Shopping With A Fangirl

If you have never been shopping with a fangirl, you are missing out on quite the experience.
If the fangirl isn't talking about her chosen subject, she's looking for merchandise about her chosen subject; if she falls silent too long, she's stuck in her own little world -- which revolves around her chosen subject -- while simultaneously still searching for merchandise. Then, of course, if she finds something that remotely reminds her of her chosen subject, she emits a squeal that only certain animals can hear, while rushing toward the object; whether she purchases it, or simply cuddles it for a second before putting it back on the shelf, odds are likely she'll eye-ball it as long as possible. Yes, fangirls are a crazy bunch. I can say these things matter-of-factly simply because I have spent years fangirling something or other; one learns to control it, but it's always somewhere in the back of your mind, ready to pop up when you're in the middle of real-life things, like timed exams, or when you're sitting in the warm glow of the computer screen at four o'clock in the morning.
Since I rarely go shopping, I rarely see fangirls; but, the other day, I came across one in its retail habitat. My mother and I were browsing the Christmas section of our local Target, mindlessly jabbering about who knows what pointlessness. As we made our way from the holiday stuff to the back isles, I saw this...

...and made a rather inappropriate joke along these lines...


About two seconds later, a little girl -- about eight years old -- came around the corner screaming "JUSTIN BIEBER!" over and over again. Her mother eventually got her to settle down, but she kept whispering his name in that creepy way.
"Aw, how cute," I thought to myself, "but, oh, what she's in for." Hey, no one said the fangirl road was easy, OK?
I thought nothing more of what I had just seen, and we went on our merry way.
We made a detour through the DVD section, looking for a Christmas present for my sister; it was while my mother was on the telephone, sorting out what seasons of which television show she wanted, that I saw it. I raised my arms, let off that high-pitch squeal, and shouted "RONNIE!"

Yes, I just fangirled Ronald Reagan. And I am unashamed.

The moral of the story: once a fangirl, always a fangirl.
Of course, I'm perfectly fine with that.

No Gingerbread Man Is Safe

I rarely venture out of my little universe. I rather like it in my bubble -- mostly due to the central air conditioning, but that's neither here nor there. In The Bubble, we have good radio; Beatles (and all that comes with them), Donovan, Peter and Gordon, Plain White T's -- you get the idea. Yet there is that time every year, from the third Thursday in November, through December 25th, that I must relinquish Roger the Bose to my mother. That time of year when I start to slightly lose my mind, and cling to my noise-cancelling headphones. That's right, folks, Christmas music season.
There are a few outlets my mother likes to use for Christmas music, one being a local radio station; every year, they ask listeners to vote whether they do or don't want the holiday music on the station 24/7. Earlier this week, we participated in the vote; the results were pretty one-sided at 98% for the holiday music, so I left it at that. My musical world gets put on personal-mode from Thanksgiving, so I actually didn't give it a second thought -- that is, until this afternoon, when I was told "they've started playing the Christmas music on the radio!"
Um, what?

I tuned in to hear the little Charlie Brown children singing 'Christmastime Is Here', and as the sounds processed, I shut them off with haste.
This cannot be happening.
Today is only the tenth day of November. I should have another two weeks before I have to hear 'The Little Drummer Boy' thirteen times in a day (true story). As I was dwelling on what I just heard, I noticed that the city's Christmas lights -- which they put up about a week ago -- were turned on. Yes, in the afternoon. Some of them were still on after the sun had gone down (they must be testing them before the big unveiling later in the month). Then, of course, I noticed that the college had put out a giant 'Peace On Earth' lighted display right at the door I go in and out of.
This is absolute lunacy. Let's get over Thanksgiving before we work ourselves up for the festive season, m'kay, everybody? I mean, I can't be the only person to recognize that starting Christmas ten days after Halloween is a little nuts; our dad wouldn't even have let us eat our Halloween candy by now...

...so why, in the name of all that's good and cheezy, should we be breaking into Christmas?
Society will make us switch into holiday mode after Thanksgiving, but until then, I shall fight this kicking and screaming. Let's start here.


Hang on, where have I seen this idea on a bigger scale?

Oh, that's where.

Reginald Kitty is not amused.

I don't care that I've used that video on the blog already, the line of similarity had to be drawn.