Sticker Collection

Remember what it felt like to be tethered to a plastic rotary phone for HOURS while your best friend just talked and talked and talked?

And you didn't really care...you just wanted to get up and do something else, but all you could do was sit on your parents' bed and wrap the coiled cord around your finger over and over while your friend yammered on and on about jellies and Christmas presents and Nancy Drew books and new bicycles and then an hour would pass and your mom would FINALLY tell you to hang up and you were like THANK GOD! I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE.

And then you'd go and pull out your Lisa Frank stationery and write a letter to your other friend, because you're feeling very fond of them all of a sudden, but you don't know if you should actually use any stickers on the letter because those stickers cost money, unlike the digital crap we have today. No, these are irreplaceable stickers that could actually die if you give them away. So, you send the letter and stash the stickers.

Twenty years pass. You find yourself at 30 years of age, having had moved the last of your items out of your parent's house a few years ago, and yet...and yet there sits that freaking box of stickers. Stickers that you never used.

Well, isn't this the WORST?

For the first time in your life you wish that you'd been more wasteful in your childhood. Or at the very least you wish that you could be more wasteful now.

But you can't! You can't do it! You can't part with the box of stickers that meant so much to you all those years ago. And so you pack them away in a box labeled "mementos," knowing you will most likely not open the box for another ten years and thus your stickers will live on.

And hopefully, 40-year-old you will finally have that thing called "common sense" that you've seemed to lack your entire life.

How Game of Thrones SHOULD Have Looked

There is this weird thing that happens when you read a book before seeing its movie or TV show…you end up utterly disappointed. And not just disappointed in the “oh, she’s supposed to have silver hair and instead it looks just…white” sense, but in the “wait, WHAT? Is this really supposed to be the face of my favorite character for the next FIVE SEASONS?!”

This is exactly what happened to me with the Game of Thrones television show.

I’m a HUGE fangirl of the books. So much so that I saw the author George Martin at WorldCon some time ago, and I was incapable of walking up to say hello. We’re talking glued to the ground, unable to think, wasting space and air. I’m not usually like that around people I admire, so it ended up being a mild form of entertainment for the practical side of my brain—the side that kept taunting “he’s just an old man! You’re a blond! GO SAY HI, you wimp!”

Ahem…where was I? OH YES…the tv show.

I had read the first two books by the time I saw the show, so I’d had plenty of time to create my own better  versions of these characters. And let me tell you they were lifelike! And awesome!!! And way better than any HBO casting director could have imagined!

And naturally as soon as the opening scenes played out, my dreams were shattered. My excitement depleted. This show was going to be horrible. And all because the characters looked nothing like they were supposed to look.

Time has passed. I am rewatching what I had previously watched and I have finally been able to move past the casting atrocities. And I’m even starting to forget my original versions of these wonderful characters. So, to forever lock my imagination in place, here are my original interpretations of some of the key characters in GAME OF THRONES:

ROBERT BARATHEON

Amanda's version: Henry VIII

TV version:

Not too shabby, but clearly, I imagined him fatter.

TYRION LANNISTER

Amanda's Version: Wee Man from Jackass

TV version:

Can you tell Tyrion is one of my least favorite characters? He's a close second after Bran. I am beyond bummed that Peter Dinklage makes him tolerable. I wanted to hate this character forever.

JON SNOW

Amanda's version: A dreamy Christian Bale from Newsies

TV version:

Jon Snow was supposed to be able to sing "Santa Fe" on cue. Sigh. Oh, what could have been...

JAIME LANNISTER

Book 1, he seemed to be written to be more sinister. Less attractive. So, book 1...

Amanda's Version: this guy from Knight's Tale only with blond hair

Book 2, suddenly he was attractive!!! And likeable!! So, this...

Amanda's Version:

TV version:

A decent match with the book 2 version, but what happened to book 1 Jaime?!

