Panic! At the Disco (And By "Disco", I Mean "Mall")

Nothin' like a couple good panic attacks to bring on the weekend! I took a much needed afternoon off and spent the day with my mom and Prinna at the good ol' Mall of America. YAY! Shopping! Air conditioning (it was 100 freakin' degrees today)! Relaxing time with the girls!

Strike that. It was decidedly NOT relaxing.

Okay, first of all, we're meandering along, chit chatting, and then this guy steps up to us and is all "Hey, we're fashion school students, and we're doing some little on-camera interviews for a project. Would you guys want to help us out?" Me? In a FASHION project? Yes please! We walked over to the camera, he wired Prinna up with a mic and we stood there all cool as cucumbers. Then, the camera guy flips on his camera and my bones freeze up. All I can do while they're asking us questions is to giggle uncomfortably, and, with silent urging, deferred all questions to Prinna. She kept nudging me, being like "Uh, helloooo?! Am I alone in this? Do you speaky English?!" And I just sweated profusely and giggled the WHOLE TIME. Prinna, though, was a pro.

So the camera thing ends, and we continue on our way. I'm babbling and giggling like an idiot, and Prinna is like "So, they like never got a waiver or our names or anything. Was that weird?!" And I was all "I couldn't feel my face the WHOLE TIME!" So, that was, uh, terrifying.

We continue shopping. I'm looking for a swimsuit, so I may as well be looking for a human torture chamber. Which, coincidentally, we find! Folks? Unless you are Heidi Klum, do NOT shop at Everything But Water. (Sidenote: I WANTED to go to J.Crew to get a suit, but we discover upon walking in that they don't even HAVE swimsuits in their stores anymore! Just online! RUDE!) Okay, so back to the nightmare that was Everything But Water.

First, let me state that it was an unfortunate decision I had made this morning to put on World's Most Annoying Outfit. I had a side-zip dress, with a ribbon belt, a tank top, and a cardigan. It took 45 minutes to get the whole mess off.

Okay, so I manage to find a few suits I'd like to try on. I go on over to the fitting rooms/torture chambers and discover that they don't even have LOCKS ON THEIR FITTING ROOM DOORS, which would negate the "Everything But..." part of their store name. Prinna and my mom are trying to be very helpful, but in that lockless fitting room it is just me and the swimsuits. The showdown begins.

So I finally wrestle my way into what turns out to be a pretty durn cute suit (still constantly afraid of the unlockable door). I'm feeling pretty good with it. I call to my mom and Prinna to come and scope it out, and I push open the door like 3 inches only to come face-to-face with the very nosy salesgirl. "Oh, hi," says I. She's all bubbly and teeny and a liar. "LOVE that suit on you! So cute!" Ugh. Lies. Whatever. I'm on a mission, lady. So Prinna and my mom like the suit. I get into aggressive arguments with try on a few more suits. We all agree the first was the best. Really? All that other work for NOTHING!?

I'm trying to work my way back into my dress (oh yeah, the fitting room is approx. 2 feet by one foot big) and I can hear my mom and sister calling my name. I'm completely panicked, thinking one of them is about to whip open the lockless door, and can't get my arms in the arm holes right, and I'm getting tangled up in the ribbon belt, and I keep smooshing myself against the mirror. Mercifully, I finally exit the dressing room, sweating and angry. The suit is completely ridiculously expensive, but we just get it so I can get the H.E.double-hockey-sticks out of there.

Here's where Everything But Water could improve their store. One: put locks on the doors, jerks. Women are almost NAKED, and poorly lit, in there. Geez. Two: Serve wine before anyone tries on anything. Three: Don't call yourself "Everything but Water" when the ONLY thing you sell is swimsuits. The incorrectness of the store name just made me more mad.

BUT! I got a new suit, and I LUUUURVE it! Despite the panic and anxiety and frustration it took to finally bring it home, it was worth it. This weekend, when I'm at my parents cabin with the fam, I'll be strutting around in all that hotness. So guys, even if you've had a crazy, panicky, stressful week full of random camera guys and patronizing saleswomen, I hope you all enjoy the long lovely weekend ahead!

Dear Crabby

I was wondering today if I give ADvice or BADvice. I decided that it doesn't matter, because I'm just always right. Here are some more pearls of wisdom!

Dear Crabby,

So, I'm going to my boyfriend's parents cabin this weekend. We thought we'd be there alone, so I was all set to get a savage tan in my new barely-there bikini. But now his parents are coming too! Do I need to stash the new 'kini and bring a dumb ol' one-piece? Does the amount of skin I decide to show have a big impact on how his parents see me??

Thanks,
What's a Suitable Suit?

Hey there, Suitable Suit!

Listen, I totally get the desire for a "savage tan" (by the way, that phrase is awesome and not used NEARLY enough these days!) And 4th of July weekend is a great time to let it all hang out and catch some rays and relax. Having said that, maybe leave the dental floss suit at home this weekend. (Might I suggest picking one up at J.Crew? They have the best suits.) Why run the risk of offending them just to tan your butt cheeks? You don't need to cover up like an Amish woman, obvs. I mean, it's a cabin and you're on vacation, but you don't need to go all Brooklyn-Decker on his parents. If you want to stay on their good side, cover up your back side. And your boobs too, if you're blessed with a big set. Good luck, kid.

Dear Crabby,

What's the best way to show my patriotism this weekend? I really feel like gettin' crazy and being that girl this weekend. Any and all suggestions welcome!

Thank you so much!
-Red, White and Woo Hoo!

Well, Red White and Woo Hoo, you sound like a GOOD TIME. I feel like you and I could be friends in real life. With that in mind, here's my suggestion. (You can steal the idea if you want.) Last year, we had a 4th of July costume contest in my family, and I WON. Here's why:

I can't EXPLAIN the costume, but it was sick. Unicorn hat? Check. American flag worn as a dress closed with a big silver belt? Double check. Silver eye shadow worn as face paint a la Ke$ha? Tik Tok. I'll allow you to copy this epic creation, as long as you give me credit. And 10% of any money you might make off of wearing such an awesome costume.

Dear Crabby,

I have no plans for 4th of July. Am I a loser?

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO,
An Independent Woman

What's up, Independent Woman?

Um, yeah, I think it makes you a bit of a loser. Sorry. Now, that's not necessarily a BAD THING. Sometimes I'm the only person I want to hang out with anyways, because, well, I'm pretty bada$$. Or maybe you've been too busy or lazy to make plans yet. Whatever. that's all good. But if you've begged people to hang out and got no takers, then yeah, you're probably a bit of a loser. Technically, though, it IS Independence Day this weekend, so maybe flaunting your independence will be awesome. Either way, good luck!

How strange that all the questions this week had to do with the 4th of July! Crazy! I'm kind of disappointed no one wanted to talk about Canada Day (which is today, right!?) but, maybe next year [crosses fingers]? Meanwhile, send your questions, as usual, to pharonsquare@gmail.com. Give me some juicy stuff to work with, dudes!

tWINs! (But I LOSE) - Updated!

Finally! I FINALLY made it to Twins baseball game at our new outdoor stadium. To say the weather was perfect would be an understatement. It was lovely and perfect and fun. At one point, I looked at Geo and was all "Gross! There are bugs! There were never BUGS in the Metrodome!" To which he replied "You're the 400th person to make that joke." Whoa, sorry, fun hater.

Anyway, I was going to log my adventure here via photo journalism, but nothing at my disposal will upload my crap pictures from my crap phone right now. I will DEFINITELY update as soon as everything gets back on track, though! Stay tuned, y'all!

UPDATE!

Okay, I think blogger is working now...let's give this a shot. Yes, I realize the pics are horrible quality, but I have the world's worst camera on the world's worst phone.  Build a bridge and get over it.  So! When we got to the game, here's what we saw:

This big board is approximately a zillion times larger than the jumbo-tron thing at the Metrodome. Waaaaaaay better.


Aww, look! St. Paul and Minneapolis are best friends! (Even though St. Paul is probably the kind of friend who always smells like cat litter, Minneapolis is still being friends with him.)


And the lovely view from our seats!


Until...


Hey!  Where'd the batter go? Yeah, World's Biggest Head man sat right in front of me! Rude! Luckily, Geo was nice enough to switch seats with me. Here's the new view:


BLURG!

Time to stretch his legs!


Oh well, the Twins won! It was such a nice game, and I kept telling Geo how awesome it was to be watching the game outside, and the weather felt "room temperature", so that was perfect! I'm so glad I FINALLY got a chance to go to a game!

Oh, and I was ALSO glad that professional athletes still do the same thing I used to do after my 3rd grade soccer games. The walking line of shaking hands!


"Good game, good game, good game, your butt smells, good game, good game..."

