As my thirty-cough-cough birthday swiftly approaches, I can't help but reflect on the ironies of life. For one, when I was younger I thought adults were all just a tad on the brink of a mental disorder. Now that I am one, I don't think that anymore, I KNOW it.. Second, I could never understand the drama in getting older. I always thought I would welcome it with open arms, embrace each new year, each new age, each new step in my life. Now I find myself batting at it with a broom, trying to shoo it away, like a stray cat covered with mange and scabs, circling my legs and trying to find the perfect moment to shoot in through the open door... And I'm not even middle aged yet....I can't wait to see what that crisis is like...
One of the things that slaps me in the face, reminding me of my age, is the frequency I find things intended for children to be grossly inappropriate. A few weeks back I was shopping with a friend in the toy section at Wal-Mart. We found ourselves in the barbie section. (god only knows why..) At first glance we were visually taken over by bright pink boxes, calling out to unsuspecting little girls. Screaming at them to pick them up and throw fits in attempt to be able to take them home. After the first initial shock of the nauseating 80's hot electric pink shade, I start to notice the actual themes of said Barbies.
Now, I am aware that it is common practice for the Barbie manufactures to adopt a license theme, like movies or celebrities. But it seems like things have changed horribly since I was little. One model they offer is from the James Bond movies. Makes sense, right? They are beautiful, strong women who don't take shit from anyone..... But have these people even SEEN the movies?!?!? Here is one of the James Bond characters they are offering:
If you can't see the tiny text in the bottom left of the box, this little beauty is "Pussy Galore". PUSSY GALORE. Shall I translate the innuendo of her name for you? An abundance of the female sex organ. Abundance..... Yeah... That says "come and play with me kids, I'll show Ken what he's been missing." I just can't see purchasing this doll in good conscience for my daughter.
Me: "Look honey, I got you Pussy Galore to add to your Barbie collection!" Daughter: "YAY! Pussy Galore! Pussy Galore"
Yeah....Not gonna happen.Then, of course I had to come home a do a little online research. And found this:No commentary necessary for this one, really. Because we all know how that one turned out...
Yes, that is in fact a Christina Agulera doll..
Then after close to an hour of seeing scantily clad celebrity after drunken celebrity, my gag reflex was being whole heartedly challenged, so I decided to switch gears and just look for normal everyday Barbies that just had messed up themes all on their own.......and found these:
Um......wow.... I'm pretty sure I have had nightmares like this...
And this one isn't so much disturbing, as just confusing.... The Barbie is picking up dog excrement with a pooper-scooper....which is the exact same substance in the dog bowl, and in the dog's mouth. I'm pretty sure that feeding your dog his own bile is not recommended by most vets... Just sayin. Is this promoting proper pet care? I don't think so.
"Sparky!! Did you poo on the floor again?!?!? Well guess what you get for dinner! BAD dog!!"
So shorty after, I had to put the Barbie theme to rest, because it was starting to become quite depressing. Things were not this way when I was little! It made me start to long for a simpler time. Which in turn made me remember hearing the same exact phrase muttered from my mother's lips, and my grandmother's lips...... So I quickly stopped.
And then I recalled the nightmare of the last few Halloween's, trying to find an appropriate costume for my daughter.
For the last couple of years I've tried to be creative while coming up with a costume for my daughter. While was growing up it never seemed to be a problem for me. Being that my mom was a seamstress, all I had to do was give her ample notice and she could whip me up something cool. After years of poodle skirts, zombie-esque shrouds, and many more, my "dressing up" days came to a pause. But times they are a changing. After exhausting the princess, ballerina and more things of the like, I decided to ask my daughter for her input as to the costume she wanted to don for the festivities. I should state for the record that I never had this issue with my son, he always just wanted to be something dead and scary.. But girls are a whole different ball of wax.
My daughter decided (with the help of me and a family friend) that she wanted to be Hermione (from Harry Potter, for those of you were aren't down with the Potter speak). We took a trip to the nearest costume store to see what we could find.
