Why I hate living in the South in Winter.

I live in the south.  I don't mind it for the most part, except winter.

All summer long, I hear about how "hot" it is, and "oh god, the HUMIDITY!!" and this is always followed by the biggest LIE in the history of the South "Man I wish it would just be winter, I want SNOW!"

The truth is, they don't want snow, they're terrified of snow.  All Summer they pray to the snow god to visit and when there's a flurry suddenly drifting towards Earth, they freak out harder than Chris Angel's unsuspecting audiences on Mind Freak.

I am amazed by it.  In fact, we got a slight dusting of snow two days ago.  I literally fell to my knees and yelled "NOOOO" in the middle of work, because I KNEW what was about to happen:

1. Panic
2. Hoarding
3. EVERYONE needing to leave work before "The Roads get BAD!"

IT.WAS.FLURRIES!

Let me paint a perspective using two states...my state:

And then we'll compare it to a state that is no stranger to snow...

There's an entirely different mindset when these two states see the first snowflake.

Raddies:

 

Arkabillies:

I'm not saying there's anything WRONG with having a little fear with snow; it can cause power outages and all sorts of nasty stuff.
But with FLURRIES and you have rednecks acting like if it touches their VEHICLE that the apocalypse of fire and carnage will rain down upon them...and then they swerve off the slightly wet road into the trees...you have a problem.

Let's look at snapshots of the normal snow day here...

Here we have an Arkabilly who is so distraught over the absolutely non-existent snow outside (and to a worse extent the local news just PLAYING it up) that he has decided to end himself rather than deal with the end of days.

And here, we have an average snow day for a Raddie:

Everyone asks me "WHY do you hate snow, SO MUCH!!"

I don't hate snow!  I hate snow here!!!  It's gotten to the point, that if one more Arkabilly shrieks at me "Have you prepared for the coming snow storm??"

...I swear to God, I'm going to taser them.  I will search the internet until I find one SO illegal that it has to have some whimsical name and description, that you won't feel so bad about electrocuting the piss out of them.

^ That should do it.

They will either quickly learn of my Southern snow hating wrath, or they'll die and not have to worry about the "Snowpocalypse"

I'm serious...our local news channel on Facebook has an album dedicated to the day before yesterday called "The December Snow Event" and wants people to send in photos of "The Event"...they're first...

Don't WORRY, I'll give at least ONE verbal warning before I turn your skull into a disco ball...if you don't heed the warning though...

I mean...I know it'll never happen...so for the rest of Winter, if you see a miniature human in a store during a "snow event" who has thoughts of tasering the customer he's trying to help...be gentle, just know he's fed up with it.

If I wanted to deal with people freaking out with apocalyptic amounts of snow...I would have MOVED to Colorado in 2007 when I had the chance, or I'd still be living in Virgina. 

AT LEAST THEN when the snow was said to be coming, you knew you were going to sleep that night with a house and waking up in a snow drift.

...I need to get out of this state...

A special PSA

 There's an epidemic goin' on this world that more people need to pay attention to, and I'm here to give you a Public Service Announcement...but nobody will listen...so I've brought in an outside spokesperson to help.





That's right...she's about to ruin your whole fucking day.

Hi, I'm Sarah McLachlan, and when I'm not endorsing the ASPCA (Which Teffy got to see a giant mobile unit of, today, GO ASPCA!! Shut that puppy mill down, FINALLY!)  I'm lending my spokesperson/gut turning guilt tripping abilities to other causes.

It is fast approaching Christmas, and I'm here with a PSA to make these holidays go much quicker and in a friendlier manner.

Stop being Douchebag retailers.  Remember those people are human beings and the person before you was a douchekettle as well.  By this point, that retail employee is not ready to hear just how retarded they are, they simply don't care, they want to help you find your purchase to the best of their ability and get you out of their site.

If you come in later in the day and it is busy, they will be eyeballing you like you're part of a zombie horde and be fantasizing of which instrument would sever your head with the best result...this is why they are smiling so much even when overwhelmed.

Do not blame the retail employee, they are simply broken and worn out.

And remember, I'm Sarah McLachlan, I endorse animal rights and I'm completely against animal cruelty, but I totally condone a retail employee's right (AS THEY SHOULD HAVE) to have one open handed slap a week against customers.  Maybe if the customers knew this was a possibility, you all would behave your heathen asses.

-Sarah McLachlan

I'm in tears now, are you?  I'm totally in tears...I feel the pain, I feel the message *sniffle*

Espanol es muy mal!

There was a moment in my life, where I had a moment to where I could choose something regarding my education (for once).  See, it was my Sophomore year in high school, and they had *GASP* elective courses.


My god, are you telling me that...I can PICK some of the classes that I may go to??


It was on, like (don't be cliche here, Teff)...Donkey Kong, erm, a Hard on...dammit!


Of course, I had my main classes and such, I also threw an art class in there, a theater class (which I eventually got into the Thespian troupe with *woo*) and then it came down to it...a language course.


There used to be a plethora of options, actually...They used to teach Spanish, German, Latin, and French.  Yet, cuts and cuts and cuts, it was whittled down to German and Spanish.


I put in for German, and then there were three blank spots at the bottom for "Alternative" classes, just in case one class I had chosen wasn't available.  So I put in for Spanish, Study Hall, and Psychology.


I got my schedule and...and...WHAT??  I had Spanish and Psychology.


Apparently, German was full (after I was told 'oh don't worry, nobody takes German' )


There was one problem with this.  I had spent my entire summer vacation learning German so I could pretty much sleep through the German class...and now?  I was in SPANISH!


What was worse, is they put my twin sister into the Spanish class with me...and the teacher, sat us alphabetically!  Which meant we sat RIGHT BY each other!  This would be bad any any class, trust me...you do not let my sister and I get within 50 miles of each other, unless you are ready to handle the consequences...we feed off each other.


What made it worse was that the Spanish teacher also was my dad's English teacher, and let's just say they did not get along during his time at that school.  In fact, upon reading our last name and deducting who our father was, she remarked "I figured he'd be in jail by now!"  The hatred was mutual, as my father exclaimed when hearing who our teacher was, "That bitch is still alive??"


We made that poor woman's life a living hell.  I had absolutely no desire to learn Spanish, it is why I put in for the German class, I did want to learn German and I already had a very good understanding of German from what I had taught myself...Spanish, had no interest in it...so I goofed off.


Then my sister started goofing off with me.  


During our "Vocabulary" lessons, she'd pair us off and since I sat in front of my sister, I was paired with her (MISTAKE NUMERO UNO!)
She then gave us a marker board and said "I will say something in Spanish, everyone will write the vocabulary on their marker board and we will share"
"Wait...we can write whatever we want on this board?"
(MISTAKE NUMERO DOS!)


This set up for moments of facepalming in quantities leveling "Epic" from a teacher.
"Donde esta tu mama?"  She would coo out amongst the eager students and we'd scribble, and show our board "Subjects regarding Canada for 500"


She then asked us, coming into Spanish if we knew any Spanish at all.  I told her I only knew "Espanol es muy mal, es el Diablo"


She was not amused.


We then had to make a video for class.  A commercial, or a speech using only Spanish.


Oh there were informative videos: How to play baseball.  How to change a tire.  How to truck surf and so on.


My sister and I made a commercial called Palos y Ramitas.  We were selling a cereal called "Palos y Ramitas" which is "Sticks and Twigs".
Oh yes, it was amazing, we even had mud for milk...


When the video finished we looked amongst the students...flat faces.  Not even the teacher looked impressed.


LAME, they did not get the genius of it!!


At the end of the year, she asked me "Did you learn ANYTHING in this class?"  I told her yes, I can now say "me gusta queso"  She glared and was unhappy "The ONLY thing you learned was how to say, I like...CHEESE?"


Well, no...I also learned how to say Tengo un tigre in mis pantalones...she was absolutely NOT impressed with that answer either.