A Pubic Service Announcement

We have reached critical mass, guys. With all the different social media and sharing sites out there, there is FAR too much information being shared. Primarily, I'd like to address the troubling situation that involves men (typically politicians and professional athletes) sending pictures of their, um, twig and berries to women they are not married to. Guys? I want to take a minute and let you in on a little secret. No girl wants to open up their phone or Twitter account and find an unwelcome naked picture of you. I promise you...No one. So, please, for the love of everything that is good in this world, Stop Taking And Sending Pictures of Your Tiddleywink To Women (especially if you are CHEATING on someone else to do it).

I'm not quite sure where or why this horrible phenomenon started. You'd think if ONE powerful, well-known guy gets caught with his pants down, these guys would think twice about tweeting their tweeter. (Anthony Weiner, I'm looking at you.) I mean, COME ON! It's the dumbest thing you could ever do. Those pictures are the Fanny Packs of over-sharing. They're tacky, very ugly, and you just do NOT want photographic evidence of you showing it off.

I listened to a podcast lately, where one of the guys was pondering the infamous Weinergate, and he asked, “Do girls like that? I mean, do they open up an X-rated picture and be like ‘Oooh, that’s nice!’?” The answer is, of course, NO. It’s disturbing. I imagine these women – whoever they are unlucky enough to be – thinking “Ooh, a text message from Brett Favre?! Score! I can’t wait to see what he has to…ohmygod. Oh no. What IS that!? EW! What would possess him to send…oh, nasty. Seriously. I have to show this to every one of my girl friends STAT so that the burning sensation in my eyes is dispersed. Ugh, seriously. I can’t…why would he…was this on purpose? And, ohmygod, are those CROCS?! My eyes!! MY EYES!"

The point I’m desperate to make here is that I can’t believe adult men – who are in power or the public eye - can’t seem to figure out that sending X-rated pictures of themselves to random women to is not only WRONG but just very tasteless. It’s like texting a picture of a beer can tower you made in college – you may be very pleased with yourself, but I assure you, no one else cares, and chicks certainly don’t think it’s very impressive.

Remember a few years ago when we couldn't go five days without hearing about some celebutante getting out of her car and flashing the whole world because she couldn't be bothered to slip on a pair of Jockeys? Yeah, that got very old very quickly. But (in most cases) they weren't doing it ON PURPOSE. And they were young, stupid girls. Not grown, married men who just don't know how to use their smartphones.

Yeah, this has just been annoying me so much lately. Is it THAT difficult to expect these leaders to just be decent men? For a LONG time I've been quizzing my friends to come up with ONE famous woman who has gotten caught cheating on their husband/boyfriend because of a carelessly sent text, because I didn't want to appear sexist here. But no one has come up with ANYONE. Either woman are better liars, which could very well be, or we are just flat out smarter and more moral than our male counterparts. (Truth be told, we couldn't even think of any famous woman who has CHEATED on her beau - if you can think of one, let me know. It's been driving us all berzerk.)

Anyway, it feels good to get that off my chest. I've been so annoyed by the stupidity of these dummies. So I guess here's my advice to anyone (man or woman) who thinks of putting out photographic evidence of your infidelity and idiocy: If you find yourself in a situation where you get that instinct, like “Hey, I think this is a good time to stick my phone down my pants and snap a pic!” PUT THE PHONE DOWN AND WALK AWAY. It's NOT going to be as cool as you think it is. It's going to be terrible for your rep and only opens the door for late night comedians to mock you mercilessly.

Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

Clothes Call

On the surface, me spending the day on the couch all day today watching a My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding marathon may lead you to believe I wasn't being very productive this weekend. You'd be wrong, though. Geo was all "Are you going to do anything today?" as he left for like the third time today. I sat up on the couch and said "Lay off, man!" before I laid right back down. I got a lot done before today, so on Sunday, I rested.

Our landlady sent us this very brief email on Friday being all "I'm showing your house today at 4:30. Thanks." Gee, thanks for the 24 hour notice! So, instead of enjoying myself on my half day off work, I had to spend the day cleaning my house so it was presentable for strangers to wander around it. Lame.

But then I was in the cleaning spirit. On Saturday, I spent the day de-crapping my wardrobe. I have a closet in my room, a wardrobe, a dresser, and a spare closet in the office next to my room. I realized a couple weeks ago that no matter where I move in the next month, I wasn't going to have all that room to store clothes I never wear. So I had to do some work.

I tore all the clothes out from the bags under my bed, the shelves in the back of my closets, and out the drawers I call "spare clothes drawers. All the clothes I brought out were clothes I haven't worn for at least a year. In some cases, I haven't worn them since college. Some of them were hideous, too. So, I brought up a garbage bag and got to work. Turns out, one garbage bag was def not enough.

Here's a picture of the SECOND pile (out of three) I'd heaped onto the floor:

After sorting through each and every article of clothing, I ended up with this:

Four bags of clothes and shoes I'll never wear again, but I kept for, uh, I guess I don't KNOW why I've kept them all for so long. I just kept never throwing anything away. And hey, I thought, maybe that leopard print silk backless tank that doesn't fit me any more WILL come back in style.

Now the decision is whether or not to throw the clothes, drop them off at Goodwill, or sort through everything and sell some. Let's be honest, though. My guess is that I'll be seeing the homeless people who dig through the garbage dressed in my awesome denim overalls and floral-print bustiers pretty soon.

But I feel good having purged all that clutter from my closets. It'll make packing up my clothes much easier. And it's just one of the pre-move out projects I needed to get done. So NO, Geo, I didn't just lay on the couch all day today. I mourned the loss of all my bar shirts and too-small jeans and stained skirts. Have some respect, man...

Alright, let's get this week started!

Don't Get Fresh

I have nothing of importance to add to the day. It was a blaaaahhhh day, punctuated only by Geo kicking me out of the house so he and his friends could play Settlers of Catan. Okay, he didn't technically KICK ME OUT, but a room full of dudes playing Settlers is basically my unspoken cue to leave the premises.

I went to Liz's to chill, and it was super fun. So this is very random, and I don't know WHY, but I kind of got stuck on a word today, and it's been driving me nuts with the horrible, terrible way people have been using it lately. So, whatever, here's a guide for when TO and when NOT TO use the following word:

FRESH.

Things that ARE fresh:

* New shoes (If they are, in fact, super fresh)
* Fruit (yum!)
* Laundry (sheets/towels)
* Attitudes (Word.)

Things that are NOT fresh:

* Meat (Gross - I want my meat DEAD for sure, and like, probably RECENTLY dead. But "Fresh Meat" only makes me think of the poor animal who was alive not 24 hours ago who had to give their life for my tasty, tasty burger.) Try instead: Trust Us, It's Safe Meat
* Batteries (People who say "fresh batteries" get on my nerves. Batteries are either full or dead. Not fresh or stale. Old batteries can work just as well as new batteries, as long as they are FULL.) Try instead: Full or new batteries.
* Fresh Step Kitty Litter (There is nothing "fresh" about an animal walking around in its own poop and pee. It's gross. It may SMELL better, or, like have less bacteria, but the sand in which a cat does her business is decidedly NOT FRESH.) Try instead: NOT the most disgusting product you could buy for a household pet.
* Breath. (Breath cannot be fresh. It can be clean, or minty, or garlic-free, but "fresh breath" is just not a real thing. Everyone's mouth is a steamy 98.6 degrees of hot, contagious bacteria. There's nothing "fresh" about it.)

Did I miss any? Guys, I don't know WHY "fresh" got stuck in my head today, but whatevs. It annoyed me. I guess it's just food for thought for the weekend. Don't say "fresh" when you mean something else is all. Okay, you guys have a stellar weekend, alright? And just don't get fresh with anyone...

Dear Crabby

Great news! I'm very crabby tonight, so it makes writing a Dear Crabby column totes appropes!! Let's get this over with...(See? Crabby.)

Dear Crabby,

My boyfriend NEVER cleans up after himself at home. There are dishes everywhere, and he does this thing where he puts empty bottles back in the fridge to "remind himself to get more" of whatever it is. It drives me nuts! How do I get him to stop being a lazy jerk?

Thanks,
Clean Freak

Dear Clean Freak,

Geez, either you have to get over it, or you have to just say something. From experience, I'll tell you nagging will NOT WORK. Don't nag. Don't passive-aggressively "remind" him by leaving notes or making chore wheels. The best way to get a guy to do something is to talk to him like a guy. (I heard some comic or something suggest this once, and it totes works every time.) You don't have to worry about hurting his feelings, either. You just walk in the house, and if it's messy, just say "Dude, clean up your crap." Then walk out of the room and do something else. Don't give him the silent treatment or anything, just say something and eventually he'll do whatever you need him to do. He won't do it right away, because "you're not the boss of him". But he'll do it. If that doesn't work, move out. He'll get the hint.

Dear Crabby,

My boyfriend and I have been fighting so much lately! About dumb stuff, too, but we just keep arguing about everything. Here's the thing, though. My lease is up in August, and so we've ALSO been thinking of moving in together, but since all we do is fight lately, I'm starting to think it's not a good idea. When we AREN'T fighting, everything is great, so I don't want to lose that. And we both really want to get more serious together. All my friends seem to have different opinions, so I wanted to get your take. What should I do?!