I was horrified.After a good ten minutes of diligently searching through endless racks and isles, we found the "Harry" but not the "Hermione". Which actually the only difference was the absence of a skirt, replaced with a pair of pants. After asking the store clerk if he could lead us in the right direction, he pointed out a woman's costume that he said would be a good replacement.........
Which was not.This costume is what a woman would wear if she were staring in the porn version of Harry Potter. (which I am told exists) Why he thought I felt this would be appropriate for my eight year old daughter, I have no idea. We were faced with costume after costume of the sluttiest children's costumes I had ever seen. Things like this:
I found many more pictures, but I can't muster the stomach to post them....because they get much worse.... And to find these I typed in "sexy children's costumes". No shit.
Maybe to start saving some time, we could just jump right into installing a pole into our daughter's room and give them an endless supply of body glitter and cheap perfume..
"Put that book down, honey. I bought you Carmen Electra's stripper aerobics video instead. And you don't need college! There is nothing wrong with paying your rent in slightly sweaty singles! It all spends the same. You're welcome."
So, contrary to popular belief (and many many hours of trying to will it so) I have not fallen into a portal to another dimension. One where all the animals talk and everyone breaks out into song at any given moment. No...no... Ive just been here completely absorbed in reading. That and my sleep has been horribly thrown off, so I have been prone to massive mood swings, having my emotions go from one end of the shining "woman-spectrum" to the other... I felt that posting a blog that went from: "I had the best bagel today, I love you all!" to: why does my cat often look at me like I'm just not good enough?!?!" then finally to: "I am not in existence to impress everyone, why wont people just leave me alone and let me read?!?!?!", was not the best way to entertain readers. That is also not the best way to stay out of a state hospital.....so staying quiet was really best on all levels, really.
But, with the help of some pretty great last couple of days, and the fact that The Boyfriend finally made it back home after a two week business trip, I feel tons better. I've taken the boards off the windows, changed out of my fuzzy sheep pajama pants, and have stopped talking about myself in the third person. Heather is back on track! .....damn it!!
I had a startling realization today. It was one of those metaphorical light bulbs that goes off in your head, but once it comes on it turns out to be way too bright and cant be switched back off again....
My friend and I had decided to go shopping and run some errands. We stopped by our Mecca: Whole Foods, for some tea and vitamins. Then our other source of sheer elation: Barnes and Noble. And then the place that makes us constantly wonder why in the hell we keep going there, and also wonder why a startling percentage of the population has never heard of birth control or soap: Wal-Mart.
While walking through the store, picking out random groceries, my friend and I are quite enjoying ourselves. Talking about nothing in particular, joking around, laughing, and just simply enjoying being out of the house on such a nice day. From one completely obscure inside joke to the next, the laughing and joking reached a level that I'm quite sure others in the immediate vicinity could hear, but would not be disturbed by. Or was it?
That's when it hit me. Are we in the "annoying" category of the general population? In a time in our lives when we have reached that age where teenagers think we are old, and the middle-aged still views us as "kids", we have totally and completely encased ourselves in that warm shroud of confidence, welcomed self realization, and a general satisfaction of the direction (or lack thereof) that our lives have taken thus far.
I started thinking: How long has it been since someone new has joined our "group"? Do we even want that to happen? Would anyone else even want to? Not that these things matter, or should matter.... But at this point in my life I have realized that I have surrounded myself with the base, foundation, and building blocks of my being. I have the best friends that I have ever had, and probably (and hopefully) ever will. My kids are smart, happy, and healthy, and even though I hope to accomplish something great within this next decade of my life, I am satisfied with the step of the "ladder of life" that I have paused on.
But again, I ask myself: "is the reason for all that because I am one of those people that I oh-so-not long ago found to be really agitating? I make (somewhat) tasteful jokes in public, not caring who overhears. I thrust myself into a persona that is purposefully annoying, for the humor of it all. But the one answer to the question that really bothers me is: I don't care! Is that wrong entirely? Or is this what self confidence really feels like.....? (Being one of those that grew up never really feeling the definition of the word "self confidence", I find the tinge of guilt for strangers around me questionable)
After having this somewhat out of body realization, I quickly dismissed all hindering thoughts, and went right back to being annoying. Because after all, life is short, we should try to enjoy it while we can.
