Home Depot: A Review

UPDATE: There’s a lot that has happened since I last wrote. I got married, got a dog, stopped complaining to people on the internet and instead used my husband as an outlet (he would like that to stop soon because he doesn’t care). But most recently, I bought a house. And with that house comes the false sense that I am, in fact, Chip and Joanna Gaines morphed into one perfectly capable, handy human that can for sure do shit myself and it will be spectacular. So took my first trip to Home Depot. And this is how it went down.

Investor-Conference-2017_Header.jpg

Dear God, what is this place?

I approached the parking lot in my sleek, white Jeep Compass fresh out of 2012 and a child’s soccer game and I was immediately overcome with anxiety. First, because for the love of all things good and well, there is never a good parking spot when you need one. Second, because I know the journey on which I am about to embark and I am terrified for both myself and my wallet.

200

What my husband sees every time I leave the house.

In my mind, Home Depot is like Costco. Only there are no snacks to hide behind, just the shame of my ineptitude and the fact that I didn’t realize the dress code for entry required a tool belt, or at the very least, a back pocket tape measure. Nevertheless, I decided to treat my newfound homeownership the same way I treated purchasing wholesale groceries – with an empty cart, a half-baked list and no plan for how I will fit everything in my trunk.

So I parked and hesitantly approached the orange sliding doors. There was still time to turn back. No one would know. But that’s not how I roll. I do things solely because I can film them for Instagram and make people think I am cool, edgy or in this case – handy as f*ck. A short mental pep talk, a quick slap to my own face later and I enter the vibrant-and-not-in-the-slightest-case-pearly orange gates to home remodeling heaven. The ceilings are tall, the aisles are big, the signs are signing, and OH MY GOD EVERYONE IS WEARING MATCHING ORANGE APRONS.

tumblr_ogcj1vKVeq1vbuxm2o1_500

The Home Depot people deciding whether or not to subject their employees to a burnt orange hell.

Home Depot was like a choose my own adventure. And I was on a quest to do something amazing. Only where to start? Bathroom? Garden? Lighting? Hardware? The opportunities were endless and I was only limited by my own incompetence and the fact that they were closing in 15 minutes.

Ignoring the fact that I severely overestimated how many middle-aged men who consider Home Depot to be their personal Lord and Savior would judge me – literally not one human, man or woman, looked at me in any way shape or form – I made my way to the lumber section because everyone who is anyone knows every good project starts with, that’s right, lumber. I had a rudimentary sketch and an idea in my head of what I needed, but there I stood at a crossroads between four different aisles, full of different kinds of wood and I had absolutely no idea how to navigate this sea of pine and walnuts.

giphy.gif

Me tying to figure out which wood is the ‘good wood.’

But the man in the orange apron did. His name was Johnathan and he was my home reno sherpa. Johnathan told me about quarters of inches, types of plywood and all of the things my dad probably wanted to tell me when I was younger but I was too busy not being interested in learning practical skills at 14.

Johnathan didn’t care that I didn’t know that screws and nails aren’t interchangeable. He didn’t bat an eye when he asked what kind of wood I wanted and I replied with, “Whatever is the cheapest.” He just cared that I was there and literally trying my best to look like I belonged. Or he just wanted me to leave so he could close up, the jury is still out.

giphy 7.13.38 PM

Johnathan when I told him this wasn’t my first rodeo.

He looked at my rudimentary sketch and knew exactly the kinds of things I needed. He even cut the wood to size before sending me on my way with a cart full of stuff and no idea what to do with it when I got home.

Because what I came to realize is that, Home Depot truly is like Costco. While everything may be disorganized and the things you need aren’t ever really in the place they’re supposed to be, the people are helpful and at the end of the day, do any of us really know what we’re doing? No, right? Please tell me it’s a no.

e8e11c82f5a8ed8a498ed39b14f84b23.gif

Everyone who knows how to do basic home improvement tasks.