Love,
To Move or Not To Move

Sorry, TMONTM, but you guys sound pretty miserable. Why are you fighting so much? Cut it out! I feel sorry for your friends, though. Chances are that none of your friends can stand listening to the two of you talk about all your fighting, so you might not have any other roommate options anymore anyway! A couple who fights constantly yet still decides to hurl themselves more and more into their dysfunctional relationship, despite obvious red flags, is just plain annoying. Give your friends, and yourself a break and don't do anything crazy. Take a step back, fix the fighting, and THEN decide if moving is a good idea. My guess is that moving in together will be terrible and you'll end up hating each other and one of you will probably put syrup in the other's shampoo bottle before stealing the coffee maker and moving out in the middle of the night ANYWAYS. So save yourself some time, some sanity, and some syrup, and don't move in together yet.

Dear Crabby,

I'm a regular 27 year-old chick. I have a full-time job in an office, and I live in a really nice apartment in the 'burbs. Here's the problem: I have about 23 stuffed teddy bears in my room that I LOVE and keep all over the place. Do you think it's a deal-breaker for guys who come over to see all the bears?

Xoxoxox,
Bearly Legal

Hey Bearly Legal,

It's not just a deal-breaker for GUYS to walk into your own personal Build-a-Bear Workshop, it's a deal-breaker for EVERYONE. You're not 6 years old, so it's not cute to have all that crap around, it's, like, freaky. Why do you need them all anyways? Here's my advice. You basically have three options: throw them away, store them in a chest somewhere deep in the bowels of a closet, or just prepare to be single forever. It's up to you. Try replacing the creepy stuffed animals with something more adult, like throw pillows. Or issues of Vogue. Or bottles of wine. ANYTHING but toys...seriously. It's time to say "ba-bye" to all the widdle guys. Or, you know, you could just start investing in 1,000 cats to keep those bears company because you're going to be very single for a very long time if you don't put them away.

Yeah, okay, so those were pretty good questions. I hope I wasn't too harsh. Even if I was, though, I'm okay with that. Sometimes you just need to stop being polite, and start being real. Thanks, Real World! You know the drill, Squares. Email me at pharonsquare@gmail.com to get the kind of advice you don't WANT to hear, but NEED to hear. I'm off to bed to try and shake this crabbiness! Be good out there, guys!

Date Night

I feel kind of bad, dudes. Geo went out of his way to plan a very lovely date for us this weekend, and I had to keep delaying a post writing about it, what with Father's Day and THE event of the century (Pharon Square's first birthday, duh!) Anywho, so Geo and I went on a full day of dates on Saturday. Full disclosure: He HAD to plan a big date, because it was this week’s Good Guys to Know challenge (if you aren’t listening to this podcast, get it together and start listening. They post one every other Thursday. I don’t know why I plug that podcast, because not ONCE have they returned the favor and gushed about pharonsquare.com. Good JERKS to Know, more like it…kidding!)

At any rate, each of the guys had to plan a date for his girlfriend/wife and the best date wins the challenge. Despite the fact that I was but a pawn in Geo’s perpetual goal to win all things competitive, we had an awesome time. Plus, I was desperate to get out of my house for a night. It's been 23 days in a row (yup, I've counted) that at least one person who does not live here has strolled in and out of my house, and I was over it.

So, basically, the date was a wine tasting, board games at this awesome bar in NE Minneapolis (The Chatterbox), then dinner at a fancy hotel where we stayed for the night. We also got free champagne out of the deal, but Geo won't let me post the pictures of him trying to open the bottle. It was super fun. Just me and Geo for a change. I was pleasantly surprised that he we could stand my each other's sole company for that long.

Because it's really the only part of the day we took pictures, here's a little looksie at our wine tasting adventure. We went to Goose Lake Winery and Farm and got started on the wine tasting. I tried something called "Chokecherry Wine" and it was, um, very choke-y. Blech. Then we tried 6 other wines, which were okay. I’m VERY glad we did the wine tasting BEFORE venturing out around the rest of the farm to explore, because the first thing we ran into was this terrifying beast:

Ewwwwww! That is a LLAMA. It is probably the ugliest animal ever. Its eyes told me it wanted to eat me whole. Plus, it peed right in front of us for, like, 5 minutes straight. Not Joking. It was traumatizing. Then some chickens wandered over to the Ugliest Creature Alive and just hung out.

The chickens were all walking around the knobby-kneed freak shows and smelling their pee and stuff. I was all, "Nature is DISGUSTING". But then we saw these:

There were all these peacocks wandering around! They made me like nature again. I said “Geo, I wanna go take a picture next to one!” And he said “No way, they’ll attack you. They’re vicious”. Which, it turns out, is a huge lie. I found out because I was explaining to one of the staff members about how vicious I had heard the peacocks were, and they just laughed and laughed and laughed. Jerk, Geo.

All in all, it was a really awesome date. I wish we could do things like that more often, and not just because a podcast told us to do it. But it was, at the very least, a welcome respite from the chaos and constant action at my house. Who cares, though? It was definitely perfect!

Happy Birthday, Pharon Square!

Big news, peeps! It's officially Pharon Square's first birthday!!! That's right, you guys, this post officially marks one year - to the day! - that I've been enriching (or ruining) your lives with tales from mine. I couldn't believe it when I went back to check the date of my first post. It feels like only yesterday I was trying to be all formal and informative, like I tried in my first blogs. Did I really try and write a blog about paradoxes? And really, with that terrible experiment in writing a fictional story about some chick? Luckily, it didn't take long for me to settle in to my blogging voice.

Can you believe it, though? Let's see, that's five posts a week for 52 weeks. Someone do that math for me. Oh, thanks, Google! You guys, that's 260 blogs. Minus one or two here and there, and that still leaves over 250 posts about, basically, utter nonsense. And here you are, still reading. Either I'm the luckiest girl in the world, or you guys need to find a hobby.

But, I love this blog. I love writing it and re-reading it and blackmailing my friends into reading it. What started as a passion for writing and need to talk incessantly about myself has changed into so much more this year. Okay, not MUCH more, but still more. I mean, I now devote one column a week to solving your problems and early on when I'd recognize my favorite people of the week. As much as this blog started so I could talk about ME, it's turned into something that I love to do FOR YOU. And also for me. Yeah, it's still primarily for ME. Whatevs.

I know there's that little list off to the side there -----> (somewhere over there in that column) that shows the top blog posts, but because it's MY BLOG'S birthday, I wanted to list my personal Top Five, because I'm vain like that. (Plus, we all know how much I love making lists.) Here we go...

#5. An Urban Fairy Tale. It's the story of meeting Geo, and also of moving into my lovely house. It was all bright-eyed and nostalgic. Now that I'm getting ready to move, and Geo's going to Alabummer, it's a good reminder that this place will go down in history as the best place ever.

#4. Concast. It just felt sooooo incredibly good to whine about the Worst Company in the World.

#3. Crazy People Have the Worst Manners. Because, seriously, who doesn't LOVE stories about crazy people?!

#2. Hot Mess. For reals, yo, it was so hot that day. I still like reading that post and laughing at my own misery.

#1. You know what? I think THIS blog is my favorite. I feel like I've hit my stride, and I know how to write for this blog. I've got the best readers anywhere, and without you guys, I wouldn't have made it 6 months, let alone a full year. I'm excited for the next year of posts, and I hope you are too. (Even if you're not, just lie, man.)

So thank you, from the heart of my bottom, for reading every week. And to those of you who also "Like" Pharon Square on Facebook and RT my very prolific tweets, and share my blog on your own blogs, I can't tell you how much I totally love and appreciate it!

Here's to another year of my incessant ramblings. I hope you'll continue to laugh at with me!

Top Pops

Well Happy Father's Day to all the dads and daddies out there!  Most importantly, though, Happy Father's day to MY dad.  My dad is the best.  He's kind, brilliant, and always good for a quick one-liner.  Today I spent the afternoon with my pops watching golf and just chilling with my family.  I brought over my laundry, and discussed where his dear ol' daughter (me) was going to live in a month and a half.  Did I ever consider BUYING a house, he asked?  No, Dad, in fact it's not entirely out of the question that you and I could be roommies again.  He must be so proud...Then we all went out to dinner and generously allowed him to pay for it.  What a great day!

I did some reflecting on my relationship with my dad. Growing up, I was the giggling, boy-crazy rule-breaker he might not have expected.  I was, admittedly, a tough cookie to raise.  How can a grown man understand the horrifyingly dramatic range of emotions of a teenage girl?  It all worked, though.  He is yin where I am yang.  He is logical where I am impetuous.  He is quiet and thoughtful where I am loudly opinionated and stubborn.  But yeah, it works.

I was thinking of what a Father's Day really is.  I think it's a day to, like, make ammends for the ridiculous drama I have brought to my dad.  From the first time I shrieked "I HATE YOU!" when I couldn't go to my first boy-girl party, to the time my parents showed up to visit me for the first time in college and I had gotten my eyebrow pierced (my dad wouldn't even look at my newly-mangled face - but, before heading back home, he slipped some cash in my hand "for scar revision"), to today when I explained that I just am not sure where I'll be living in a couple months.  I've put him (and my mom, of course) through the wringer.