Ah well...

LANG LEBE DEUTSCH!!


....Ich habe einen tiger in mein Hose....

We Shan't speak of it again...

 I find it odd the things that happen to you during a day, that are traumatic and yet your glorious brain suddenly pushes it to the back of your skull to be forgotten, and then you read something and it pulls it back out.

I'm referring to Rusted Armour's entry. (He peed on his redbull).  And I almost didn't even say anything to him, because I mean why would you put an entry out there like that?  Right??  RIGHT??
Here's mine!

I wear gauges in my ear.  No, I'm not working my way towards a dinner plate set.  I'm not a man who's itching to have all the pieces of a dinnerware set at my disposal in my earlobes, "Ah, friend!  You need a tea saucer! *woop!* here ya go!  had one in my ear lobe!  Nah nah!  Just wash it and give it back when you can!!"

I have size 2 gauges in my ear, and for those who don't care about gauge sizes, it's about the size of my pinky finger.  I adore horseshoe barbell earrings, as they had a little metal ball on each end that screws on and prevents them from falling out of your ear.  But alas, after about 8 gauge (fairly small) they stop carrying them in stores, and you're forced into curved claw earrings or simply plugs.  Hm...lemme get you some references here.



 Circular barbell


 Claw earring (although these are fake gauges, but the shape applies)

Plugs.

Now, see those little rubber O-rings on the plugs?  I found out (in a not so pleasant way) that I'm allergic to rubber.  Not so pleasant, as in, I woke up one morning and my ears and face were covered in goo and ooze from my earlobes going nuts and pumping infection everywhere...and the ITCHING!!!

Also, the claw earrings have these rubber rings as well.  I can't find anything else in my size so I'm forced into these (I do know I can order them online but I'm so damn lazy).  They stay in my ears with fair ease without the rings so I just don't wear them.  Usually my claw earrings will snap first (I'm a rough mistress to them) and I move over to the plugs.

Mine are silver metallic solid plugs.

Some days I wake up and one has fallen out during the night in my sleep, and I'll pick it from the pillow and put it back in.   Some days I get to work, and someone will remark about how weird it is to see through my earlobe, and I'll realize the plug fell out and I didn't realize it.  Some days, I'll sit up in bed and one will be hanging on by a thread and then fall out into my lap.

And then some days are yesterday, of which the likes had never happened before, and I hope never happen again.

I awoke, and drug myself to the bathroom...bladder SCREAMING at me that I should have taken care of this when I woke up 4 hours ago (But I laid in bed and went "eh...I can wait" and went back to sleep).  I enter the bathroom, start my morning (read: very very long, very extensive, very powerful, we aren't stopping this) pee, and I feel *thump* on my shoulder as I slightly turned my head and then watched and listened in horror as my ear plug went *plink* on the toilet seat and then *SPLOOSH* into the toilet.
And I couldn't stop peeing.  And there I was, staring betwixt stream of pee and rapidly deteriorating water quality to my plug fast sinking to the bottom of the bowl...and all I could do was let out a "uuuuunnnnggghhhh...NNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" and start crying.

(I'm never in the most stable of moods when I first wake up)

After finishing my business, I stood and stared into the bowl for a good few minutes.  I don't have enough money to buy a new plug right now, and my ear would definitely close up before I could replace it.  I could put in an older, smaller gauge, but then my ears would be uneven.  Also, if I flush the plug, would it get caught up somewhere and later come back to haunt me as a sewer nightmare??

I pawed at it with my toilet bowl brush...no dice...it was too heavy.  I suddenly remembered Julie left latex gloves here for cleaning, and I took off and grabbed a pair.  A PAIR!!  Was I about to go two hands deep into this toilet bowl?  Was I about to give this toilet a grabbing, the likes of which it's never seen before??
NO!  Fuck sake, keep up here, I put both gloves on one hand, need extra protection...putting my hand into a pee swamp here, ugh.

And I plunged into the vast depths of the swamp of sorrow and fished my ear plug out, promptly hurled it into the sink, and ripped the gloves off and into the trash can.

I then scrubbed the ear plug, with soap, then soaked it in alcohol, and then boiled it in a pan for about 10 minutes.

I still felt dirty all day.

AND IT WAS LIKE EVERYONE SUBLIMINALLY KNEW!  One woman randomly said "oh, are your earrings magnets?"  I said "oh haha no, they're metal plugs"  She said "oh they look like magnets!!" and TOUCHED THE PEE ONE!!

And my brain is screaming "OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!!"  All day, people kept touching my pee earring and commenting on my earrings...*cough* I wanted to die *wheeze* *panic*

So I did what any self respecting person would do.

I mean in this sense that I can't know which one is the pee earring, it's doing my anxiety in.  I came home and took both plugs out, put them in my hands and shook them around like dice without looking, and then just put them back in my ears.

EEE...I'm so confused now!

We shan't ever speak of it again...

A FACE! And a story! and...*zzz*

I make vlogs sometimes (ok, a lot...) I'll start putting some here (might as well do something with this space on a regular basis!)
Enjoooooooy a story of my ....simpler...brain.
Also, while jacked up on coffee...and being attacked by a June Bug *shudders*

Teffy's Picture Guide to cutting your hair!

There comes a time, when you must trim your hair.  In my case, it was weeks after getting a "faux hawk" My hair was already unruly and long, and the man who cut my hair simply cut the back and sides, leaving nothing touched on top.  I knew this day would come, so I figured I would lay out a step by step guide (with pictures) on how to cut your hair.

Step 1:  Recognize that your hair has gotten out of control.

 

Step 2: Wet hair and brush it out to gauge seriousness of problem.

 

(This face means that it is a serious problem.  If you make this face, continue to step three)

Step 3: Cry, and continue to step 4.  (No picture available...Teffy's don't cry)

Step 4: Dry your hair and be amazed at the physics defying stunts it can pull, that you can never pull off with gel.

Step 4a:  Have a momentary realization that it resembles A Flock of Seagulls hair-do.

 

Step 5: Thoroughly brush your hair out with a comb, to remove all tangles and to make easier to cut.

 

Step 5a:  Come to sudden unsettling realization, you resemble Crispin Glover.

Step 6: Say goodbye to your old hair.

Step 7:  Befriend a pair of scissors.

(we don't trust each other, he knows I'll rust him at the first chance...I know he'll stab me when I'm not looking...but we must get the job done.)

Step 8: Cut hair with wild abandon.

Step 9: Survey mess you have made.

(This also was only 1/4 of the way through, the end result was just too terrifying to post online)

During the cutting of hair, and before the surveying of destruction, it is widely known that you will lose your shirt.  Some Shamans credit this to the wild nature and spiritualistic sacrifice in cutting your own hair.  From my observations, this came as a direct result of hair going down my shirt and that shit itches...

Step 10: Survey new hair-scape for any faults

 

Step 11: Wash hair with shampoo.

(It should be noted that Teffy does not endorse the eating of shampoo, but this crap smells so good, it almost happened....well...it actually may have, but the picture doesn't show that now, does it?  DOES IT???)

Step 11a.  Realize you've used too much shampoo.

 

(This will happen...every...single...time...)

Congratulations!  With these few, very simple, easy to follow steps, you will be cutting your hair in no time!

Teffy approved!

Carwashes lead to idiocy

So here's the thing, the other night at the carwash, I cleaned my car out a little bit.


I drive an Aztek



Ohhh yeh, look at that baby.  It's a "Camping Vehicle"





That's right...you can make a tent out of it!

Unfortunately...mine is green.

Let me tell you how rare the Green Aztek is.  I once pulled into CiCis and was suddenly surrounded by a Red, a Yellow, and an Orange Aztek.  They were shortly joined by more which were white, black, maroon, and blue.

Apparently, there is a "Pontiac Aztek Appreciation Club"  They took photos of my beat up UFO-Tek (as I call it) because they had "never seen a green one before."

