If Mick Jagger and Napoleon Dynamite Had a Love Child

I did a google image search for
Napoleon Dynamite and Mick
Jagger's Love Child and no freaking
joke - Dwight Schrute came up.
Since the Internet knows everything
the secret is fully out.

I have always been known for my keen fashion sense repertoire of Disney songs extreme gracefulness. It's like there's a ballerina trapped inside my body, stumbling around trying to break free.  It's ironic that even my inner ballerina is stumbling.  Well, maybe in an Alanis kind of way,  in which "ironic" means "a big bummer."  Since it's Facebook Friday (two weeks in a row!) I have collected the Facebook Statuses I have posted about my *sweet moves* (say it like you are Napoleon Dynamite) through the years.

On being awesome at home:

Accidently macing yourself with non-stick cooking spray pretty much sets the tone for the day.

Always wear your glasses (and your shoes) when attempting to show a pine cone your "mad" (i.e. non-existent) soccer skills.  If you don't you might discover that pine cone is really poop.

25,000 Awesome Points for wedging the colander in the sink at the perfect angle so that my freshly cooked pasta could move seamlessly from pot to colander to garbage disposal.

If cleaning the bathroom wasn't fun enough, I just plated a quick game of Catch the Brand New Roll of Paper Towel Before it Falls into the Toilet, and lost.

On being awesome in public:

The correct order to exiting the fitting room at JC Penney is: shirt on, coat on, open door.  A slight deviation in that order and you have to add the step: freak out as you make a sound that is a cross between a yelp of horror and the words, "I forgot my shirt!"  P.S. In spite of my peep show, the doorbusters were awesome.

The best way to handle the Crazy Psycho Woman coming straight at you with her cart as you enter Target is to realize she is your reflection in the automatic doors.

In my defense, in the Walmart by my house the WOMEN'S bathroom is on the left.

Don't assume you can bully the automatic door to open faster by charging purposefully toward it. You will end up smashing forcefully chest first and making a cool noise that sounds like, "Ugh-huh," and conceding the automatic door is superior, while glancing around to see how many have witnessed your shame.

You know when it's raining, and you've finally loaded all the groceries into your car, and you just want to get home, but the trunk won't shut because the toilet paper is in the way, so you get all, "Idon'thaveTIMEforthisit'srainingandI'mtired" and you use brute force to close the trunk because YOU are the BOSS of the toilet paper? Yeah, well, it wasn't the toilet paper.  It was the grapes.

**********

"Oh, Kelly.  You are a disaster.  How do you have any friends self-esteem?"
To answer your question, "Um, it's called swag and it's how you remain *flippin' sweet* (say it like you are Napoleon Dynamite) as you pull all this off."

One time I was on the phone with AT&T for eight and a half hours.  Straight.   My internet wasn't working and an awesome computer support person in California was working diligently with me to resolve the issue.  Which meant I had eight and a half hours to be wedged under my computer desk with the phone glued to my ear as I tried to implement the solutions suggested.  My second favorite part of this phone call was when computer support asked me if I had a Mac or a PC.  My answer?  "Um, it's black,"  like she had just asked me what kind of car I drove.  ("Um, it's silver.  And AMERICAN, because I'm from MICHIGAN.  And I DON'T HATE FREEDOM."  For the unions.  You're welcome.  Support my blog.)  My absolute favorite part of this eight and a half hour phone call?  When we exhausted our "fixing it" options and realized it was a billing issue.  So, five minutes later I had the correct credit card on file and my internet was back.  True story. 

Happy Friday!  See y'all Monday.*

*Which?  Fourth of July is Wednesday, only a mere two days after the weekend, so isn't it simply prudent to take a five six day weekend?  Thinkaboutit.