But, I've learned a lot of good things, thanks to him.  I have the perfect handshake of a confident woman (taught to me by my dad when I was all of 13 years old), I know not to spend money I don't have thanks to his careful and frequent reminders of money management, and I (try to) do research on big things before committing - things like leasing a car.  He made me do my own taxes when I was like 16 with a pencil and piece of paper because I "should know how to do these things".  He encourages me to be curious and to work hard for things I want.  Though, he probably didn't intend for those "things" to be Kate Spade bags and new shoes.  But the point is, I learned the lesson.  I think probably the biggest thing is that he teaches me to be an independent person.  To think for myself and to trust myself when I am faced with problems.

That's not to say he hasn't helped me out of my fair share of jams.  After I found myself without a job after college, I was in the unfortunate situation of having to ask my parents for some, uh, financial sponsorship.  Without one "I told you so" or "you should have been more careful with your money", he silently helped me out, knowing that I was disappointed in myself enough for the both of us.  When I was fumbling my way through trying to replace an old car, he came home and handed me a few carefully researched options and said "Let's go take some test drives" and hardly flinched when I said "Ooooh, does this one come in that navy purple color?!"  When I gave up on my Journalism major in favor of the much more vague English major, he left books called "I Have an English Degree, Now What?!" and whatnot on the kitchen counter instead of badgering me about what I planned to do with my new, directionless future.

I'm a lucky girl, no doubt.  For all the drama that a girl can put her father through, my dad has made it look almost easy.  And even though I can't do math, and I don't know exactly what a "mortgage" is, he never seems to be disappointed in me.  Need I remind you all that I'm the girl who thought Chicago was 25,000 miles away from Minneapolis?  Or that I quit a long, successful soccer career in high school to be a cheerleader?  Or that, even after he got me a drum set for a Christmas present when I was in 4th grade, I went ahead and chose to play the flute?  Yeah, it's like I would go out of my way to the opposite of what he was hinting at.  Children...what a blessing.  


So for any of you new (or old) dads out there, take it from this well-adjusted, intelligent (stop laughing) young woman:  Treat your kids well, and support them.  Help them when they need it, but don't just do everything FOR them.  Be an example for them.  Set the bar high and don't be surprised when they reach it.  And don't be a jerk to them when they fall short.  And even when you just straight up don't understand your kids, trust that loving them is all they need to find success.  These are all the things my pops has done for me, and it feels pretty incredible knowing I have that kind of man in my life.

And okay, so because I feel all "make-ammends-y" right now, I have to confess a couple other things.  Dad, I recently fixed a leaky faucet with a piece of duct tape.  And I drove my car for like 6 months after it was due to get an oil change.  I NEVER take out the trash at home because I told Geo it's too heavy and I don't know which trash can is ours.  Oh, and instead of taking care of getting my hail damage fixed on my car, I spent my night tonight painting my nails and watching TV.  But, also, I wrote a totally awesome blog about my totally awesome dad.  That makes it a wash, right?

Happy Father's Day, Dad!  I love you and I'm so thankful for everything you do!  Also, thanks for paying for our dinner tonight - I would have, but you're the one who said I shouldn't spend money I don't have.  Yeah, you can blame yourself for that one...

Thievery Corporation

So. Full. Can't. Feel. My. Feet. I went and had a couple drinks with my friend Nick tonight and I ate the crap out of this ginormous burger with fries. And also nachos. Nick told me that it's, like, healthy to stretch out my stomach every once in awhile, so I felt a little better. A little.

Okay, so on to pressing business. Today at work, I heard all these awesome stories about catching shoplifters from a co-worker who used to work in loss prevention. Dudes? People are DUMB. She was telling me about young girls who would sit in fitting rooms and just shove clothes in bags while people actually WATCHED them, women who'd freak out and break someone's wrist upon getting apprehended, and all kinds of juicy stuff.

I tried to keep up and tell her that back when I worked retail at The Gap Kids (cool, I know) and I'd see people steal ALL THE TIME. Trouble was, I was too naive to actually REALIZE they were stealing, and assumed people were just reshuffling the items they had already purchased and then they'd just like, re-put them in a different store's bag. So when they showed up to the counter with the freshly stolen merchandise to return, I was the idiot being all "Was there something wrong with the fit on these 12 tshirts?" and doling out store credit.

Anyway, she was telling me all kinds of ways and rules of catching someone stealing in a store.  Apparently, it's like SUPER easy to figure out if someone is stealing.  There's like a 5 step process.  I don't know what they are, but one of them must involve spying on people in changing rooms, which is actually just very disconcerting to me.  I'm too self-conscious to slip into a swimsuit in the fitting room.  I certainly don't need someone peering at me through a two-way mirror.  Judging me.  I am definitely not going to risk a strip-search just to nab a sweater.

I've never stolen anything. I never pocketed lipstick, or stuffed a pair of jeans into my winter coat or anything. Have you guys? I've known a couple people who went through a phase where they got a rush out of stealing things. People who think they are doing stores a "favor" by exploiting flaws in their security systems. Gee, what a great public service...

And these days, it's everywhere.  You know how all these Wall Street tool bags are getting indicted for stealing all this money from their clients or whatever? Rest assured that will never be me. Stealing stuff is for jerks. It's lame and cliche and definitely never cool. and it definitely entails a certain level of sneakiness that I don't have  Plus, I'm pretty sure I don't even have a good enough handle on my own possessions and money to even attempt to jeopardize someone elses. I once thought someone had stolen $38 from my bank account and called the bank to yell at them, only to find out I had done some online shopping after a very late night out with the girls.

But I do love hearing stories about how people get caught pocketing a bedazzled bra from the Juniors section at Macy's. Really?  Do you REALLY need that atrocity?  I think the cops are doing you a favor by confiscating that item, lady.  I feel like people should think long and hard about what they're going to take. What if you get caught stealing, like, hemorrhoid cream or something?  Or like a pair of Crocs?  EMBARRASSING!

Do you guys remember that scene in Empire Records when that character gets caught stealing CD'S, and all the CD's are terrible and they totally make fun of the kid?  That ruled.  Oh, and then they gave the kid a job?  Classic.

Anyway, my brain has officially shut down due to the sheer amounts of food coursing through my body, if you can't tell.  The point is, I'm too full to think but I  DO think it's funny when a guy gets caught stealing 20 pairs of thongs or something.  Sweet sweet justice...

Alright guys, be good this weekend, okay?  Don't do anything stupid.  Deal?  Have a great weekend!!

Dear Crabby - EWWWW Edition!

Let's see how well this experiment works. Shockingly, many of you weren't foolish brave enough to email me your darkest, dirtiest questions, so we'll probably rate this first edition as PG-13. Enjoy!

Dear Crabby,

This isn't probably as tawdry as you were hoping. It IS embarrassing though, so I'll give it a shot. I'm a 27 year old girl, and I got a HICKEY on my neck from a date on Monday night. It's too hot to wear turtlenecks, so what other clever ideas do you have to hide it?!?

Thanks!
A Hickey Situation

Oh dear, Hickey Situation indeed!

Ummmmmmmmmmm....how does an adult woman get a hickey anymore?! How did you not notice the sucking? Listen, hickeys are all fun and games when you're giving yourself one on your arm in 3rd grade, but once you've graduated from your training bra, it just isn't cool anymore. You should be sucking face, not necks. I guess you could put ice on it, or cover it up or whatever, but you'll probably still be self conscious. And if you sweat your cover-up makeup off, you're out of luck. I guess all you can do is wear one of those cute scarf shirt dealies. You know, they wrap around your neck and tie on the side, but they are sleeveless, so they are totes weather appropriate. Or maybe throw on a scarf. People seem to be wearing lots of scarves, no matter the weather - maybe they just all have hickeys, though. Other than that, you'll just have to hole up in your house alone until the little love bruise fades on it's own. Good luck, girl, and don't let it happen again!

Dear Crabby,

Is it REALLY that gross to not shave your legs as a woman? I mean, I love skirts and shorts, but I just do NOT see the need to shave. Guys don't have to, why should we!? Everyone tells me it looks gross, and I guess I SHOULD be embarrassed, but I'm not. What's the big deal??

Thanks for your input,
Chewbacca

Okay, reader, I'm sorry but I had to give you that clever name. It's NOT okay to have hairy legs. Why not? I don't know, it's just so wrong. And, I mean, I hadn't shaved my legs for like over a week before this morning, so it's not like I'm all rigid and ruthless with the rules. However, I skip it out of pure laziness, not out of protest or because I like how it looks/feels to be all Amazonian. And you can bet your Bic that I feel much better having done it. Also, I wrote a blog once about how unfair it is that women have to shave so much and men don't. So, I get it. However, that doesn't mean we still shouldn't shave. Women's legs look more feminine and sleek when they are hairless, I guess. Hairy legs, much like a hairy face, give off a more masculine vibe. So, unless you're super into challenging societal norms, I suggest investing in some razors and giving your legs a much-needed breather. Your friends, and anyone you're playing footsie with, will thank you!