So I googled it, and came up with only a few pictures before it went straight to "UHHM I can't find anymore green...here's yellow!"




It's not even that remotely "cool" looking either.  No...see that's a bright, vibrant green. 

And I don't understand why the driver of that car did so much WORK to make that thing look...MORE like a UFO when the green ones just kinda scream UFO anyway.





That...green...  Think it's just an unflattering Angle?



Nah, it's just kinda ugly all around.

I adore/HATE my Aztek.

Adore because it's really an awesome car.  I hate it because when they made them they completely changed the product from the original concept.



Still looks like a UFO...but...uuaah! I like that!

They changed the entire layout, but did nothing else to the INNER workings of the car.  So anyone with an Aztek, dreadfully knows the words "Disco Effect"

See, they all have faulty Body Control Modules.  The BCM controls everything electrical in the car, thus creating electrical problems, until they all mount up into a "Disco Effect" where the lights are strobing and the horn is honking, and the locks lock/unlock in a particular pulse...simply because the BCM cannot control the electrical equipment.  I've been on the receiving end of a disco effect, and let me tell you, driving 20 minutes in the dark, with dinging and *Click*click*click* pulsing and lights strobing is NOT ideal and CAN get you pulled over.

Problem 2?  You replace the BCM, but the only BCM is the same one...so eventually...it's gonna happen again.  Mine's starting to do it again, hence the brake light going off at random and just dinging.

Although, I just found out that while I spent $800 getting it repaired (and also just found out the bastards put a used one in it, because that's what causes the radio to lock itself).  You can replace it for $145.  I was thinking it was some epic horrible journey under the hood, it turns out, that you just have to move the console back, remove the ice chest--

What? remove the ice chest???

Oh yeah, Azteks don't have a center console, they have an empty spot for a removable ice chest.



Camping vehicle and such.  Anyway, you just take that out and pull back and it pulls forward like an awesome file cabinet and BOOM there's the BCM, there's three wires you unhook, unlatch it, and hook in the new one.

Teffy's got this when this one bites the dust!

My entire point to the start of this entry is that since it's a "Camping" vehicle, and it has that nifty little ice chest, there lies a problem if you don't put it in the car.

Or you get the car second-hand and it doesn't even have one.

There's a CONSIDERABLE gap of NOTHING.

I can't find a picture without it...dear god, let me go take a picture of mine.  Warning, my car is DISGUSTING, but you'll get the idea.

no...no...never mind...I'm not sharing it.  Anyway, it's a 2 1/2 foot gap, left to right. 

Now, me being the lazy slob that I am, stuff just got STUFFED into that open spot.  Extra bottle of motor oil? eh, toss it right there in the middle.  Empty cigarette packs? Toss it right there, I'll get them later (which I did finally and is what this entry is leading into).  I just don't clean my car out...ever.

The problem came during winter, that I'd wear a hoodie outside and take it off in the car, and leave it in the middle console area.  Then wear another one out next time, and do the same.

To the point, all my hoodies were in the car (A LOT of them, we're not talking 4 or 5 here, I live in hoodies in the winter) and made this nice comfy heap in the middle.  I kinda liked that.  Heck, I wasn't using them right now, it's too hot.  And I can kinda rest my arm on it and not have some gaping void trying to suck me down into the "Floor Nether" area.

So I ended up at a car wash the other night for 30 minutes (FO know why) but the quick run down effort is that I kinda pulled a movie move there where the one person does the implausible and goes somewhere and tells the person they're madly in love with to meet them there in X amount of time, so that they can hug and kiss and blah blah blah and the credits roll.

But it totally didn't even work out, so I've switched from a whole "Serendipity" attitude towards life, and right into "Fight Club" about things.

Well, while I was waiting (for my heart to get ripped out and stomped into the pavement) I had a moment of "I'm sitting at a carwash...and this car is filthy...might as well throw some of the trash away!"

Upon my cleaning, I discovered that HOLY SHIT my car is FILTHY!!!  I mean, there used to be kids in it all the time, so there was the typical coke spilled everywhere, syrup puddles and shit.  Stuff I just never took care of (because I really don't care, plus if ants are spending their lives getting in my car and dying from heat, that's better than them getting my house again...I know...I'm a weirdo...it's ok.).  But now there was cigarette cellophanes stuck in the syrup, half shut (once) half full Mtn Dew bottles that leaked and made stalagmites in the floor.

And I saw all this carnage and destruction and went "uuughh...I really don't want to clean that up"

So I didn't (I'll get to it eventually...plus...it's for the ants...really). 

Instead I picked up all the trash in the floor boards and seat (4 walmart bags worth...but even though that sounds a lot...most of it was mtn dew bottles, and you can't really get that many crammed into a bag compared to normal paper trash.)

And then saw the console.  Ew I bet there was a lot of trash in there!  I started grabbing the hoodies and sitting them in the back (I have no room from front seats to the back, bunch of wood, an hope chest and a headboard are back there).  Just tossing hoodie after hoodie on this already monster pile of fuckery in the back.

JACKPOT! more mtn dew bottles, a quart of oil (OH THAT'S WHERE IT WENT!!!), a half full jug of anti-freeze *glares at new jug of antifreeze in the floor board....DAMMIT*, Trash trash trash galore.

In fact, let me break it down.  There's open little notches on either side of my steering column to sit stuff in.  On the right, I always put my MP3 player, my cigarettes and my cellphone, on top of each other...so you can gauge the size.  Not very big, but perfectly convenient and out of my pockets and in reach while driving.
The left one, I got into the habit of tossing Mtn Dew lids in, so I could grab it out when I got out of the car without losing my lid.  the problem is, I usually finished the drinks and sat the empty bottle down and left the lids

The lids, eventually started falling off into the floor board.  So, HAHAH here we go, get ready to go "THE FUCK, TEFFY?!"  Imagine a two handed scoop, like you're scooping up snow to make a snow ball with...ok...got it?

To get all the caps out of that notch and floor board, it took 5 trips, double handed scoop of mtn dew lids.
I know, I'm a disgusting animal!  In fact I'm staring at 5 empty cigarette packs right now all chillin in a tower...I should throw those away.

I did...it's ok now.

The entiiiiire point of all this babbling is to just simply tell a short tale of what happened to me a little bit ago as I got into my car.

(and you all go "oh god, really?"  Yes...and I assure you, all this explanation is leading to something so anticlimactic)

I go to get into the car, jump in and lean to the right (as usual so I can get my keys out of my left pocket) and almost literally launch myself into the floor.

Why?  Because there was no giant pile of hoodies there to grab me as usual and I didn't realize I had become accustomed to it holding up EVERY SHRED OF MY HURTLING BODY WEIGHT as I swing over to get keys out!

Now that's not the worst part.  I managed to stop the fall (with my face...into the gear shifter...epic nosebleed FTW...speaking of, I need to throw that tissue away as well...Ok...done), and sat up in a absolute state of bewilderment. 

And stared at this empty 2 1/2 foot gap, for at least 30 seconds with a genuine "wtf??" look on my face.  Looked by my steering column, and there was my MP3 player, back to the gaping hole, to the passenger seat, laptop, back to the gaping hole, to the empty floorboard, bigger "WTF??" face, and bellowed out "SOMEONE STOLE MY HOODIES?!?!??!!!"

Yes, in that moment my brain thought it was completely rational to let me know that somebody had broken into my car, and skipped not only over a laptop and an MP3 player but specifically targeted my hoodies for theft.

I never think to look in the back behind my or the passenger seats, because all that is there is wood and a hope chest and a bed frame.

SO I LITERALLY sat there in my car...in shock...trying to think where the hoodies were.  Got out, went to the passenger door, and opened it quickly and looked in the empty floor, and up under the seat...as if 30+ hoodies could accidentally scoot up under there or something.