And once back to being myself, my friend and I finished up our afternoon quietly making fun of a woman who was wearing what looked like her own version of a pirate outfit. Black, rather tight pants, black knee-high leather boots, and a white shirt. Topping off this ensemble was a red sash, tied just enough above the waist for it to look odd. Or like she was going to fire some cannons and hoist the main sail......
Apparently at the age of 30, having self-realization-based ideas of betterment doesn't last very long. Either that or my attention span is too short to maintain a want for personal growth. Either way, I'm okay with it.
Of all the pets we have in this household, only one of them was actually chosen and purchased. The $3 Beta fish.. The lizard was a birthday gift for my daughter. Even though he is quite awesome, he is a bitch to feed and maintain. He has to be misted every day, several times a day, and will only eat live crickets... And before all this I never realized how fragile (and completely stupid) crickets are. You barely touch them and they fall apart, and they will drown themselves in the smallest amount of water while drinking if they get to close..... Kinda like that drunk uncle everyone has that they dread seeing on the holidays. And they smell. So again....kinda like that uncle. So in this instance I suppose its the pets food that is a bitch to take care of as opposed to the actual pet.
Our cat went through two owners before coming to us, all within a matter of weeks after being weaned. (This should have been a warning sign) And our dog, who is a pure breed Maltise, was abandonded during the coldest part of the year, right on the brink of a really bad snow storm. (ALSO should have been a warning sign) Me not being able to resist, and would not have been able to think of anything else but the poor puppy freezing outside, let him in. Now here we are one year later and he's still here. Its been two years for the cat.
This morning, I received more proof that my pets are disfunctional...
The dog and the cat share a water bowl in the kitchen floor. It is one of those that dispenses water into the tray as the water level goes down. Being that I am lazy, and usually have better things to do, it rarely gets scrubbed and filled up all the way. Usually I just pour a cup of water in there once or twice a day and call it good. But last night I realized it was getting kinda funky, so I actually took the time to scrub it out.
I scrubbed and cleaned this thing so well that the damn queen could have drank from this thing....not as if that situation comes up very often, or at all..... but the bullet point here is that it was clean, and full of sparkling clean, cool water. The pets rejoiced.
Also, being that I am a sucker and felt sorry for my little dog that gets locked in the kitchen at night (he has issues with his bowels and bladder during the night when there is no one to take him out every three hours..), and since it is still pretty cold, I gave the dog one of my throw blankets to sleep on..
This morning I stumble into the kitchen to start the coffee and step on the blanket to a most unwelcoming, cold, disgusting squish when I stepped on the blanket. Somehow during the night, the dog had worked it over to the water bowl, and it had absorbed ALL the water out of it...... and we are talking about a lot of water....like six cups.. So needless to say, the blanket was completely soaked.
THEN....and it gets soooooo much worse....
THEN I (while cussing mildly under my breath) pick up the blanket, to uncover a dead mouse.... This mouse had no sign of trauma or injury, so it appears to have drown. WHY in the hell would a home WITH A CAT have mice at all......but one that had actually survived out in the open of the kitchen long enough to drown in wet dog blanket?!?!?!
Now.....I have seen my cat eat an entire mouse, whole, before, so Im not quite sure what happened this time. Either my emo cat feels that he is too good to be eating live (or dead) things off the floor any more, or that last one didn't sit too well and he has decided not to make the same mistake twice. Either way, as I was disposing of it, he looked at it, and me, with great disgust.
Right then I felt like an old jewish mother, clutching her chest with tissue in hand, after discovering her only son has joined the circus instead of going off to medical school as she had hoped.. "What did I do to deserve such an ungrateful child?!?!" What indeed?........
Maybe his mental capacity is part of the problem....?
It has been recently brought to my attention that there are those that do not agree with individuals proudly wearing and using the title of "nerd". Those that necessarily don't disagree, but are confused by the pride the nerd-folk hold in having this label. I felt that it was my duty to set the record straight. I'd like to begin todays lesson with a story...
