My friend George (one of the many George's I know) lives in a high rise building in downtown Chicago. Once, Eric and I went down there to see him, and we walked into a hobo fight. When I say walked into a hobo fight, I mean we walked into a Homeless Battle Royal.
There aren't that many homeless people on the streets of Chicago, say one every block in the main loop of downtown, and that's it. So, the fact that we walked into a group of 20 or so battling it out was pretty amazing in itself.
What were they battling over? One hobo wanted another hobo's pants. How this would somehow involve the 18 other men in the fight - I don't want to know and we didn't stay long enough to ask. We apparently had not been drinking yet that night and therefore still had two brain cells left to rub together and therefore got out of there fast. Or at least Eric wasn't - he knows as well as I do that when I drink I put on my Mischief Hat and then go balls-deep into the nearest Clusterfuck I can find.
Plus Eric knows that I don't want to see a homesless person without pants on EVER AGAIN.
Eric and I were a little freaked out, but George wasn't phased. He said the hobo fights should be part of the advertisement for when a house goes up for sale "Don't want cable? No worries, just peer out your window to the street below and watch hobos go nucken futz over the strangest shit! This luxury is included in the selling price!"
And to think - we were sucked into the suburbs by the Realtor telling us that it was a safe neighborhood with an urban feel - what fools we were! Especially tonight, since nothing seems to be worth watching on cable.
...I wonder if George is up for company.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Conversations
Gina: Remember that Santa Claus I hit on in Macy's last year?
Me: Yes, but you're from Chicago, so I am going to titty twister you until you say what you just said correctly!
Gina: FINE. Remember that Santa Claus I hit on in Marshall Fields last year?
Me: Yes...why?
Gina: Because apparently he also remembers me. And he now works in my office.
Backstory: Gina and I went shopping last year and I was like 'Let's go see Santa!' -because, well, it's SANTA. So we go and sit on Santa's lap and get our pictures taken. We had a couple of drinks beforehand, so the elves kept treating us like we were mentally retarded, which is another blog post in itself. Anyway, we get up to see Santa, and Gina starts talking about how all she wants for Christmas is a big old candy cane from Santa, and then proceeds - in perverted detail - to say what she would do with said candy cane. For the record, I asked for a Playstation 3 and that maybe the boots that I really want could go on sale for once. We then got our picture taken with a very flustered Santa, and went on our merry way.
Gina: So yeah, he works in my office now. Thankfully not in my department. He very much remembers me, and apparently does not like me.
Me: Karma has your name on the top of her list. You KNOW he is getting you for his Secret Santa this year. YOU KNOW IT.
Gina: I hope I get him! I'll go to Loews and buy him one of those lawn ornament candy canes. Maybe I can fluster him enough he'll quit this job too.
Me: It's going to be a such a shock to him that you were sent to sensitivity training. I hope you enjoy hell.
Gina: Screw that! You know I am getting into heaven! Those pearly gates have brass bars on them - Jesus is going to need someone to shine them - and no one can shine a pole better than me!
Me: LMAO. I sincerely hope you are right. THAT would be my kind of heaven!
Gina: No, you're kind of heaven is where your stupid hooker boots are always on sale. And your mop-bucket water never gets dirty, and everyone goes out to eat at an Applebees every night.
Me: I...I have never heard someone describe my heaven so perfectly.
Gina: What do you think my heaven will be like?
Me: Remember when Homer Simpson had that fantasy where he was in the land of chocolate and everything was made of chocolate, including the street lights?
Gina: Yeah?
Me: You're will be like that, only with tons of phallus.
Gina: Now you're just being a dick.
Me: AND YOU'RE NOT EVEN IN HEAVEN YET!
Me: Yes, but you're from Chicago, so I am going to titty twister you until you say what you just said correctly!
Gina: FINE. Remember that Santa Claus I hit on in Marshall Fields last year?
Me: Yes...why?
Gina: Because apparently he also remembers me. And he now works in my office.
Backstory: Gina and I went shopping last year and I was like 'Let's go see Santa!' -because, well, it's SANTA. So we go and sit on Santa's lap and get our pictures taken. We had a couple of drinks beforehand, so the elves kept treating us like we were mentally retarded, which is another blog post in itself. Anyway, we get up to see Santa, and Gina starts talking about how all she wants for Christmas is a big old candy cane from Santa, and then proceeds - in perverted detail - to say what she would do with said candy cane. For the record, I asked for a Playstation 3 and that maybe the boots that I really want could go on sale for once. We then got our picture taken with a very flustered Santa, and went on our merry way.
Gina: So yeah, he works in my office now. Thankfully not in my department. He very much remembers me, and apparently does not like me.
Me: Karma has your name on the top of her list. You KNOW he is getting you for his Secret Santa this year. YOU KNOW IT.
Gina: I hope I get him! I'll go to Loews and buy him one of those lawn ornament candy canes. Maybe I can fluster him enough he'll quit this job too.
Me: It's going to be a such a shock to him that you were sent to sensitivity training. I hope you enjoy hell.
Gina: Screw that! You know I am getting into heaven! Those pearly gates have brass bars on them - Jesus is going to need someone to shine them - and no one can shine a pole better than me!
Me: LMAO. I sincerely hope you are right. THAT would be my kind of heaven!
Gina: No, you're kind of heaven is where your stupid hooker boots are always on sale. And your mop-bucket water never gets dirty, and everyone goes out to eat at an Applebees every night.
Me: I...I have never heard someone describe my heaven so perfectly.
Gina: What do you think my heaven will be like?
Me: Remember when Homer Simpson had that fantasy where he was in the land of chocolate and everything was made of chocolate, including the street lights?
Gina: Yeah?
Me: You're will be like that, only with tons of phallus.
Gina: Now you're just being a dick.
Me: AND YOU'RE NOT EVEN IN HEAVEN YET!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Spoiler Alert!
I know I said I was taking a week off...but what can I say, I just can't quit you!
Remember when I said I went to a Bridal Shower the other day? I forgot to tell you the best part of the shower - a story from my grandmother.
Someone mentioned something about someone dying, but they lived a full life, they had kids, etc.
I disagree with that whole idea that you have to have children to have a full life. I am not saying I do not want children, quite the contrary, but I think, so far, you could say I have lived a full and exciting life up until this point. Plus, I have a neice and nephew I can spoil rotten anytime I like (oh yes, here's an obligatory picture:)
[caption id="attachment_1060" align="aligncenter" width="468" caption="Baby Peas is happy she is going to be a brunette just like Auntie Enna"]
[/caption]
Eric and my view has always been that you should only have children when they are going to be a blessing to your household. Right now they would not be a blessing. In 2 years they would not be a blessing.3 years? Maybe.
My grandmother, however, feels very differently. She wants me to have kids now now now now RIGHT NOW.
While at the Bridal Shower, my grandmother regaled me with this story:
"Your aunt Jeanne's maid-of-honor's aunt so-and-so and her husband never wanted to have kids, just like you and Eric, and one day, she went to the doctor, and she found out that she was riddled with tumors and she died."