Stood up, and saw a yellow reflection in the passenger window, and looked behind the passenger seat and saw a little yellow sleeve poking out, OOOOHHH there's my hoodies!!!

*moment of pause*
*remembers the car wash*
*realizes you think someone breaks into your car with the sole purpose of stealing only hoodies*
*FACEPALM!*
*realizes your facepalm has now splattered blood from your bleeding nose everywhere*
*RGUUUGGHHH*

30 minutes, a change of clothes, and practically WILLING a gushing nose to stop bleeding, I made it to the gas station (and it only takes 3 minutes to get there) only to realize when I changed my bloody clothes...I forgot my wallet.

WHY IS THERE NO GOD!!!

hahaha

So yeah, that was my little misadventure today...with way too much explanation before hand.
Suck on it, you loved it anyway.
And now, after 4 days of no eating, I think I shall have a taquito.  I'm still not very hungry but my body's going "dude...maybe you should eat?"
So I'm gonna do that.

On being stabbed in the ass.

It should be heavily noted that I hate doctors.

A lot.

So much, in fact, that last Memorial Day, MoonGoddess had to literally drag my near-dead self into a doctor's office...twice.

See, after talking me into going into the doctor for 20 minutes, I peacefully got out of the car and walked inside the lobby.  She gently nudged me towards the counter, I broke out in tears, and took off running outside back to the car.

I was then taken back inside and put in a chair. Hence the earlier blog post in this about the Ativan.

So here's the deal. About 2 or so weeks ago, I woke up with a bump on the waist of my pants, right at the top of my right butt cheek

I know...how sexy.

I figured the normal run of the mill "Livin' in the South" things: Mosquito, Possible tick bite, maybe a flea?

But then it got worse, bigger, uglier, ouchier.  People started whispering "Are you sure it wasn't a spider?"

Hold up, you guys already know my undying hate for spiders.  That was the LAST thing that should have been whispered to me.  I suddenly had horrible visions of my left butt cheek rotting away and me trying to sit down, only to flop off a seat and burst into tears...destroyed by my lack of balance.

I envisioned myself alone in an ass cheek prosthetic store, trying on falsies so that I might one day lead a 'normal' life.  A life where I could sit with no fear.

I had already accepted my fate.

At one point it got bad enough, that I thought I was going to pass out, I got ill, very...very quickly.  It went from "unidentified bump on ass" to "unidentified bump on ass and now all the lymph glands in my groin are swollen...I can't move my leg...or lay down...or get comfortable.  And GOD it got hot in here, and I'm sweaty, and ....and I can't see straight..."

Off to the doctor I went...alone.

Same doctor, with one difference.  My nurse, turned out to be a friend of mine.

INSTA-RELIEF!
(I thought)

Oh the BS'ing was instant, kicking it off and chit chatting...she took a look at it and asked if it could be staph.  Hm didn't think of that, but nah it was a bug bite.

Nope...it was an abscess.  An infection, and it had moved through to my lymph glands in under a day.
The doctor came in and was concerned about how fast it had moved, and said it was too small to drain, so I had to get a round of antibiotics...fast.

She said to me "The good news is, I don't have to drain it.  The bad news is, you gotta get a shot."

And in my bravado I said "HA!  A shot!  That's not too bad!"

Until my friend walked back in with TWO syringes.

(quick back story:  I hate shots more than I hate spiders...and doctors...COMBINED!  I used to never have a problem with shots, until I was getting blood drawn for a H. Pylori test [which I had].  Both my sisters remained quiet as their blood was drawn, and as I sat down, my little [EVIL] sister goes "oh my god, did you see the needle?  It's huuuuuuge...man that's gonna HURT!!  Don't look!  Oh here it comes!"  *lady sticks it in my arm* "OMG can you FEEL that!! I bet you can!  Oh my god I bet it like hurts SO BAD!!"  I was ruined.  Now when  a needle gets near me...I hear her and I FLIP OUT!)

My friend already knew I'd flip out so she did the kind thing and put HUGE ASS FUCKING NEEDLES ON IT So that she could get the shot in...QUICK.

I quizzed her, what was the gauge, what was the length?  All answered with "I'm not telling you that."

I tried for close to ...I want to say 45 minutes to talk her out of giving me the shots...I reaaallly tried.  She finally told me that the needles were big, and she had to do two shots b/c the dose couldn't be put into one muscle.  So I begged, one in each arm.

My arm muscles...not big enough.  Must go in biggest muscle of my body.

...my ass.

I BEGGED her, put them in the already hurt side.  She then reminded me "TWO.SEPARATE.MUSCLES!"  To which I almost screamed back "YOU GOTTA STICK BOTH SIDES OF MY ASS?!"

Yes...yes she did.

Now...I said I was friends with her.  But we don't have that type of friendship where "I'm gonna change real quick"
"Ok no problem, I'll just sit on the bed here...oh nice underwear!"
"Thanks! Got it on sale!"

So I went from ungodly anxious to her saying "Ok, pull down your pants" first off when she came in the room.

Yes, I argued and begged her not to stick me for almost 45 minutes with my pants halfway down.

We have a special bond now.   And what other person can say their friend stuck them with two gigantor needles in each ass cheek?

(Other than heroin addicts running out of options, I suppose)

It honestly was not as bad as I was thinking it would be.  It's amazing what the human mind can do.

I hobbled out of there, angry, hurting, and knew I had to drive (oh yeah that was FUN) and then the woman at the desk told me that there's no copay because I have insurance now and they pick up the entire visit.

Oh?

YAY DOCTORS!!!!

The Ocean

The waves were crashing at my feet.  How did I get here?  It's been so long since I've been to the ocean.    Sometimes, when a strong wind blows up from The Gulf, even as far as I am away, I can smell the salt in the air.  It brings an instant smile to my face and a soothing feeling to everything inside of me.  Sometimes, the Seagulls come far enough north that I stand outside, looking towards the clouds and watch them circle the parking lot, and I'm lost, I'm back at Virgina Beach, listening to them and watching them circle for fries or any goody left out.

This isn't Virgina Beach

There's a distinct lack of color....it is definitely sunset, but no color to be seen. Black and White? I finally look out, and things slow almost to a standstill.  Almost like we had fallen into one of those children's toys.  The gel solution that freezes time, and you carefully place small objects in it and create a moment.  I looked to my hands, and then see myself looking at my hands.

I'm dreaming.  I watch myself look into the sunset again, then back to my hands and then around.  I look to me who is watching and I smile.  I'm back in my body.

Why am I here?  I hear a laugh and look out into the slowly crashing waves.  A small girl runs up to me and knocks me over into the shallows, little floaties on her arms.  I grab her and stand up and yell yar! I'm a big sea dragon!  And I'm going to eat you!  She giggles and wriggles around and tries to get away not so fast little fishie!  I love little fishies the most! rrraawrrr!  I hold her a moment longer, tickling and blowing a raspberry before letting her go Oh no!  The little fishie got away! I feign defeat as she runs away laughing, back into the surf.

What am I doing here?

The surf is frothy and constant.  I take a couple of steps out I bet I get stung by a Jelly fish. The wind is cool and full of salt, my smile is beginning to ache my jaw.

A wave, a bit bigger from the rest, comes in and catches me off guard and knocks me on my back.  I'm not used to waves anymore.

There's a method.

From the water she comes and jogs up to me with a grin from ear to ear and a laugh that is contagious enough that I laugh at my own spill.

That's how I got here.  She holds out her hand to help me up and I shake my head and lay back in the surf as a small wave covers me.  The sand stirs all around me.  Reshaping the earth, now different than it was a few seconds ago.  As the wave recedes slowly, I feel hands in the sand, either side of me.  I open my eyes as the wave leaves and she is over me.

Her smile is bigger now, her hair messily spilled everywhere in front of her face.  Small water droplets, catching the sun little crystals and dripping onto me.