Dear Crabby,

Okay, I don't think this gross or embarrassing, but my sisters and girlfriend beg to differ (they love your blog, by the way...they're sure you'll take their side, but I don't think you will). I'm a dude. Sometimes, things get a little uncomfortable "down there" and I need to readjust. Especially in the summertime. It's human nature! I try and not be all obvious about it, but sometimes you just gotta take care of business, you know? (Okay, YOU don't know, but you know what I'm saying.) What do you think? Am I a neanderthal, or simply a product of my gender??

Show me some love,
Going Nuts

Hey Going Nuts,

Haha! I was SO glad to get a question like this! I love "guy problems". Okay, so several years ago, I would have sided with the ladies on this one. It's disgusting! But because I spend a loooooooooooot of time with guys, I was schooled in the frequent male behavior. The readjustment thing is just gnarly to have to see, okay? No one needs to be in on it with you. BUT someone (and I can't remember who, sadly) finally explained it to me in a very graphic, but helpful, way. People with weak stomachs should look away for the next sentence. I was told that I "would have to readjust to, if it felt like I had a piece of deli meat stuck to my leg all the time". Gross, right?! But, like, it makes sense. Despite the graphic nature of the description, it really is very helpful for a girl to understand the sensation. So, I totally get why guys have to do it. Having said that, it's still just NOT okay to be obvious about it. Try and keep it discreet and everyone's happy!

Well, what do you guys think? Too gross? Not gross enough? More importantly, did I actually HELP anyone? I think these questions are waaaaaaaaaay more fun than serious ones. I'd REALLY appreciate it if we could get another batch like these next week, too! Go ahead and set up an anonymous email account if you have to, and email me at pharonsquare@gmail.com. Make 'em silly, serious, graphic, WHATEVER! I'm here to help, people!

He Ain't Heavy, He's My I.T. Guy

God bless the blogger Gods! My little brother Perek saw my little computer cry for help and jumped at the chance to make my PC more Mac-ish. He's an Apple freak, and is determined to make me just like him. So, he offered to come over tonight and hook my computer up with some rando new operating systems update that is "almost just like a Mac".

Cue: Me tuning out everything he tells me.

Perek kept talking about all these "apps" and crap that will work SOOO much better. He claimed it would be like having a new computer. All I wanted was for my computer to NOT shut down every night to "configure" itself. Perek assures me that I'm in the clear now. So far, so good.

Okay, so Perek comes over and gets to work on my computer. He keeps asking me crazy questions like "What do you use your computer for, other than blogging?" I'm all "Uh, nothing. Oh, wait, I put pictures on here and check Facebook." He's all "Well, you basically have nothing installed on here. Seriously, what do you even DO on your computer?" Rude! I do a LOT. Like blogging. And checking Facebook. And looking up funny videos about Sassy Gay Friends. And other very, very important things.

Perek was not impressed.

So, anyway, he's sitting at our dining room table trying to make my life easier, and all I can think about is peeking over his shoulder to see what he's doing. I have, like, this URGE to hang out over his head and spy on every keystroke. But he and I can't do that. We get physically angry when we try to help each other out, so I just hang out, on the other side of the table, talking incessantly to distract myself from the fact that I have zippo idea what Perek's doing to my computer. I know I just have to chill.

Ever since Perek and I were young, we have this very awkward "working together" relationship. When Perek would get frustrated with a writing assignment, I'd slip in the seat and take over (Sorry Jesus, but Perek's confirmation paper was ALL ME!) When I was ready to toss the computer against the wall because it was frozen, or broken, or giving me error after error, Perek would pop in to help. The problem was, with Perek leaning over my shoulder to help me, I'd get all sweaty and hot and frustrated because I had no idea what to do. So, in both cases, we'd just excuse ourselves and get busy playing Sonic the Hedgehog or something.

We just don't work together very well. We trust each other to just fix what needs fixing and leave the other one alone. I once asked Perek for his help building my IKEA desk, and after 5 minutes of trying to work with me, he got a "stomachache" and had to "go lie down". Until I finished building the desk. Which, by the way, I built awesomely and by myself.

He and I just don't have that natural "work together" thing going on. Tonight, I tried to offer helpful tips like "Wait, before you do that, you should probably change my desktop picture to the one of Geo and me like I had before". And he'd rub his forehead and try and tune me out while he was figuring out how to make this whole thing work. So, I'd try and offer MORE helpful tips, and eventually he was over it. He stopped responding to me altogether. I plopped down across the table from him with my glass of wine and just let him work his magic.

Meanwhile, it was very funny watching Geo try to balance the two of us. On the one hand, Perek, his best friend, is frustrated out of his mind with the chick trying to tell him what to do. On the other hand, his girlfriend is just trying to figure out what's going on. He was all uncomfortable and weird and didn't know who to support so he just played games on his iPad. I thought it was hilarious.

The moral of the story is my computer has not shut down ONCE since writing this blog. Whatever Perek did, it worked. And despite my constant interest in micro-managing his efforts, he somehow managed to just go ahead and fix everything. I'm pretty glad for that. I have a feeling that if had forced my way into the process, like I'm so inclined to do, my computer would have blown up by now. So thanks, bro!!!

Alabummer

So, I feel like I haven’t been really giving my all to this blog lately. I’ve been really distracted and crazy-emotional lately, which has been throwing me for nauseating loop-de-loops. This blogger is about to go through a transition, people, and I don't like it. Here’s what I’ve been obsessing over for weeks now.

You guys? Geo’s moving to Alabama. He got into Grad school down there and in like 6 weeks, he’ll be flying down there and STAYING there for 20 months. Here's the kicker. I won’t be. I’ll be moving into some new place here in Minneapolis. Obvs I’ve been like super bummed. Like, party-pooping bummed. I’m the most boring person in the world to talk to lately, because all I do is try and sneak everyone in to my Pity Party against their will. I suppose it’s important to say that, like, we’re not breaking up. Everything, besides this whole distance thing, is just peachy. But he wants to go get his learn on, and I don't exactly see myself making it in the deep south. So yeah, it's a stupid situation, but I'm just trying to be like "It'll be all good in our two completely different 'hoods."

It all started a while back. Geo wanted to go to grad school for Genetics and I was all “la la la, Yay! Do it! I’ll totes move wherever! Love! Puppies! Rainbows!” Then he got in to 3 schools. And he asked me which state I’D want to go to. Suddenly, I was like “Whoa, who said anything about moving?!” So I jotted down some notes listing the pros and cons of his two final choices, Alabama vs. Utah. Both places had many, MANY cons that included things like “No family there. No friends there. Where would I get my haircut? Have to get a new driver’s license.” As helpful as these were to ME, they didn’t give Geo too much to go on. But, long story short, he chose Alabama. (Oh, and his bro also goes to school down there. Geez, what IS it with Alabama?!)

Then something in me kicked in. Remember this post when I was freaking out about our future and whatnot? Yeah, at that point, I had decided that I’m definitely the kind of girl you want to lock down before making me do something I don’t want to do. I didn’t want to move, but if I had a little reminder on my left ring finger, I would probably be more pleasant about the temporary relocation. So, we tossed around the engagement idea. It wasn't the scariest thing ever, either. But still, I didn’t like the Alabama idea, though.

Then came all the logistics conversations. Over and over. When would we move? (Me: Never, hopefully.) WHAT would we move? ( Me: Nothing, let’s keep it all here and Geo can commute.) Will we NEED two cars? ( Me: Yes, otherwise how will Geo get around after I escape back to Minnesota?) And the kicker: Do we want roommates? ( Me: Oh hell to the no.) Geo had been floating around the idea of moving in with his brother and his brother’s girlfriend in Alabama to save some cash. My answer, between sobbing about already missing my parents and gleefully clicking through engagement ring websites, was a very strong No. I would not move down to Alabama to be Geo’s ROOMMATE again. I couldn’t justify leaving my whole support system to move into the exact same living scenario I’m in now, when all I really want to do is get going on the whole Next Step thing. The juice, as they say, wasn’t worth the squeeze.

Cut past like a zillion conversations where I’m sobbing uncontrollably and getting mad at Geo for having the gall to pursue higher education. Geo’s all “So, okay, I’m just confused. Are you mad at me? Sad? Why did you start crying when I made macaroni just now?” I am a big, sunburned puddle of emotions all the time. What was happening just kind of punched me in the face. I went from wondering if I COULD move, to thinking I was going to be engaged so that I WOULD move, to not liking the living situation and deciding I didn't WANT to move, and now searching craigslist constantly for a decent place I CAN move. My head hurts. It’s like the universe was all “Ha! You think you have stuff planned out? You feeling pretty comfortable Pharon? See how you like THIS, suckah!” And my script was totally flipped.

