the Halloween party. People enjoy dressing up. Especially skanks. Because for a night they aren't skanks. They're interesting things like bunnies and kittens and other critters that can somehow be transformed into whorish costumes. I don't have a problem with the way anyone dresses. Honestly. It's up to you how you clothe (or don't clothe) yourself. And if you have a banging body, more power to you. My problem with skanky Halloween costumes is their lack of creativity. Also, October usually proves to be a very cold month in many places so it's hard for me to comprehend how a leotard and fishnets keep these girls warm. I saw a lot of skanks at that concert. A lot. And also, if you don't have the body to wear a skanky critter costume then don't. Because now you're skanky and fat and probably freezing your extremely large ass off. I saw a lot of fat skanky Dorothys that night. There must have been a lot of XLs left on the rack. Believe me, I'm not one to harp on anyone's size. I need to lose more than a couple LBs myself; however, I did not subject myself to mockery by wearing a loin cloth that night and calling it a costume so I feel obligated to put in my two cents about those who did. I chose to wear my tried and true devilled egg costume. I've had it since junior year of high school, and I love it. It's comfortable, I can wear anything under it, and it covers my large ass. It's also a pretty freaking cute costume. Poor Beth tried to be an 80s girl but ended up looking more like an 80s hooker. She's not fat and her costume didn't have ears, so she doesn't fall under that category I mentioned earlier. That's a picture of us at the top. It was a fun night. Like I've mentioned twice already, there are way more BSB fans out there than I thought. (I'm still convinced I'm the biggest.) What's funny about it now is that the fans are all grown up. Sort of. I guess by still being fans we haven't grown up that much. In age we have though. We're all able to drink now. And we don't have to have our parents accompany us to concerts anymore (which I'm sure they're thankful about). Before BSB graced the stage with their pretty little faces, a Michael Jackson cover band played for entirely too long. I'm not saying Who's Bad wasn't great, but when you have hundreds of screaming boy band fans you're not who they're there to see. I shouldn't have drank so much because towards the end of Who's Bad's set list I had to pee. Like real bad. I thought I was going to have to pee my pants (which would have been possible considering how big the egg is), but I took the risk and made a mad dash to the porter potties. That took way too long, and I did the pee dance in front of everyone in the line. You know, when you cross your legs and hold it and sing to yourself while swaying awkwardly in hopes the urine will somehow magically disappear from your bladder. I even prayed. Yes, seriously. It was a dire situation, and I needed God to make it happen so I could run, pee, and get back to my pretty good spot to see the loves of my life. It happened. Once I went to the bathroom I raced my eggy body back to the enormous crowd of hormonal females and tried to push my way back to where my friends were. No one was happy about that. I got called a bitch for doing so because people thought I was lying about needing to get to my friends. Understandably so. I saw that stunt pulled many a times that night. I made it though. And when BSB came on I was like a drunken 12 year old who had nothing to worry about in the world. My digital camera sucks so the pictures didn't turn out too great, but I did capture some videos and will include one (or three) at the end of this tangent. When I got home that Sunday I showed my boyfriend the videos and he was speechless that grown women were screaming like little girls over, yes, the Backstreet Boys. It just goes to show that some things never get old (well, okay, the Backstreet Boys are pretty old) but you get what I mean. I'm off to do work. Hopefully it won't be so long until we meet again. Also, you might want to turn the volume down a smidge. The screaming is intense.

one.

two.

three.

Is your heart beating as fast as mine? Okay. I'm out.

Peace. Love. I'll always want it that way.

tangent twenty: gorillas enjoy Phil Collins.

Ciao.

I started boot camp yesterday, and my body and I are currently in a big fight. No worries. A tangent will spawn from the experience...maybe a few tangents. Today, however, is Tuneage Tuesday. I may have stretched that term lately because the last two tangents written on Tuesdays weren't so much about music. Their titles were, which is how I got away with it. I'm in advertising. I'm quick like that. Funny I should mention advertising. Today's tangent is actually about an ad. It's an older ad, but the first time I saw it I almost peed my pants. I didn't. Don't get grossed out. Don't ask me about the ad's purpose. I have no clue. All I can say is that you will remember it once you've seen it. And you will automatically associate this odd video with the product it promotes. After watching this for the first time I let out a sigh of relief. It's good to know that once I get out of ad school I'll be allowed to make bizarre ads...even if along the way I have to sell toilet paper via cartoon bears. The following video makes my career purposeful. Please watch. Please laugh. Please come close to urinating.

Peace. Love. You're not supposed to get it.

tangent nineteen: just say no to emoticons.

That is all.

Peace. Love. [Insert smiley with tongue out and brows furrowed here].

tangent eighteen: rock the vote. not.

No one is voting. The poll is coming down. Maybe that means no one is reading. Whatevs. Looked at or not, the tangents will still be produced. We've already discussed my narcissistic tendencies. Ahem, excuse me. I've already discussed my narcissistic tendencies.

Peace. Love. No you can't.

tangent seventeen: cop-out.

Happy Monday. 