This makes no sense...why?

Face to face with mirroring smiles, she simply says "...silly" right before her lips meet mine.
definitely dreaming

I never see the ending, the kiss triggers a flash that wakes me...every night.  I've never dreamt in black and white and haven't since.  Except that one.

Now the question, is the dream the past...or hopefully the future?

_{upon 2nd, 3rd, and 4th thought, I had to use the same song.  Hope you don't mind.}

Cimmerian

At what point do I wake up and make a snap realization that the world around me is unraveling.

This is no cry for help, it is realization.

And to bury it all under wet molded dirt, and tell it to die.  Make sure it stays down in the depths of hell where it belongs.  There's eccentricities abound that are taking me down and can't be bothered to be found, I fear to be bound.

I half expect some days to wake up and watch the fabric of the universe unravel around me, and that's okay in my book.
S'all I ever needed n wanted, a challenge.  Should I find a travel companion and take off into the unknown, let it be known...I call the dark personality.

Right now I look around and it's the same damn day, man, just sometimes it is light outside, sometimes it is dark.  And I float like a ghost, chained by my moral to do good and right.

I don't want to do good nor right....I want to be your fear.  I want to be that uncertainty that makes you think, question yourself...your logic...everything you ever held in your head...I want it to be questioned.  I want to be the bad guy here and challenge what you might call your morals.  It is tempting, is it not?

There can be good, and there is so much good in the fucking dirt in which we colonize and set up rules and parameters.  Break those rules, destroy what is 'right'.  Kick that god damned wall out from in front of you and start kicking ass.

It is tempting...isn't it...

I want to be everything....and everything it encompasses...everything that is bad for you.

Can you feel the good Lord tugging at your heart strings? he asked from the pulpit

That's not the good lord.  It was me trying to get out.

The Amazing Insomniac Adventure.

This was previously posted on another site, and got "Reader's Choice".  Enjoy.

As a precursor to this entry, there is always a back story as to what brought this situation about.  Last May, a little after my birthday, I had some not so great things come up in my life, that put me into a mental tail spin.  I ended up quite sick, and was taken to a doctor who determined that 'due to my circumstances' I needed to be treated for depression and insomnia.  The depression part I understood, as I did feel a bit lower that manure under a cow at that moment.  The insomnia bit, I didn't understand at all.  Yeah, I stayed up late and so forth, but I wasn't an insomniac.  I was given a pill called Ativan, thus bringing this little journey about.  It should also be noted, I no longer take any of the medications, and I'm back to full fledged insomnia (which is where you lovely readers get my late night ramblings from!  So rejoice!)

---------------

When the doctor walked into the room and told me she was prescribing this pill called "Ativan" for my "Anxiety".  Sure, no problem, I've always dealt with a fairly substantial amount of anxiety.  When I filled my prescription and looked at the bottle, it listed in order for treatment "Insomnia/Anxiety"

In the middle of the Wal-Mart pharmacy, I bellowed to the Heavens, "Insomnia?! HA! HA-HA-HA!"

This shit makes you sleepy.

Not sleepy, like when you take a medicine and then read the bottle and it warns "Don't take this medicine and drive that car, you'll CRASH!"  and you take it anyway, go on and drive and gloat to yourself, "Pffft, I'm so above this crap.  I took it and I'm driving...I'm the beast of all human creatures!"

No, it is totally not like that.  I took it the first night, and heard the doctor's voice echo inside my head (very Obi Wan like) "Make suuuuure you're ready to goooo to bed.   It acts very quiiiicklllyyy."  I threw a tiny little pill in my mouth and scoffed out "pusshaaaw, onto YouTube!"

I want to say it was 10 minutes later (hell, it could have been less), I was hit with the most hideous feeling ever...what the HELL was that??  It was like faeries, NAY, evil goblin troll things made of pure lead and evil, grasped me by my eyelids and were pulling them down.  "w...wtf..." I stammered out.

No!  I wasn't READY yet!  I had so much random internet surfing to do!!

I admitted defeat and slid into bed.
Omg...the bed..

The bed, does not have wooden slats on it, it sinks down in the middle, and there's this phantom spring that no matter WHERE you are in the bed, it finds your hip bone and goes "CAMP!  Set it up here, boys!" and it grinds away at your bone and soul.  It steals whatever happiness you might have towards beds away.

Seriously, remember in Sailor Moon...when Kaedite is stealing people's energy for Queen Behryl, and all the people that come to happy fun Dreamland, and (stupidly) ate the cake suddenly have shadowy fog coming from their bodies, and they fall helplessly into the floor, unable to move?  Because ALL their energy is being sucked into the crazy Princess woman's apple? 

That is EXACTLY what the bed does to you.  But no candy or cake...or cute automated tigers...or bears.

And definitely no Sailor Moon :(

But the bed that night?  It was made of pure happiness and gold.  That phantom spring?  That was extra support for my hip...it felt...so amazing, so...THERE, it was MEANT to be there, like a small hand holding the lower part of my body saying, "It is ok.  I've got you, go to sleep, sweet prince."

The pillow...that's like 50 million years old?  The pillow that if I cut it open, I'm sure only dust and one of the dead sea scrolls would come out instead of cotton?  The one that becomes nothing as soon as your head hits it?  In fact, the stuffing inside has this weird head phobia...it wants nothing to do with people sleeping on it.  You touch it, and it splits to either side of your head, creating a set of afro sized ear muffs.

THAT Pillow??  Felt like an Egyptian pillow of amazing under my skull.  It wasn't afraid of me, it was wrapping it's arms around me and cradling my neck. 
"Dearest, sweetest Teffy." it whispered out, "I'll cradle your neck and create afro sized ear muffs to drown out any sound for you."
"My god, thank you, pillow...you are truly amazing."
"Never a problem, my amazing prince...now..give me your debit card PIN."

And in my state of stupor, I almost did it, but sleep grabbed me so fast.  No lying there wondering what tomorrow would bring, no tenseness...just...uninterrupted sleep.

I awoke the next morning feeling of a million bucks.

literally, like a herd of magnificient huge horned bucks.  Absolutely not the metaphor you thought I was going for did you?  A million of Bambi's dad...THAT awesome.

 My whole day drifted, I was on cloud nine, I was in limbo.  Not quite awake enough to care, yet not tired enough to want to sleep.

Oh.My.God, I wanted more.  I hurried home that night and waited anxiously for 9 o'clock to roll around.  *BOOM!* pill time!  And this time, it was more magnificent.  I expected it, I actually crawled out into the land of rainbows and unicorns.  I played in the fields of promises of good dreams and lollipops.  And when I hit the bed...stars...beautiful stars and butterflies flew from the blankets and danced around me.

About five days in, I realized "oh hey, there's only 15 pills in this bottle."  Then I heard the doctor's voice chime in again, "We'll give you this to get started and see how it goes, just come back in about two weeks and we'll adjust it."

Not a problem, I don't suffer from insomnia.  I went two nights without taking it, because I genuinely felt tired.  Biggest mistake ever, I couldn't fall asleep to save my life.

I casually mentioned to MoonGoddes that I needed to go back to the doctor soon so I could get a refill.  I also noticed something horrible, after about 10 pills, the magic wasn't there.  I got groggy and laid down, but the thoughts started racing.  The bed?  It...it was uncomfortable again, I woke up all night again.  I was such a grouch at work.


Ohhhh, that's what she meant by "Adjusting it."

The same day I mentioned I needed to go back to get the refill, I got a bill in the mail from the clinic.  A BILL!  I paid in full whilst I was there, and here they are saying I never paid at all. 
"Well, at least you used your debit card, right?"  Said MoonGoddess with a smile on her face, "Just get a transaction statement and show that to them."
"I paid in fricken cash..."