CATELYN STARK

Amanda's Version: Cate Blanchett (with red hair)

TV Version:

The show really aged many of the adults, and ugh...I hate it. And I'm sorry, but the actress they got for Catelyn can't hold a candle to my top pick, Cate Blanchett.

There are other disappointments, of course. Cersei is supposed to have awesome, curly golden hair. Not a wavy straw-colored wig. Daenerys is supposed to have silver hair and purple eyes. The Hound is supposed to be more menacing. Joffrey is supposed to actually be handsome. 

There are a few perfect picks, of course. Khal Drogo is spot on. As is Ned Stark and Varys. And Viserys. Definitely Viserys.

But the good ones don't make up for the bad ones. Especially when the good picks die one after the other and bad picks like Hodor live on to see another episode. And another. And another.

HODOR:

Amanda's Version:

TV version:

Yeah, I'll never get over how disappointing this one was. 

Bachelor of Arts in Awesomeness

So I'm in this process of creating an actual office for myself, which requires sifting through things and OH MAN, I REMEMBER THIS RANDOM THING FROM COLLEGE or high school or whatnot, because as I arrange this office area, I have to actually move stuff. Stuff that got tossed into this side room when we moved in a year ago and, well, there it's sat.

Anyway, I say this, because a moment ago I was poking around all of these boxes of good and bad memories, when I stumbled upon this envelope on the floor. Now I must say that this room isn't cluttered with stuff. So to stumble upon something without knowing it was there takes quite a bit of effort.

Especially when that something is your college diploma.

Alright, folks. Here's my big, bad confession. I've only looked at my diploma like twice in my life. I mean I'm pretty sure I checked it after receiving it to make sure it had my name spelled correctly. And I probably glanced at it after I pulled it out of my trunk (where it had lived for roughly a year post-graduation...because yes, I was that kid who left college with nothing but a car of possessions and $500 to my name...oh, and a diploma in the trunk. Quite Hallmark, wouldn't you say?). But other than those two probable events, I haven't looked at the thing.

Until now.

Am I the only one concerned by the fact that it nowhere states what my major was? I mean what happened to Bachelor of Arts in Dance or Bachelor of Arts in History or Bachelor of Arts in Guitar-Making? I mean this makes me look as though I had no major at all!! Just one of those "general studies" types, who end up working pottery studios where fifth grade birthday parties are held while the workers smoke pot in the back room!!!!!!

Okay, breathe. BREATHE, I SAY!!!!

But the school could so eeeeasily afford the stupid little protecitve tissue paper. Couldn't they afford ink for three more words? Three more simple, clarifying....

SNAP OUT OF IT!!!!!!

There has to be an upside--a way to turn this into a positive...

Like telling people I have a Bachelor of Arts in Medicine or Neurology or World Peace or ... SUPER MODELING.

You think they'll fall for it?

The month I was called Al

Once upon a time, when I worked at a marketing agency, my boss, who always referred to me as amanda, starting calling me AL in his email correspondence.

At first I thought it was just a simple error. A brain bubble, if you will. Because it was quite clear that my name was not Albert, or Alfred, or Aldo, or Alonzo, or Al Borland, or Alchemy (although I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to that last one).

But the mistake continued. And it got to the point where not only was I AL in email correspondence, but I became AL when he wanted to visit my desk to ask a question and AL when he greeted me upon entering the conference room.

I laughed it off, of course, because I am nothing if not a good sport (and highly aware of when I may be missing the big picture), but this activity continued for the better part of a month or so until it dawned on me...

The dawning occurred after a mass email went out, in which my boss not only referred to me as AL, but my coworkers Dennis B. and Erin A. as DB and EA.

So AL wasn’t a short form of Aldous or Alma. AL were my new initials. (Without the periods, of course. Because we know how tiresome periods can be when sending off quick emails). I just hadn’t realized it yet.

All of my assumptions of him being funny or mischievous or cryptic couldn’t have been farther from the truth. He was merely being accurate.

While I was left with the sudden realization that I’d be suck with a man’s name for my initials for the rest of my life.

