10 Worst Gifts of 2008

Ah, the day after Christmas. The day families across America clean up those mountains of wrapping paper and tissue strewn about their living rooms. The day kids everywhere finally relax those smiles of glee from amazing gifts they received and forced, fake smiles of glee from the gifts Aunt Pearl didn't exactly get right. This year, my family did pretty good compared to years past. (I never want to speak of the 2 knit turtlenecks I got two years in a row three sizes too big. Sorry Ma, I never "grew into them.") Maybe it's the bad economy. Maybe my family is just finally opening their eyes to my wardrobe choices. Even so, there were a few flat liners...

10 Worst Gifts of 2008
10. "Ski" pants. Seems fine, right? Yeah, until you peer closer to the label and read "Saltwater Fishing Pants."
9. How to Use Your George Foreman Grill by Judd Mackerel. Uh, I don't own a George Foreman Grill. And I don't cook, period.
8. Granny panties from Fruit of the Loom. You know, the ones your mom always bought you before you discovered Victoria's Secret. With the elastic. And the little bow. Size XL.
7. One-year paid subscription to African Birds and Birding. Oooh! Ahhh! Not.
6. A cream colored lampshade. No comment.
5. Cat toys. First of all, I don't have a cat. Second of all, they aren't even the squeaky kind! Ugh.
4. Brown colored contact lenses. I don't even wear glasses, and I already have brown eyes. Can't wait to test these out, Uncle Merv. Woo hoo!
3. One striped sock. Just one. Not the other. Oh, I adore this gift! I just can't wait to match this striped sock up to my polka dot sock! Then I'll be a real winner.
2. A birthday card, complete with clown, that read "Dear Louise, Hope you enjoy a wonderful Easter." Note to Aunt Betty: My name is Maxine, and it's Christmas, not my birthday or Easter.
1. The back to the Voyager. Not the whole phone, just the back piece that keeps the battery in place. Wow. I can't even begin to fathom how you managed that one, Dad. Way to go. What am I supposed to do, ask someone who has the Voyager (which I really wanted in the first place) if I can borrow their phone just to test out my cool new back? Yeah!

My Christmas Present to You!

Uh, just in case you hadn't noticed (if you are suffering from temporary farsightedness and/or haven't eaten any carrots in the past three years) some changes were made to the site. We've got some new colors and a new gadget titled "Queen Maxine's Useless Knowledge". Also, I've updated my blogger profile to actually say stuff. (About time, huh?) Play around with it and let me know what you think. Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Happy Hanukkah, Amazing New Year, Blessed Kwanzaa, Fun-filled Ramadan, Sugar-high Halloween, Celebratory Independence Day, Lovely Valentine's Day, Awesome Birthday, Great Groundhog Day, and happy any other holiday you may think of. (Grandparents Day, anyone...?)

P.S.: I realize I'm technically writing this the day after Christmas. It was a long day, Santa was good to me...let's just pretend it's very late at night on the 25th, okay?

My Mom Wouldn't Be Proud

Do I dare enter? The entrance is blocked. I can't see in. I don't know what to expect. One can only imagine...

A tornado occurred recently, resulting in absolute destruction. Crusty foodstuffs now paper the walls in an almost patterned fashion, instead of the customary paint. An overturned, ripped, chair lies in pieces near the corner, a definate hazard. Various blankets, pillows and covers pile the floor. Who knows what lurks underneath? Pens, pencils and other sharp objects stick up from the ground. A small garbage can overflows with old yellowed paper, rotting food remains, decaying band-aids, discarded clothing and broken hangers. Many other pieces of trash are located all around, wherever the tornado decided to carelessly drop them. Crushed makeup and glitter from ancient art projects hang in the air, choking any inhabitants of this shunned place. Broken high heels and shoes litter the ground. An explosion of messy color blinds anyone who attempts looking at any of the several mountanous piles of clothes located all around. Random trinkets and tchockies sit atop a mantle-like dresser, ruling this black hole. No one has ever reported reaching the end of this bottomless pit.