You would have thought somebody set a bag of kittens on fire in front of her with that statement, the way her face twisted around as she said back quite pleadingly, "please...pleeassee tell me you still have the receipt"

I'm notoriously awful about not keeping receipts.  Like, reaaalllly awful.  It could say on the bottom: "HOLD ONTO THIS RECEIPT FOR 5 DAYS AND YOU WILL GET FIVE TRILLION DOLLARS!"aaannddddd I'd probably lose it/throw it away in about two.  But I DID find it after HOURS of searching!

The problem is, I'm now stuck in an in between stage.  I'm not alert enough to watch a movie, or god forbid wash the dishes (That are now an impressive mountain and I'm sure that's a civilization starting on the South side over there.) or even watch anything on YouTube.  I'm just...HERE.

And then it hit me, dammit...I have insomnia. 

Now that I think of it...where DID I put that receipt after I found it?

....

....NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Who hired that clown?!

I've been catching a lot of flak lately over my unnatural fear of clowns.

Let me break it down for you.

• Picture of clowns = Ok (my mom had a Mr. Bojangles clown painting...loved it)
• Ronald McDonald = 50% ok
• Clown figurines = -100% NOT ok
• Clown in real life = -10000000% NOT ok

And here is why...

Clowns are supposed to be jovial drunks (hence the red nose) who stumble about and are fools. I can deal with that. For no reason, I had this moment of "WTF!" when I realized that you can't distinguish facial features. This fear was not brought on in my younger years, no...it fully developed in my late teens for no reason what so ever.

And if anyone says it's because of the movie "IT", stop right there, I've never seen that movie.

So imagine if Charles Manson broke out of prison tomorrow and then put on a clown get up. Hell, he could be standing by a "MOST WANTED" poster of himself and you wouldn't know it was him because his face is all painted, and he's wearing a big poofy fro.

I've tried to quell this aversion to clowns, trust me, I have. I've told myself over and over that clowns are people too (even though that balloon Uzi probably is real).

At one point in my life, My mom, two sisters and I, moved into a 3 bedroom house. My sister and I shared a room and our youngest sister got her own room. She had this shelf on the wall and guess what? She collected clown figurines, and not only cute jovial clown figurines, she collected clown figurines that I SWEAR the eyes followed you through her room.

At one point, we switched rooms and I got my own room, yet...the shelf stayed in there. I kept asking them to take it out, but they always said "ooooh there's so many figurines and the shelf is soooo heavy, just leave it up, it's not hurting anything."

OH but it WAS!

Every night I went to sleep under the ogling and nefarious gaze of 100 little painted clown eyes, until one night, riiiiight as I was on the verge of a deep sleep...*BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAM*

The ENTIRE shelf fell off the wall and catapulted clowns at me.

Now, they tried to tell me that the walls were thin and the weight of the shelf MUST have finally made the screws come loose from the wall,
But I knew...
...it was the clowns.

I gleefully went about my life, thinking "eh" about clowns until one day, while at my work (at an amusement park) I was opening the games for the day.

The sun was shining, and the air was perfect. Just crisp enough that you might need a jacket, but enough sun that it kept you warm...pure perfection. I had opened a game called "Duck Pond" and had just released 20 some odd little rubber duckies with sunglasses on them to swim eternally in a circle.

Life was good.

I walked towards the downhill area of the park, gleefully gazing into the distance and taking in the absolutely PERFECT weather (did I mention this day was PERFECT?!), when all of a sudden *squish*.

Not like "ewwww I stepped on something" squish, but "OH man! I stepped on something/someone/animal" squish. I figured a towel or a shoe had been left behind in the path and I had accidentally stepped on it, so I broke my gaze (and all of this happened in about .002 seconds) and looked down...

To a...big red shoe?

"WELL OW-OW-OW HA HA HA!!!" came this booming voice, punctuated with a *HONK*HONK* from a bike horn, and I turned and was face to face with a clown.

I was later told that it "Bozo" the clown, although it wasn't technically "Bozo" it was our state's 'version' of Bozo, and he was there in the park doing a children's event.

I should have laughed, or played it off or something. But instantly, everything in my life came up...because I was FACE TO FRICKEN FACE with a clown and my first thought was "you stepped on his foot, he's going to kill you and nobody knows what he really looks like!"

"WHY HI THERE *HONK*HONK* I'm Bozo!"
"o_O.......................AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!! *runs away*"

That's right. 19 years old, and I ran away screaming like a toddler. And I didn't stop screaming when he was out of site, either. I screamed all the way across the park, and into the compound where the employees stayed, I screamed up that hill too, I screamed until I hit the guard shack gate and was clamoring trying to get out.

although, you can't just "get out" you had to swipe your employee badge for the gate to unlock, but there was NO time for that during massive panic.

I was eventually surrounded by a few of the managers, and talked down from climbing the fence while still in a high pitch wailing session. My boss assured me, that I would be kept away from the clown, and she would see to it, that my schedule did not coincide with the clown's schedule...meaning I wouldn't turn around buying a corn dog, and painted mass murderer was standing behind me or anything.

I thought that was awfully kind of her, but I forgot that she was delightfully evil and locked my fear of clowns away in the back of her mind and it would come back later to haunt me (literally).

She told me I handled the situation well, my run-in with Bozo. I told her I was almost 20, I shouldn't be scared of clowns. She said back to me "you handled it better than Leslie, and she's almost 40." I looked over to another manager, who was in a ball against the building, rocking back and forth crying and muttering through sobs "nobody told me there was going to be a clown here, why is there a clown here?!?! Who hired that clown?!??!!"

Ok, so at least I'm not that bad.

In ending this entry, I'll share her evil pay off to my unbelievably unrealistic fear of clowns.

See, she was the type of boss, that if you said "I don't like doing this" you ended up doing it for a month, because she would always say "you love doing it, you just don't know it yet."

Halloween came, and she asked me to work. I said sure, thinking I was going to be running a game (since that was my job). I was informed that I was going to be in the haunted house. There was a gag where there is a 'body' on the table and a mad scientist cutting up the body. I was to be tied up, and when groups of people came by, I had to start screaming "help me!" because I was next.

Blah blah blah, typical low budget gag.

They get me all tied up, and the guy walks in who's the mad scientist and we get to chatting (which, it's kind of awkward to carry on a casual conversation with a mad scientist when you're tied to a giant beam). My boss came through and said "Did they really tie you up?"
"Yeah, it's kinda nice, I don't have to like hold my arms up all night, they're just there"
"So you can't get out or anything?"
"No I can't move at all, so don't forget me at the end of the night haha"

The most WICKED grin came across her face and she said "GOOD!" and had the mad scientist leave. He was then replaced by an EVIL CLOWN COVERED IN BLOOD!
WITH A MACHETE!!!!!!

"WHAT IS THIS?!"
"You think you hate clowns"
"I KNOW I HATE CLOWNS!!"
"WELL THEN! This will give you a valid reason to hate them!! have fun!"

Oh the people loved it, "wow this is SO realistic!"

I literally screamed for my life the entire night. And it didn't stop at "Help me!" I was pleading with people:
"HEY! HEY! HELP ME! GET ME DOWN!!! PLEASE THE CLOWN IS GOING TO KILL ME!! I'LL DO ANYTHING! I'LL CLEAN YOUR CAR!!!"
"HEY MAN!!! YOU GOT CATS?! I GROOM THEM! I'LL CLEAN LITTER BOXES!! PLEASE!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"

Ahh...god, I'm so tense right now...

Spiders are fucking scary, OK?

Creepy, eight legged, million eyed, hairy suckers. Yes. Spiders.

As a slight precursor to this entry, I must state that there might...nay...there WILL be a bit of cussing, as spiders themselves bring out the worst in me.

Here is where genetics and stereotypes have gone horribly wrong. Girls are expected to freak out over spiders and scream and run away. I am handed a shoe (or sometimes less) and told to "KILL IT!"

