Phone Tag

All I want to do is speak to one semi-intelligible, breathing human being about the Culinary Arts program. I may be biased, but it seems like such a small favor from someone whose job its supposed to be to woo me into choosing the school in question. Damn Art Institute, why do your phone jockeys elude me so?

I've been coming to the slow and sickening realization this year that the majority of the population is, in fact, on the cusp of de-evolving back into grunting, ignorant cave-folk. I think it really started to hit me during the build-up to the presidential election. Each day, just when I was certain that people couldn't possibly be more misguided and judgemental, some moron would utter something so ridiculous and un-founded that it blew all previous stupidity right out of the water. Some of my personal favorites:

1. Obama is a socialist and plans to redistribute wealth (realize that this is coming from the mouth of someone who is barely making ends meet, bitching about the idea of rich people unassing some wealth).

2. Sarah Palin should be Vice President because she's hot. This comment came not from an over-sexed college oaf, but from a rational, grown man of roughly 35.

3. Obama is a Muslim. Apparently not being a Christian is the same as being a terrorist.

4. Obama is in fact a terrorist. OBVIOUSLY, Obama rhymes with OSAMA, duh.

There were of course many more examples, but I don't wish to belabor the point. At any rate, hooray for our soon-to-be Pres, I'm looking forward to seeing someone give a State of the Union without sounding like a complete dumb ass.

Its already starting to feeling holiday-y. Every year it happens earlier. The evil subliminal Christmas message has already started working on me. I went into Meijer for approximately 20 minutes on Sunday and by the time I left I was ready to go home and start dragging out all the holiday decorations. I also had a strange urge to bake many pies and give them to people. The holiday music in the store penetrated somewhere deep within my brain apparently, because at the sight of wrapping paper and stockings I began to get giggly and if I remember correctly, I believe I actually jumped up and down at the thought of making custom-adorned sock-shaped receptacles for Shaun and myself, in which I would place small goodies for him and he would do likewise after much hen-pecking by me. I think Shaun either pretends to hate Christmas, but secretly pines for it, or he actually does hate Christmas and is dreading my inevitable frenzy of holiday binge-baking and 1st degree apartment-bedecking. He'll just have to suck it up and pretend to enjoy eating christmasy delights and receiving gifts. He's so abused....

Only 43 shopping days left.