Being the sarcastic asshole that I am, I replied "Gee grandma, that story could have used a 'spoiler alert'"
To which my grandma replies "Oh yes Enna, she was spoiled. On the inside. WITH CANCER" She says this while pointing to her crotch, which I must admit shocked me, not because the woman died of some kind of cancer of the CROTCH but because we were in a crowded room and my grandmother made hand-pointing-motions to her crotch to me in front of everyone and the room kind of fell silent, or to me at least it did. It was safe to say I hit the spiked punch pretty hard after that.
"Her husband has no one now. NO ONE. His family all died and he is all alone. You go home and tell Eric that story. I'll bet that will change his mind about kids!"
Instead I told Eric that my grandmother told me where to find an elderly sugar-daddy to be a trophy wife to, because she mentioned that he has all this money and a big ole house and no one to take care of him. And he's lonely, because he never had kids. If that doesn't spell prime sugar-daddy material I don't know what does!
Remember when I said I went to a Bridal Shower the other day? I forgot to tell you the best part of the shower - a story from my grandmother.
Someone mentioned something about someone dying, but they lived a full life, they had kids, etc.
I disagree with that whole idea that you have to have children to have a full life. I am not saying I do not want children, quite the contrary, but I think, so far, you could say I have lived a full and exciting life up until this point. Plus, I have a neice and nephew I can spoil rotten anytime I like (oh yes, here's an obligatory picture:)
[caption id="attachment_1060" align="aligncenter" width="468" caption="Baby Peas is happy she is going to be a brunette just like Auntie Enna"]
[/caption]Eric and my view has always been that you should only have children when they are going to be a blessing to your household. Right now they would not be a blessing. In 2 years they would not be a blessing.3 years? Maybe.
My grandmother, however, feels very differently. She wants me to have kids now now now now RIGHT NOW.
While at the Bridal Shower, my grandmother regaled me with this story:
"Your aunt Jeanne's maid-of-honor's aunt so-and-so and her husband never wanted to have kids, just like you and Eric, and one day, she went to the doctor, and she found out that she was riddled with tumors and she died."
Being the sarcastic asshole that I am, I replied "Gee grandma, that story could have used a 'spoiler alert'"
To which my grandma replies "Oh yes Enna, she was spoiled. On the inside. WITH CANCER" She says this while pointing to her crotch, which I must admit shocked me, not because the woman died of some kind of cancer of the CROTCH but because we were in a crowded room and my grandmother made hand-pointing-motions to her crotch to me in front of everyone and the room kind of fell silent, or to me at least it did. It was safe to say I hit the spiked punch pretty hard after that.
"Her husband has no one now. NO ONE. His family all died and he is all alone. You go home and tell Eric that story. I'll bet that will change his mind about kids!"
Instead I told Eric that my grandmother told me where to find an elderly sugar-daddy to be a trophy wife to, because she mentioned that he has all this money and a big ole house and no one to take care of him. And he's lonely, because he never had kids. If that doesn't spell prime sugar-daddy material I don't know what does!
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Taking a Break
Ok folks, I am getting acclimated to my new schedule - so I am going to take the rest of this week off of blogging.
Plus it is way too nice outside to stay indoors in front of a computer screen!
Plus it is way too nice outside to stay indoors in front of a computer screen!
Monday, June 22, 2009
Perks To My Work
Ok, I am changing around the way I update, and trying new things, so just bear with me here as I experiment.
And now, for some perks I get for working where I work:
1. 20 minute commute VIA PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION.
2. $1.75 daily cost to commute to work (vs $10 per day where I used to work)
3. I can add Eric onto my EXCELLENT health insurance. Even though we are not married. And HIS company will pay us hundreds of dollars a month to join my plan. F YES PEOPLE!
4. I can get glasses! FOR FREE! I am so so so excited about buying glasses you do not even know. I learned my lesson with contacts - I do not like them.
5. My bus driver is pretty nice. And that's a perk because it sets the tone for my whole day.
6. People keep buying me lunch. No, seriously.
7. I get home so quickly I can make dinner instead of just buying something every day like we used to (a habit that was broken when I lost my job and became so poor we couldn't afford that anymore.)
8. My first paycheck? It will be for almost a month's worth of work. I WILL BE BUYING GLASSES VERY VERY SOON. And when I say buy glasses I mean I will be getting them for free or for a nominal co-pay and then getting my prescription and going online and buying multiple pairs for much cheaper than in the stores.
9. I have an Office Depot's worth of supplies in my office. If you love supplies as much as I love supplies, then you would love my office. Ever drawer is stuffed with post-it notes and pens and legal pads and calculators. It's like heaven in drawer-form for me!
10. For the first time in almost a DECADE - I have dental insurance.
11. I can get prescriptions for almost free for the first time in almost a decade - and you know what that means, right? XANAX XANAX XANAX! Ok, not really. Ironically, now that I am employed, my stress level has gone WAAAAAAY down.
12. I know the government's database system now. Excuse me while I go learn Arabic so I can go spy on people and work for the CIA. Ok, that's not really my goal, but knowing this system means I can transfer to other government agencies more easily.
So far, that's about it. Well, that's about it without giving away too much. All-in-all, I can say I am very happy. It felt like my life was a spinning top for the last 6 months and God reached His hand down and stopped it and said "Ok Enna, that's enough, I'll face you in this direction now." And I have to say, I am really liking the direction I am facing.
PS Sorry this wasn't that funny. I am exhausted and trying to get acclimated to a new schedule.
And now, for some perks I get for working where I work:
1. 20 minute commute VIA PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION.
2. $1.75 daily cost to commute to work (vs $10 per day where I used to work)
3. I can add Eric onto my EXCELLENT health insurance. Even though we are not married. And HIS company will pay us hundreds of dollars a month to join my plan. F YES PEOPLE!
4. I can get glasses! FOR FREE! I am so so so excited about buying glasses you do not even know. I learned my lesson with contacts - I do not like them.
5. My bus driver is pretty nice. And that's a perk because it sets the tone for my whole day.
6. People keep buying me lunch. No, seriously.
7. I get home so quickly I can make dinner instead of just buying something every day like we used to (a habit that was broken when I lost my job and became so poor we couldn't afford that anymore.)
8. My first paycheck? It will be for almost a month's worth of work. I WILL BE BUYING GLASSES VERY VERY SOON. And when I say buy glasses I mean I will be getting them for free or for a nominal co-pay and then getting my prescription and going online and buying multiple pairs for much cheaper than in the stores.
9. I have an Office Depot's worth of supplies in my office. If you love supplies as much as I love supplies, then you would love my office. Ever drawer is stuffed with post-it notes and pens and legal pads and calculators. It's like heaven in drawer-form for me!
10. For the first time in almost a DECADE - I have dental insurance.
11. I can get prescriptions for almost free for the first time in almost a decade - and you know what that means, right? XANAX XANAX XANAX! Ok, not really. Ironically, now that I am employed, my stress level has gone WAAAAAAY down.
12. I know the government's database system now. Excuse me while I go learn Arabic so I can go spy on people and work for the CIA. Ok, that's not really my goal, but knowing this system means I can transfer to other government agencies more easily.