Because I am a boy. Boys were put on the Earth for ONE PURPOSE and that ONE PURPOSE is to KILLLLLL THEEE SPIIIIDERRRR *EEEEEEE*

I've had it up to my eyeballs with this notion because I will lay my masculinity on the line here and throw this out.

I...HATE...SPIDERS! They freak me out, man!!!

I used to not care, at all. Hell, I'd kill a spider. I'd scoop one up in a cup and set it free. I once walked down the block to my friend's house as she flipped out over the phone, because she had gone outside and when she turned around there was a tarantula between her and her door. I went up, stepped over the tarantula, went inside and got a shoe box, captured the critter, and took him home.

Whatever, man...it's a bug.

Until one night, in a room full of girls, I just had to ask, "Seriously, what IS it about spiders that TERRIFY you?"

And thus got my brain scrambled and forever changed

"they have millions of eyes!"
"8 legs!"
"You NEVER see them coming!"
"They're fast! You can't catch them!"
"You go to smash them and they run off!"
"They blend in with the carpet!!"
"They hide in the door frames!"
"They build webs under your bed!"
"They're EVERYWHERE and you NEVER see them!"
"Some are as big as your head!"
What?
"YOUR HEAD!! There are HUGE spiders! The size of DISH PLATES!"
Dish plates? Nu uh.

They then proceeded to start Googling the most ferocious spiders in the WORLD and show them to me, along with videos, and photos of spider bites.

You know when someone starts talking about their kids getting head lice, and it starts the whole "Oh I've been there" conversation, and you're giving advice and suddenly your hair is just CRAWLING?

Yeah, suddenly I felt the stab of a trillion beady little eyes from every surface in the room. It was the spiders, they were coming for me.

For the longest, I would tell people "It's just the small ones that scare me. Those little clear or clear green ones. Tiny ones you can't see coming. If one is going to come right out in front of me, I want to SEE it."

Fatal Mistake.

It should be noted I'm still cool with tarantulas. I have one that has been digging a hole under my trashcan outside now for AAAGEEESS. Whatever, hairy critter, dig a hole.

One fatal night, I was at my computer, and MoonGoddess sat beside me on hers. Our desks were side by side (sort of like a computer lab, but no Oregon Trail :( )

Now, I have no clue as to why one entire wall in the bedroom has a GIANT mirror over it, really...one ENTIRE wall is just a mirror. As we originally moved in and went to put the bed in, there was a moment of "Uhm...where do we put it?" And ended up cramming our desks in front of this mirror/wall so it was covered.

Fatal Mistake #2.

I'm chatting away with MoonGoddess and playing...I believe it was stick war. And you just get ENGROSSED in that game. But I noticed something move, not RIGHT in front of me, but in front of me.

And then I looked up. Behind my desk, crawling up the wall, was THE BIGGEST FUCKING SPIDER I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!!!

Turns out, it was a "Southern House Spider"




YEEEHEEAAAHHH You see that???? Come back, come back, it's just a picture...but this thing was in FRONT of me ON THE MIRROR so it was like TWO of them!

"Screamed" Does not cover what came out of my mouth. I catapulted myself backwards in my chair, pointing and simply squealing "SPI-SPI-SPI-FUCKING HUUUUUUUUGGEEE!!!! SPI-SPI-SPI!!!!" MoonGoddess stared at me, saying "What? What is it?" She then turned to see the monstrosity, and was more eloquent in her "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" and she bolted from her computer desk and into the hallway.

I followed to run and was stopped in the doorway. There she stood in the hallway, holding a broom, and was poking me back into the room with it "No...NO NO....NO! Kill it!!!"
"LET ME OUT!"
"NO YOU KILL IT!!!"
"NO IT'S HUGE!!"
"IT CAN'T STAY IN THERE!"
"OH YES IT CAN! WE CAN MOVE!!!"

I tried in vain a few more times to escape the room, but she was QUICK with that broom. She took off her shoe and tossed it to me "KILL IT!"
"WHY ME!?"
"BECAUSE YOU ARE THE BOY! BOYS KILL SPIDERS!"

I finally gathered enough courage and turned to face the monster.

FUCKER WAS GONE!!!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH LET ME OUT LET ME OUT HE'S GONE HE'S GONE LET ME OUT!!!!"

This did not work. Neither did the tears, the relentless begging, and promises of aANYTHING she wanted.

By the way, saying "I'll do ANYTHING you WANT" Will backfire, as they will answer "I want you to kill the spider!"

Then started my search. With shoe held high, I ducked under her desk and started lifting things. I was completely gun-shy. ANYTHING that moved, I was pedaling backwards screaming. I didn't care anymore, there was NO shame left in me. So much NONshame that I had NO Shame going to the door every few minutes crying, and begging to be let out.

Crying...does not work...on girls. Make a note of that.

Finally, I looked down the wall between the desks and THERE HE WAS and he RAN at me! It was THEN I realized as I lifted the shoe, this SHOE was not going to do SHIT to this spider!

I hurled it at him as a means of distraction and catapulted myself out of the room, climbing over the broom and screaming past MoonGoddess "I'm so sorry!! I can't do it!! I'm so so so so sorry!"

I slowly crept back down the hall and hid behind her, and peered over her shoulder...ohhhh there he came. And like a NINJA she lifted that broom and smacked the HELL out of that spider.

BUT HE WASN'T DEAD! She had to literally lay the smack down on that spider TEN TIMES before he was finally disabled. NOT DEAD, disabled. Still trying to run, but not able to. MoonGoddess breezed by me, went in the kitchen and came back, and shoved the broom and a dustpan in my hand and said quite angrily, "YOU get to flush him." And left.

I'm not going to lie, I cried sweeping him up too. I was so afraid he was going to reanimate into super zombie spider and go straight for my jugular vein.

MoonGoddess got comfy in her computer again and so did I, and not another word was spoken about the spider. I kept nervously looking around because I was shell shocked.

Nothing was said until right as we were going to sleep she said "Jeeze, there's probably hundreds more like him all around this stupid house. How did he even get in? How did we not see him before then? It's so dark in here too, what if we never saw him and then went to sleep? Man, that'd be scary as hell!"

She then promptly fell asleep.

DON'T DO THAT TO ME!!!

Ugh, now I keep feeling like spider webs are descending on me. His brothers and kinfolk are out there...I know it. And they've been plotting revenge ever since...I KNOW IT!!


Scary ass spiders, man....

Death by Wasabi

There comes a time in every person's life, when they strike out to try something new. They hear of a French/Asian fusion recipe, and while usually they're not really down with Asian, they'll try it and go "Oh wow, this is fabulous. I am just chuffed to bits that I decided to try this."

Because everyone will randomly throw in a British phrase whilst trying new food.

There have been many things that I have tried over the course of several years that I would have never have thought of trying. Some of them I loved, some...not so much

(NEVER believe the vegetarian who hands you a handful of alfalfa sprouts and tells you they are delicious. You will die. You will die a thousand, grassy tasting deaths in your soul, and you will never forgive yourself. Especially when they look at you with pleading sympathy and say "I meant on a sandwich." For the record, MoonGoddess, we need to complete our sentences before handing the carnivore a handful of grass *blech*)

Way back before Teffy became an Otaku (of Xena, no less, *makes little circular symbol with hands and whispers* "praise be to Xena, might warrior princess, who leadeth us into battle and to Queen Gabrielle of the Amazons for leading us to the light of greater good and dignity, through love and peace. Give us the power to survive in a time of ancient gods, warlords, and kings. Forge us through the heat of battle so that we may become a mighty warrior. In Callisto's name we pray, KIIIIAAAYYIIIIII )

*ahem*

Now, way back when I was a much younger Tefflet, I got the distinct...well, haha, pleasure actually...of watching a friend accidentally ingest Wasabi. Her father loved spicy stuff, she...did not. And one day whilst in the throws of gettin' out some leftovers, she grabbed a bag of chips and a Styrofoam container of what she thought was Guacamole. While in fact, it was not. It was an identical Styrofoam container that was filled halfway with Wasabi that her father had brought home with his Chinese food leftovers.

