Kinda Long Social Commentary Rant so Strap In!

Ok so I haven't written here in awhile because I actually got a pseudo-job. I babysit an 8 month old baby who is so effin cute. I have some funny videos and pictures of him but I'm not going to put any up yet until I ask his mom Annie for permission.

Annie, by the way, cracks me up. She is so funny and kind of the mom I hope to be like. I felt the same way about Christal, the woman I babysat for back in Salisbury. She would arrive home at the end of the night, write me a check, and I'd make like I was going to leave, but we would always end up sitting on the couch chatting away. I'd text Dennis when I saw her headlights coming up the driveway, saying "Christal's back, be home soon" or something like that. When I didn't show up 15 minutes later Dennis would start to call and I'd ignore it usually. No offense Dennis but those conversations got pretty intense.

So anywho, I am trying to decide what topic to tackle next. So far my entries have been a mix of me listing off things that annoy me (mainly psychics, tv shows, or the combination of the 2), some mildly serious political views, and some observational humor (at least it's humorous to me) (Have I used enough parentheses in this sentence?). So where next?

I endured a rather trying experience this month that leads me to think I should attempt some social commentary. This same feeling of wanting to write and direct my very own PSA for the stupid people in my life happened after another crappy experience in my past. It's not exactly the same but somehow it seems like when bad things happen to you, you can better observe the actions of others and judge them more harshly/accurately. For example, you'd think this was common knowledge but clearly it isn't as I see it happening all the damn time. Using FACEBOOK as a medium to express condolences over a serious tragedy, such as oh I don't know, a death in the family, is not acceptable. Or it shouldn't be. But facebook rules all these days so it very well may be the sole vehicle we all will have to use to communicate with someday.

Having gone through a tragedy, I have plenty of social commentary to offer - mostly a list of "What Not To Do!" This one is difficult though because I try to keep in mind that people are acting with good intentions and perhaps they really don't know any better. Someday I will make a film about it and make everyone watch it Clockwork Orange-style.

My latest social commentary comes on the heels of some "guests" I had staying in my home for a long LONG weekend. I put guest in quotes because I was trying to be sarcastic or something, inasmuch as the word guest seems to imply that the people in question are gracious and respectful, while the ones at my house were not... but maybe I am reading into it too much.

So I have a long weekend and I'm ready to have my house back to myself. I love all of my friends and I like being social but a lot of times I get so easily annoyed by people and think how much better my day would be if I didn't have to interact with certain people. Is it a surprise that I identify very strongly with Liz Lemon, Tina Fey's character on 30 Rock?

By Sunday morning, nothing too bad had happened but I was still grinding my teeth and popping my legally prescribed Xanax (for just such situations!) in anticipation of when my guests would be leaving. We attended an event that lasted until the late evening. A sad realization came over me when I knew that the event had ended at such a time that the guests would most likely stay another night at our house. Sigh.

Then I panic and think about Monday and how Dennis will be at work and thus I'm going to be the sole entertainer. I like having Dennis around because he is quite a social butterfly and gets along with people so well. I get along with people too but.. hmm. How can I put this? When his phone rings he answers it 95% of the time, whether he knows the number or not. I answer mine about 5% of the time, even if I do recognize the number. I just don't feel like talking to or being around people sometimes. It doesn't mean I don't like them most of the time or even all of the time, it just means I need to not be around people in general. And by people I mean everyone except D1 & D2.

So I plan a completely unnecessarily long trip to get lunch with my BFF Mere. I was going to say the lunch in itself was unnecessary but it wasn't. I totally needed to see Mere. I had been seeking advice from her all weekend for my calamity and I thought it would be nice to sit down and talk in person. I drove an hour both ways to eat a bagel with cream cheese. It was fun and worth it, and I love seeing my Mermy, but it was just a way for me to get out of the house.

It was so bad that I got home early from lunch and had an hour before I had to go babysit, and instead of going home I went to a Marshall's and looked around. I don't even have any fun souvenirs to show for it!  Ok I'm getting ahead of myself.

Knowing I was going to have to share my home for the next 24 hours (at least) with the likes of this prick was really frustrating to me. It made my stomach churn and so I removed myself from the situation. When I got back from babysitting on Monday I went upstairs and took some phone calls in the privacy of my room. Every second that ticked by made me feel more and more distressed. When they finally left my house, I felt so relieved. That wasn't the end of it - I told the guest he wasn't welcome in my house again until he learned not to be a bigot. His reaction was to delete me on facebook. Oh facebook, you wily minx, you cruel-hearted mistress, when will you cease your endless torment?!

So I guess my commentary here is regarding my obligation to my guests and their obligation to me. The reason I was getting so annoyed by their presence was because I supposed they would leave on Sunday night, and then they didn't and didn't say when they were leaving nor make any move to pack or leave by 8pm on Monday. It had been a 4 day weekend that I was ready to end. At one point I was texting Mere and she asked if I thought I should go to the event on Sunday or if it was possible for me to skip it. I said something like, "Yea I was thinking about skipping it but social etiquette demands that I go." Then Mere said "Your mental health comes first." What an epiphany.