The other day, The Boyfriend and I were laying in bed, having one of those random 2am talks, that generally spring up out of nowhere, and usually don't actually go anywhere, but instead ends when one or both of us simply passes out. The subject was junior high and high school, how it went for each of us, and how we survived. He seemed really surprised when I told him that when in junior high I only had one or two friends. And our school was so big that I rarely ever saw them. So a large majority of lunches were spent sitting by myself while dodging french fries being thrown at me from nearby tables. "Really????" He kept saying. ".......really????" He has assumed that school stories such as this were only being exaggerated in movies and TV shows. Nope. Really. Preteens and teenagers are pricks. Period.
But alas, I survived (with minimal emotional scarring) and trudged on to high school. I had managed to make a larger amount of friends, and off campus lunches saved me from picking food out of my hair on a daily basis. This does not mean that I went without harassment. Everyday, several times a day, there were those that felt they were better than everyone else, and they were going to drill that into your head through public humiliation...... Again, I survived. A little more bitter toward the world and the general population, but alive.
So I grew up knowing the definition of the word "nerd". I blossomed feeling like the damn word was etched across my forehead. But I survived. And more importantly, I didn't change much. I kept right on liking all the same nerdy things I liked before. Even though every corner I turned, every magazine I opened, every show I watched, I was being shown, told, lectured on how girls my age were supposed to act, dress, and project. I stuck to the things I liked.
I was given (and deserved) the title of Nerd, and I wore it proudly! Proudly I tell you! And into my adulthood I have fallen farther into that catagory, and still wear the title proudly.
How, you ask? Well let me enlighten you...
A few years back my brother worked at a comic book/gaming store. He was in charge of the RPG and table games, which meant he had to learn how to play them so he could then in turn, educate the customers. So he brought games and cards galore home and practiced with me as his pupil. One of which was the Star Wars card game.
This was one that we decided we really liked, and played quite often... My brother had gotten one set from work, which consisted of a full set of Rebels/Jedi cards, (the good guys) and a full set of the Dark side (the bad guys). I always played with the Rebels/Jedi cards, because frankly.......they are awesome. So when we decided to retire the game for the time being, my brother gave me one set, and he kept the other. Which, you need both sets to actually play, so each set alone was basically useless. Remember that episode of the Simpsons where all the old men in Springfield were apart of that "order" and each one of them had a key, and as they died off their key would be placed in the large round lock? Then the last person living inherited what was inside...? Yeah, it was kinda like that, except with Star Wars cards.......and there is only two of us.....
And who else but a nerd has toys and action figures displayed in their living rooms.........at the age of 30?? To name a few, I have Spiderman figures, Ghost Busters toys, and Lego Star Wars toys and figures. (and I have friends that have collections that make mine look like a happy meal prize) And to top off the obsession I just this week spent several, several hours on ebay bidding on more Star Wars Lego figures. A few of which, I won, proudly. This next week will be the longest ever, as I stand closely behind the post man as he fills all 75 mail slots, waiting for him to deliver my figures. He may call the cops....it could get ugly.
The Obi Wan, above, is my newest addition.
Every week or so, my friends and I get together and have the same conversations, over and over again. Sometimes we expound and branch out.....sometimes they can get quite heated. But they usually all contain the same set of material. Star Wars, Angel, Firefly, The Office, True Blood, Buffy......it gets rough..especially when there is liquor involved.
So in closing, I am a nerd. I am proud of that fact. I survived the torment of junior high and high school, and have managed to skip the therapy. I earned that title back in my youth, and held on to it until we have reached a time where people claim it. They are proud of it. Because like the rest, they went through hell to get it, it took a hell of a lot of pride to accept it, and even more guts to display it with honor.
This last weekend made up for the mind numbing despair that was my week, thanks to my friends. Awww! Love you guys! ..........anyway.. My friend and I started out our weekend on Friday evening by convincing another friend to go out.....in public.....with OTHER PEOPLE.....to get a drink.
It was a little sad at first. See, once you hit a certain age, (especially if you spent most of your teen years drinking) you really have no desire to go to a bar. Just the general idea sounds repulsive. Its loud. Its crowded. The drinks are expensive. And the worst part of it all: ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE... But every now and then the social creatures in us break to the surface and wins over our decisions. So we went to the bar... Seeing a large amount of lonely, close to middle-aged (if not already) people, desperate to take someone home, or just out to put off going home to their mothers...was a little on the icky side.....yeah....it was one of "those" bars...