Ugh. I sigh and just open the door. After all, it's only my bedroom...

Technology These Days!

Ugh! Technology these days. These little inventions called cell phones, Facebook and computers are awesome. They also make everything a lot more complicated.

i woke up dis morning 2 a txt frm joe. lol. he wuz like wut r u doin 2day? i wuz like...idk. hangin out. hbu. hes like cool wanna c wat alyssa nd jay r doin? i said k. lol. thn i txtd alyssa and jay hey wanna hang out w me and joe today? alyssa txtd rite back, but jay mobile im'd me a few mins later. i guess he wuz on the comp. lol. jay wanted us 2 go 2 jeffs house but alyssa wanted us all to meet at the diner. she wuz like, ill call jeff. jeff sed idk if i can hang 2day my mom wants me 2 stay home. i txtd joe. lol. we didnt no wat we were gona do. omg! then i wnt onto fb nd saw tht joe nd jay were on. i pop out chatted them. ugh the msg wldnt go thru! i checkd my inbox(1) but it wasnt frm ne of them. lol. jays status said he couldnt go newhere cuz he didnt have a ride. i cmntd on tht. i wuz like nooo! i rly wantd him 2 hang out w us. lol. i talkd to joe for a little bit on IM but then he txtd me frm his email addy. he doesnt have unltd txting nd i guess he didnt want to use all of his txts. lol. alyssa wantd 2 bring her little sis, i wuz like ok. her sis is a cool kid. lol. a lot of time went by. no one txtd me. lol. i checkd facey but no one was on there either. i didnt even have ne notifications! i wuz so confused. lol.wut were we doing? it eventually got 2 late nd my mom wuz like..u cnt go out 2nite. ugh. lol.

Maybe if we just picked up the phone...

Air for Sale!

It seems everything nowadays is sellable. Senate seats in Illinois, burnt toast on eBay...even the rights to name a child! Following in the footsteps of a certain governor's recent actions, I'm going to sell some of my stuff. It might not be exactly mine, but who cares? No one has to find out about that little neglagble detail...right?

Maxine's bLogBay

Air for Sale!

Like new. Has gone through photosynthesis. In good condition.

1 square meter

Warning - contains a small amount of pollutants. Is not pure O2.

$1,000,002 (because I really need that extra $2. I can buy a whole pack of gum with that fortune)

*

Truck Full of White-Out for Sale!

I was driving along Route 80 the other day and discovered an overturned tractor-trailer.

Despite the fact the driver was in critical contition, the white-out in the compartment out back was perfectly okay. I guess he was supposed to make a delivery. You know what they say...finders keepers, losers weepers!

254,682,430,169 gallons of all-purpose correction fluid. Never used before.

I'll even include one of those little brushes for easy application. Remember to shake well!

$340,000,000.01 (I just want a penny for those take a penny, leave a penny boxes at 7-11)

*

Cardboard Box for Sale!

I was at Sears the other day and saw them unloading a bunch of refrigerators. Those boxes can be super fun! I took one and just stashed it in my car. They won't notice...I hope.

Be like Spongebob and Patrick and use your imagination!

Box is 12 x 4 x 9.

$241

If I think of anything else, I'll let you know. Who knows what is sellable in this day and age? Green gummy bears, used baby wipes, rocks, the letter 'K' from my keyboard...the list goes on and on. And so does the rediculous audacity of greedy individuals who ought to make their money somewhere else. Say, McDonalds.

Blagojevich, this post is for you.

Snow? Yeah, if you read this...

I live in an area where it's predicted that we will have a snow storm tomorrow. Yes! I've been waiting for this all year. Frolicking in the fields with my furry friends, sledding down the slippery slopes in my ski suit...the possibilities are endless.