So far, that's about it. Well, that's about it without giving away too much. All-in-all, I can say I am very happy. It felt like my life was a spinning top for the last 6 months and God reached His hand down and stopped it and said "Ok Enna, that's enough, I'll face you in this direction now." And I have to say, I am really liking the direction I am facing.
PS Sorry this wasn't that funny. I am exhausted and trying to get acclimated to a new schedule.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
LOLing and 'Doing the Ebays'
One of my friends mother's, ler's just call her Gayle, is new to the world wide web. She has taken to sending email to all of us. I know this sounds sweet, and it is, but it's also quite annoying, as she has discovered the forward button, which pretty much explains why I have abandoned my Yahoo email address all together.
The other day, I got this email from her:
I sat at the computer, rereading the email and pondering WHAT THE HELL?! Why is this woman mocking me via the internet? She was always so sweet in person and on the phone...why this sudden change into cruelty?
So, I call my friend and ask what the heck is up with her mother...
"She thinks LOL means lots of love. She's not trying to be a dick, I swear." My friend explains.
"Also," my friend goes on "you'll be happy to know that I set her computer settings to a child protected setting. The computer thinks she is 12 years old. Strangely, the computer also thinks that it's ok to let her shop on ebay."
I inquire as to what her mother has bought, and she replies "She sent me roughly 40 pairs of underwear. USED UNDERWEAR. I tried to explain to her that anytime someone says something is 'like new' and it only costs 4 dollars, YOU SHOULD NOT BUY IT. Plus they are so large they could cover a small elephant. And there are...stains on them. But now I have something to cover my furniture the next time I paint a room, so I guess I lucked out."
LOL indeed!
The other day, I got this email from her:
Dear Enna,
I hear about how your friend B watched his dog get run over and die in the street. That is so sad. Tell B I said LOL.
Write Back! Gayle
PS Have you found a job yet? LOLOLOL!
I sat at the computer, rereading the email and pondering WHAT THE HELL?! Why is this woman mocking me via the internet? She was always so sweet in person and on the phone...why this sudden change into cruelty?
So, I call my friend and ask what the heck is up with her mother...
"She thinks LOL means lots of love. She's not trying to be a dick, I swear." My friend explains.
"Also," my friend goes on "you'll be happy to know that I set her computer settings to a child protected setting. The computer thinks she is 12 years old. Strangely, the computer also thinks that it's ok to let her shop on ebay."
I inquire as to what her mother has bought, and she replies "She sent me roughly 40 pairs of underwear. USED UNDERWEAR. I tried to explain to her that anytime someone says something is 'like new' and it only costs 4 dollars, YOU SHOULD NOT BUY IT. Plus they are so large they could cover a small elephant. And there are...stains on them. But now I have something to cover my furniture the next time I paint a room, so I guess I lucked out."
LOL indeed!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Everything is Possible!
I got a job. I got a job. I got a job.
I have not been more relaxed and weightless in my whole life! MY WHOLE LIFE. I work for ...the government. So...don't expect any work stories, because it would be bad enough to get fired for blogging about my work, but then to get...you know...PROSECUTED TO THE FULLEST EXTENT OF FEDERAL LAW? That scares me a bit. Expect me to blog about work, actually, but I won't ever say thinks like "My coworker did this the other day..." I will instead say "My friend Gina did this the other day..." which is pretty much what I do now.
This will be me in 3 months:
see more Lolcats and funny pictures
Now excuse me, I need to make this house SPOTLESS and clean everything and do every bit of laundry (thanks for the quarters dad!) before I start work tomorrow. Plus I need to pack and awesome lunch, so I need supplies. Because I am awesome like that!
Thanks for the support guys! I appreciate it!
I got a job!
I have not been more relaxed and weightless in my whole life! MY WHOLE LIFE. I work for ...the government. So...don't expect any work stories, because it would be bad enough to get fired for blogging about my work, but then to get...you know...PROSECUTED TO THE FULLEST EXTENT OF FEDERAL LAW? That scares me a bit. Expect me to blog about work, actually, but I won't ever say thinks like "My coworker did this the other day..." I will instead say "My friend Gina did this the other day..." which is pretty much what I do now.
This will be me in 3 months:
see more Lolcats and funny pictures
Now excuse me, I need to make this house SPOTLESS and clean everything and do every bit of laundry (thanks for the quarters dad!) before I start work tomorrow. Plus I need to pack and awesome lunch, so I need supplies. Because I am awesome like that!
Thanks for the support guys! I appreciate it!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Job Interview
I got job interviews up the whazooie this week so posting with be sporadic. Instead, enjoy this comic:
Sunday, June 14, 2009
What Makes Us Men
Over the weekend, someone mentioned that under no uncertain circumstances will there be games at my wedding shower. Why? Because no one knows anything about Eric or my relationship - so how could we do those little quiz games? So, without further ado, here is a multimedia presentation all about Eric and my relationship, for your amusement (PS please be nice in the comments, this is the most open I have been about my relationship...ever.)
My Middle Name: Therese (with the ridiculous H in there and everything.)
His Middle Name: Miles (like Miles Davis)
Where we met: Beverly park, around the summer of 1997
Where we met again, because I didn't recognize him since he grew his hair out: My Garage, 1999 (I reintroduced myself like an asshole.)
Our Anniversary: Thanksgiving (we often nudge each other the day before and say things like "How about I take you out for a nice dinner tomorrow to celebrate our anniversary?" Knowing full well we will be at some family member's house the next day. Also - I realize that Thanksgiving changes every year, but we still celebrate that day instead of the actual date. We're weird like that.)
What he got me for my birthday the first year we were dating: Diamond Earrings and a Diamond Necklace
What I got him for his birthday the first year we were dating: A video game he wanted and a custom made deck of cards. (He wins on getting better gifts, I will totally admit defeat every year.)
When we got engaged: July 3rd, 2008, though we celebrate July 4th instead, to keep with our anniversaries coinciding with holidays.
Where we first said I love you to each other: 106th and Wood, after a party.
Our Song:
(Ignore the video - it has nothing to do with the reason we chose that song.)
The song that reminds me of him:
The song that reminds him of me:
The song that reminds one of my best friends of us:
I love him despite his penchant for voting republican, and he loves me despite my penchant for being a giant flaming liberal hippy. We both agree gay marriage/adoption should be legal, we both agree adoption is in our future, we both agree we would run away to Vegas and get married if it wouldn't piss off both our families. He is the only person I would wear heels for, and I am the only person he went back to school for (he hated where I used to work, and vowed that he would finish school so I would never have to work at that place again.) He loves Sci-Fi and Fantasy novels, I love non-fiction and fiction, and we both are addicted to Wikipedia. He remembers to ask his family if there is eggs in any of the dishes being served for me, and I stop drinking early so he can have another beer when we are out. We both hate the Cube and Saw movies, and we both love James Bond. I put up with his football obsession and he puts up with my soccer obsession ("Oh COME ON ENNA, this isn't even being broadcast in ENGLISH!") He is Catholic, and I am Methodist, and he doesn't care if I convert back or not, and I wouldn''t care if he was an atheist. We both love Mille Bourne, he loves Chess and Monopoly and I hate both those games, so he never forces me to play them, so we play a lot of Scrabble. We both love the Medea movies (and Tyler Perry) even though we are both white, and we both want to own our own businesses. He thinks I should go back to school and become a doctor, and I think he is FLAT OUT CRAZY for thinking that. He thinks I am smarter than him, and I KNOW he is smarter than me.
