The only certainty is bad grammar – Page 28 – Too personal for the internet.

My thoughts on the presidential debate: Because someone needs to stick up for Obama.

Published: October 4, 2012 / Updated: October 4, 2012 Crystal go (candidate x)

I watched the debate old-school style last night.

Live, on a local NBC station that featured zero insta-polls or commentary across any part of the screen. I didn’t check Twitter for live updates, I didn’t check Slate or Time for live blogging. I just watched it. With my brother. In my living room.

I’d like to think I’m a little smart, that I follow this stuff enough to know what they’re talking about when they say things like, “Simpson-Bowles” and so, I wanted to see how I would view the debate without any help from other people’s opinions.

And, for me, at least, I really thought Obama won.

The whole world says I’m wrong though apparently. And I guess it could just be my typical political leanings talking. But at the end of the debate, the guy I wanted to be my president was Obama.

Personally, I’d like the guy who calmly, thoughtfully replies to the issues. The guy who says things that add up, the guy who’s cool under pressure, the guy who seems to understand basic math. Because as far as I can tell, being president is pretty stressful and complicated and difficult.

Romeny seemed to be speaking in cliches, saying he was going to magically make it so we don’t have to raise taxes AND we can still spend as much money as we want on education, medicare, and the military without raising the deficit.

He said cutting taxes for the rich was going to create jobs. Umm, we kind of tried that. It didn’t work.

He accused Obama of not working with Republicans. WHO WON’T WORK WITH HIM.

Then, the dude literally said he was going to stop funding Big Bird.

** Sigh. **

Romney said that.

While in a debate with a host from PBS.

And then he said he’d cut funding for the host.

Who was SITTING RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM!

My brother was like, “If I was Jim Lehrer I would have stood up right then, turned to the crowd and been like, ‘All right, you guys can boo now. This guy is a tool.'”

And this whole business of Romney trying to pretend that Obamacare is not entirely based on Romenycare is maddening.

If you only take one thing away from this post, let it be that.

Obamacare IS Romenycare. And anything to the contrary is total crap. If you don’t like it, if you like it, either way, they are one in the same. And the fact that Romney is trying to pretend that it isn’t is probably the most blatant example of his willingness to say whatever the heck he needs to say to get what he wants whether he believes it or not.

Oh sure, Romney says the states should just decide that stuff, so it’s technically different. For the sake of argument, let’s pretend that’s a real thing. Umm, have you seen how Illinois runs things these days? We can’t even manage to keep our state parks open on a regular basis and he wants them to be in charge of my health care?

No.

Romney just seemed like he was naive, like he didn’t understand the reality of the situation and as though he would just say whatever he needed to say in whatever situation he was in to close the sale.

So, I guess if winning the debate means being more aggressive, having more zingers, and telling more lies, then I, personally, will be voting for the guy who lost.

Because obviously my opinion about the NFL matters.

Published: September 25, 2012 / Updated: September 25, 2012 Crystal bears, Wow

http://youtu.be/etBpvypwbHo

I’d like to think I have a special perspective on this whole mess with the final call in the Packers- Seahawks game because this one time at a work event I met a real-life NFL referee.

Not a replacement ref. A real ref.

And he told me the gig was his second job. And if remember correctly, that was the case for most of the refs.

As someone who’s worked lots of second jobs, I can tell you that the only way to manage your life is to count on your first job and work your second job for the fun of it, not for the money.

Now, you might think, well, if the NFL refs aren’t in it for the money, why the heck are they striking? I’ll tell you why, because even if you love your job with all your pigskin heart, if the people hiring you are making $700 billion dollars and you’re making $5, you’re going to be annoyed.

Seeing as how those are real-life stats, you can clearly see what the deal is here.

Regardless though, I honestly would feel a bit bad for the replacement refs if the strike ends at this point, but only because my younger brother once worked at a factory during a strike and when the strike ended, it sucked for our rent situation.

Moving on to the real reason we’re all here. I would like to point out that the call last night at the Packers-Seahawks game was tough and that even regular refs could have had the same problem figuring out what the heck was going on.

As an avid Bears fan though, I’m self-aware enough to know that I want the call to be right because I want the stupid, dumb Packers to lose. And I’m also self-aware enough to know that maybe it actually was an interception.

I also know that if this happened to the Bears I would have thrown a couple TVs out the window last night and maybe even a radio for good measure. And that if the Bears somehow manage to beat out the Packers for a playoff spot by one game, I shouldn’t get too excited because their record was likely tainted by one bad call.

Like I said though, I’m a Bears fan. So (clears throat) *ahem* SUCKS FOR YOU PACKERS!. Nah, nah, nah, nah. The Bears are in first place in NFC North. You lost. We won. Games over.

Gel nails and special days.

Published: September 22, 2012 / Updated: September 22, 2012 Crystal feminism?, medium

The problem with gel nails is that you can’t get the dang things off.

That, and the fact they can cost $40.

I mean, sure, it’s awesome that they don’t chip and they dry instantly, but after about two weeks, you spend 10 days picking at them trying to get the suckers off, only to find out that your real nails are more damaged than a 15-passenger van after a mission trip.

I could be reasonable about the whole thing and go to a nail salon and ask them to take them off or something I guess, but I’m scared they’ll try to talk me into getting another set and then I’ll feel bad and I’ll want to say no because I can’t afford it, but there will be a 50% chance I’ll say yes, so instead, I just pick at them.

For 10 days.

And I look like I lack basic hygiene abilities.

I got the nails for April’s wedding.

I was the maid of honor, so I figured, if there’s ever a time for gel nails it’s the day you’re the maid of honor in your best friend’s wedding.

Between that and fake eyelashes, there’s 75% chance that I looked better on her special day than I will for my own.

Of course, that’s assuming I’ll have my own.

I’d like to think special days don’t have to be weddings though. I’d like to think that I’ve already had a handful of really special days.

Like the day I got my master’s Degree. Or the day my sister had to do a project about someone she admires and she did the project about me, and even drew a portrait of my face, complete with the part in my bangs that always happens by the end of the day even thought I want my bangs to go straight across.

Or the day I got a car with heated seats and automatic start.

Or the day I experienced my first youth mission trip foot washing ceremony and I prayed over 19 kids and cried for three hours straight because the power of the holy spirit was that overwhelming. Or the first day of the first Sweets and Snacks Expo I ever covered, where I literally walked across a threshold into Candy Land, Illinois.

Or the day I stood at the top of a mountain and looked down over Bogota, Colombia, the most beautiful city in the world.

Ya, I’d like to think that I’ve had a couple special days here and there.

On exactly none of those days though, was I wearing fake eyelashes and gel nails, so I’m not really sure if they count.

I’d like to think they do though. That maybe, for me, it will be completely all right if I’m unwed forever.

And if a husband happens to come along, I can tell him all about the heated seats and the foot washing and Bogota, while I sheepishly hide my half-picked gel nails.