So, yeah, that’s where my mind is lately. That’s why I just haven’t been able to drum up a thoughtful, yet hilarious, post hating the person who decided bananas are so great.

And while I haven’t exactly been discreet about it (see HERE, HERE, and HERE for the clues), it doesn’t really do me any good to deny it anymore. I guess I just kind of kept hoping it was, like, NOT going to happen and it was just an elaborate way of planning a surprise party for me or something. It’s not. (RUDE!) We actually had the conversation of who gets to keep the Kinect (answer: I do – along with Geo’s giant TV which I assume will come in very handy when I need to negotiate something with him in the coming months).

So, I guess for now, the most important things to know are: Geo’s moving away for a little while, but I’m not. We’re not breaking up, but we’re not exactly getting engaged yet. And I get to keep his TV. But I’m not even sure where I’m going to put it yet. I know plenty of people who have had to make this type of situation work, so I guess it’s not all that uncommon. But it still sucks. And there is the short version (yeah, I know…definitely NOT short) of what’s going on.

Yeah, gross. I've had all that on my mind pretty much non-stop lately, so a couple blogs have been lame-o. Sorry, y'all! I'll be better. Now that this is all out there, I feel good about the upcoming blogs where I don't have to be all cryptic and can just come out and say "So, today I played the 'you're moving' card and got Geo to bring my car in for an oil change." Which I already did on Friday. Yay!

Whatever Floats My Boat

There are three definitive kinds of cabins. Each one can best be described by the type of boat floating at the end of the dock. Where did I spend my weekend? I'll give you a hint: I haven't showered. My clothes are full of fish slime and worm guts. And I have a nice little sunburn on my chest and shoulders, but a total farmer's tan on my legs.

Cabin #1: Fishing Boat Cabins with a fishing boat are low-key, laid back, relaxation fests. Usually, they are on a quiet lake, with clean, but weed-y, water. They are the kinds of places where you never ever quite feel clean, but you like it. Brushing your teeth is, like, a good idea but certainly not a requirement. No need to bring a change of clothes, because you'll probably spend all day in a bathing suit and whatever pajamas you packed. You float around in the boat on a quiet lake, catching fish and throwing 'em back, and just generally lazing. Then you bundle up in sweatpants and sit by the campfire making s'mores and drinking. You hone your skills in ripping up worms to bait a hook, and find out that fish squirt some gnarly juicy substance when you squeeze them to get them off your hook. You get your hands dirty. You don't miss TV AT ALL. You forget all about Facebook.

Cabin #2: Speed Boat If you're at a cabin with a speedboat, you'd better be prepared to do a lot of tubing or wakeboarding. Your skin perpetually takes on the look of raisins. You're exhausted after spending the whole day on the water, hopping in and out of the boat. When you're not ON the boat, you're TALKING about being on the boat. You have to eat a good breakfast. You're always lake-water clean, but since your suit is inevitably filled with seaweed, you have to shower before dinner. More often than not, you're too sore at the end of the day to do anything besides have a beer and half-heartedly play a game of cards. But you get a workout in, and it's like running a marathon (I assume. Shockingly, I've never actually DONE a marathon). Also you get incredibly good sun because it's all about soaking it up.

Cabin #3: Pontoon A pontoon is kind of a wildcard. But for the most part, Pontoon Cabins are like less dirty, more drinky versions of a Fishing Boat Cabin. You wear skirts a lot. You eat a lot of snacks. You ride at a very slow pace around the lake, spying on other people's cabins, seeing what's going on. You probably eat 3 well-prepared meals a day, and I wouldn't be surprised if there was a hair dryer and straightener packed in the bag of someone going to Pontoon Cabin. It's probably quiet, but since there's typically more drinking and socializing at these cabins, the quiet-time only lasts until after dinner. Then everyone hangs out, sipping cocktails, and playing games or listening to some music. It's more about hanging out than chilling out.

All three have definite perks. I love ANY cabin, actually. I've been to all three and I've rocked 'em all. But I spent this weekend at, duh, a Fishing Boat cabin. My parents are renting one for the summer, and I was there with my sister Prinna, her husband and kids, my brother Perek and his wife Leah, and my parents. I caught approximately a zillion fish and only got stuck with a hook once. I loved it. I had so much fun hanging out with everyone. We played charades, board games, and had a campfire and made s'mores. We all snored next to each other and fell asleep to the sounds of loons and the occasional firecracker way off in the distance. I had the greatest time!

Oh, also I may have found a new pet...

Anyway, how was YOUR weekend??

iRage

Dear Apple,

I hereby declare that you are extremely annoying. Your consumers are rabid fans who toe the line between loving appreciation and eternal, murderous devotion. You superior attitude is nothing short of blasphemy. Your stupid commercials make me angry, your obsession with marketing iEverything as iSomething is iIrritating. I'm pretty sure you could release the latest stupid operating system called Poopstain and people would line up around the block to get a shot at getting their hands on the $hitty product. Your "genius bar" is dumb, and your employees, despite the ease with with they ring up products on their iPhones, are irritatingly upbeat.

That said, I'm going to smash my non-Apple computer against the iWall.

I sat here for over 45 minutes while my computer was PREPARING to "configure Windows." I was also directed to "Not turn off my computer." Guess what, PC? I turned it off anyway and restarted it because I'm not getting any younger. Nothing blew up, nothing was lost, but it took a good 5 minutes to start the stupid thing up again (but that's just par for the course). What's with all the meaningless threats, PC?

My computer, which is super new, and has a giant awesome screen, and a full number pad, and runs Google Chrome like a dream (vs. the horribly horrible Safari that Apple just slaps into everything) is definitely not a piece of crap. It's awesome. To get a screen this big on a Mac, I'd have to pre-sell my first-born child and probably a kidney. So, yeah, I love it most of the time. However, it runs Windows. Sure it's Windows 7, and everything's supposed to be super kosher at this point, but no. It's terrible and a far cry from user-friendly. During the 45 minutes I got suckered into waiting for my computer to simply finish "preparing" to do something, I had a thought. Microsoft should steal Apple's operating systems, and then NOT market it as some holier-than-thou status symbol. It'd have all the power of Apple products, and none of the overly obsessive marketing.

But seriously, I think I really need a Mac. I see Geo and Sanna and Tina (ALL of whom have a Mac) flip open their computers and just get to work. I, on the other hand, have to wait for Windows to 1) Run a diagnostics test 2) Automatically restart and then 3) Run into major problems upon starting back up. I get that stupid black screen that's all "Oh no, something's wrong. We don't know what it is, but it's going to be a very serious thing that will take a very serious amount of time to fix, even though it's actually NOTHING."

Meanwhile, my roommates have each watched a movie and then bought a few songs. I'm the shlub staring at the happy blue screen, telling me to "wait a moment".

I don't even like iPhones. I hate the non-real keyboard. But I'm about 2 seconds from running over my Blackberry with my car on my way to buy an iPhone. It's the worst phone ever. Plus, I tried to download the "weather app" but the whole thing froze and then shut down and I lost all my pictures. That's like, not right.

I feel conflicted, you guys. Everyone who owns an Apple phone or computer (I DO have the iPod Touch...I'm not a neanderthal) is just such a jerk about everything. You freaks overshadow the simple fact that Apple makes superior products. Apple iSpazzes freak out over any little thing that company does. I still don't even see the point in an iPad.

But, my computer - no, not my COMPUTER, but WINDOWS - is making me mental. I've been writing this blog for exactly 42 minutes and my battery is almost dead because Windows basically runs everything automatically in the background. I've gotten 4 error messages telling me everything is just going ballistic, and I'm just clicking "Cancel" like my life depends on it. So far, nothing has actually GONE WRONG. Thanks for the zillion warnings, Windows. You're like the computer who cried wolf.

So, I'm still conflicted. I would like the ease and functionality of a Mac computer. But I also refuse to count myself as one of those Apple iFreaks. Blurg! The good news is I don't have a kidney or child to sell, so as of now, the choice to abstain from going to the dark side is out of my hands. I assure you, though, if/when I DO get a Mac, I will NOT be the toolbag bowing down to it's excellence. I'll be the girl who covers up the Apple logo with a symbol of a fist or something. Until then, I just hope my computer will make it to the end of this post.

Have a great weeken

Dear Crabby

You asked, I'm answering! Awaaaaaaaaaay we go!

Dear Crabby,

What do you think about long-distance relationships? Is it worth it? Have you ever had one? All my friends say it's really hard and they usually don't work. But my boyfriend is living in Colorado for work, and I want to know what I might be in for...

Thank you!
-Go the Distance?

Dear Go the Distance,

Dude, there are tons of different kinds of long-distance relationships. I'm pretty sure none of them are ever like, easy. But if you guys are committed to each other and to making it work, then there's no reason it shouldn't. But distance creates a whole batch o' new problems that probably didn't exist if/when you lived near each other. Some couples can deal, some can't. I've had quite a few friends who had to do long-distance for at least SOME part of their relationships. Some are together and better than ever, some hope to never see each other again. There's no real rule to making it work, I guess. And if there is, maybe not everyone can follow the rule. I don't know. I've never had to do a distance thing, but it doesn't sound fun. Whatever you do, I guess just make sure you both are on the same page and you communicate. If you can't do that, no amount of Skype dates will make it last.