Anything else you guys wants to know? Short of our social security numbers I will answer.
Well, not HIS social security number, I doubt there is any more damage you can do to mine that I haven't already done.
My Middle Name: Therese (with the ridiculous H in there and everything.)
His Middle Name: Miles (like Miles Davis)
Where we met: Beverly park, around the summer of 1997
Where we met again, because I didn't recognize him since he grew his hair out: My Garage, 1999 (I reintroduced myself like an asshole.)
Our Anniversary: Thanksgiving (we often nudge each other the day before and say things like "How about I take you out for a nice dinner tomorrow to celebrate our anniversary?" Knowing full well we will be at some family member's house the next day. Also - I realize that Thanksgiving changes every year, but we still celebrate that day instead of the actual date. We're weird like that.)
What he got me for my birthday the first year we were dating: Diamond Earrings and a Diamond Necklace
What I got him for his birthday the first year we were dating: A video game he wanted and a custom made deck of cards. (He wins on getting better gifts, I will totally admit defeat every year.)
When we got engaged: July 3rd, 2008, though we celebrate July 4th instead, to keep with our anniversaries coinciding with holidays.
Where we first said I love you to each other: 106th and Wood, after a party.
Our Song:
(Ignore the video - it has nothing to do with the reason we chose that song.)
The song that reminds me of him:
The song that reminds him of me:
The song that reminds one of my best friends of us:
I love him despite his penchant for voting republican, and he loves me despite my penchant for being a giant flaming liberal hippy. We both agree gay marriage/adoption should be legal, we both agree adoption is in our future, we both agree we would run away to Vegas and get married if it wouldn't piss off both our families. He is the only person I would wear heels for, and I am the only person he went back to school for (he hated where I used to work, and vowed that he would finish school so I would never have to work at that place again.) He loves Sci-Fi and Fantasy novels, I love non-fiction and fiction, and we both are addicted to Wikipedia. He remembers to ask his family if there is eggs in any of the dishes being served for me, and I stop drinking early so he can have another beer when we are out. We both hate the Cube and Saw movies, and we both love James Bond. I put up with his football obsession and he puts up with my soccer obsession ("Oh COME ON ENNA, this isn't even being broadcast in ENGLISH!") He is Catholic, and I am Methodist, and he doesn't care if I convert back or not, and I wouldn''t care if he was an atheist. We both love Mille Bourne, he loves Chess and Monopoly and I hate both those games, so he never forces me to play them, so we play a lot of Scrabble. We both love the Medea movies (and Tyler Perry) even though we are both white, and we both want to own our own businesses. He thinks I should go back to school and become a doctor, and I think he is FLAT OUT CRAZY for thinking that. He thinks I am smarter than him, and I KNOW he is smarter than me.
Anything else you guys wants to know? Short of our social security numbers I will answer.
Well, not HIS social security number, I doubt there is any more damage you can do to mine that I haven't already done.
Happy Birthday Mom!
This is for you:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
EDIT: Ok, so apparently I have to explain why the heck this is funny. Well, other than the whole WTF-Factor of the Video itself. My mother, every time she hears the song You Are So Beautiful To Me, cries. My friends and I used to stand outside her window on her birthday and sing it to her. So, I looked for a video of the song, came upon this gem, and thought to myself OH HECK YES.
I am not suggesting that my mother needs a facelift. If anything, people are always surprised at how young she looks for her age (not that she's 70 or anything, I am just sayin')
So that is the backstory to the creepiest video I have seen in a long time, as well as why it is associated with my mother.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
EDIT: Ok, so apparently I have to explain why the heck this is funny. Well, other than the whole WTF-Factor of the Video itself. My mother, every time she hears the song You Are So Beautiful To Me, cries. My friends and I used to stand outside her window on her birthday and sing it to her. So, I looked for a video of the song, came upon this gem, and thought to myself OH HECK YES.
I am not suggesting that my mother needs a facelift. If anything, people are always surprised at how young she looks for her age (not that she's 70 or anything, I am just sayin')
So that is the backstory to the creepiest video I have seen in a long time, as well as why it is associated with my mother.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Conversations
Since I sustained a pretty devastating blow yesterday (not physically, keep those abused woman brochures to yourself, thank you) I am just going to post conversation snippets I have had recently.
Eric walks in the door after work to find me on the floor sleeping: "So, stressful day?"
Me: "Nope, just day-drinkin' again. The bubbles were going out of this champagne."
Eric: Glad to see you still have priorities. Good game kid.
_________________________________
Me: Your mom called today
Eric (obviously not paying any attention) Oh that's nice.
Me: She wanted to borrow my white plastic hooker boots.
Eric (obviously still not paying attention) Well I am glad you had a nice talk.
Me: I am pregnant.
Eric (whipping around) THAT'S NOT FUNNY TELL ME YOU ARE JOKING.
Me: I'm joking - but now you're paying attention aren't ya?
Eric: No, now I am having a heart attack.
__________________________________
Friend: ...so I found porn in his computer desk.
Me: Dude, this is so vanilla, I have seen American Apparel ads more racy than this. *googles the American Apparel ad where it looks like the girl is having sex - YOU KNOW THE ONE* Here, look at this.
Friend: WOAH I'll bet her mother is proud of her!
Me: Can I make origami cranes out of this porn? I will try to make the vagina's the beak. We can leave them around the house! For luck, of course!
Friend: Where do you come up with this shit?!
____________________________________
Older Sister: So I came by your house, but I forgot my cell, and I know your buzzer doesn't work, so I just kind of stood around the back lot trying to grab your attention. Then this old guy came up to me, and he was this super close talker, but he kept staring at my chest. It was the creepiest thing ever.
Me: It's because you're still breastfeeding so your ta-ta's are large and an awe inspiring masterpiece and a credit to God Himself.
Older Sister: I stand corrected. THAT WAS THE CREEPIEST THING EVER.
Me: Don't be so uptight. It was a joke!
Older Sister: ...are you Day Drunk?
Me: YOU KNOW IT! This champagne is going bad..the bubbles...
Older Sister: It's 11 a.m.!
Me: It was ...going bad quickly?
Older Sister: Sweet Jesus you need a job.
_________________________________
Eric: If you keep posting about day drinking on your blog people will think you're an alcoholic.
Me: Well then, at least I will have accomplished something in 2009!
Eric walks in the door after work to find me on the floor sleeping: "So, stressful day?"
Me: "Nope, just day-drinkin' again. The bubbles were going out of this champagne."
Eric: Glad to see you still have priorities. Good game kid.
_________________________________
Me: Your mom called today
Eric (obviously not paying any attention) Oh that's nice.
Me: She wanted to borrow my white plastic hooker boots.
Eric (obviously still not paying attention) Well I am glad you had a nice talk.
Me: I am pregnant.
Eric (whipping around) THAT'S NOT FUNNY TELL ME YOU ARE JOKING.