About two hours and 147 wrong turns later, I said goodbye to Johnathan and his orange apron, checked out at the orange cash register and walked my orange cart full of stuff out the two orange sliding exit doors to my car and felt like I had just experienced something amazing.

But really I think I just inhaled too much sawdust.

Advertisements

18738698_4561739636657_8679615113086014751_o.jpgMy name is Meg and this blog is mine and that dog is Mickey and he is also mine.

A few quick housekeeping things:

I am a Sr. Copywriter. Peeps call me Meggy Olsen. (Literally, no one calls me that.) But the title is super offish and it should make ya’ quake in ya’ boots.

This blog is copyrighted by the gods of copywriting because, um, just don’t steal my shit.

All opinions expressed, especially the good ones that you agree with, are mine. The opinions you don’t agree with are still mine, and you can contact me via my About page if you want to get into a war with words.

All rights reserved. No part of this blog may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without my permission.

Now go forth. Please scroll and read and enjoy.

Step Brothers Might Be Getting A Sequel So Here Are 4 More Movies That Should Follow

We’re going to the Catalina Fucking Wine Mixer!

Everyone get out your eyeballs, your most expandable pants and all of the alcohol you can fit into the crevices of your body because Step Brothers may be getting a sequel.

ecooqhc

[Insert comment about The Princess Diaries 3 getting a trilogy and me not mentioning it.]

[Insert rebuttal comment about how Anne Hathaway is my nemesis and I don’t like her face.]

Honestly, I was a bit hesitant to hear that one of my top five movies was getting the reboot treatment. If it’s anything like Ghosts of Sequels Past, it’s not going to be good. I mean, the odds are pretty much stacked against them.

Over here in the graveyard of “What The Fuck, Why Did You Ruin This Classic?” we have Anchorman 2, The Hangover 2/3, 22 Jump Street and an atrocity so horrible, I saved my eyeballs the equivalent to the plight of a thousand sandstorms,  Zoolander 2.

This is like becoming a thing now, though, right? Script writers today are basically just those dudes that leave to try and find a better hookup but come back to the bar at 2:30am and will hit on someone until they agree to go home with you (for the right price of about 30 million dollars, six red wines, and a trailer full of ONLY the green M&Ms).

I know, I know, but this one will be different. It’s 2016 and my new year’s resolution was to be positive. Or at least have better posture. I can’t remember, I’m slouching.

In hopes that Hollywood doesn’t totally screw this one up, here’s a list of four other Will Ferrell movies that could use a (good) reboot.

 

ELF

Need to see Buddy take on the country with the sole plot line being saving Mr. Narwhal from captivity. I like whales and I like them to be free. You go, Mr. Narwhal, you go.

giphy

OLD SCHOOL

The only reason my dedication to ribbon dancing was validated was because of the majestic display of athleticism that Frank the Tank displayed in this movie. Plus, I honestly believe Blue was my boy and I need someone to avenge him.

post-40524-will-ferrell-floor-routine-gif-rgth

WEDDING CRASHERS

I feel like they forgot to mention Rule No. 88 – Make thy sequels whenst they are demanded. And someone give him some goddamn meatloaf for Pete’s sake.

tumblr_lqlcsm2iva1qfzlwfo1_500

THE OTHER GUYS

I need this more because of Mark Walhberg and his abdominals, but also because Gator needs his Gat. But not immediately because Eva Mendez is a genetically impossible human that sometimes I just feel bad about myself.

tumblr_lzkx6rebij1qd8nujo1_500

What movies would you like to see get a sequel?

Will I Ever Love Anything As Much As My Boyfriend Loves Sports?

There are some relationships that are, for lack of a better term, enviable.

You know, the ones fueled by passion, commitment, humor and above all, trust. The ones that, at the end of the day, regardless of how much they fight, you know they’ll make up and be alright and continue to support each other.

This is how my boyfriend feels about sports.