Dear Crabby,
I have a friend who is smart, fun, funny, creative, good-hearted, sensitive and all around great. Everyone loves to be around her. The problem is she is always putting herself down and doesn't seem to appreciate how terrific she is. What can I do to help her see what everyone else sees--a GREAT person!

Signed,
A girl's best friend

Dear GBF,

Well, it sounds like you're pretty dope yourself, GBF! Everyone likes to have a friend who can see all the good crap about them, so that's pretty cool of you. I don't know what her problemo is. Ideally, everyone would be totally self-aware and self-assured all the time. But realistically, that'a kind of impossible. Would you rather she went around bragging all the time? Talking non-stop about everything she lurves about herself? Nah. That's an extremely lame character trait. But okay, the real problem seems to be the "putting herself down". If she does it a lot and like for no reason, then she probably has some weirdo deep issues. If she does it to be funny, or to make a point or something, chances are she's just more comfortable not standing out and doesn't mind poking fun at herself. Plus, she knows that not only can she dish it out, she can it too - she's not going to take anything the wrong way. Knocking yourself down a little is a pretty human tendency, but yeah it can get annoying after awhile. Hopefully if you just remind her every once in awhile to take it easy, she'll get the point. That, or find her a therapist.

Dear Crabby,

I'm in a FUNK these days. Got any quick pick-me-up tips??

Stanks,
Debbie Downer

Dear Debbie Downer,

Nothing is more annoying than being in a "funk". I guess there's lots of ways to perk yourself up. I personally like watching super dumb, funny, pointless movies. Or dancing around in my room to Britney to get the blood flowing. Sometimes I like to just spend time with friends and try and let it go for an hour or two and see if that shakes it up. Lots of people go workout or something, but I can't speak on that. Working out doesn't exactly cheer me up because I just end up sore and out of breath and sweaty and gross. Make or do something that you're proud of. Accomplish a little task. Spend some time doing something you love, whether it's shopping or playing guitar or something like that. I don't know. Does any of that help? If not, maybe just try and solve one tiny little problem you're having and just keep digging away until you feel better. It'll take some work, but you can do it. Or, you know, sometimes it just passes. Or maybe just take some Midol or something (sorry, that was a "guy" joke). Good luck, Downer! I hope you feel better!

Whoa, guys! Those were, like, serious questions! I got nervous just TRYING to answer them! I didn't even want to be all snarky and rude, either! I like just really wanted to HELP! Hopefully I did that! Next week, let's do some funny ones, deal? Email your most embarassing or hilarious problems to pharonsquare@gmail.com and I'll get back to what I do best: fake advice for crazy problems. Say word...

I totes can't find a good relevant song here, so I'm just going to play something dumb and silly and just show you guys something that always makes me laugh...Epic Meal Time. Enjoy!

Saving Face(book)

I will spare you the details of how sweaty I am right now. I will also spare you the details of talking about how it was 102 degrees in Minnesota today, and how I currently am cooling off by holding a cold beer on my chest. Like, I'm barely even drinking it. That's just crazy.

So you know what's annoying? People tagging ugly pictures of you on Facebook and then getting all uppity when you untag yourself. A friend of mine recently went through the trouble of sending me a direct message saying "You shouldn't untag yourself in MY pictures. I liked it." Exsqueeze me? Rude, right?! It was a picture of ME. I thought my arms looked fat, so I untagged it. Big whoop! I thought I'd take this opportunity to explain social media etiquette. To the unnamed friend who is apparently the President of Tagging, you might want to pay attention.

Social Media Rule #1: Enough with the constantly depressing status updates. I can't tell if it's a cry for help or what. But all it really makes me think is "Yikes. I need to block this person unless I constantly want to be sad whenever I scroll through updates." Quit it. Consider therapy.

Social Media Rule #2: Guess who doesn't care about the zillions upon zillions of updates about your kids! Everyone. It's too much. I'm friends with YOU, most likely because I think YOU are cool. If I wanted constant updates on Junior's eating habits, I'd hop on over to the search bar and look HIM up. Not sure if this is you? Head on over to stfuparents.tumblr.com and take a looksie. It's a resource, people. Use it. Listen, I'm sure your kids are cute. And kids do a lot of funny things. I don't mind that. But don't trick me into being friends with you and then only write about them. I like YOU. Let's talk about YOU.

Social Media Rule #3: If you post a fugly picture of me, I have the chance, nay, the RIGHT, to remove my tag. Why do you post pictures of me that are ugly anyways? That's rude. I'm guessing that you like the picture of yourself, which is fine, but there's a nifty little "cropping" tool that can remedy both situations. You can stay cute, I can pretend the picture never existed. And getting upset because I untagged myself is uncouth. Sheesh. Take it down a notch.

Social Media Rule #4: Nothing is more uncomfortable than changing your relationship status to "Single". Chances are, it's not some lovely, happy story about the demise of a relationship. Therefore, when it shows up, it's pretty gnarly to comment "Oh no! What happened!?" right smack dab in the middle of the newly-singletons Wall. Send that private-message-style. If they wanted to give the deets publicly, they would have. Respect, people.

Social Media Rule #5: Everyone. Can. See. Your. Twitter. Pictures. If. You. Aren't. Careful. You hear that, Anthony Weiner?! Twitter is not the place to carry on a secret relationship. Ever heard of email? Or better yet, ever heard of "NOT CHEATING ON YOUR WIFE"?! Sheesh. Twitter is the place to talk about Rebecca Black or the release of a new iPhone feature or a revolution in Iran. It's not for nudie pics. Gross, dude.

Social Media Rule #6: If you live in San Diego and you constantly invite me to events at your store or neighborhood association or whatever (even though I live in MINNESOTA), I will defriend you. Create a Group of San Diegans (or whatever) and invite them. I'm not coming. You are wasting an invite on me. In fact, it will only add to your list of "Not Attending" and that's not cool.

Social Media Rule #7: Don't be afraid to be a good resource. If you found something cool online and want to share it? Awesome! That's how things become viral. But don't pawn it off as something YOU started. Unless you are the one the made the video or wrote the funny article, chances are YOU weren't the first one to find it. It's a waste of taking credit for something. It took me FOREVER to find Honey Badger, but I didn't post it and be all "OMG, I can't believe I'm the first one to discover this!" You'll NEVER be the first person to find something on the internet. Dumb.

How's that list? Did I miss anything? Did I hurt anyone's feelings? I hope I didn't, because I'm just trying to make the internet a better place. Give yourself some credit, people, and use these platforms to your advantage! I'd rather read about how you filed your nails for 2 hours than any of the above things. Got it? Good! Now, just hop on over to the Pharon Square facebook page and let me know what you think about this list. Do I do any of these things on there?!

P.S. Tomorrow is another Deeeeeeear Crabby! Send in your questions a.s.a.p. to get them answered by a real-live blogger! Email them to pharonsquare@gmail.com. Don't forget, Squares!

It's Summer. I'm Sweating.

Oh. My. Gah. It's seriously 88 degrees in my house. It is like walking into toe jam. Gnarly. Totally gnarly. I guess it's a good thing SUMMER HOURS STARTED at work! w00t! Basically, I work longer days on Monday-Thursday (thereby avoiding the hottest hours of the day in my sweaty house), and on Friday I get to check out of work at 11:30. Hopefully this year I will make more of my half-days than I did last year when I spent them napping on my couch, catching up on all the Z's I missed earlier in the week. Not this summer!

It's too hot to think. I got up to get some ice water and lost 4 pounds in sweat walking to the refrigerator. After work, my mom took me and my sister Prinna out to dinner and Prinna briefly suggested sitting outside on the patio to eat. I almost started crying. Mercifully, we compromised by sitting inside, but close enough to the patio door that every single time it opened (which I swear was like 20 freaking times a minute) we'd get slapped in the face by the hot garbage weather. So, yeah we were inside, but we were still sweating.

Anyway, back to Summer Hours. They're pretty great. Sure it's no "summer break" that every American is accustomed to enjoying for like the 12-16 years we're in school, but still. I mean, it's pretty unfair to give someone something every day until graduation and then just steal it back like it never existed. I miss my summer breaks. Just layin' around, chillin, complaining about how hot it is. Nice.

I remember briefly considering a profession in teaching during college. Not because I love kids or want to, like, teach our future or whatever, but because they have summers off. I wish there was a serious survey done to figure out how many teachers chose their job for the whole "summers off" reason. I'm pretty sure my first grade teacher Mrs. Anderson was one of them. She hated kids. Well, mostly just the sound, sight, and general presence of kids.

