#starregistry

[tunes-and-runes]

My love bought me a star tonight! Ever since I was a little girl I've dreamed of having my own star. I've been having a really rough time recently and it's been getting me down. I wake up to this, and I'm in tears. I love him so much!

[daniel1921-blog2]

Finding a place to find a star, or name a star for you or your loved one? Try BUY A STAR today! Their delivery is really quick and great customer service with 24 hour chat on their website.

[haylztorm]

Dad always loved the sky. He could name all the constellations and would spend many nights watching the international space station pass overhead. When a friend suggested naming a star for him I knew it would be a great way to always remember him. I'm so glad Mum liked her Mothers Day present. #ripdad #family #mothersdaygift #starregistry #fordad

[omarxnava]

Day 1 of #100DaysOfWriting

So I recently became unemployed.  It happened for a number of reasons but the simplest explanation I can give is that I didn’t want to work full-time and my job didn’t want me to work at all.  I now find myself with more free time than I’ve had since 2010, when I first moved to LA.

I remember that spring/summer being one of the best times of my post-engineering life.  Carefree days filled with discovering LA, library visits, hikes, jogs, super smash brothers, riding my razor scooter and most importantly, writing.  I used to write new jokes on a regular basis.  Every monday, I’d start out with new jokes/premises and work on them throughout the week at a number of open mics.  Sunday night was the test.  The goal was to try a new 3 minutes every week at the iO West 11:30 pm open mic to see if I could get a laugh out of the 20 or so comedians still waiting to go up.  I don’t know what the success rate was but it didn’t matter because at least I was writing.  Once I started working part-time, and eventually full-time, the writing slowed to a snail’s pace.  In an effort to get back to that mental state, I’m going to force myself to write something new, everyday for 100 days.  It may be some jokes, it might be a short story.  Maybe fiction, maybe non-fiction.  An essay, or a sketch, or a poem, or a letter.  Whatever it is, it’s just to get my mind back to creating again.

For whoever reads these posts, thank you and hopefully it’s something you like.

My first entry begins now:

Harold Stuckey had never had a harder decision to make in his 47 years of “life”.  Once, in middle school, a bully asked if Harold would rather get punched with the left or the right hand, and even that seems like a no-brainer compared to the Sophie’s Choice he had before him at the moment.  On this particular day, Harold’s wife, Arlene, happened to be turning 43.  Arlene had always eschewed material objects ever since her father was killed by a material object when she was a young girl.  She preferred more heart-felt gifts of the “It’s the thought that counts” variety.

One of Arlene’s favorite gifts of recent memory came from her childhood friend, Billy.  Two years ago, Billy had orchestrated a birthday flash mob to perform the “Thriller” dance outside the Cheesecake Factory that Harold had taken Arlene to for lunch.  Harold, of course, kicked himself for divulging the information to Billy as he had no clue something this obnoxiously worn out would happen.  “The ‘Thriller’ dance?” Harold thought.  “The one that two-thirds of all flash mobs perform?  Did Billy even have trouble recruiting and teaching these people the dance, or did they already know it from having volunteered before in all the other flash mobs?”  He hated Billy.  “What sort of a name is Billy for a grown up, anyway?”  Not only had he upstaged Harold, he had also ruined the “surprise” birthday lunch that Harold had planned.  “What a perfect lunch this is!” Arlene had proclaimed shortly before their waiter dropped his tray and started shuffling into the courtyard with every other guest who was eating al fresco.  With every shoulder tick, Harold’s blood pressure rose higher and higher until it rivaled Michael Jackson’s falsetto.  It finally came to a crescendo when Billy jumped out in front of the group donning a red leather jacket and led the remainder of the dance.  Arlene, being none the wiser, thought Harold taking her to lunch was part of the set up to Billy’s gift, not a gift in and of itself.  She was so happy that her childhood best friend and her husband had finally bonded over providing her with the most memorable birthday gift of her adult life!

Later that night, Arlene eagerly thanked Harold in ways he’d never experienced before.  In the 22 years that they’d been married, never had she performed such acts, let alone with such determination.  And it was all thanks to Billy.  Billy’s perfect gift had unleashed a side of Arlene that Harold had never seen before and he was less than grateful for it.  ”Fuck Billy!” Harold thought out loud.  Luckily, Arlene was in the middle of a fog-horn like moan and failed to hear how her husband truly felt about her best friend.  In the 22 years that they’d been married, never had Harold faked an orgasm to end a session of love-making but that night was a night of firsts for the couple.  All thanks to Billy.

Two years later, Harold found himself debating between two gifts; both abstract, which was always a sure sign Arlene would enjoy them.  “They’re both perfectly fine gifts, but which one is the PERFECT gift?” wondered Harold.  On the one hand, he could name a star after his wife.  He’d heard of such gifts before and had always found them quite cliché but considering how much Arlene loved the “Thriller” flash mob, he thought this might just be up her alley.  It infuriated him to realize this of his wife.  "Why not just hire a lumberjack to chop down a tree for her?” mused Harold because of how much she seemed to enjoy hacky things.

On the other hand, for roughly the same price, Harold could sponsor an African child on her behalf.  This, he thought, would be the logical “perfect” gift.  It would give his wife a sense of altruism and also demonstrate to her that Harold did, in fact, have a sensitive side, contrary to what her therapist had told her.

Time was running out and Harold knew he had to decide soon before his lunch break was over.  Each gift had its own pros and cons.  The star would last their lifetime; the child...well, the child would last longer with their support.  Both came with certificates that could easily be framed and shown off to friends & family.  The conspiracy theorist in Harold led him to wonder if the Star Registry was scamming folks by selling the naming rights of the same star to different people which soured him on the idea.  There’d be no way of telling.  But then he realized, the child sponsor programs could be running the same scam by selling the sponsor rights of a child to multiple folks.  He decided not to count this possibility against either gift.  With a star, Harold could choose the size, color, & location whereas the child seemed to be less “customizable”.  As Harold began to feel the onset of a stress-induced ulcer forming from contemplating the gifts, he suddenly had an epiphany and began to chuckle to himself.  “What a first world problem to have!” he thought.  “Deciding between naming a star and sponsoring a 3rd world child!”  Harold settled on sponsoring the child because he felt that if Arlene didn’t like the gift, at the very least, the child would.  “Hell,” he thought, “if I ask nice enough, I might be able to get them to rename the kid after Arlene.  It’d be just like the star except she can write letters to it.”  He opted out of the brother-sister package thinking that to be another “scam” and just sponsored the young girl.  “It would be easier to rename her,” he thought.  Feeling proud of himself, Harold made his way back to the office to wrap up his work for the day.  He couldn’t wait to go home where he was sure he would finally unleash Arlene’s randy side without the help of Billy.  “Just go by ‘Bill’!”

Harold had succeeded.  “I love it!” exclaimed Arlene.  He had found his wife the perfect gift.  “This is so thoughtful and selfless!”  Harold knew he was in for quite the night, and this time he wouldn’t have to suppress his rage.  He would simply lay back and be fully present in the moment as his wife fully expressed her gratitude.  “I can’t believe you and Billy were able to sponsor siblings!” he heard shortly before blacking out.