Let’s just be clear, I definitely do not hate sports. I’ll sit and watch whatever ball is on television as long as there are a reasonable amount of snacks and alcohol in front of me.

wine-gif-blonde

But there’s something seeing someone constantly have another person on their mind, wondering what they’re doing, checking their status updates and talking to his friends about what they’re doing next.

Because he knows how important investing into a relationship is and he’s proud to show off those who he supports.

baseballyankeefans

You know, the way he just KNOWS everything about every single player on the field, can recite their college teams, even high schools, without even looking up to the left to recall the memory.

Because he cares about them that much to know that to truly appreciate someone, you have to know where they came from.

excited-nets-fan-nba-fans

I see the passion he has for his fantasy football team, caring deeply about their injuries, yelling at them incessantly for missing catchable balls, touchdowns, and field goal opportunities.

Because he honestly sees their potential and he knows they can do better.

openeyes

It doesn’t matter where he is financially, he’s ready to double down and spend money when he may not exactly have a lot of it. He’s committed to being there every step of the way, from making it to the small games all the way up to the biggest of stages.

Because he knows he can trust them to show him a good time, even if his expectations don’t always match his reality.

mad-buckeye-fan

To know what it’s like to hate someone so much, swear to never come back to them again, but your bond, your loyalty is so strong, that you’re right back on the couch the next day watching that same team that ruined your life the night before.

Because he’s loyal and he’ll be there through the ups and downs. No matter what.

bears-thumbs-down

 

Now, that’s love.

Do I ever think I’ll love something more than my boyfriend loves sports?

To be honest, I think the answer is no.


What do you think? Do boys love sports more than anything else?

I Just Realized, I’m Twenty-Five And My Life Is Over.

I think the best and worst moment of my life was when I realized I had turned into my parents.

Not the sixteen year old realization, though, that would be sad. Not that the twenty-five year old realization is that much more profound.

But there’s something about growing up; I mean, actually growing up that really just grows arms and slaps you in the face and lets you know that everything that happened before this moment was just a prelude to you being an internally old human being, destined to live in yoga pants, braless on your couch watching reruns of Friends thinking about all those “good days” without responsibility.

At sixteen, if I had realized I turned out to be my parents I would have done everything in my power to regain my youth and just mess shit up for the fun of it.  As a junior in high school, you never, under any circumstances, want to be your parents.

It’s like going to that party and realizing that the girl who was always “the mom” was there, and she was going to make sure you didn’t drink too much beer, fall asleep somewhere inappropriate, or raid too much of that host’s refrigerator, so when the actual parents came home, it just looked like the kid in charge got super hungry one night and binge ate all the deli meats.

The worst part about realizing that I’ve turned into my parents is the fact that I’ve followed the status quo – depending on what you believe in, of course – and have finally graduated from crazy, party, uncontrollable college girl into full blown quasi-housewife, happy and willing to anticipate the needs of my significant other far beyond my own.

And the stark contrast is that I’m borderline, if not over the fence okay about it.

It’s like I turned twenty-five and all the sudden my brain cells and neurons started triggering all this nonsense about me not being the most important person in the world, and that someone else’s needs matter far more than my own.  And holy shit, I haven’t even had a child yet so this post will change in about five years.

I digress.

The best part about turning into my parents is the fact that I am saving a boat load of money.  I mean, like, saving is totally the thing to do right now.  I am hoarding without intervention because no one seems to think I have a problem with the fact that money isn’t confetti and I don’t need to throw it around to prove that I have it.

And hormonally, at my age, some people know putting it in a bank is far more worthwhile than drinking four glasses of wine at some bar called “Taco” that doesn’t even serve mexican food.

Sidenote: Not that I don’t still drink wines at Taco and complain about the fact that they don’t serve Mexican food. I still do that. It’s god damn outrageous and the owners need to be quarantined and condemned to a lifetime of solely eating burritos.

The other great part is that I don’t think I’m hormonally imbalanced, although that is still up for debate, but there is something extremely and unfortunately true about the phases of life.

