Brooms
Alright so I have TWO things to talk to you about this morning, blog world. The first, however, is more of a 'bone' I have to pick with you. Here it is: What is up with my SERIOUS posts only being viewed like 4 times and my ridiculous, stupid, pointless posts being viewed like 50 times? That makes NO sense to me. I thought people wanted GOOD discussion about God....not just pointless blabber about randomness that is dumb and occasionally funny? Sigh. I thought you liked me for being intense, but now I see you just want me to say funny things. No one reads or comments on the posts close to my heart. They just like to hear about me falling out of train doors. Sigh again. I suppose this will teach me a lesson or two about checking how many 'hits' my posts get. I should find contentment in blogging, NOT in knowing how many times I am read. Sigh one last time. Okay, onto the next thing.
Thing Two: Has anyone else had his or her Facebook overtaken by the stupid pictures of the brooms standing up all alone by themselves in womens' kitchens? Well not ALL by themselves. FIRST, the women stand them up, sometimes playing with them and helping them a few times I'm sure until FINALLY they balance with the moon and stars and all the planets and stand alone. It's this apparent NEW phenomenon that all the upper 20's/lower 30's house-wives and working-moms are realizing. I feel like all of our grandmothers are sitting around their computers in AOL chat rooms somewhere (because they still use AOL and don't understand any other recent online chat developments) talking about how stupid all their granddaughters are that they did not even know that brooms would stand up alone, and that this is proof that so-and-so's mama never made her lift a finger when she was a child because apparently she never even HAD to use a broom until she married old John Doe what's-his-name and had to clean a toilet for the first time. (Please read that entire sentence in an Old Southern woman accent in order for it to have the best effect).
But really girls, seriously? I mean, from the first moment I signed into Facebook and was hit with 90857463 status updates of my friends who had tried the broom trick, I KNEW that I was going to have to try it myself JUST so I could make fun of EVERYONE who was doing it (as well as make fun of myself). So yesterday, while Jesse and the rest of the people I know in New York City were all inside one building, Grace Faith Church, I was at home drugged up on my expensive migraine pills and walking around in a dizzy migraine-drug-induced-stupor. At one point, while at the back door of our apartment, watching Jirem do his business outside through the door window, I found myself standing face-to-face with....you guessed it... the...B.R.O.O.M.
Now what follows was not recorded via picture or video because our broom is gross. It's red and black (Georgia colors, and my family is a family of Tech fans, so we don't usually buy anything that are rojo and negro), and it's gross from sweeping up cat litter around the cat box and sweeping off the back concrete when the leaves fall, so I didn't want to be pictured with my yucky broom or to even claim ownership of the yucky thing. BUT, I did touch it and maneuver it around for about 2 minutes until I got it to balance and stand alone; it was like the Heaven's parted and all the housewife gods smiled down on me affirming that I was now in their club because I had seen the secret of the broom, the secret that every good housewife knows, but about which no real man or feminist would ever think.
Then I rolled my eyes at myself, shoved the broom into the corner, and called the dog inside. Moment of clarity and reality ensued. Heaven's closed. Back to the couch with my grumpy face.
I had forgotten about the incident until this morning, when I awoke to MORE broom pictures on my status, and decided to share the phenomenon with Jesse. I went into the backroom, perched the broom up to it's standing position, and called him, "Jesse! Come quick! Look." He comes. He says, "What?" I say "Look." He looks. He says "What?" I say "LOOK," a bit more firm, and look at the broom. His eyes grow a little bigger and slightly surprised, and I am satisfied. I say "IT STANDS! I SAW IT ON FACEBOOK!" And then I begin to tell him the whole story and how I'm going to blog about it. He asks if I want a picture. I say, "ew gross. No." I then proceed to tell him my theory about the grandma's in chat rooms. He laughs at that and says, "yeah I'm so sure." I thought it was a good theory though. I continue to talk about how in the 'old' days these fads probably traveled in smaller circles, through snail mail and phone just between girlfriends, and then after some time showed up in magazines, but that everything travels around so quickly now because of Facebook and social media, and it doesn't take nearly as long for things to sweep the nation. He points out my pun. I DIDN'T EVEN MEAN TO MAKE IT! But I'm proud of myself. SWEEP THE NATION! Good job, Megin. You're a REAL writer!
After this we head back to our normal work positions, until I decide to vacuum some dog hair off the floor. Then I see Jesse's socks on the floor by his desk. I just picked up a pair of dirty socks from beside the bed in our room an hour earlier. I say to him, "Jesse, I just don't get why you have to leave your dirty socks lying around everywhere and why you can't just put them in the dirty clothes hamper!" He says, "I'm going to WEAR those socks later. Duh." I say "Then WHY are they off your feet and dirty? DUH?" He says, "because I'm not WEARING them right now." I decide not to counter back because this conversation is obviously going nowhere.
You see, we are from two separate worlds. I am not talking about the whole Venus and Mars thing. No, I am talking about how I am from a world where women stand brooms up and post pictures about it (or 40 years ago, stand brooms up and write letters about it). He is from a world where men wear socks until they are so dirty that they can no longer confidently say they used to be white, and turn their underpants inside out to postpone laundry day. Our worlds could not be more different, and I suppose that's why God put us together, so that as our worlds' collided, good blogs and books would be made.
