Game Shows I Would Dominate

I impressed my family recently by answering three consecutive questions correctly during an episode of Jeopardy.

The category was some fluff along the lines of "80's Pop Music". But, since my "Who is Bono?" had impressed the elderly so much, it got my confidence up enough to cause me to wonder what other game shows I could totally dominate.

Wheel of Fortune: Can you spell? Can you spell 1-3 words in a row at one time? Well, I can. I think I could do pretty well for myself playing 30 minutes on the Wheel. I should still have enough upper body strength to spin the wheel at least one full rotation. I can clap and whoop "C'mon big money!" with the best of them. And, I already have my three consonants and one vowel picked out for the final round. It's like they're making this too easy for me.

Family Feud: Families shouldn't feud. But, if they so choose to, it should be televised in syndication. All you have to do is force yourself to think like a hundred random peers. (You think this would be easy, but the show has proven that theory wrong.) My slapping skills are superior, so the buzzer wouldn't phase me. My only obstacle would be playing the pervy modern version of the show. I'm not sure the mind of 100 random perverts is a place I want to dally near. Revive Richard Dawson for one episode and I'm sold. (Even though I'm a little uncomfortable with the idea of him trying to wrestle a kiss out of me overtop of the microphone.)

The Mole: Although, there's a little too much timed running around involved, I still think I could have won The Mole. They had to go and take it off the air, though, before I had the chance to prove myself! I always figured I could walk slowly, feigning side cramps, during the running competitions (although, I probably wouldn't need to feign...) thus causing my competitors to think I was The Mole sabotaging that round, therefore eliminating themselves during the end of show quiz. (Never heard of the show, so none of this makes sense to you? Well, click here, I'm too busy bragging about my game plan to explain things right now.) My ultimate fantasy was to be chosen to be the saboteur, yes The Mole. I'm an excellent prankster, but more importantly the show's mole gets to have secret meetings in their hotel room with the show's producers and its host, the fairest of them all, Mr. Anderson Cooper. My not-so-secret crush and ultimate boo. The mole is committed to sticking it through all 13 episodes, running and all. No quitting, no taking a suitcase of bribe money and walking away; but you can cry like a baby, so we're good. The very thought of traveling around Europe, creating mystery and intrigue with my Silver Fox.. Late night pow-wows about the strategies of the next episode... "Can we cuddle while we discuss this? It's late and oh so exhausting creating sabotage..." Ba-da-bing, ba-da-bang, white-haired babies on board. (Yes. I am totally aware. Just leave me in this place for one moment.)

Plinko: I would not do very well on The Price is Right, seeing that I've rarely paid full retail price on a thing in my life. But, I've always been drawn to the Plinko round. Any episode that didn't feature a Plinko session was simply a wasted hour of my life that I would never be able to retrieve. I will even admit that for many years, I thought the game was called Plunko. Well, those little discs plunk more than they plink, yes? Let's just be real about it.

Jeopardy: You understand that we're talking Kid's Week, right? 

Hollywood Game Night: NBC's newest game show is currently the only one I bother watching. Pop culture knowledge? Check. Obnoxious miming of song lyrics? Easy peasy. More buzzer slapping? Um, yeah, I've got that covered. Pretending that people like Wayne Brady, Kristin Chenoweth and the guy from Chuck are just your normal, every day, weekend party guests? Why not!

Just hand over a bag of money now. I've got this. (No really, give me some money. I could really use it at the moment.)

House Hunting is a Load of Crap

Let me start off by saying this: HGTV is a network of liars.

House hunting is not as fun as reality TV would have you think. There's no half-million dollar budget, dry-witted realtor, miles of granite countertop, hickory flooring, river rock showers, nor a film crew to capture all the amusing hijinks. (And, those Property Brothers won't even give me the time of day!)

No. In reality, hickory floors are not in your price-point, your realtor never bothered calling back (probably after scoffing at the tiny commission your purchase would generate), and all highjinks so far involved are sad and not anywhere near worth documenting for posterity.

House hunting it stressful.  House hunting is bad for your self-esteem. And, it basically just makes you have to go to the bathroom in more repetition than you are normally used to.

As my regular readers and friends all know; YES! I currently live with my parents. 

Roomies since day one. Now, with bigger jammies and a newer paci.

But, what you may not know is that home ownership was the last remaining unticked bulletpoint on my "Before I Turn 40" bucket list. (Last bulletpoint! I am SO dang close!)

What you also may not know is that this year-of-the-big-4-0 happens to coincide with my parents sudden urge to downsize, once again, and become snowbirds. 

What you really don't know (unless you see me everyday, then you already know too much and will probably want to toggle back to Facebook at this point...) is that our current home sold in under four days and we all need to vacate the premises in less than five weeks having absolutely no place to go.

House hunting has moved into super-stress mode! 

[Pause writing for additional bathroom break]

I'd considered breaking a promise on the lease agreement for my storage unit, by sleeping there for a few nights/weeks/months, if need be. (I've kept enough promises in 39 years, I should be allowed a freebie at this point, right?)

But, the mad packing dash has changed the comfort level of my storage unit from this (above) to that (below).

(Although, I'm training myself to fall asleep in this posture as a backup plan.)

One of my other pre-40 bulletpoints that I did manage to pull off thus far was to "not get married".  No shit. That was an actual goal of my thirties. (As if I were having diamond rings thrown at me from every direction. "Stop trying to marry me handsome, intelligent, hilarious men! I'm not that kind of girl!")

The real reason for that "goal" was that I actually wanted to take that decade to explore my independence and straighten out some heavy financial, spiritual and familial stuff.  Made sense at the time, but was not at all considering the fact that had I only left that one goal off the list, I could now have a housing budget that was double in size (making that river rock shower a total possibility.)*

I can't blame God. We all know that He carves a much wiser path for our lives than we ever could. But, I will blame Destiny's Child in small part. "♫ The car I'm driving, I bought it! The house I live in, where is it?! ♫" Why'd you get us all worked up, ladies? This crap is hard!

Here's the state of my housing options as of this week's realty listings:

• The pre-forclosed condo that's in my dream neighborhood, but has been bank-owned for over nine months and is not yet listed for sale. (I'm waiting on the aforementioned realtor to look into the bidding possibilities and get back with me.) The comps for the neighborhood were raised with a recent sale this past week, which has caused the prices in the neighborhood to be suddenly driven up, which has only aggravated my stress-belly further. [Insert additional bathroom trip.]
• The okay-priced home that is, not only two lots down from the local sex shop, but also about 100 yards from where I saw a wino passed out in the grass with his paper bag last summer. (I wish I were exaggerating!)
• The newly refinished home that lies just across the city border. Priced a bit higher than what I have to put down and in a neighborhood where I've spotted at least three places where I could likely procure crystal meth. (If you are confused, that last point is a negative. I do not have any need for meth and am not likely to in the coming years.)

Sigh.

Well, if we can't classify it as being fun, what is a successful house-hunting experience? 

I guess it's just one where you eventually end up with a place to live in. After you've pooped. A whole lot.