Isn't that sad, that people need to be reminded of that? How many events or phone calls or conversations have you sat through when you really wanted to leave? You could have walked away at any time but instead you think, Oh I can't do that. Why can't you? Says who? Says everyone. But then why isn't the same stigma applied to people staying at my god damn house! If I was to kick people to the curb, I'm an asshole... but what about the people who overstay their welcome - what are they? Are they not assholes??

Falling asleep - to be continued later.

Disney is waging biological warfare on me

Omg readers.. I can pluralize that.. there's more than one of you right?

Readers.. scary news. I was attacked by some unknown breed of super-bugs hellbent on conveying some sort of message to me. I think this is like when people send satellites into outer space with all kind of different languages and codes and symbols on them, so there's a better chance that the aliens will understand what we're saying.

Well these super-bugs chose me as their vessel and sent me a communication. See below:

So what do you think? Is it Braille? Should I take an imprint and make a mold so that I can study it or better yet, take it to a Braille professional who is more likely to obtain knowledge from it because I don't know Braille?

Could it be Morse Code? What does "all dots" mean? Does Morse Code differentiate between different sized dots? Or does that just mean it's a capital letter?

Does anyone see any religious relics in there? Maybe a Virgin Mary or a Jesus, although those typically only surface on grilled cheese sandwiches. Yea I think I see it. It's definitely Cain. Or Abel. I think it might be easier if I did a connect-the-dots type thing. Holy shit. There it is...

Oh.. my... god. This goes deeper than I first thought. I need to talk to some friends in the FBI before I look into this any further. Godspeed my friends.

Blue Heron Homicide

I have been thinking about this great story lately. It is not great in the traditional sense like Dickens or Hemingway, or even in the sense that you will rush to tell all of your friends my great story.. actually now that I've put some thought into it maybe the word should be awful or tragic instead of great. Count yourself lucky if you aren't curled up in a ball rocking back and forth and sucking your thumb by the end of this story. And crying. And channeling your thoughts through your friend Tony who lives in your finger.

Let's start out by talking about the blue heron. As you can tell by the title of the post, this story does not end well for the old boy. I went to Wikipedia, my 2nd love, to find out more about this majestic bird. Wouldn't you know it is actually called the GREAT Blue Heron? Man. What the hell. Well anywho, the Wikipedia page doesn't really tell me what I want to know, but I think what I'm looking for is somewhat intangible. Maybe it is an Eastern Shore thing, but blue herons are practically worshipped down there. My apartment in Salisbury was next door to a museum dedicated to waterfowl... in layman's terms - BIRDS. These people love their birds, and I think the blue heron is right at the top of the list, like the bird king.

Now that you have a little background, I'll tell you that the story starts with a trip to PA or something. A trip home from PA, more specifically. Dennis had been driving my cute little Honda Fit for most of the 8 hour trip when he finally asked me to take over the wheel for the last hour. I was a good sport (read: new relationship, accommodating gf) so I obliged. Maybe it looked something like this:

Probably looked more real-lifey though, but that's beside the point. The point is, don't we look great in my fly-ass whip? So we're driving down the highway, when we see this...

And Dennis used his super keen observational powers.

I was so focused on my driving that I didn't even see the heron. I had seen them enough on the shore that I didn't try TOO hard to look for the aforementioned heron; that is, until Dennis broke out his super keen perceptibility powers.

I feebly attempted to locate the heron in my sights but again, I just wasn't that interested. Until Dennis suggested that the regal bird acting weird = acting drunk. Hmm. So I finally saw the bird in all its glory..

This is all, of course, a recollection from almost 3 years ago, so forgive me for not remembering the specific brand of 40 that he was drinking.

There was probably 5 or 10 seconds from the time that I first saw the heron and the time it merged paths with my life, but it seemed like even less than that and I honestly don't remember what that path looked like, but I will still attempt to recreate it for you.

Bird rolls like tumbleweed across median.

Bird eats shit, takes impact to the face.

Bird makes misguided attempt at flight.

Bird misjudges velocity of the oncoming Fit.

Last minute assessment of his surroundings...

And splat.

This bird loop-de-looped around in the air, drifting from the median straight into oncoming traffic. Before I had time to react, this bird was face-planting directly into my windshield.

The sound was so loud I couldn't believe that my windshield hadn't broken or even cracked at all. My rearview mirror snapped from the windshield and landed in the backseat. The bird's body succumbed to the aerodynamic design of my car and rolled over the top, then off to the side of the road.

Dennis and Darick started laughing insanely and calling every person in their contacts while I continued to drive in shock and horror.

I had just killed a blue heron. A priceless treasure of a bird. But to be fair, he was most definitely intoxicated, whether the remains of the alcoholic beverage he was consuming were ever found by the police or not. I hope you won't think me a bad person, although to this day I harbor a deep resentment for herons and other alcoholic waterfowl.