So that's all for now. Please women, stop with the broom pictures. We all know they stand up now. It's great. We're excited. We're still going to put them in the corner, in the closet, or hang them on a hook; no one is going to just keep the broom standing in the center of the room, and the pictures are starting to look eerie. So lets all ban together and take an oath once and for all to purge ourselves of this broom thing so that our grandmothers can go back to playing the Facebook pet games and farm games and heart games and gambling games. They're tired of being embarrassed by our broom pictures. Happy Monday!
Thing Two: Has anyone else had his or her Facebook overtaken by the stupid pictures of the brooms standing up all alone by themselves in womens' kitchens? Well not ALL by themselves. FIRST, the women stand them up, sometimes playing with them and helping them a few times I'm sure until FINALLY they balance with the moon and stars and all the planets and stand alone. It's this apparent NEW phenomenon that all the upper 20's/lower 30's house-wives and working-moms are realizing. I feel like all of our grandmothers are sitting around their computers in AOL chat rooms somewhere (because they still use AOL and don't understand any other recent online chat developments) talking about how stupid all their granddaughters are that they did not even know that brooms would stand up alone, and that this is proof that so-and-so's mama never made her lift a finger when she was a child because apparently she never even HAD to use a broom until she married old John Doe what's-his-name and had to clean a toilet for the first time. (Please read that entire sentence in an Old Southern woman accent in order for it to have the best effect).
Now what follows was not recorded via picture or video because our broom is gross. It's red and black (Georgia colors, and my family is a family of Tech fans, so we don't usually buy anything that are rojo and negro), and it's gross from sweeping up cat litter around the cat box and sweeping off the back concrete when the leaves fall, so I didn't want to be pictured with my yucky broom or to even claim ownership of the yucky thing. BUT, I did touch it and maneuver it around for about 2 minutes until I got it to balance and stand alone; it was like the Heaven's parted and all the housewife gods smiled down on me affirming that I was now in their club because I had seen the secret of the broom, the secret that every good housewife knows, but about which no real man or feminist would ever think.
Then I rolled my eyes at myself, shoved the broom into the corner, and called the dog inside. Moment of clarity and reality ensued. Heaven's closed. Back to the couch with my grumpy face.
I had forgotten about the incident until this morning, when I awoke to MORE broom pictures on my status, and decided to share the phenomenon with Jesse. I went into the backroom, perched the broom up to it's standing position, and called him, "Jesse! Come quick! Look." He comes. He says, "What?" I say "Look." He looks. He says "What?" I say "LOOK," a bit more firm, and look at the broom. His eyes grow a little bigger and slightly surprised, and I am satisfied. I say "IT STANDS! I SAW IT ON FACEBOOK!" And then I begin to tell him the whole story and how I'm going to blog about it. He asks if I want a picture. I say, "ew gross. No." I then proceed to tell him my theory about the grandma's in chat rooms. He laughs at that and says, "yeah I'm so sure." I thought it was a good theory though. I continue to talk about how in the 'old' days these fads probably traveled in smaller circles, through snail mail and phone just between girlfriends, and then after some time showed up in magazines, but that everything travels around so quickly now because of Facebook and social media, and it doesn't take nearly as long for things to sweep the nation. He points out my pun. I DIDN'T EVEN MEAN TO MAKE IT! But I'm proud of myself. SWEEP THE NATION! Good job, Megin. You're a REAL writer!
After this we head back to our normal work positions, until I decide to vacuum some dog hair off the floor. Then I see Jesse's socks on the floor by his desk. I just picked up a pair of dirty socks from beside the bed in our room an hour earlier. I say to him, "Jesse, I just don't get why you have to leave your dirty socks lying around everywhere and why you can't just put them in the dirty clothes hamper!" He says, "I'm going to WEAR those socks later. Duh." I say "Then WHY are they off your feet and dirty? DUH?" He says, "because I'm not WEARING them right now." I decide not to counter back because this conversation is obviously going nowhere.
You see, we are from two separate worlds. I am not talking about the whole Venus and Mars thing. No, I am talking about how I am from a world where women stand brooms up and post pictures about it (or 40 years ago, stand brooms up and write letters about it). He is from a world where men wear socks until they are so dirty that they can no longer confidently say they used to be white, and turn their underpants inside out to postpone laundry day. Our worlds could not be more different, and I suppose that's why God put us together, so that as our worlds' collided, good blogs and books would be made.
So that's all for now. Please women, stop with the broom pictures. We all know they stand up now. It's great. We're excited. We're still going to put them in the corner, in the closet, or hang them on a hook; no one is going to just keep the broom standing in the center of the room, and the pictures are starting to look eerie. So lets all ban together and take an oath once and for all to purge ourselves of this broom thing so that our grandmothers can go back to playing the Facebook pet games and farm games and heart games and gambling games. They're tired of being embarrassed by our broom pictures. Happy Monday!
Comments
Broom response: I have seem NO BROOM pictures in my newsfeed so far.... Maybe it's just working people... o.O
sock: ........ew.
Some facebook games are good :)