Me: I'm joking - but now you're paying attention aren't ya?
Eric: No, now I am having a heart attack.
__________________________________
Friend: ...so I found porn in his computer desk.
Me: Dude, this is so vanilla, I have seen American Apparel ads more racy than this. *googles the American Apparel ad where it looks like the girl is having sex - YOU KNOW THE ONE* Here, look at this.
Friend: WOAH I'll bet her mother is proud of her!
Me: Can I make origami cranes out of this porn? I will try to make the vagina's the beak. We can leave them around the house! For luck, of course!
Friend: Where do you come up with this shit?!
____________________________________
Older Sister: So I came by your house, but I forgot my cell, and I know your buzzer doesn't work, so I just kind of stood around the back lot trying to grab your attention. Then this old guy came up to me, and he was this super close talker, but he kept staring at my chest. It was the creepiest thing ever.
Me: It's because you're still breastfeeding so your ta-ta's are large and an awe inspiring masterpiece and a credit to God Himself.
Older Sister: I stand corrected. THAT WAS THE CREEPIEST THING EVER.
Me: Don't be so uptight. It was a joke!
Older Sister: ...are you Day Drunk?
Me: YOU KNOW IT! This champagne is going bad..the bubbles...
Older Sister: It's 11 a.m.!
Me: It was ...going bad quickly?
Older Sister: Sweet Jesus you need a job.
_________________________________
Eric: If you keep posting about day drinking on your blog people will think you're an alcoholic.
Me: Well then, at least I will have accomplished something in 2009!
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Crying Like Supergirl
Who has two thumbs and four new Goodyear tires? THIS GIRL.
We blew a tire yesterday, and seeing as the government has yet to identify me as a national treasure and pay be handsomely for being such, I am still very much broke.
So, I took the car to a tire center right by our house, and asked if they had any used tires, or how much it would cost to replace one tire. The guy looked at the tires on my car, and told me he has NO IDEA how the car is not sitting on 4 flats instead of one. For those of you wondering if the guy was trying to scam me, he wasn't. My tires were more bald than Mr. Clean.
He then gave me a quote for their cheapest tires, and I ...well, I started crying. I said I had no job and almost no money and CRAP what the hell why are tires so expensive.
Then, Mr-Tire-Man-Who-Should-Be-A-Saint offered me the greatest deal under the sun: $25, for all four. I got coupon on top of discount on top of coupon. The guy essentially gave me four free tires and just charged me for the install. I was so happy...I cried again.
He told me things would get better, and to focus on the positive, that he knows I will get a job really soon, and when I do, to remember to come back to his store when I need tires again. And I was like "I will sir" but in my head all I could think was "THANK YOU FOR THE FREE TIRES! HOW ABOUT I FOCUS ON THAT! FREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Then he went about putting new tires on my car, and I went about waiting in the waiting room chatting with my friend Ann. Then, I get off the phone and notice my reflection in the store window:
In my haste to change the tire, I just threw on anything. "Anything" consisted of a white t-shirt and a Superman bra. The Superman bra is bright blue and has the red Superman symbol where the nipples would be. And guess what? While I was changing the tire? It was raining something fierce. My super white t-shirt was now super see-through. I didn't realize it at the time, but I might have gotten this super deal because I accidentally flashed my Super Goodies at Mr. Tire Man.
It could have been worse, I could have been wearing NO BRA, and mercy would that have been a sight. But then again, maybe I would have gotten a free CAR.
Now excuse me, I have to go focus on the positive, while doing donuts in my condo's parking lot.
We blew a tire yesterday, and seeing as the government has yet to identify me as a national treasure and pay be handsomely for being such, I am still very much broke.
So, I took the car to a tire center right by our house, and asked if they had any used tires, or how much it would cost to replace one tire. The guy looked at the tires on my car, and told me he has NO IDEA how the car is not sitting on 4 flats instead of one. For those of you wondering if the guy was trying to scam me, he wasn't. My tires were more bald than Mr. Clean.
He then gave me a quote for their cheapest tires, and I ...well, I started crying. I said I had no job and almost no money and CRAP what the hell why are tires so expensive.
Then, Mr-Tire-Man-Who-Should-Be-A-Saint offered me the greatest deal under the sun: $25, for all four. I got coupon on top of discount on top of coupon. The guy essentially gave me four free tires and just charged me for the install. I was so happy...I cried again.
He told me things would get better, and to focus on the positive, that he knows I will get a job really soon, and when I do, to remember to come back to his store when I need tires again. And I was like "I will sir" but in my head all I could think was "THANK YOU FOR THE FREE TIRES! HOW ABOUT I FOCUS ON THAT! FREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Then he went about putting new tires on my car, and I went about waiting in the waiting room chatting with my friend Ann. Then, I get off the phone and notice my reflection in the store window:
In my haste to change the tire, I just threw on anything. "Anything" consisted of a white t-shirt and a Superman bra. The Superman bra is bright blue and has the red Superman symbol where the nipples would be. And guess what? While I was changing the tire? It was raining something fierce. My super white t-shirt was now super see-through. I didn't realize it at the time, but I might have gotten this super deal because I accidentally flashed my Super Goodies at Mr. Tire Man.
It could have been worse, I could have been wearing NO BRA, and mercy would that have been a sight. But then again, maybe I would have gotten a free CAR.
Now excuse me, I have to go focus on the positive, while doing donuts in my condo's parking lot.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Full Frontal Before 10 A.M.
For those of you who do not follow my Twitter (shame on you!) I posted this delightful tweet yesterday while on my way to a job interview:
I was on my way to a job interview, and I decided to stop at a public bathroom in downtown Chicago so I could splash my face with cool water and make sure I wasn't a hot sweaty ghetto mess.
First though, I go to the bathroom, seeing as no one else is in the bathroom, and I have it all to myself. I finish up, and I hear someone come in and run the water. I exit the stall and come around the corner and see what only can be described as a homeless bag lady with no pants or underwear on furiouslywashing her va-jay-jay, to quote Oprah.
Do you ride public transportation? I do. Every so often someone on the public trans system finds an unattended box or gym bag. Every time this happens, it is treated as a bomb threat, and everyone on the train needs to be evacuated as quickly as possible. The train conductor announces that an unidentified package has been found and the bomb squad has been called and please exit the train as quickly and calmly as possible. There's this moment of silence, and then all hell breaks loose. People are pushing and shoving their way out of the train as quickly as possible.
This is what happened to me in the bathroom, I turned the corner, processed what I was seeing, and then internally - all hell broke loose. I RAN out the door.
And, for the record, the woman had pubic hair from her thighs all the way to her belly button, and it was all soapy. It look like she was wrestling Don King with her thighs in the middle of a Car Wash.
By the time I got to the job interview, I was a hot sweaty FREAKED OUT ghetto mess. But on the plus side, I remembered to wear deodorant, and I will take any little victory where I can find it.
I was on my way to a job interview, and I decided to stop at a public bathroom in downtown Chicago so I could splash my face with cool water and make sure I wasn't a hot sweaty ghetto mess.