We all go through these stages, obviously at different paces considering the circumstances, but we all do.  Birth to teen being the nourishment, get what we need to survive stage.  Teen to young adult being the fake it ’til we make it stage. And then here, where I am, the holy shit I’ve made it, I’m an adult, paying my own way through life, figuring out who I am and what I’m going to do for the rest of it stage.

Whatever stage you’re in, you’re going to make it out alive. It might not be on your timeline, it might not be the way you want it, but you’ll make it.

Just look at your parents.  The entire time they were telling you what to do, where to be, what grades to get, and what goals to set, they knew that someday, down the line, whatever you were going through was a phase. Because they went through it too.

And when you take a step back and realize that, on a Friday night, you’d rather be home, pants off, braless on your couch watching reruns of Friends and remembering the “good old days,” then you’ll know that you’ve turned into your parents.

Life is funny that way.  Things always seem to come full circle.  The people you distrusted the most and hated being around now become the sole reason for your coming home.  At the end of the day, your parents are fucking awesome.

Because when they had you, they had to wait twenty-five years or more for that moment to come, and think of how goddamn grateful they are that you are just now realizing how much shit they had to put up with in order to get to this place.

And be thankful that you finally turned into your parents.


Have you turned into your parents? If not, are you scared?

The Unwritten Rules Of Being In A Relationship

The conditions under which my boyfriend and I moved in together were simple.  Cheaper rent, reduced travel, and ultimately, he would be the human barrier that would save me if anything remotely dangerous happened in the dead of the night.

Around 3:30 am last night, a fire drill went off in the midst of my deepest slumbers.  Unbeknownst to me, the jackasses who live on the floor above us engaged in a little snow storm marijuana toking session, and basically masked the entire top floor with a cloud of smoke.

The roommate looks at me after hearing how obnoxiously loud the fire alarm is and says, “Close the bedroom door.”

To which I replied, “Uhh, no, I think we need to evacuate.”

After frantically throwing on as many blizzard fighting layers of clothing and waiting outside for around twenty minutes, we were allowed back in the building.  But only now have I realized that my roommate was not delivering on one of the main promises made when we decided to cohabitate.  Something remotely dangerous happened in the middle of the night, and he was not being a good human barrier.

(I realize this is all based upon waking up mid-slumber, and under different circumstances, he probably would have had a clearer head.)

Which brings me to my next point.  Along with safety and security, there are certain unwritten rules that boyfriends have to follow.

All gender roles, feminism, sexism, and all that other politically correct mumbo jumbo aside, of course. I see you, strong, independent women who don’t need no man to feel worthy. #Respect

Here are the unwritten rules you need to follow in order to be a successful boyfriend/good human:

Hold my things: When you decide you are going to date a girl, you unofficially sign up to hold all her belongings when she doesn’t want to carry a purse.  Credit card, money, and ID will now go in your wallet and her keys in your pockets, because her outfit is way more important without a bulky bag, and you have like forty-six places to hold things anyways.

Let me wear your stuff: Clothes are always more comfortable when they’re not yours.  Sweatshirts that are four sizes too big definitely seem to fit better, and men’s sweatpants are what dreams are made of.  And hats.  Always hats.

Don’t get mad when I eat your food: I know this is like, totally, illegal in like fifteen countries, and frowned upon everywhere else, but if I want a bite of your food, you need to give it to me.  I know I ordered what I wanted, and you ordered what you wanted, but that’s why we didn’t order the same thing and I’d rather not have FOMO.

Listen to my stories: Everyone in the history of earth knows that women are horrendous story tellers.  But you’re going to have to listen to every single one of them.  The office drama, that kid on the subway, the one about how long the line was at Forever 21 on New Year’s Eve. They’re going to suck, they’re not going to be funny, and they probably won’t make sense.  And I’m sorry I’m not sorry for that.