What other jobs give you summers off? I know in like Norway everyone gets like a month off in winter or something to stave of seasonal depression. How have Americans not latched on to that concept? Cut us some slack, Government (or God, or Mark Zuckerberg, or LOLCats, or whoever is running this place)!

But whatevs. Summer Hours are going to be nice. Although, I'm already crazy tired and a little scared I'm going to sleep through my butt-crack-of-dawn alarm. But Friday is right around the corner, and it's going to be not Satan-hot so it'll make it allll worth it. For now, it's off to bed. I want to get up and brush my teeth, but our bathroom is not air conditioned, and therefore a health hazard.

A Displaced Girl's Guide to the Weekend

Well, I did NOT get a dog this weekend. You happy, Mom? I suppose it was for the best. A dog would not have fit into my weekend very well. The weather here demanded some appreciation and I soaked up enough sun to burn my kneecaps and shoulders and chest and back and tops of my feet. It will, as they say, definitely turn into a nice tan though. So, the awesome weather was a great thing. Because for some reason, there was a constant stream of my roommates' friends all weekend, which kind of just made me feel like I was intruding on whatever shenanigans were going on. And since Geo has been gone all weekend, I was feeling displaced in my own house. The odd man out. The lone wolf. It was kind of lame.

Anyway, so after years of searching, I FINALLY achieved my summer goal of having a friend with a boat. Liz is definitely my favorite friend now - sorry, boatless friends! I joined Liz and a few of her friends on her boat at Lake Minnetonka on Saturday. I love boats. They are fun and lovely and they can go fast and you can wakeboard behind one and drink a beer on one (as long as you aren't driving, duh). I guess I'm just a girl who's a sucker for an outboard motor. It's been a very long time since I could stretch out on a boat, too. I haven't had the luxury of being able to own my own, so Liz getting her little hands on one definitely benefits me the most. The day was cloudless and breezy and just perfection. After a post-sun nap to really let the sunburn sink in, I got up the guts to brave another strange new situation.

My friend Peter and his fiancee Katie are kind of actually like GEO'S friends - Peter and Geo have been friends since college. But I'm stealing them. On Saturday night, I went over to see their new house and hung out with a few more of "Geo's friends" and I think it's safe to say: I'm totally in on my own merit. When Peter texted me that they were having a BBQ and did I want to come over, I replied "Uh, you KNOW Geo's gone, right?" And he said "Uh, YEAH. So?" I said "Okay, but this is new and scary." And he said "Haha. Yes. Bring a lawn chair. We'll be out in the backyard." Well, I didn't bring a lawn chair, because I don't have one, and I highly doubt that if I brought one of our kitchen chairs it would have been suitable. But I went and had an awesome time. Also? I learned I'm actually pretty durn good at Bags, which is very important in life.

On Sunday, feeling a little down about random drama, I decided to treat myself to a Bruegger's Bagel. I never get real, full-fat bagels anymore. I get my fix with BagelThins and fat-free cream cheese, but it's never the same. I don't know what possessed me to, after spending a day in a BATHING SUIT, go all in on one, but whatever. I did. So I'm paying for my delicious bagel, and the very robust, older gentleman ringing me up says "I hope you don't think this is weird, but you have got the most beautiful eyes!" I asked that lovely, kind man to marry me. Fine, not really. But I did decide the trip was totally worth the extra calories.

When I came home, I was feeling all elated and lovely and hungry. After a brief respite of solitude, the group of girls walked in and my quiet time was over. I still needed more. So I dug my running shoes out of their home in the very back of my closet, and went for a super fast-paced walk (I wanted to say "run", but that would have been a lie) around the lake that's only four houses away from me. I haven't done that in waaaaay too long. I usually avoid the Lakes on nice days because it seems to attract all the jerkwads in packs. But I made an exception, and I'm glad I did. I got my vitamin D, more sun on my burn (seriously, it's going to be such a great tan), I listened to some great tunes, smelled some flowers and other nature-y things, and worked off (part of) that delicious bagel. Win win!

So despite the fact that I was missing Geo a little and my house has temporarily turned into a sorority house (vs. the frat house of the Glory Days), it was nice to get out and be able to do a bunch of things that I probably wouldn't have otherwise done. I would have been home, cleaning or doing laundry or watching a Bridezillas marathon and not doing any cleaning or laundry or something, which are all very well and good. But the sick tan I'll have in a couple of days will be well worth it.

Anyway, I'm cashed. It's late and I'm pooped. You guys have a great week, okay??? Do it!

What up, dog?

Well, I've fallen in love with a dog. My friend Claire is fostering dogs and I fell in love with this thing:

Her name is, for now, Noni. I will be changing her name a.s.a.p. to "Nelly". As in "I wish Nelly Furtado was my best friend".

Whatevs...I'm buying a dog. I see no downside to it. Seems like a win-win for me. Thing who can't leave me? w00t!

Meanwhile, my mom says that's a terrible reason to get a dog. I was all "Aww, but she's so cute and she'll have to come with me EVERYwhere!" My mom was all "You're insane. Dogs poop. And you have to pick up the poop. Historically, you dislike poop. ESPECIALLY picking it up." Rude, Mom. Thanks for being right, though.

At any rate, I want a dog. I'm pretty sure I'm going to get one soon. I hate most dogs because they are all yappy or needy or pee-y everywhere. But as soon as I find a self-sufficient, non-barky, non-public-poopy dog, I'm totes going to buy it. Claire, hold on to Noni Nelly, 'cause I'm coming to get her!!

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Dear Crabby

Whoops! I had almost forgotten it was time to tackle some of your burning questions! This 4-day work week has me all kinds of backwards. Luckily, I figured it out, and your emails shall not go unanswered! (I can hear your sighs of relief...) And awaaaaay we go!

Dear Crabby,

Why are you so crabby? What gives?

Stop being crabby!
-Glass is Half-Full!!!

Dear Obnoxiously Positive Person,

Uh, have you not READ this blog before? I'm not ALWAYS crabby, Perky Jerky, I just find that most of the time, people can be dumb. And I feel like it's up to me to just helpfully ridicule them back into sanity. I would have liked to have come up with a catchier, more descriptive title, but "Dear Person With Common Sense and an Occasionally Insulting Retort" just didn't quite have a ring to it. Here's my advice to you: People don't trust other people who are all happy-go-lucky all the time. They seem, um, insane. Maybe start listening to more Lil Wayne, and less Little Bunny Foo Foo. You'll thank me later, I assure you.

Dear Crabby,

Be honest. Should I, or should I not, get bangs?

I'll do whatever you say!
-Bangin' (or not?)

Hey Bangin',

Ah, one of life's biggest questions. Chop hair at the front of my face or not? I think Mother Teresa battled this very same thing. My short (ha!) answer is Sure, why not?! I love bangs! I wish I could HAVE bangs! Even Geo suggested I get bangs, because he said they'll make me look "youn...er, wait, no." Yeah, he wanted to say bangs would make me look younger. I told him to stop growing so much hair on his face and HE could look younger too. Whatevs. But truly, I'd like to cut some bangs. Here are the only reasons I can't (and if you're in a similar spot, I'd cut (ha!) out the whole idea as well). My forehead sweats and my hair is thin. So, all it would take is one hot afternoon and I look like a drowned rat. So, I guess those are your options. Do it if you don't have an excessively inhospitable forehead region, but if you do, maybe consider getting some of those creepy clip-in bangs that Sandra Bullock wore to the Golden Globes.

Dear Crabby,

My best guy friend asked me out on a date. It was all kinds of awkward! It felt like I was going out with my brother! He told me he really had a great time, and "can't wait to do it again", but I'd rather chug a gallon of milk (I'm lactose-intolerant). What can I do to let him down gently? I still want him as my friend, but the thought of being anything more than that is grosstacular. HELP!

Thanks!
-Wants a Brofriend, Not a Boyfriend

What's up, WABNAB!

Eeesh, that's tricky. I, like you, totally love having guy friends. I actually prefer guy friends to girls sometimes. They are simple friendships to maintain and typically, you don't need to do anything but bring some beer and have a competitive spirit. But making the leap from brofriend to boyfriend opens up a ginormous can o' worms. He clearly digs your laid back spirit and the way you probably don't try too hard around him, and it seems that it's a double-edged sword. The same thing that makes you friends makes him want to be MORE than friends. Grody. All I can suggest is to be honest. Guys appreciate honesty and being straight-forward. They don't need you to be all wishy-washy about this. Be straight up with him. Take him out for some beer and burgers. Then do the "Listen, I don't think we should go on 'dates' anymore. It makes me feel weird, and I really don't want to complicate this with feelings. Let's just keep it at a friendship level and see where that goes." Then buy shots for you both (you know, so he still wants to be FRIENDS at least )and then fart or something (so he sees how truly unattractive you can be.) Good luck!

Well, I'm super glad I remembered it was Wednesday! Otherwise all these poor shlubs would have been direction-less for a whole 'nother week! Phew! You know what to do with YOUR questions: slap 'em in an email to pharonsquare@gmail.com. And we'll talk about them all next week! Same bat time, same bat channel...