First though, I go to the bathroom, seeing as no one else is in the bathroom, and I have it all to myself. I finish up, and I hear someone come in and run the water. I exit the stall and come around the corner and see what only can be described as a homeless bag lady with no pants or underwear on furiouslywashing her va-jay-jay, to quote Oprah.
Do you ride public transportation? I do. Every so often someone on the public trans system finds an unattended box or gym bag. Every time this happens, it is treated as a bomb threat, and everyone on the train needs to be evacuated as quickly as possible. The train conductor announces that an unidentified package has been found and the bomb squad has been called and please exit the train as quickly and calmly as possible. There's this moment of silence, and then all hell breaks loose. People are pushing and shoving their way out of the train as quickly as possible.
This is what happened to me in the bathroom, I turned the corner, processed what I was seeing, and then internally - all hell broke loose. I RAN out the door.
And, for the record, the woman had pubic hair from her thighs all the way to her belly button, and it was all soapy. It look like she was wrestling Don King with her thighs in the middle of a Car Wash.
By the time I got to the job interview, I was a hot sweaty FREAKED OUT ghetto mess. But on the plus side, I remembered to wear deodorant, and I will take any little victory where I can find it.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
A Blog Post In Which I Write About My Bowels
Recently, I went to a Bridal Shower (not my own, in the event you are wondering) and it was pretty darned awesome.
I enjoyed myself for the most part - except I had to go to the bathroom the whole time. I just kept trying, but people kept coming into the bathroom. Yes, I am one of those freaks that has a shy bladder.
Unless, of course, I am drunk, it's the middle of the night, and I happen to be near a 7/11 or Burger King dumpster. Then apparently I am all Free Willy with my urine.
I once balanced myself by putting my hand on the bumper of my friend's car, dropped my pants, and peed away. Then I stand up and realize there is a cop in a squad car laughing his ass off at me. Really, I should have gone to jail for public intoxication and indecency, but instead, I am sure there is dashboard video of my ass somewhere on Youtube or God forbid Xtube. Not that I so much mind if it is on Youtube, because my name is not associated with it, but if it's on Xtube I would at least like a royalty check for that. I mean, if I am starring in homegrown porno, I should at the very minimum be making money off of it.
The gist is, I am the type of lady who needs her own bathroom, and I am also the type of lady who was ready to bash some heads in of women who just came into the bathroom to chat and do their makeup while I tried to get some privacy and do my thang. Bitches.
I enjoyed myself for the most part - except I had to go to the bathroom the whole time. I just kept trying, but people kept coming into the bathroom. Yes, I am one of those freaks that has a shy bladder.
Unless, of course, I am drunk, it's the middle of the night, and I happen to be near a 7/11 or Burger King dumpster. Then apparently I am all Free Willy with my urine.
I once balanced myself by putting my hand on the bumper of my friend's car, dropped my pants, and peed away. Then I stand up and realize there is a cop in a squad car laughing his ass off at me. Really, I should have gone to jail for public intoxication and indecency, but instead, I am sure there is dashboard video of my ass somewhere on Youtube or God forbid Xtube. Not that I so much mind if it is on Youtube, because my name is not associated with it, but if it's on Xtube I would at least like a royalty check for that. I mean, if I am starring in homegrown porno, I should at the very minimum be making money off of it.
The gist is, I am the type of lady who needs her own bathroom, and I am also the type of lady who was ready to bash some heads in of women who just came into the bathroom to chat and do their makeup while I tried to get some privacy and do my thang. Bitches.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Worst Interview Ever
Ok, so I went on a job interview the other day, and it didn't exactly go as well as it could have. It was one of those days where I should have just stayed home.
The first indication that it was going to be a bad day was, while walking to the train, I knocked over a man on these weird moon-bounce stilts. I know. How weird is that. I was like DUDE what are you doing on stilts in the middle of the day in the parking lot of a train station?! He was like Oh sorry about that...and then gets up and wanders off. HE DIDN'T ANSWER MY QUESTION. If I had more time, I would have run him down and asked him again.
Instead, I get on the train, and head on my way to my job interview. Half way there, I start to feel sick to my stomach, and I realize I am not quite over the bug I have been fighting for the past week. Then, about 40 girl scouts get on the trains with their den mothers (or whatever they are called.)
I sent a text out to some people I know, saying "Agreeing to go on this interview was a bad idea, something tells me these girl scouts are about to get their Cleaning Up A Stranger's Vomit badge."
To which my friend George replied, "Think of the blog fodder!" And he was right - I mean, that would have been a great story in itself, but alas, I did not vomit.
While on the train, still deciding whether or not to vomit, someone sits down next to me and says "Here, you look like you need this" and hands me a small booklet and then gets up and walks away.
It's a religious track. A SCIENTOLOGY religious tracks. I am like WTF?! No, I am sorry, I do not have time to think about the saving power of Xenu. I read the thing, and mercy, that was weird. I will not even go into what it said, but I do plan on scanning it in the near future, because this craziness needs to be shared with the internet!
So, I make my way over to the place I am interviewing, and tell the receptionist who I am there to see, and sit down and make sure my suit is on straight and all that.
Then, the woman I am there to see comes out, and I stand up to shake her hand, and trip over my briefcase and fall over a chair - Dick VanDyke style. The woman I am interviewing is completely shocked, and I stand up and say "Well, now that we've gotten the Me Making An Ass Out Of Myself portion of the interview over with, let's talk about my resume shall we." Then the woman interviewing me - she starts laughing her ass off. Like, falling over holding her stomach laughing.
See, if the point of a job interview were to maker the interviewer laugh until she tinkled a little, then consider me hired! But sadly, that wasn't the point.
And for those of you wondering, I DO have normal interviews, but that doesn't make for very good blogging. So sadly, to you all, my dear readers, it looks like I am a bumbling idiot who will never be employed.
Seriously though that Scientology track was really weird though.
The first indication that it was going to be a bad day was, while walking to the train, I knocked over a man on these weird moon-bounce stilts. I know. How weird is that. I was like DUDE what are you doing on stilts in the middle of the day in the parking lot of a train station?! He was like Oh sorry about that...and then gets up and wanders off. HE DIDN'T ANSWER MY QUESTION. If I had more time, I would have run him down and asked him again.
Instead, I get on the train, and head on my way to my job interview. Half way there, I start to feel sick to my stomach, and I realize I am not quite over the bug I have been fighting for the past week. Then, about 40 girl scouts get on the trains with their den mothers (or whatever they are called.)
I sent a text out to some people I know, saying "Agreeing to go on this interview was a bad idea, something tells me these girl scouts are about to get their Cleaning Up A Stranger's Vomit badge."
To which my friend George replied, "Think of the blog fodder!" And he was right - I mean, that would have been a great story in itself, but alas, I did not vomit.
While on the train, still deciding whether or not to vomit, someone sits down next to me and says "Here, you look like you need this" and hands me a small booklet and then gets up and walks away.
It's a religious track. A SCIENTOLOGY religious tracks. I am like WTF?! No, I am sorry, I do not have time to think about the saving power of Xenu. I read the thing, and mercy, that was weird. I will not even go into what it said, but I do plan on scanning it in the near future, because this craziness needs to be shared with the internet!