Give me directions: I think I speak solely for myself with this one, but I’m going to generalize to everyone anyways.  You need to be prepared to tell me where I’m going and give me proper notice of when I’m supposed to turn left, right, etc.  Google maps can steer me wrong, you can’t.

Make good choices under pressure: Like, you know, if there’s a fire drill in the middle of the night.  You should tell me to get my shit together and haul ass down the stairs instead of just ignoring it and trying to fall back asleep.  It’s these life or death situations that make or break a relationship. Mostly because if we burned alive no one would be in the relationship anymore, because we’d both be dead.

Crack my back: What’s the point of having someone double your weight that can lift you up, crack your back, and realign your spine with one strong, upward grab? That’s not a trick question. There’s actually no other point than to have them lift you up, crack your back, and realign your spine with one, strong upward grab.


What are some unwritten rules you can think of?

Girl Scouts: The Most Notorious Gang In History

No one is safe from the brownie vest. NO ONE.

Half and Half

gang (noun): a group of people which shares an identity and a common purpose; often know to fight against other groups with similar interests. 

Pouty Meg, front and center. Pouty Meg, front and center. #RuthlessTroop156

Have you ever tried to say “No,” to a gaggle of five-year-old girls, all of whom are dead set on winning first place in a bake sale competition?

If you were one of the few brave souls who stood up to the corrupt tactics of using seasonal treats to transform innocent girls into tyrannical, power hungry  preteens, you probably did not live to tell the tale.

So we salute you, brave, dead soul, for your attempts to stand up to the most notorious gang in history: The Girl Scouts of America.

To the naked eye, a Girl Scout is a poster of all that is good in the universe: a volunteer at retirement centers, one who spends time picking up trash around local parks, earning badges…

View original post 564 more words

Food Taught Me Everything I Ever Needed To Know About Life

If you haven’t put on a few lbs during the holiday season, you’re not doing it right.

Half and Half

You can learn a lot about a person by what they eat.  And no, I’m not saying you should stare at people while they’re eating, that’s rude.  Unless it’s a celebrity, then please report back because I NEED to know what Oprah eats for breakfast that makes her so powerful.

 

09_food_secrets_what_skinny_people_eat_stay_slim_xxxlarge

This may come as a shock – or it won’t because you’ll realize that my brain works in strange ways, and this is just one of those things that makes me unique – but food has taught me everything I ever needed to know about life.

Real talk.

Sidenote: Let me start off by saying that if you looked in my cabinet where I store all my food, you’d probably think I had a child.  But alas, those are my groceries, I just eat like I’m seven.  So this is one of those times where I will make judgments…

View original post 619 more words

Image

Remember when…

End of the year reblog marathon continues! Here’s my dad putting my mom in a bag.

Half and Half

my dad put my mom in a bag?

and i wonder why i am the way i am. and i wonder why i am the way i am.

In all seriousness, my parents are the best people in the world, and capturing moments like these make me realize how awesome they are.

View original post

You Should Know This For The Apocalypse.

[From the Archives] Bringing it back to the time I thought I was going to die alone, which by the way, was also yesterday. But who is keeping track?

Half and Half

This-Is-The-End-All-2-500 My mom was really into that show Revolution when it first aired. For those who don’t know, it’s a post-apocalyptic television show that focuses on a town living life fifteen years after a global blackout.  All the sci-fi mumbo jumbo and dramatic elements are present. Alliances are formed.  Enemies are made.  Friendships are tested.  But above all, survival is essential.

The show premiered at a very convenient time in 2012.  I was living in Connecticut, and we had just survived a nine-day electricity blackout thanks to that biatch, Hurricane Sandy. Having endured more than a week without power, I pretty much adopted a Katniss Everdeen alter ego.

I fully believed I could engage and win in a survival of the fittest game if it ever came to it.

Going over a week without a shower and blindly navigating my way from the kitchen to my bedroom after my midnight snack…

View original post 615 more words