Except, I always wish for a day off and it never happens. When I wake up every day at 6 a.m., the first thing on my mind is, "Is there school today? I hope not!" And you know what? Every single time I ever think that WE HAVE SCHOOL! I still have to drag my sorry butt out of bed, step into the scalding hot shower, choke down some excuse-for-breakfast at an indigestible hour and dash into the building (narrowly avoiding the bell, of course...) And I do this all while attempting not to fall asleep. (Taking a quick snooze on the shower floor doesn't only make for an unstretchable crick in my neck, but it messes up my entire shampooing-and-conditioning schedule. God forbid I mess up the exact times of my hair washing!)

Obviously, we need to work on our day-off tactics. Assemble the armies, girls. The silly little snow dances maybe worked in maybe elementary school, but that was years ago. We're in high school now and these games just aren't going to cut it. I'm proposing a plan. DON'T wish for a day off tomorrow. Pretend to care less on whether or not we go to school tomorrow! Everyone, take off the statuses promoting snow on your Facebook. Come on, it's just getting repetitive anyway. Refraining from doing the snowflake dance, the snow-angel dance, the snowman dance, or any sort of strange ritual that includes the words "snow" and "dance" in the same sentence.

I'm reverting to a timeless classic... the"Opposite Day" bit. It always worked in first grade.

(P.S. Guys, please wear pajamas. And wear them the right way. No more of this ridiculous inside-out nonsense. For God's sake, we don't want to see any of that.)

24 Ways to Ditch Him

Despite the fact that I am perfectly content with my love life (<3),> into the wee hours of the night from the dreaded screenname you never want to see again. The pestering "ding" of Facebook Pop-out Chat that makes you want to throw the computer at the wall. The seemingly endless buzz of your phone from repetitive text messages from this guy that just won't give up. It would be nice if we could just eliminate these creepers once and for all. Wait, what if we could? What if there was a super-easy, pain-free way to just say, "Go away, you ugly disgusting animal," without sounding like a total jerk and/or crazed psychopath? Maybe there is.

*Disclamer: Before you read, understand this is a total joke. It's not meant to be serious at all. Of course these things are dumb and stupid and would never work, but that's what makes it fun to read. :)
24 Ways to Ditch Him
1. Never answer his text messages.
2. Answer his text messages, but spell everything backwards.
him: hey
you: yeh! stahw pu?
3. Answer his text messages, but refer to yourself in the third person.
him: hey whats up?
you: maxine says hey. she is going to eat dinner. maxine is wondering what you are doing.
4. Answer his text messages, but only with one word answers.
him: hey, what do you think I should wear to the concert?
you: clothes.
him: what about my black shirt?
you: no.
5. Answer his text messages, but only through your Facebook status. Never text him back directly.
him: hey. are you going to see Twilight tonight?
Maxine is yeah, I'm going. Jen's driving.
6. Never brush your teeth.
7. Never brush your hair.
8. Only brush the sides of your teeth and hair.
9. Ask him for a ride home, then "have to go to the bathroom" on the way. Make him stop at a gas station. Pretend to be in the bathroom for 20 minutes. Instead, buy gum and check out Brad Pitt in the new issue of People magazine.
10. Ask him for a ride home, then point out every "hot" guy you see on the way. Make sure to comment on clowns, anyone wearing suspenders, balding UPS drivers and/or fire hydrants.
11. Tell him that you were born "up in the mountains" and every Wednesday you have to attend a ritualistic washing to cleanse the "city dirt" from your pores. Accuse him of being too dirty for you.
12. Tell him that you were born "up in the mountains". In everyday conversation, blurt out "ain't there nothin' like that mountain air!"
him: that's a nice shirt! i like it.
you: thanks. ain't there nothin' like that mountain air!
13. When he suggests pizza and a movie, tell him that pizza is against your religion.
14. When he asks how you are getting to your vacation spot, say Platform 9 3/4. Deny that this is from Harry Potter.
15. Be very obscure about your past.
16. Refer to your parents as "Uncle Ted and Aunt Mae."
17. When he asks where you are from, say, "I entered this world through an interstellar collision of Uncle Ted and Aunt Mae."
18. Go in for a kiss. Accidentally sneeze on his face. Blame the wind for the sneeze.
19. Go out to a fancy five-star restaurant. Pour ketchup on everything.
20. Tell him you were born with a rare birth defect where you can only walk backwards. Whenever you see him, start to walk backwards.
21. Tell him you were created in a laboratory where some of your genes were mixed with genes of a cow. Instead of laughing at his jokes, moo.
22. Randomly throw Spanish phrases into everyday conversation. When he says something about it, accuse it of being in his imagination.
him: hey. what's up?
you: hola. nothing much. y tu?
him: was that spanish?
you: no. it must have been in your imagination.
him: are you sure? i'm pretty sure i heard some spanish.
you: estas delusional?!?!
23. Go to his house. Clog the toilet. Don't tell him.
24. Follow all of the above criteria, but while wearing traditional Indian wedding gear and talking in a French accent. Insist this is a combination of your anti-pizza religion and all of the mountain air getting to your head.

