The One Where I Begin

Oh, my. So here we are, Internet. The time has come. For me to have a blog. (Which I always spell glob the first time I try to type it. If only those two words meant the same thing!) I feel like a moron writing this, knowing that probably only about 4 of my closest friends will ever read this. Whatevs. I hope one day to be a glob blog some stranger comes across and reads (secretly?) at work during a slow day and then that person tells their friend and they tell their friend and bam I'm up to 7 whole readers. What's the point of dreaming if it's not going to be a big one, right?

Anyway... pour yourself a glass of (circle one, or mix appropriately):

a) orange juice 
b) wine
c) vodka

and settle in for Story Time With Nan because I'm starting with a good one. Okay, fine, I'm starting with a decent one. Cut me some slack - it's my first entry. 

So... imagine this is me, bopping along to my haircut appointment in my car this morning:

"Turn up that Celine Dion!"

Except that's not me, that's a dog. You get the gist. Anyway, so I pull off the freeway and I'm waiting for the light to change and a truck pulls up next to me. But not just any old truck.

Snorefest.

No, not that boring truck. But one that's advertising some type of water removal business. Like when your house is flooded and you need the water to NOT be in your life anymore. Not like "got some extra water laying around? We'll remove it!" And I look over and this is what I see:

Again, taken at  STOPLIGHT not while DRIVING.

And I'm looking at this and I'm like "... That looks like the same guy. Not two different guys. And with the arm around the shoulder and the thumbs up, it looks like this guy is having a love affair WITH HIMSELF." And then I look again (this was one really long light) and I read, as you can, too, "Twice the service, twice the care!!" (Note the double exclamation point, like a sorority girl edited it.) (I can say that because I WAS ONE.) And then I think "Man. Those "brothers" (because I'm still not convinced that is two different people) must have really wanted to be in a Doublemint commercial back in the day. And now they're doing water removal instead. Talk about twice the sad." 

All of this led me to think about something else interesting I saw a couple weeks ago. This does not involve a truck. It does, however, involve a vanity license plate. Now. I have a problem with vanity license plates. Even though my mom had a vanity license plate on the car she had before the one she drives now. God only knows what possessed her to pay an extra whatever amount of dollars to declare to the world that she was driving a Cadillac. Oh WAIT you can see what kind of car it is by LOOKING AT THE CAR. Mom, I love you, but I'm glad you grew out of that phase. Anyhoot, the other night, I was driving.... somewhere. Don't remember where. Probs to buy frozen yogurt. And I spy THIS:

"By having a vanity license plate, I can tell the world how unique I am! So brilliant and not at all douchey!"

And I immediately narrow my eyes in suspicion. Because without other context clues, this looks like it means "Hourly Lover." Am I right?! (The answer is yes.) And I'm staring at this car and I'm like "Lady. (I could see it was a lady. I was not just assuming.) Get a grip on yourself. Why would you tell the entire world you're a prostitute?" And we drive a little further and I see a couple Harley stickers on her window. Harley, as in motorcycles. Ohhhhhhhhh. I get it now. But I'm still going to assume you're a prostitute. 

The moral of this entire story is: 1) If you look exactly like your brother, differentiate yourselves in your truck advertising picture so innocent bystanders will not assume it is one person repeated. 2) Make sure when getting your vanity plate from the DMV you do NOT potentially imply you are a "lady of the night" if that's not what you're going for. That's why God gave you friends. So they can help prevent this from happening. 

More musings to come. Along with more ridiculous pictures of dogs driving. 

Stay tuned...