Saturday, December 4, 2010

*UPDATED* Tina Fey Did Not Comment on My Blog and I am Saving All of the Birds

I did have a favorite comment this week!

“Anonymous said...
Whitney I love you”

Anonymous can be anyone, so naturally I’m assuming it is Tina Fey.  I was going to chisel her an award on a sheet of solid gold, but I don’t have a chisel.  So I’m going to write her an awkward very heartfelt letter.

Dear Tina Fey,

Today I had this conversation with my husband:

Me:  Look at me playing with the cat AND stirring macaroni.  I’m multitasking!

Ryan: But are you also pooping? That’s what Tina Fey would do.

Me:  You’re right.

**Several seconds pass**

Me: Umm...don’t come in here.

Tina, THAT is dedication to your advice.  And THIS is a picture you being a little risque and cartoon me not being very risque because I can’t draw that.  I look a little scared, but I think that's healthy.

I saw the other day that you anonymously commented on one of my blog-posts.  There is no need to be anonymous, Tina.  How are we going build an everlasting friendship if we’re both continually sending anonymous mail to each other? I have a picture of your face tattooed on my bicep.  And, people who leave comments on my blog are practically family, so I thought I’d share one of my irrational fears with you.  I am afraid of icicles falling off of buildings and stabbing me in the part of my brain that controls bladder function.  Or like...finger nail growth rate.  Something awful.  For this reason, I have added a hardhat to my Christmas list.


PS  I would also like you to know that I watched you receive the Mark Twain Prize for American humour, and I thought your speech was very racist prolific.  


For those of you who aren’t aware, I have spent the past month painstakingly plagiarizing writing a research paper which led me to write two incredibly valid emails to Aquaman and the United States’ Congress.  Neither responded, but that’s not the point.  The point is that we can now deduce that Aquaman is dead. 

Anyway, my actual assignment was to write an eight-page research paper about something to do with the BP oil spill.  I asked my teacher if I could write about how I think Aquaman died from the oil spill and maybe also I’d throw in something about birds.  She said, “How about just the bird part?”  And then her eyes got kind of glassy, and I can only assume that she was remembering how, earlier this semester, I turned in a paragraph about how I sometimes run outside to yell at birds if they wake me up too early.  Then I’m pretty sure I watched her try to figure out how to get me transferred to another class so late in the semester.

That was a recap.  Now onto the new stuff.  I researched birds, and like, all the birds are dying, you guys.  Some people have even quit their jobs to go down to the Gulf of Mexico to clean the oily birds.  So I decided that I really should do something for nature since it is always there for me when I turn on Animal Planet when I run twenty yards, walk another twenty yards, and then post on as my facebook status “just ran like 5 miles!”.  I wanted to do something for birds in particular since they have been a part of my life for the past couple of weeks.

What could I do though?  All the birds have migrated, so I can’t go feed them or anything.  I sat at the window and stared up at the trees like you would expect in the post break-up scene of a movie that has the word “sleepover” in the title, while I contemplated what I could do for the birds that they would appreciate once they got back in the Spring.  Looking up at the trees made me think about woodpeckers, and that’s when the brilliant idea hit:  woodpeckers make holes in trees.  I have no idea why they do this, but it really doesn’t matter.  Woodpeckers like hole-y trees, and I can make hole-y trees.  I armed myself with a fork and headed outside to make some tree holes.  I figured no one would believe me so I asked my mom to take some pictures.  This is how a couple of those conversations went down:


Me: Mom, I really need you to come outside and take a picture of me stabbing a tree with a fork.

Mom:  Okay, but we have to do it now because I need to leave.


Me: Today I had my mom take a picture of me stabbing a tree with a fork.

Ryan: Good.  Did you know we’ve almost been married for one year and four months?

You guys, people are learning to tune me out and that terrifies me is probably for the best.

But here is the picture of me stabbing a tree for the birds:

Now I have to start writing a new paper.  The paper has to be an argument, so I’m all set to argue about why I should not have to pay for tampons politics?.


PS I’m thinking about writing a eulogy for Aquaman, so if you’d like to contribute a little something, leave a comment with your final words to Aquaman, or shoot me an email at

PPS  I’m starting a “Zombie Apocalypse 4 Dummies,”  but I have a lot of exams this week, so you guys will have to be patient.

PPPS  Some people have asked if Claire's ever responded to my email.  They did not, but they are seriously going to regret it when all of the twelve year-old girls are clamoring about "baton head."

PPPPS  I finally got on the Twitter train. Wbradlaaaay is my name or whatever you call it.  If you say some "@" me, it will probably take at least two months for me to get back to you, because I don't know how to use "@" yet.

**UPDATE**  People have left me comments and sent me email claiming that they are Tine Fey, so I think you all need to comment or send me an email give me a reason WHY you are Tina Fey, and then I'll pick a winner and thou shalt be crowned TINA FEY.


Also, you can be expecting a post very soon about my "stache stash" so stay tuned or else *very intimidating threat*