We ended up staying up soooooo much later than intended, but still had fun. The next morning (afternoon, really...who are we kidding..?) my friend and I headed out and went shopping. We made a stop at the most amazing, awesome, and totally out of the way Asian grocery store. This place is so incredibly amazing I can't even properly do it justice by expressing... They sell around 8 different types of rice (yes rice) and about 14,963 different types of tea...among other wonderful treasures that I or a majority of America knows what it is or how to pronounce. And the woman that works the front register (I believe she is the manager, or the owner, or something else equally important) is one of the crabbiest, bitchiest, and scariest women under five feet tall.. But that just adds to the atmosphere, because it is the greatest place ever.... We then later went to Walmart for the remainder of our groceries. (which is the least awesome place ever....but what can you do...?)
While at Walmart, however, we decided to wander over to the toy section to check out the Lego Star Wars sets. While discussing the different sets available, a little boy around six or seven jumped in to our conversation. He knew all the characters names.....(the obscure ones that only hardcore fans know) which sets were new, which ones were about to be discontinued..... I wanted to adopt this child.... For a brief moment of insanity, I started to wonder if I had slipped into a worm hole, gone back in to the 80's, and had just run into one (the possibilities are endless) of my friends in their childhood form.... But then I came to my senses and just realized that this child is just simply amazing and BRILLIANT... I hope his parents (which were oddly nowhere to be found) are proud...
The only original plan for the weekend was for all of us to gather at a friend's apartment, and he was to cook dinner for us. Having a man cook me dinner for a change was not something I was going to pass up, so I was rather looking forward to this.... but because of the lack of sleep the night before, and the long day of shopping, we were exhausted... I knew it was getting bad when in an attempt to keep us awake he broke out his plastic dinosaurs and recreated the "Wash and his dinosaur toys" scene from Firefly...... It didn't work...we all ended up nodding off from time to time..
But all in all, it was a good weekend.
And even though this week is nearly at its end, it has been decent. I was told that we will be making a trip to Eureeka Spring in the summer, and will be staying at a totally awesome haunted hotel. THAT is sure to be two sleep deprived, beer filled nights. I cant wait!
And to keep with the theme of the last blog. I give you a star wars reference cat picture that has absolutely no relevance to this blog.......other than the fact that I found it funny..... Enjoy.
Today just seemed like a good day for a photo blog... Enjoy.
This was taken at D-Fest. There were so many bands. So many people. And it was soooooo hot outside. (who has an outdoor festival/concert, in August, in OKLAHOMA?!?!) It was like 105 degrees that day.... and this was taken just a mere minutes before the oh so awful vomiting began......... wearing Chucks......while up-chucking...ha, ha.....ha..? Sorry, had to.
It took several shots, and many many dollars worth of fireworks before I got a shot that I was satisfied with. And nobody lost a finger or got set on fire that year! Yeah for Independence Day!!
The weird marble/globe/water monument at the zoo that all the kids obsess over. Seriously, its like kid crack...
Yeah, those are just berries.
Fountain at Woodward Park
Pac Man Lillies!!! I don't think that is really what they are called, but whatever.
The complete crap-fest that has been my week is finally coming to an end. I'm in high hopes that this weekend will pull me back of that proverbial edge. (i said proverbial, call off the intervention) And not that one thing in particular was bad enough to have me sitting in the dark in my crappiest bath robe eating double chunk ice cream with cool ranch Doritos in lieu of a spoon.....but really the combination of the week's events that have created this shit storm of emotions..
My week started out like any other. Happy for school to be back in session after a three day weekend due to snow and ice..... Its gettin old Winter..enough already! But as time progressed on, the Evil Week was determined to piss in my cheerios.