So, I make my way over to the place I am interviewing, and tell the receptionist who I am there to see, and sit down and make sure my suit is on straight and all that.
Then, the woman I am there to see comes out, and I stand up to shake her hand, and trip over my briefcase and fall over a chair - Dick VanDyke style. The woman I am interviewing is completely shocked, and I stand up and say "Well, now that we've gotten the Me Making An Ass Out Of Myself portion of the interview over with, let's talk about my resume shall we." Then the woman interviewing me - she starts laughing her ass off. Like, falling over holding her stomach laughing.
See, if the point of a job interview were to maker the interviewer laugh until she tinkled a little, then consider me hired! But sadly, that wasn't the point.
And for those of you wondering, I DO have normal interviews, but that doesn't make for very good blogging. So sadly, to you all, my dear readers, it looks like I am a bumbling idiot who will never be employed.
Seriously though that Scientology track was really weird though.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Whatever, Eric
(First, I wanted to say thanks to everyone yesterday for leaving such awesome comments, and no, I do not plan to stop writing this blog. I reread what I wrote and it came off all whiny and needy and that wasn't my intention. Plus, as Stephanie put it - blogging is cheaper than therapy.)
Eric and my favorite show of all time is...
Whatever, Martha.
I know, it's totally weird. You would expect someone like ME to really like Whatever, Martha - but Eric is a bit of a surprise, even for me.
For those of you who do not know, Whatever, Martha is a show where Martha Stewart's daughter Alexis and her best friend Jennifer makes fun of Martha Stewart's projects and crafts. It is seriously the greatest snarkiest show on TV. Every time this show comes on, we pretty much stop what we're doing and just STARE.
Last night, we were watching TV, and during the commercials, when we come back to life from being zombified by watching Alexis skewer her mother, we discussed WHY ON EARTH we like this show so much:
Me: There's just something about Alexis, I do not know what it is...
Eric: She's just like her mother, only funny, and scary smart...and less...
Me: Matronly?
Eric: Yeah! Exactly! Plus she is so much more bangable.
Me: Wow. Bangable. I learned a new 'guy word' today.
Eric: Well then, I believe a "You're welcome" is in order *waggles eyebrows*
Then he surprised me with a bonus check he got at work and bought me Hooters Chicken wings. So I guess what I am trying to say is I had a great day yesterday - I learned a new word AND I got chicken wings. Life is good, people.
Eric and my favorite show of all time is...
Whatever, Martha.
I know, it's totally weird. You would expect someone like ME to really like Whatever, Martha - but Eric is a bit of a surprise, even for me.
For those of you who do not know, Whatever, Martha is a show where Martha Stewart's daughter Alexis and her best friend Jennifer makes fun of Martha Stewart's projects and crafts. It is seriously the greatest snarkiest show on TV. Every time this show comes on, we pretty much stop what we're doing and just STARE.
Last night, we were watching TV, and during the commercials, when we come back to life from being zombified by watching Alexis skewer her mother, we discussed WHY ON EARTH we like this show so much:
Me: There's just something about Alexis, I do not know what it is...
Eric: She's just like her mother, only funny, and scary smart...and less...
Me: Matronly?
Eric: Yeah! Exactly! Plus she is so much more bangable.
Me: Wow. Bangable. I learned a new 'guy word' today.
Eric: Well then, I believe a "You're welcome" is in order *waggles eyebrows*
Then he surprised me with a bonus check he got at work and bought me Hooters Chicken wings. So I guess what I am trying to say is I had a great day yesterday - I learned a new word AND I got chicken wings. Life is good, people.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
One Year Later
As of today, I have been blogging on this site for one year. I know, I know, applause all around.
Heather Armstrong of Dooce once said (somewhere, I cannot find it anywhere!) that every blogger encounters someone sometime who leaves them such a nasty comment at some point in their writing career that the blogger wants to quit writing after that. I have had two such comments. Well, in fairness, one was an email. Heather says that you just need to press on and keep writing and forget that there's one person out there that hates you, and thousands that you could be helping (or entertaining in my case.) This has been my motto for blogging: Just keep writing and pressing on. Actually, now that's pretty much my motto for life, all things considered.
Heather knows what she is talking about, by the way, as she gets a lot of hate mail.
So, let's just go ahead an recap what we all have learned about me in the past year:
I accidentally ate a cat once. And it was tasty. And I didn't have an allergic reaction, which was a major plus.
I learned that stories my parents told me as a child may not have been entirely truthful. I should have been suspicious when the stories included the very scientific term "assworms."
I learned that Little Debbie is a vengeful bitch who just wants to make me fat.
I learned that Amish people take public transportation, and often hilarity ensues.
I learned that when you make a comic about a pig, try to make the pig look less seductive, otherwise people think you're into bestiality.
I learned that Ericka, a girl I used to work with, has selective hearing while on the phone. And hilarity ensued.
You watched me get all girlie an overjoyed at getting engaged, and then you watched me have a very public breakdown at the death of my friend.
I learned to make my own Motivational Poster for the workplace.
I decided to change religions, and join a new church.
I peed myself in public, and as if that was humiliating enough, I decided to post about it on the internet for the whole universe to see.
I learned that Prostitutes are disgusting creatures at times.
I learned that after I sit in someone else's urine on a public trainI need to take a hepatitis test.
I learned that maybe I shouldn't have kept my mouth shut in this one instance...but for once I did.
I learned that sometimes stealing is the right thing to do.
I learned that, in general, people are freaked out that I have human remains as a house pet.
I learned that my actions sometimes freak out people in supermarkets.
Well, hasn't this year just been a learning experience and a half! Now, for the hard question: Do I keep going? Do I keep pressing on, and keeping writing? Or do I abandon this and just let it live on in Waybackmachine/Google history? I have to say, over the course of 2009, sometimes my comments were so supportive it just lifted me up more-so than I thought was possible. And so, I think I will keep pressing on, if for no other reason than I have made some great friends through this blog, and Lord knows I need all the support I can get.
Thank you to everyone who has made a comment on this blog or linked to it over the past year.
Heather Armstrong of Dooce once said (somewhere, I cannot find it anywhere!) that every blogger encounters someone sometime who leaves them such a nasty comment at some point in their writing career that the blogger wants to quit writing after that. I have had two such comments. Well, in fairness, one was an email. Heather says that you just need to press on and keep writing and forget that there's one person out there that hates you, and thousands that you could be helping (or entertaining in my case.) This has been my motto for blogging: Just keep writing and pressing on. Actually, now that's pretty much my motto for life, all things considered.
Heather knows what she is talking about, by the way, as she gets a lot of hate mail.
So, let's just go ahead an recap what we all have learned about me in the past year:
I accidentally ate a cat once. And it was tasty. And I didn't have an allergic reaction, which was a major plus.
I learned that stories my parents told me as a child may not have been entirely truthful. I should have been suspicious when the stories included the very scientific term "assworms."
I learned that Little Debbie is a vengeful bitch who just wants to make me fat.
I learned that Amish people take public transportation, and often hilarity ensues.
I learned that when you make a comic about a pig, try to make the pig look less seductive, otherwise people think you're into bestiality.
