This morning I awoke to a familiar voice at six am. My brain was hazy, but I could tell this voice was having a party in its pants.
“The party’s in Pauly D’s pants tonight,” it said. “Fresh outfit. Fresh hair. You gotta be fresh.”
Oh, yes. It was my Jersey Shore Pauly D bobble head doll. My friend Rahul gave him to me because we love to pretend we don’t watch the horrible show that is an embarrassment to all Americans. This Pauly D doll talks. It’s a catchphrase kinda doll. (incidentally, I am working on my own catchphrase. So far it’s “Let’s Pizza It Up!!” Still undecided though.) This bobble head is supposed to talk when you bobble its head, but mine talks whenever. Today he talked at six am. At first I wanted to get mad and tell Pauly D that his line is not fresh but old. But then I realized something huge: I am probably the only person in the world today who woke up to a bobble head telling her about a party in his pants.
THE ONLY ONE.
There are about 6,775,235,700 people in the world, but I really think I am the only one who awoke to a party in a bobble head’s pants. And if someone else happens to have a Pauly D bobble head doll that talks at six am without being bobbled, she was probably not sleeping on the floor when it woke her up.
I happened to have been sleeping on the floor because I ventured out to buy a new bed frame yesterday at IKEA. For some reason, I thought the best time to put it together was midnight. If you ever put anything from IKEA together, you know that it is impossible to do it quickly whether it’s a set of drawers or a vase. You probably have fallen to your knees swearing about those FUCKING instructions and that STUPID wrench thing. You probably know that if IKEA would just put in a little sentence on those instructions that said ‘make sure to install this piece with the holes facing up,’ millions of those 6,775,235,700 people would swear 10% less and society’s self-esteem would rise. But they don’t do that. And after two hours, I grew frustrated, took my rage out by guzzling a large bottle of sparkling water, and then went to sleep on the floor. I rationalized that it was still comfortable because it was within the unfinished bed frame.
I am sure there wasn’t anyone else in the world who slept on the floor inside her bed frame to wake up to a bobble-free bobble head doll. I know I must be the only one.
I’m so unique!
This totally unique night happened just after I visited the dermatologist who told me I needed Botox. He said, “Oh honey, do you ever need Botox.” This I don’t think was that unique. I bet several people in LA were told the same thing, even from the same doctor. But I bet most of those people got the Botox. That single line really makes a girl feel pretty ugly, so I have a feeling most girls cracked under the pressure from that dicky doctor (ahemDr. Taheri in Santa Monica don’tgothereahem). Even if there were a few who left the dermatologist with no lethal poisons in their faces, they DID NOT go home, sleep within a bedless bed frame and THEN wake up to a plastic Pauly D.
If I am the only one having this kind of day, I can’t imagine what sorts of other days people are having. I doubt anyone’s day was half as exciting as this one sounds. But, 6,775,235,700 people having 6,775,235,700 different days boggled my mind. As I laid there on the floor inside my bed frame, I thought about the villagers I met in Papua New Guinea. They don’t have bobble head dolls or bed frames or even dermatologists to suggest any treatments at all. Their days were probably spent selling pig heads and gossiping in Pidgin. And then I thought about all the other people in all the other countries all over the world doing things. Different things. 6,775,235,700 things. Then the world felt huge and I felt small. And, honestly, pretty lame.
Out of 6,775,235,700 kinds of days to be had, I went to IKEA and the dermatologist. Ew. I feel uniquely lame. Not that selling a pig head sounds better, but it really sounds better.
The good news is that, while sitting here writing this right now, I have decided to confirm that previous catchphrase: Let’s pizza it up!
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You should give the loudmouth “Jersey Shore” doll to Dr. Botox. Two birds … one stone … but no birds will actually die. It’s metaphorical, you know?
“Let’s pizza it up!” goes directly against my own catchphrase of “Pizza Down!” We’ll have to battle this out on the mean streets of Seaside Heights. I’m not going to lie, my day is roughly 97 percent the same every day. Maybe tonight I’ll take my bed apart and sleep in the closet. I’m always up for an adventure. I’ve never heard of this Jersey Shore show. What exactly do they do on there? (psssst, text me after you watch the newest episode.)
Last night, I made dinner and watched new episodes of the NBC comedies on TV. This morning, I awoke to my alarm and got dressed and drove to work. My life is boring. At least yours was different and unique. Although it would have been even more exciting/horrifying if you woke up from your empty bedframe-bed to actual Pauly D standing quietly over you reciting catch phrases about his junk. I don’t have cable so I’ve never seen Jersey Shore and have no idea what you crazy kids are watching on the boob tube these days. But hey, it’s Friday and I don’t have any meetings or conference calls and I’m wearing jeans. So I’ve decided that today will be a good Friday, just like Good Friday. Except without the whole crucifixion part, which is such a downer.
Who’s Pauly D and why does he look like the Fonz?
Funny as always Laurenne. I went to a tasting last night. Delicious. Then came home and stayed up until 1 watching the shows I had tivo’d. Jersey Shore is not one of them. Never have watched it not even one second. Love my life.
Now I have an irrationally intense craving for pizza.
Fun (?) Fact: I never really liked Chicago style pizza until a place called Hollywood Pies just shot my ignorance straight to hell. TO HELL.
there’s a reason the allen wrenches are free at IKEA… they suck.
THIS doesn’t suck: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTJEtMSuMqg
the only ‘party in my pants’ is the ice pack my chiropractor gave me this morning.
“Who DOESN’T need botox these days?!” (that’s my catch phrase)
xo (times 6,775,235,700)
sleeping inside an empty IKEA bedframe could become the next SoCal spiritual trend – akin to those people who slept under pyramid frames for the energy that they channeled. you could charge royalties and buy a lot of pig heads.
You just listen here, doll. You do NOT need Botox or any other alterations. Well, you do need the rest of your bed. Get on that.
Now I’m kind of afraid to put the desk I just bought together tomorrow. At least I don’t have to sleep in/on it.
Here’s to unique.
I love how we find each other.
2Mensa told me I’d love you. I do.
Oh my word. You made me smile. Which added to my own laugh lines so, thanks. Thanks a lot. I had a 20 year old tell me I needed Botox, once. I refrained from smacking her (which was hard because I was quite inebriated) and instead retorted that when she had laughed and smiled as often as I HAD, she would be blessed with laugh lines, too. She didn’t get it. She was all of 12 or something and quite the pretentious lil thing.
That obviously still bothers me. I need more coffee. You are funny, though. Think I’ll stalk you for a bit, m’kay?
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