Ten Reasons Why It Sucks to Be a Unicorn.

I know what you're thinking: what could possibly suck about being a gloriously magical, shimmering lord of equines? On the surface it looks like buttloads of good times: pearly white haunches glittering in the mysteriously purple moonlight, Mount DiamondDust calling to you..."Come to me my one-horned friend". Your sensual snowy mane fiercely radiant against the forest of Wizardlune wherein you are known among the elvinkind as "Silveraneous Starmist". Yep, it appears you have it all Mr. Unicorn. Superficially. But underneath that proud pose I sense a darker side. So without further ado I give you Ten Reasons Why it Sucks to Be a Unicorn:



1 Beauty is pain. When your entire livelihood is based on how pretty you are, you better believe you will go to extreme lengths to look good. Let's not even discuss the amount of conditioner a unicorn uses every day of the week. And a self-respecting unicorn isn't buying Kroger brand neither. We're talking pricey stuff with bits of cheetah in it so you know its good. Then there's the intense diet and exercise regimen with a personal sugar plum fairy trainer. After all haunches don't glimmer on their own.
2 Magical crap. Few people realize this, but unicorns poo diamonds the size of your fist. And that is even less pleasant than it sounds.

3 Retarded virgins. I don't know what it is about virgins and unicorns but frankly, being mauled by Miley Cyrus fans every time you go for a quiet stroll through the meadow is more annoying than enchanting. Dude, stop combing my mane.

4 Purple is gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but there it is. I said it.

5 Crazy effing wizards. Being constantly hunted by aspiring evil magicians gets old, and is especially embarrassing in the middle of your birthday party.

6 Heart-shaped Hoofs. Try signing a mortgage document or breakup letter with a heart. Nobody takes you seriously.
7 Emotionally abusive care bears. All I can say is, if you've heard one "horny" joke you've heard them all. And its hurtful. I'm looking your way Sunnyheart Bear.

8 No wings. Pegasus can fly to Jupiter and back. Unicorn cannot. So when it comes time for King Elvenflame to choose his magical stead who do you think is posing front and center at the Candycane Parade? That's right, BLOODY PEGASUS.

9 The horn is overrated. Sure, if you need to stab somebody with your forehead, the horn comes in handy. But more often than not its just a nuisance. Like every time you look up or turn your head. Forget about hat shopping.

10 Ligers. And that's all I have to say about that.

I Hate Parades.

Add this to the hundredth reason you no longer want to hang out, but I am not a fan of parades. I would rather do any number of tedious, unpleasant things than attend a parade including stabbing myself in the face with a fork. Andy and I had been married three years before this ever came up. And when our eyes met for the first time after admitting our mutual loathing for parades, I fell in love all over again.

Because horse crap aside, I have so many unanswered questions. Like who are these old men driving by in cars waving benignly? And what is the appeal of a float? Floats kind of lost their edge with the invention of special effects didn't they? And who are these sad nameless people sitting atop said floats, chucking taffy? And where is the magic in that? If I have a hankering I can buy and entire bag of unhandled taffy at the store any day of the week without having to bake on my folding chair in the sun for an hour surrounded by the sweating masses dying slowly of unimaginable boredom.

I know; You love parades. You, and practically every other human being on the planet. I couldn't even find an appropriately sad parade picture for this post. Even Google couldn't fathom what a "lame parade" might look like, which is what I typed into its search engine. "Do you mean Lemon Parade?" "Do you mean Happy Happy Fun Time Parade?" No Google, but thank you for confirming what I already knew: I am missing something. Maybe I'm a robot.

The Best Concert Ever.

Dear Diary,
April 5th was the MUSE CONCERT! Diane watched the girls while Andy and I had the greatest musical experience of our lives. The opening band was kind of lame. You will probably never hear of them Diary seeing how you are an inanimate object, but take it from me: The Silversun Pickups are generic noise. Although, from a glass-half-full perspective it was kind of like watching a pompous Steve Buchemi moon walk across stage ("Best guitar player in the world thank you pop!") and I can’t really complain about that. And the fact that they have a female bass player is pretty cool. But between SP and Muse let us make no comparison. As soon as Muse started playing I felt transported to a plain of pure awesomeness the likes of which I will never forget.
The stage, the effects, the lighting, the incredible talent of Matthew Bellamy on vocals, lead guitar, AND piano- HOLY CRAP. And though I remain firmly anti-smoking, I've got to admit Christopher Wolstenholm playing bass in a haze of cigarette smoke was extremely badass. Not to mention impressive multi-tasking. Dominic Howard was genius on drums. It was amazing. Every song was gorgeous. I've rarely been so star-struck, I've rarely seen Andy so pumped. We kept waiting for them to play "Knights of Cydonia". It was their last song. I couldn't not scream and jump up and down like a cheerleader at a shoe-sale. It was fantastic experience and the best concert ever. If we ever have another opportunity to see them live- you bet your sweet hiney we will be there.