Cracking. Up.

Kids in high school worship Jessica Simpson with her tiny Daisy Dukes (*cough*SLUTSHORTS*cough), Derek Jeter with his supreme batting average, and Facebook with its stalker-friendly capabilities.

But, as of today, Thursday, December 11, 2008 at 4:29 p.m., a new addition has been made to the list:
Magical Trevor and his magical journey.

I was talking to my friend Alex on AIM and checked out his AIM profile. (Warning: Before you even think of looking at a sophomore boy's profile, better make sure he's updated it since 1999. If not, you might get extremely shocked and/or scared at his "interesting" ideas of cool stuff, and want to crawl under the nearest rock.)

It said:
Alex's Really Really Cool Links
http://www.weebls-stuff.com/toons/magical+trevor
Why did I put this on my cool links page? Because everyone loves Magical Trevor!

And, it's kind of true. Everyone probably does love Magical Trevor. Or, if they haven't met him yet, they will love him. Listening to his song on a constant loop is pretty addicting; I've been doing it for the past 15 minutes. Even as addicting as watching Jeter bat. (And for girls who happen to be in the vicinity of a High Def TV, that's pretty addicting.)



Check out Magical Trevor here.

Another Legally Blonde Cliche...

You know those moods where you just feel like singing and dancing even though no one's watching? (Or you feel like singing and dancing just because people are watching...) I'm in one right now. I feel like jumping out of this chair and just screaming out the lyrics to Legally Blonde's Oh My God, Oh My God You Guys! song.

I'M GOING TO BE PUBLISHED!

Yeah, you heard me. Published. P - u - b - l - i - s - h - e - d. As in, something I write will be put in a newspaper for everyone to see. Specifically, an article on how the economic woes currently plaguing America affect children as well. In The Record. Soon. Yay.

It seemed like just yesterday I was making a blog on a free website...

p.s. In case you missed that Legally Blonde song, check it out here. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXiO_a2JWmc

The Queen Has (Finally) Spoken!

So, I've finally gotten a blog. After months of hard deliberation...staying up half the night, tossing and turning about the daunting task ahead...fretting about the host site, the title, the name, the byline, the header, the footer, the font, the font size, the font color (not to mention whether or not Porkey at the end of the bed would stop snoring or not...)

I did it. I finally decided enough was enough. I plomped down in the fraying desk chair and squeezed my eyes shut in fear of the big, scary blog site. I painstakingly drew out everything in anticipation of the blog looming over my head. I typed in http://www.blogspot.com/ with one finger, and slowly let go. I let one eye open first, then another. I was greeted by a big, cheery smiley face. Well, that wasn't that bad.

I knew that wasn't even the half of it though. It was going to take me forever to make some progress to even get this thing off the ground. Like my father always said, blogs don't just grow on trees.

Huh. Weird. It took all of three seconds.

Who knew? Actually, considering my family's technological background, this little incident shouldn't have come as a suprise. My mom can't even figure out "how to get the durn thing on." Don't even get me started on my grandparents.

They still think it's 1942.