The Funny Side of PTL

There is a certain Internet acronym called:

PTL

This fun, little guy is short for something very, very serious among us religious folk.

It means:

PRAISE THE LORD

But for the life of me, I can never seem to remember this when I run across it in an email or FB post. Instead, my mind translates it to mean:

PAIN IN THE ASS

Now, you may think that such a flub would result in endless laughter and hilarity! Because when your brain translates PTL to mean “pain in the ass,” what could possibly be funnier than reading:

Henry is out of the hospital, PTL, and back home!

Or:

PTL!! My in-laws made it here in time for Christmas!!!

Or:

PTL Amy is going to be assisting me at work!

But eventually, it gets annoying. Because there are some people that just PTL all over the place. It’s PTL this and PTL that, and despite my attempts to consciously switch the term to mean the RIGHT thing in my brain, there's no hope for the misread connotation. It sticks with me and refuses to change to the positive and hopeful. So in a nutshell, an email or note of extreme YAY-JESUS celebration becomes one, gigantic piece of angry that annoys me to death.

In other words, the PTLs still become PITAs.

And I’m back where I started.

The Trouble with Facebook

So remember the time the Internet came to the world and it was awesome? And then remember when MySpace showed up and that was even better, and then Facebook came and WOW SO AWESOME? Remember that?

And then remember how something horrible happened when you started realizing that some of your friends are terrible at things like, oh, I don’t know, grammar and punctuation? Remember that?

Remember how it annoyed you, but you were able to move past it?

And then remember when Facebook changed their rules and all of a sudden adults joined in and started sending you friend requests and you’re like “ok, cool” but then suddenly you realize it’s not just your friends that suck at spelling, but adults suck at it, too? And not just regular “who cares” adults, but adults that you used to think of as being really smart and savvy and awesome? Remember how these “do-no-wrong” adults would flaunt their inability to spell all over the Internet? And remember how your world came crashing down? Remember that?

And you tried to ignore it. You tried to tell yourself “hey, it’s not THAT big of a deal that this 50-year-old man whom I greatly admire has the spelling chops of a second grader. It doesn’t matter, because not everyone has to be great at grammar. Some people are gifted in different ways.”

But then on top of the really bad spelling, these people, who used to be so epic in your mind, begin to forget to use periods, resulting in endless run-on sentences without any conjunctions. And again you tell yourself it’s not a big deal. You tell yourself they’re still the same people they were before Facebook. Before the Internet. Before the world advertised their educational missteps. And you try to not feel like you’re smarter than they are, but you can’t help it. Because doesn’t poor grammar equal not-as-smart?

And then just when you’re feeling badly about looking down upon others in such a villain-in-a-Dickens-novel way, you realize there’s no way for someone to write THAT poorly. For someone to be THAT bad at grammar, yet still so well spoken and awesome. And then it hits you. 

This issue has nothing to do with poor education, but everything to do with laziness.

And you get really angry, because to YOU punctuation and grammar are very important. After all, if we all spoke in brocken english how would we ever take each otherr seriusly huh tell me what wuld come of the world

And so you grit your teeth as you read status update after run-on status update and your blood starts to boil and you shake your head at their laziness.

And then, after double checking your punctuation and looking up the meaning of a word before you plaster it on Facebook for all the world to see, you hit “post” only to realize you’ve made a stupid error and NOW EVERYONE IS GOING TO SEE IT AND THINK THAT YOU’RE DUMB.

And suddenly you envy those free spirits. Those run-on beatniks. Those syntax hippies. Those alphabet nonconformists.

They have what you don’t. What you will never have. The ability to speak without spellcheck. To type without the thesaurus. To post ... to post without remorse.

So maybe these adults that were so awesome and amazing before the Internet are still awesome and amazing because they aren't bound by the rules of the English language. They're free.

And you realize that even online, you are still the lowly padawan and they, all-knowing Jedi masters.

And once again, they are awesome in your mind.