Things were moving right along when I get, yet another phone call from (*insert cell phone manufacturer here). The Boyfriend recently bought me a (*insert brand and model of cell phone here). One of its perks is that it is a touch screen and I have the ability to download applications for the phone. This phone, for some reason, will not do this. After "chatting" with tech support on the Internet for close to an hour, he/or she comes to the realization that they cannot fix the problem and they will transfer my issue to a "higher-up". So after waiting for two weeks, someone finally gets back to me, but cannot help me because I have to shut off the phone in order to fix the problem. This however cannot be done at that particular moment, because I am TALKING TO HER ON SAID CELL PHONE. After much a long winded explanation that I DO NOT have another phone line, which she didn't seem to understand, ("wha....? You just have the one cell phone and no land line.......? I.....don't understand........no.......other phone.......? Wha....?) she stated that she would just call me back.......HOW IS THAT GOING TO HELP????
But anyway... I know, I know.... I'm a spoiled brat. But I have the phone, I should be able to use ALL of its features. AM i right???
Anyhoo. Frustrated from the useless phone call, I decide to take my dog for a walk and get some fresh air. The first thing to greet me outside, is about a dozen (freakishly large) puddles of spit. Now this has been going on for over six months now, and Ive about reached my clock tower point.
As a short explanation; I live upstairs. My door is right off the the steps. Back when I still smoked I would sit on the top step to do so. This would put me about two feet from my door. The neighbor downstairs (who appears to be in his late 20's/ early 30's and still lives with his mother) has decided to come A-L-L the way up the stairs to sit in front of my door, smoke pot, and spit repeatedly onto the ground and steps in front and to the side of him..... which is essentially: my doorstep.
And if this was his only offense, it wouldn't be QUITE so bad....but he also: has one of his many girlfriends "service" him right there in the hallway. Has his friends come pick him up at all hours of the day and night, and let their presence be known by blaring their stereo for what seems to be 10 to 20 minutes before he realizes they are there. AND every now and then, one of the girlfriends will find out about one of the many other girlfriends, and come screeching through the parking lot, to then jump out of the car and begin screaming profanity, before finding out that he is in fact, not home........ Kill me.
(i said short explanation. Sorry, i lied.)
And added on top of that, maintenance wont install a new microwave in my apartment. The one I have is literally one of the first models of microwaves ever made! And it shoots out blue sparks about every third time it is used. The Boyfriend suggested that we invite parents over to join us for our Valentines Day dinner. The dinner that I have been planning the menu for months now. The one that didn't involve OTHER PEOPLE....... Yeah...that one. Recently another blogger (that I am totally hooked on reading) totally and completely crapped all over something that I loooooove. Wont go in to what or who, because everyone is entitled to their opinion, and the right to express their opinion. But it was kinda like when you are totally obsessed with a band or movie or something of the like, and you think that it is the most awesome thing on the planet. And everyone else on the planet MUST feel the same way as you, because after all, its awesome! Then you find out that everyone else you know thinks that it is total crap....... yeah it was like that. It stings. And last but not least; The de-worming meds I am giving my cat makes him vomit......a lot. I don't just mean the occasional little puddle. No. This is apocalyptic, crime scene, totally over the top, amount of vomit. Enough said.
BUT..... I am welcoming this weekend with open arms. Being that I am an optimistic, glass half full kinda person, I am expecting.......HAHAHAHA..... Yeah, sorry, I couldn't even get through that with a strait face....... whew!
But seriously. Bring it on weekend! I can take it.....
This picture really has nothing to do with this post. I just thought it was funny. Happy Weekend Everyone!
Ive always been one of those annoying people that says "if ONE more crappy thing happens I'm gonna.....*insert nasty thing I would do here*...". Apparently that one more thing never happens, because I never had to *re-insert nasty thing I would do here*. Either that or I am just totally full of shit. More than likely it's the latter...
But this seems like one of those times where I'm going to pile on the shit and say, "if one more crappy thing happens I'm gonna.........well......probably bend over and take it, but you can damn well believe that I am going to bitch about it!"
The things that are oh-so-vexing me as of late are three fold, as most bad things are, aren't they? For the first of my thrice annoyances, we will start with Fire Safe Cigarettes, shall we?