I had every intention of coming up with a new and fantastic tangent today, but instead I didn't. A little while ago I was invited to go to the Hawks game, so I'm going to steal one of those lame lists from facebook, copy it onto here, and call it a day. Unoriginal? Perhaps. But I'm not about to pass up a fun night to stay home and blog. I'd like to keep a few cool points in the bank. Anyway, the list you see below is one of those "25 Things About Me" copy-and-paste notes that take up too much time to fill out and aren't all that interesting to anyone else other than the vain person filling out said list. Regardless, here is mine. It was originally posted on facebook in February. Enjoy delving into my narcissism. And if you've already seen it, well...sucks for you.

Confirmation That I Need a Life:

1. I'd gladly let a hippo eat me just for a chance to hug one.
   
2. At the first sign of a tornado (warning, watch, severe thunderstorm possibly producing a funnel cloud) I'm in the basement or a bathtub. Greatest fear.
   
3. I watch Spongebob, Fairly Odd Parents, and Jimmy Neutron on Nickelodeon. And laugh hard.
   
4. My real last name is Langston-Wood.
   
5. While I respect her courageous fashion choices, I think Carrie Bradshaw is one of the most selfish fictional characters ever to grace my television set...Meredith Grey probably beats her, but I stopped watching Grey's Anatomy a long time ago and do not feel the need to analyze its female leading role.
   
6. To go along with number 5, I thought the Sex & the City movie blew.
   
7. Backstreet Boys. Yes, still.
   
8. I want to live in the Greek isles someday.
   
9. Most Friday nights I'd rather hang out with my brother at home than go to the bars.
   
10. One of the best pieces of advice I've ever received came from Maggie Kelly (my friend Natalie's mom): Don't buy expensive shoes until you get out of college. Bar funk is not partial to brands.
    
11. Diet Dr Pepper and cheese dip are necessities in my life.
    
12. I'm really good about not calling people back.
    
13. I'm scared that when I have kids it will be socially acceptable to propose to someone via text message.
    
14. I love text messaging.
    
15. I really like 6 Flags, but I hate that my hands smell like wet pennies after spending a day there.
    
16. I think energy drinks are disgusting.
    
17. My dog smells like she's wet even when she's dry. We keep her outside.
    
18. Coffee. Gross. Cigarettes. Grosser.
    
19. I fly all the time, but every time the plane takes off I still worry it's going to crash.
    
20. Not everybody loves Raymond.
    
21. A spoonful of peanut butter is guaranteed to make my day better.
    
22. I'm addicted to classic ChapStick.
    
23. In the winter you'll find me in Uggs. In the summer, Haviana flip-flops.
    
24. I don't miss college.
    
25. Right now I'm in class, and I haven't been paying attention. I'm going to have to teach it to myself. Awesome.
    

You probably figured this out, but #25 is not applicable anymore. I'm sure you caught that though because you're a genius. At any rate, I'm off. Go Hawks.

Peace. Love. Space Jam.

tangent sixteen: green day.

O'Hey.

I am done with second quarter and feel the need to rant. I actually have an excuse because it's St. Patrick's Day. So now I'm going to talk about verde. Learn Spanish if you don't understand that. Specifically, I want to discuss what happens to many people who forget to wear green on March 17. Some people choose not to do so out of protest to conventional standards. A handful of those people sit together in corners wearing black and discussing why convention and conformity do not apply to them. I think they have somewhat of a good idea there, but their execution leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I'd prefer for them to whine far away from my ears. We aren't discussing my problem with the color black or a bunch of egocentric emo kids though. We're discussing green. Well, I'm discussing green. You're reading about it. Maybe. Back to those who don't wear green. It's your prerogative if you decide not to partake in drunken Irish festivities. You shouldn't feel obligated to wear a "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" tight-fitting baby-T or an obnoxious blinking leprechaun button. You shouldn't even feel compelled to wear a smidgen of green if you don't want to. Let's be honest here for a second. St. Patrick's Day is really just spring break compressed into 24 hours. And if that's not your thing, then so be it. I personally enjoy the quasi-holiday. I do not, however, enjoy the pinchers. If you still pinch people for not wearing green then you just volunteered your way onto my "I'd like to punch you in the face" list. Don't be an asshole. Pinching serves no purpose other than legitimate proof that someone (the pincher) sucks. And not the mean kind of sucks, the irritating kind of sucks...which is way worse. I don't care if you think it's funny to parade around the office and pinch your co-workers who forgot their tiny Paddy flair. The only reason they even wear it is to avoid people like you. You aren't 7 anymore. Let the non-greeners go through March 17 in peace. In my opinion, pinching lies on the same plane with Carrot Top. Annoying and useless. So join me in my attempt to stop the pinchers from spreading their venomous fingers. Should you choose to be witty after reading this and decide to squeeze a portion of my skin in between your thumb and pointer finger then I can almost guarantee you'll be moved to the top of the previously-mentioned list. I hope those of you who dig today have green beers in hand and are about to sway back and forth to "Piano Man" at an overcrowded Irish pub. I'll see you in a few.

Peace. Love. Ginger fever.