I learned that Ericka, a girl I used to work with, has selective hearing while on the phone. And hilarity ensued.
You watched me get all girlie an overjoyed at getting engaged, and then you watched me have a very public breakdown at the death of my friend.
I learned to make my own Motivational Poster for the workplace.
I decided to change religions, and join a new church.
I peed myself in public, and as if that was humiliating enough, I decided to post about it on the internet for the whole universe to see.
I learned that Prostitutes are disgusting creatures at times.
I learned that after I sit in someone else's urine on a public trainI need to take a hepatitis test.
I learned that maybe I shouldn't have kept my mouth shut in this one instance...but for once I did.
I learned that sometimes stealing is the right thing to do.
I learned that, in general, people are freaked out that I have human remains as a house pet.
I learned that my actions sometimes freak out people in supermarkets.
Well, hasn't this year just been a learning experience and a half! Now, for the hard question: Do I keep going? Do I keep pressing on, and keeping writing? Or do I abandon this and just let it live on in Waybackmachine/Google history? I have to say, over the course of 2009, sometimes my comments were so supportive it just lifted me up more-so than I thought was possible. And so, I think I will keep pressing on, if for no other reason than I have made some great friends through this blog, and Lord knows I need all the support I can get.
Thank you to everyone who has made a comment on this blog or linked to it over the past year.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Killing Ladybugs
Eric plays a game called Final Fantasy 11 (Translation for those of you of the non-dork persuasion: it's a game that is similar to World of Warcraft, only apparently it doesn't suck.) and I decided that I wanted to play and see what it was all about.
Now, I don't play games in which I lose easily. This should pretty well illustrates why I NEVER play chess. I have never - not once in my life - won a game of chess. I played a computer game chess that was designed with children 5-10 in mind, and I have yet to win even at that.
Eric knows of my aversion to playing games that I cannot win, so he set me up in his game with his character in a place where I can do is kill ladybugs. He was afraid that if he just let me loose in this giant online world, something would kill me, and I would just call it a wash and go back to trying to playing computer chess against a panda. Hey, at least the Children's Chess Panda tries to build my self-esteem while he beats my ass raw in chess.
Now, for some of you, killing ladybugs for six hours straight in an online world would seem like the most inane, boring waste of time. But not for me.
See, I hate ladybugs. A LOT. God help me if I ever see a man in a ladybug mascot suit somewhere, because I will invariably spray him the face with bug spray while beating him down with a two-by-four with rusty nails sticking out of it. I really hate ladybugs.
Why? Well, it all goes back to Christmas. We have outside storage, kind of like a closet attached to our balcony where we store half used paint cans, furnace filters, and our fake Christmas tree.
The building we live in doesn't allow real Christmas trees. Let me just reiterate something: We live in a CONDO. We OWN this unit. And yet, no real Christmas trees. Apparently Scrooge himself runs our condo association and feels the need to greedily rub his hands in anticipation every year when I ask if I can PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE have a real Christmas tree.
So, every year this little girl's Christmas wishes are dashed and we have to set up the fake Christmas tree. The fake Christmas tree is stored in a vinyl zip storage bag to keep out pests and to keep it from getting dirty. This year, I went to go get the tree to set it up, I bring it inside, unzip it, and I am completely puzzled. It looks like there are 1,000 tiny beads on the tree.
And then the tiny beads start moving. And then they all at once fly out of the bag.
Apparently, my Christmas tree is the perfect hybernation haven for about 1,000 ladybugs. Also, my mouth, nose, and ears are also the perfect place for ladybugs, as they tried to fly into those spaces as well. Eric and I literally ran around the house trying to capture/kill ladybugs while flailing our arms around like idiots. We we like the Three Stooges only without the third.
We eventually got them all. It took a week. Most of the time I would just turn on the vacuum and suck them up early in the morning. All that early vacuuming made me quite unpopular with the guy who lives below me...who happens to be the same guy who rejects my request for a real Christmas tree every year. Every day I turned on the vacuum and screamed "Merry Christmas you old coot! I'm vacuuming at 5 a.m. because I didn't get a real tree this year!"
Needless to say, I am quite enjoying myself in the online world of ladybug killing, because these ladybugs don't swarm into my mouth and nose, and plus they're pretty easy to kill, unlike the real ones, which took to hiding in places like my pillow case.
Also, if anyone reading this is on the Odin server, drop me a comment and I will let you know my character's name.
Now, I don't play games in which I lose easily. This should pretty well illustrates why I NEVER play chess. I have never - not once in my life - won a game of chess. I played a computer game chess that was designed with children 5-10 in mind, and I have yet to win even at that.
Eric knows of my aversion to playing games that I cannot win, so he set me up in his game with his character in a place where I can do is kill ladybugs. He was afraid that if he just let me loose in this giant online world, something would kill me, and I would just call it a wash and go back to trying to playing computer chess against a panda. Hey, at least the Children's Chess Panda tries to build my self-esteem while he beats my ass raw in chess.
Now, for some of you, killing ladybugs for six hours straight in an online world would seem like the most inane, boring waste of time. But not for me.
See, I hate ladybugs. A LOT. God help me if I ever see a man in a ladybug mascot suit somewhere, because I will invariably spray him the face with bug spray while beating him down with a two-by-four with rusty nails sticking out of it. I really hate ladybugs.
Why? Well, it all goes back to Christmas. We have outside storage, kind of like a closet attached to our balcony where we store half used paint cans, furnace filters, and our fake Christmas tree.
The building we live in doesn't allow real Christmas trees. Let me just reiterate something: We live in a CONDO. We OWN this unit. And yet, no real Christmas trees. Apparently Scrooge himself runs our condo association and feels the need to greedily rub his hands in anticipation every year when I ask if I can PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE have a real Christmas tree.
So, every year this little girl's Christmas wishes are dashed and we have to set up the fake Christmas tree. The fake Christmas tree is stored in a vinyl zip storage bag to keep out pests and to keep it from getting dirty. This year, I went to go get the tree to set it up, I bring it inside, unzip it, and I am completely puzzled. It looks like there are 1,000 tiny beads on the tree.
And then the tiny beads start moving. And then they all at once fly out of the bag.
Apparently, my Christmas tree is the perfect hybernation haven for about 1,000 ladybugs. Also, my mouth, nose, and ears are also the perfect place for ladybugs, as they tried to fly into those spaces as well. Eric and I literally ran around the house trying to capture/kill ladybugs while flailing our arms around like idiots. We we like the Three Stooges only without the third.
We eventually got them all. It took a week. Most of the time I would just turn on the vacuum and suck them up early in the morning. All that early vacuuming made me quite unpopular with the guy who lives below me...who happens to be the same guy who rejects my request for a real Christmas tree every year. Every day I turned on the vacuum and screamed "Merry Christmas you old coot! I'm vacuuming at 5 a.m. because I didn't get a real tree this year!"
Needless to say, I am quite enjoying myself in the online world of ladybug killing, because these ladybugs don't swarm into my mouth and nose, and plus they're pretty easy to kill, unlike the real ones, which took to hiding in places like my pillow case.
Also, if anyone reading this is on the Odin server, drop me a comment and I will let you know my character's name.
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