As you may or may not know, 92% of the states in the Unites States have passed laws that require cigarettes to be made with new fire safe paper. They believe this will cut down on deaths and injuries caused by cigarette related fires. The fire safe paper for the cigarettes is made out of two or three bands of less-porous paper glued together with ethylene vinyl acetate copolymer emulsion based adhesive.....which is essentially; CARPET GLUE.. Good times. *what this is supposed to achieve is a paper that will cease to burn if not manipulated; ie, if you stop taking puffs off the cigarette the fire will go out. Now instead, while smoking the chunk of tobacco that is actually on fire will occasionally fall out of the paper.........HOW IS THIS ANY BETTER???
Now lets skip through all the crap where I defend a person's right to smoke (as long as it is done in respect to other's) and we also skip past the part where I say quitting is the only way out alive and all that other crap.... blah, blah, blah.... now we are back to the main point. The crap they are putting in the cigarettes to make them fire safe, is actually three times more dangerous than the cigarette itself! I spent close to four hours clutching my chest in horror as I scanned through website after endless website containing articles on this subject.
The horrible side effects from smoking the cigarettes with the new paper.......I HAD. All the while blaming each and every one on something else. Pets. Allergies. Stress. So on, and so on. Can anyone say "selective genocide". I wont go into my thoughts and feelings on THAT, we would be here all day....
Anyhoo. The other vex I am having is this new found fear I am having about my safety and the safety of all my worldly possessions. At the beginning of this week my neighbor left her apartment for roughly two hours. When she came back, her door was pried open and her apartment had been robbed. This was during the day. While I was home. My door less than 15 feet from hers! Several other neighbors home as well. What the hell??? Someone out there has balls....great big theft-lovin' balls. So now, not only am I afraid that someone is going to break in at any moment, day or night, I'm also afraid to leave my apartment in fear of coming home to find nothing but a wide-eyed traumatized cat. Being that I live in an apartment I cannot modify things in any way, like extra locks or an alarm system. I just have to hope like hell that the the constant bag of cat crap by the door, forever waiting to be tossed in the dumpster, and the wreath that is always three holidays behind will detour anyone from breaking in. "Nah, skip that one. I doubt those nasty slobs have anything worth taking anyway.." Yeah, that's right buddy......just keep on movin'..... I hear 3B has a new flat screen..
And last, but certainly not least: My cat now has worms...... How does an indoor cat who is absolutely terrified of even the open door contract worms, you say? I have no damn clue! but he's got 'em. Apparently its a pretty simple remedy, it just takes a matter of days for the meds to have a full effect. Meanwhile Ive got a mobile worm dispenser walking around the apartment, with worms shawshanking their way out of his anus and onto anything in sight. Do you know how hard it is to keep a cat off of the furniture?? Pretty damn hard. There is only so many times I can smack him before he just doesn't care anymore... So out of the 16-18 hours that I am awake I have been vacuuming for about 15 of those. On the upside, the market for Dirt Devil's replacement vacuum cleaner bags is going to sky rocket...
Throughout the span of my life up to this point, I have been blessed (surprisingly) with a very small amount of horrifyingly embarrassing moments. Now, don't get me wrong, I have had many many small ones. But very rarely have I had the huge "I wish a sniper would come pick me off right now, just so I no longer have to be aware of this moment in time" kind of moment. In fact I cant even properly recall the last time I had one of those moments. Or my brain has sympathetically blacked it out, knowing I cant afford therapy.
Well the universe stepped in and made up for lost time...
I am the proud owner of what my friends like to refer to as "emo cat". A large majority of the time he carries the look of anger or brooding on his face. Even when he is very clearly enjoying something; being scratched, eating, napping... he looks completely unimpressed and emotionally detached from the situation. This, and when he is spoken to he either has the look of boredom, disgust, or literally like he is on the threshold of rolling his eyes. Now I am fully aware that cats do not posses the ability to roll their eyes. Unless of course they are being choked..... Not that I'm speaking from experience.....haha!......ha!.......ha. Ahem..... anyway.
But due to his reaction to most things, I find amusement in trying to annoy the ever-loving crap out of him. This is what happens to people when they become shut-ins!