Why I got a dog

 

Flaming Drinks, Mud Baths, Single Fish, Scrabble History, Doggie Ice Cream, and Daddy Forbes

Oh man. Do you ever save voicemails from people just because you know it is so funny/thoughtful/whatever that you know you will want to hear it again, just not right now? I do that a lot. I'll save it and then when it is about to expire it's a pleasant surprise, like finding $5 in your pocket or in someone's pocket whose clothes you wash.

Well I do that with my gchats too. I mean they don't expire or anything, but sometimes I'll be in gmail rooting through my old emails and I'll spot a certain word or phrase that catches my eye and makes me think it might be worth reading again. Then I waste hours upon hours reminiscing about me and my hilarious friends and how much time I wasted at the Department of Labor aka DLLR (not because I was lazy or anything, I was just SUPER-EFFICIENT and got my work done super fast and therefore had way too much free time on my hands to gchat with my hilarious friends).

Come to think of it, that's probably why my blog was so great when I worked there. I had so much free time and lots of frustration to vent. Lots of stupid people to comment on, too. Oh, there was fodder galore! I guess what I wrote would be considered observational humor, and a lot of it was in the format of gmail conversations between me and co-workers about the life forms that populated my workspace. On days that I was feeling especially lazy, I would leave out much of my own commentary and just post gmail conversations that I thought were kind of funny.

I'm telling you this because I'm about to spam you with some gchats. Sorry about that.

Meredith: i'd love to meet her

Meredith: and spill a drink on her

Meredith: lthere are plenty

of other single fish in the sea  

why not go for the next best thing...

me: dating a fish

Meredith: HIS TWIN

me: oh 

Taylor: i think we should plan a girl date

we can pretend we're somewhere awesome for vacation

i mean its right next to a winery

on the water

its a resort

there are mud baths

throw yourself off the dock during low tide

me: omg.

i just used the word turd

Meredith: lol

amazing

scrabble history.

me: lol doggie ice cream?? wtf!

Sarah: you haven't seen that?

it is supposed to taste like peanut butter but it is nasty

me: ....so you tried it

Sarah: well, i had to see if it was good before i gave it to ella!

obv

Meredith: doyou want to come over tonight!

Lily and abbey and I are gonna eat panera

and watch "girl with the dragon tattoo" on TV

me: my pops is takin us to dinner

Meredith: well for fucks sake

thanks a lot daddy forbes

me: but shit when is it on

Meredith: I think it's on on demand

SO IT'S ON WHENEVER i DAMN WEL PLEASE

I hope you find these as entertaining as I did, and still do. And if not, then maybe you could spill a drink on me in the future. Just not a flaming drink.

Paint, I have rediscovered you

By Paint, I mean the paint program I had on my old laptop. I could never find an equivalent for Mac until I stumbled upon (literally AND figuratively!!)(Editor's note: That makes no sense unless you know about the site www.stumbleupon.com. You're welcome.) one of the most genuinely entertaining blogs on the planet. It is called Hyperbole and a Half. It is written by a girl named Allie who reminds me so much of myself that it is mildly creepy. I mean, she is 25, she made an Encino Man reference, she likes raptors, she is a grammar nazi, she touched my leg... what? The list goes on.

She draws a lot of pictures on her blog using a program for Mac called Paintbrush. I am so relieved that I read the FAQs on her blog because otherwise I would have never found it... because I am so damn lazy. I mean I looked for other programs and downloaded a few but they were too complicated and intimidating. I deleted them and then emptied the trash immediately so I wouldn't have time to look upon them in shame. Then I lived the rest of my life in despair until I found her blog. Seriously just read one post and I bet you will be hooked.

Anywho, her funny little pictures reawakened my inner artist... err.. computer-based artist. I drew a bunch of pictures on Paint when I worked back at the Department of Labor, but the only one I can think of off the top of my head is dedicated to rats. Robin, my lovely and amusing former co-worker, stated that we were like rats in a cage at our jobs. So I drew this for her:

See how freakin talented I was back in my heyday? So now I'm back on the wagon, and to start off I drew a picture to supplement my last post about trying to sleep in a bed meant for 2 humans, sans dog.

This is what I usually walk in and see. Dennis on the right as usual. Dexter... in my effing spot. Then if I try to move him he moans and groans like a wounded gnarwhal. On a related topic, what is a gnarwhal? It just sounded right at the time. In case you were wondering, Dennis is completely fine. That is not a an alien bursting from his shoulder; he just has a rad tattoo of a squid fighting a whale, and I gave this drawing 110% 17%. Actually I am proud of my Dexter picture and I'm surprised it turned out as nicely as it did due to the angry nature of my previous post from which this drawing is derived.

Fun fact: Don't they both look happy? Which makes it sad that the title of this picture is "sleepytime distress."