And the winner is. . .

Do you ever continue to read articles or blogs with titles like this one, knowing that the last time you entered any sort of contest was the sixth grade spelling bee but secretly hoping that somehow, by the grace of the contest Gods (they are Roman of course, in case you were wondering), your name is at the end of that sentence?  Admit it.  That's why you are still reading.  You're wondering if there is any chance that I might have done a secret drawing including all of my blog followers for that car that you've always dreamed of and I am about to read the winner.  Get your surprise face on because. . . drum roll. . . this is no such blog entry.  I have nothing to give away.  But maybe if I become less sadistic in my writing, I can convince a local eatery to give me some coupons or something?  No?  Anyway.

Declaration:  I'm starting a pageant.  Yes, it's true.  It's like that old advice that says if you are always behind the camera, you'll never have to be in pictures.  Can you see the parallel?  Not that anyone would ever force me to be in a pageant but you get my point.

Anyway, the pageant is going to be called the "Miss I've never done anything that could land me on the news nor have I ever taken nudy pictures America Pageant".  I had to add "America" in there because I think it's a pageant rule - there has to be some sort of geography limitation to my pageant so I may as well go big or go home.  Also, that may not be the correct spelly of "nudy" but I like it so it stays.  Ah, the joys of running your own business.

All of this came from all of the crazy news about these young ladies wanting to represent our country in a crown and, nearly without fail, their title being questioned because of some previous run-in with Hugh "the pretty boy" Hefner or one of his cohorts.  I'm sad that what was one (I think) a pretty big deal has turned into something so crazy and embarrassing.

So, here's the premise.  We will take any 14-30 year old girl who can officially state the title of my pageant and have it ring true about their life.  OK, now that there are 100 or so of you still reading and able to participate, we can proceed.

The age range is so wide for two reasons: first, 14 seems to be about the age when girls are really susceptible to bad things.  Isn't that sad?  I was at least a sophomore in high school before I knew enough about life to even think about getting in trouble.  (Quick note - that is all I did, too. . . thought about it.  Then I got back to doing my homework).  Second, and most importantly, if I narrowed the age bracket too much, we'd have no contestants.  Everyone good with the age window?  Good.  Moving on.

Sidenote: This is the part where I hope that you are all visualizing me up on a stage, dictating directions about my pageant.  It's more powerful that way, don't you think.  Got the visual?  Yes, I'm in something with glitter.

The pageant will consist of four rounds, each round offering additional points and are absolutely weighted because let's face it, some things really DO matter more than others.  The categories are as follows:

1. Thorough background check.  You might me asking "Wait, I thought we already established that I'm a good girl because I can say the title and have it be applicable to my life."  Wrong.  You underestimate me.  That "use your best judgement" attitude is how five of the last seven big pageant winners in this country ended up making the front page of the tabloids - their "best judgement" clearly wasn't "best" enough.  So, we're taking the proper precautions and doing a thorough background check BEFORE you step on stage.  We'll be gathering information from your friends and family and then showing it all to your mom.  If she shudders, winces or cries in any form, your outta here.  In addition, because you may have a hard core mom, if I shudder, wince or cry in any form, you're also out.

2. Intelligence.  Little to no weight will be put on the actual classes taken in school but more on how you performed in them.  What I'm looking for is to know that you understand your limits.  If you only took gym but got all A's, I say good for you for knowing your boundaries.  I'm proud when people can successfully admit that they will just never be a chemical engineer.  Know what you're good at, harness it and attack.  That's what we're looking for.  In addition, contestants will be forced to talk about social matters, media, politics, Jersey Shore. . . WAIT!  How did that get in there?  Not in my pageant you don't!

3. Talent.  I like this part of the normal pageants so I'm leaving it in.  But, to make things more exciting, every umpteenth year I will not be allowing piano playing.  I'll decide if this year is an "umpteenth" year two days before the talent portion begins so I suggest you have a back-up.  I'll leave in singing because I enjoy it, but I do put a clause on here that the judges can change your song selection if they don't like it; or I can if I don't like what it stands for.  Remember the title of the pageant, people.  This should be no surprise.  Sidenote: if you thought that this last clause probably meant that your rendition of "Hit Me Baby One More Time" probably wouldn't cut it, you're probably right.

4. Fashion.  For the first portion of the contest, you will be given $50 to put together your best Old Navy outfit and strut your stuff.  The second portion will be a random drawing of candid pictures of you over the last 4 years - this is how we will judge your fashion sense.  Important sidenote: if any of these pictures could be pictures of you laying on a bar at a frat house somewhere, I would revert you back to previous advice to get out now.

Based on these criteria and general likability, we'll find ourselves a winner.  If at any point the winner of our pageant does a naughty and gets herself on the news, not only will she loser her crown and all of the goodies that go with it, she will be sentenced to 500 hours of community service.  That's just how we roll.

Now I know this sounds a little difficult but imagine putting  THAT on a resume?  Employers everywhere would know for sure that you are not a liability and you could basically get into any setting with the President. . . or an audience with the Pope.  Imagine the possibilities.

Labeling

So I'm attacking another one of my "must write about" topics today and I decided to hit up a short one.  (You saw how long the engagement piece was and I just don't want to bore my small, but hopefully entertained audience to death!).  So here we are. . . let's talk labeling.

I'm not talking about the people kind of labeling because while I would like to get on an emotionally-charged, "this is good for humanity" soapbox where I tell how it's wrong to judge other people, the other side of that soapbox would have a giant tag that says "A hypocrite stands here" and I'm just not ready for that kind of ridicule or commitment; if I write about not labeling people, I'd certainly have to remove it from my list of "favorite bad things to do" and I'm just not at a point where I can stop yet.  So, you can stop feeling like this is going to be a guilt blog right. . . . now.  Moving on.

I'm talking about literal labeling - you know those little machines that print out labels, those ones that are basically like crack by way of addiction and like Costco by way of justification (can't you justify buying just about anything in bulk when you go into Costco?  "Well who wouldn't need a 10 year supply of hot pockets?" or "Of course mascara should only be sold in a 50 gallon drum.  I can refill. . .").  Once the labels start coming out, you think you have to label everything and it's a cold day in Phoenix before you can stop.

This all came to a head the other day when I was at work and noticed that the three utensil holders on the table all had labels on them, instructing the user (myself) which utensil I was about to use.  Right then then question came into my mind "Which comes first - knowing what a fork is or knowing how to read the word 'fork'?"  (It's an age-old mystery. . . just like the chicken and the egg.)  I would assume that most people can recognize a fork before they know how to read the word, yes?  Fair assumption?

I think that in cases like this, labeling just doesn't do it for me.  I can look down into the container and see what's in in just as fast as reading the front.  So, I pose the question to the masses: Is this labeling necessary?

I feel like it would be like me placing a label on my screen that says "computer".  Yep, sure is.  Or a label on the big brown block of wood at the entrance to our office that says "door".  Are we learning English?  Isn't it recognizable for what it is?

I respect labeling solid containers that you don't want to sift through for a certain holiday decoration or winter clothes but only if the contents aren't readily available for your perusal anyway.  When you start labeling clear totes or kitchen utensils, I start thinking that you were just bored and needed something to label. . . other than your neighbor (OK, you didn't really think I'd get through this entire blog without a little labeling guilt/humor, did you?  Oh you did?  That's cute. . .)

I tell you what, these label makers are like drugs (so I hear) or chocolate (so I know).  I'm actually surprised that I don't walk into more "organized" houses with labels on the cupboards in the kitchen - here are the cups, here are the forks, here are. . . wait a minute.  This actually sounds convenient!  Where is that label maker. . . .