When "emo cat" is hungry, he makes the most god-awful sound he can accomplish, and will physically attempt to trip me every opportunity he gets. And today as I am walking down the hall of my apartment toward my bedroom, he starts doing just that. So, being the total dork that I am, started harassing him by singing "Feed My Frankenstein" by Alice Cooper, while poking him repeatedly in the side... Except I have replaced the word "Frankenstein" with "kitty-kitty"......
REALLY stupid, I know... Don't judge me, I was alone.....or so I thought.
As I have mentioned in the past, I live right along side the highway. Being that my windows face said highway, it drowns out a lot of the noise in the apartment. Much like low white noise, or having the washer running constantly. So when I am in the back of the apartment, ie my bedroom, I cant hear things that are going on in the living room. "Things" in this case would be the maintenance men knocking on my door....
One of the many things I dislike about apartment living, is that your space is never really "your space". And management likes to give you frequent reminders of that fact by entering your apartment at any given time. On many occasion they have knocked on the door, waited approximately 0.6 seconds before ramming in their key and thrusting the door open. And each time this occurs they open the door to find me, mere feet away reaching for the knob, with a look on my face that says, "you are SO incredibly fortunate that I do not have a firearm in my hand right at this moment-and-next time how 'bout giving me two damn seconds to open the door FOR YOU....mkay?"...
So today not being any different from the others, they apparently knocked and when no response was given by someone with vampire-like speed, they let themselves in. However, unlike all the other occasions, today they walk in to me off in the distance singing my own version of an Alice Cooper song. As if this was not bad enough, I was dressed in old sweat pants, an old tank top with bleach stains, (it was laundry day) and slippers. And to make things even more horrible, I was singing for the benefit of the cat.....and making it obvious that the cat was my intended audience...
By the time I realized that I was not alone it was waaaaaaay too late. WAY too late.... They had already heard enough, and then very shortly thereafter, they saw enough.... I wanted to die, right then and there. All the places I have never been, all the things I have yet to do, I no longer gave a shit. Dead....pencil to the temple....lamp cord around the neck......I didn't care, whatever would have killed me fastest. Ironically, the cat looked almost as mortified as I was.
Okay, so...yeah, Ive been gone a while. I'd like to say it was for some noble reason, like saving ducks and baby otters from oil spills, or feeding the hungry......... But, I was reading. And apparently all those doctors from my childhood who claimed I had A.D.D* can suck it, because I got so caught up reading that I kind of forgot about everything else. (*I should mention that I believe that attention deficit disorder is something doctors made up as something to label a child who has an over-active imagination, lots of energy, and are slower than the norm to learn some things. And by giving the child this label, it then releases parents, teachers, and other adults from the responsibility of having to put forth some effort to help, or frees them from being blamed for pre-mentioned behavior and learning ailment.)
Ho-boy! That was a bit on the bitchy side, eh? Sorry 'bout that!
Any-hoo.... So as I was saying... I wasn't just reading this whole time, that would just be sad and pathetic.. (and something I would be totally capable of) No, I did find other things to eat up my writing time. Some friends and I went to go see Sherlock Holmes, which was completely amazing I might add! The only part that was not completely amazing, however, was roughly 10 minutes from the end of the film the fire alarm goes off, the lights come on, and we are instructed via pre-recorded message on the loud speaker, that we are to "please evacuate the building in a safe yet timely manner"... So we all trudge out the emergency exit, at 11:30 at night. The ground c-o-v-e-r-e-d in ice. Outdoor temperature resting at around 20 below freezing. And we are in the theatre in the BACK of the building. Fun.
Then to prove how smart the general population is, they all proceed to make their way around the building (which at this time we have no idea if the building is actually on fire), walk right up to the front entrance, and go RIGHT BACK INSIDE...smart. And being that we didn't want to be the ONLY ones that have the guts to show our intelligence, we go back in the building as well. After a few minutes, we were informed that it was in fact a false alarm, we were allowed to go back into the theatre and our movie would resume shortly. So other than that it was great. Probably not my smartest moment, but, come on! Sherlock Holmes........Robert Downey Jr......... Jude Law......need I say more?