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Dear Santa,

The last few years I have asked for protection against robotic lawnmowers and real life furbies. Maybe, it's the recession but this year, I want actual stuff. Oh no, not just any stuff. I want awesome stuff. For your consideration are:

The ninja master prep blender and food processor. Yes, I already have a fancy blender that works for all of my food processing needs. No, I do not have that many food processing needs. However, I fell in love with the infomercial. As far as I can tell it's just a regular food processor that has the word ninja on it. Good enough for me. However I just love the phrases "ninja technology" and "ninja blade technology". Finally we have harnessed the awesomeness of ninjas into kitchen appliances. My current blender is not a ninja and therefore not good enough. Also, I suspect that whoever came up with this marketing campaign would be a suitable spouse for me. Please introduce us Santa.



These are not shoes that I would ever actually wear but I want them anyways. I was recently introduced to the word "shootie". I guess it's half boot half shoe. I don't think I'd want to marry whoever came up with that word. My money is on the ninja marketing campaign guy. I just want a pair so whenever someone says "I like your shoes." I can say "Excuse me, they are shooties."

I had one of those slow motion moments today where I half wished that I had a video camera. You know those times when you just can't prevent an action fast enough while you scream "noooooo" mentally? I was sitting in my car looking at a salad in a parking lot. I too, was wondering why there was a salad in a parking lot. I knew it was from Cafe Rio, I recognized the huge tinfoil salad plate and the accompanying side of dressing. I was mostly confused why someone chose not to finish the salad because it is notoriously yummy. I was even more confused as to why that person then placed it perfectly in the middle of a parking space with the dressing cup right next to it.

Perhaps the vegetarian hoodlum had a clue as to what would happen next. A nicely washed car pulled up and ran over the salad while I watched in horror. The ranch splashed everywhere and the girl was completely clueless as to what she hit. I was too frozen to mutter "You just ran over a salad" because I didn't want her to think I was somehow connected to the ranch dressing debacle. I wish I had rolled down the window and said "You just ran over a salad." because I'll never get to say that again. Excuse me now while I go form my new band "salad in a parking lot."

Usually I make fun of people and we all have a good laugh. Except today because today I was one of those people. My ergonomic tweezers weren't working out. Yes, I bought ergonomic tweezers, as if that will somehow keep me from getting carpal tunnel syndrome when I don't even have an ergonomic keyboard. You know the keyboard that I type at 40+ hours a week? Yeah, that one. So the ergonomic-ness of the tweezers prevents any actual tweezing and I never really thought I looked like Brooke Shields until I bought them. So I headed over to the store, thinking how smart I am. I'm the girl who is no longer going to depend on ergonomic tweezers.

I brought my new purchase home, so proud of myself. As I was happily forming my eyebrows to look less like a Sesame Street character it hit me. I had become one of those people I constantly make fun of. What had I bought? Comfort grip tweezers with extra wide plastic handles. That's right, comfort grip. As I rip the hair from my face I don't want my fingers to hurt, makes perfect sense.

List of Things I can Never Get Right

Dating
Tweezers