And I watched as she dipped a glopping chip into it, and took an ASTOUNDINGLY large bite of it.

Screaming...is an understatement.

Now, MoonGoddes and I, got all sucked into cute Japanese culture via their brainwashing and adorable Bento Boxes.



FOR THE LOVE OF XENA!! LOOK AT IT!! Tell me you don't want to eat that!! So we came to a (very rushed, un-thought-out) decision:

We're going to buy rice...loooots of it. And we're going to make rice balls, and rice patties, and sushi (erm, veggie sushi) and rice rice rice and get good with this and make cute BENTO BOXES!

We get this (realistically 5lb) 500lb bag of rice home and realize "Holy Crap, how the hell do you make rice balls?"

Thank you, Google

Maaan we had it down, made some little veggie rice balls. I got confident enough that I finally said I wanted to make a little lunch of rice balls and take them to work with me.

You cannot fathom the amount of times I have sat here giggling and going "*teehee*...balls" One day, when I grow up...I hope to be an adult. But face it, that's a lot less fun.

I began reading various ways to prepare these little rice balls with meats and seafoods and kept seeing one thing strongly suggested: Wasabi. The wasabi would keep the food...I guess non-killer to you for some indescript reason.

(I also find it fascinating, that at almost 1AM I couldn't think of the word "food poisoning" but fired off "indescript" without hesitation...)

Off we went and grabbed Wasabi.

"You like horseradish, right?" MoonGoddess inquired as we entered the kitchen
"No, ew, why?"
"I guess this is kind of like that, you try it first."
"No, ew! You like it right?"
"Doesn't matter, I'm a vegetarian, I neither need or want wasabi in my rice balls"
"hhehehhe"
"I swear to god if you don't stop laughing every time we say balls..."

Now, here is where my fatal flaw came into play.

It's called my ego.
Ego, I now know = VERY BAD

I had a flash back to my friend screaming and flailing and eating the chip loaded with "guacamole".

Yet my head went "yeah but she survived!"
Give me a huge BLOB of it, right there on my finger!!

MoonGoddess gave me a look that was a mixture of "you have GOT to be shitting me" with "This further proves the crazy theory I've had all along".

But it was quickly replaced with a huge grin, "Okay" she said and squeezed a blob out onto my finger.

"you want some water or something, Teff?"
"Nah I got this"
"I mean, I'm serious, I'll get you some water...or milk, or....something..."
"Nah...I'm a champion. Wasabi won't do jack to me"

Smugness creeped across her face, "Go on now, then...take a big bite."

I stared it down like a Japanese foe. Unfortunately (and waha!) it was like Xena staring down her Japanese foe...and you all know what happened there.

If you don't, you are dead to me.

Because in my head, I'm still going "LIKE GUACAMOLE!" And shoved my finger, with this killer sized blob of wasabi right into my mouth.

I cannot describe the sheer level of hell that tore through my taste buds and assaulted my neurological system at that time. I imagine, that if food could metaphorically shoot you in the head, the wasabi did just that.

Not wanting to repeat the sheer level of screaming and agony I witnessed my friend go through, I simply let out a extremely defeated and whimpery "MmmMmmruummphhh" and closed my eyes. I opened them and peered through watery defeat to a Cheshire grin from the MoonGoddess, who then promptly fell into fits of uproarious laughter, "YOUR FACE!! OH MY GOD YOUR FACE!!!"
"mmmahhaahuuhh feeaacee? *whimper* *twitch*"
"It's RED!"

I knew I had to swallow the stuff. KNEW I had to! There was a trashcan just FEET away from me, but THAT was DEFEAT!!

I felt my face go through so many alien and foreign facial expressions of torture, which are apparently hilarious, as the MoonGoddess literally almost died laughing.

And finally swallowed the nasty blob of DOOM and gasped for air, and looked around for something to douse the fires from the BOWELS OF HELL in my mouth.

"oh god!" I exclaimed at the nothing that was in my immediate vicinity
"What'cha lookin for, Teff?" MoonGoddess grinned, "Do you need some water?"
"Hell no! I'm...*HACK* good!"

And as a person of pure integrity, she had already gotten me a glass of water and handed it over to me.

She then said "Next time you eat it, I have to film it"

Oh, WAIT a SECOND here!! I did not sign a contract for Wasabi face down of DOOM!

It should be noted that I did try it yet again and it was filmed, and I will say, I was not aware a human could turn that red.

So, yeah, Wasabi...it's really not bad if you put like, a silky thin layer of it on about 57 million pounds of rice. Really good stuff.

Wow, I think I taste it. That's some deep psychological scarring right there.

Bleh...

Love will get you killed.

There is something to be said about getting immersed into a subject.

Don't.do.it.

I throw this warning out, because there was a time when I got immersed in the subject of UFO's and extraterrestrial life.

Not "immersed" as in I joined the X-files team, down on my knees, throwing my hands to the sky like Mulder yelling "I WANT TO BELIEVE!"

No, I simply mean I was fascinated by the subject. I was more on the debunking side of things, when somebody submitted a photo, I could quickly say "oh yes, I see what you see there, but that really is caused by a lens flare, sensor overload, dust, etc"

But there are just some things I COULD NOT explain. This got MoonGoddess involved and we started gobbling up unexplained stories like Asian school girls and rice balls.

*heh* I said balls.

ANYWAY. One beautiful summer night came around, and there was no cloud cover. I can't remember the initial reason we had gone outside to look at the sky. There were several events that were around that time. Although I'm pretty certain, no I'm positive it was a meteor shower at that time.

We had gone out, and both our luck is atrocious for spotting meteors.

And by "Atrocious Luck" I mean we are REALLY impatient. But within moments we were outside, I saw one and got excited, and then she saw one too. This further fueled us to stay just a weeeee bit longer outside "just in case".

Whilst staring at the sky, we got to joking. This wasn't the same type of joking as we did with the Werewolves who snacked on apartment dwellers (Although, that IS true), this was more of a 'what if' and 'do you think' conversation.

"What would you do if you saw a UFO" type question.

Then, the neighborhood fell quiet, extremely quiet. This caught both our attention immediately as we looked to each other and said "Wow...that is...creepy..." A flash caught our eyes as a very low metor streaked across the sky, a very bright green color and low. We looked to each other in excitement and went "WOW!!! DID YOU SEE THAT!!!"

The celebration however, was cut short. For from the corner of the house came a very...VERY strange noise. I can't even think of a way to describe it, it was that strange.

We both glanced at each other with the same "WTF" face and fear and she said "Did....did you hear that?"
"Yeah but it's probably noth--"
*Creepy ass noise again*

We both bolted towards the stairs. I made it about two up and turned sideways, because she was behind me. I didn't want to run in in front of her, how douchey. But instead of her simply running past, I was grabbed my my shirt and pulled DOWN THE STAIRS and back into the yard, as she used my body for leverage to help speedily BOLT her up the stairs.

See that? She was hurling me to the wolves...er...aliens to be eaten!!! I paused out of LOVE and she was going to get me KILLED!

She has since given me her side of the story as to why she did that. She swears it wasn't to get me eaten, or to throw me behind her. I believe it was more along the lines of she was grabbing me to pull me in the house with her, and it all went horribly wrong.

But I can't remember, because I know she was trying to get me eaten.

Meanie.

Blood Sucking Neighbors.

There was always a joke between MoonGoddess and I when we lived in apartments. It quickly grew out of control, as our imaginations had spewed forth and unleashed some pretty gruesome (and quite realistic) scenarios involving werewolves living in town and bursting through unsuspecting apartment dweller's balcony doors, thus mauling them to death.

Ah, Imagination.

Upon moving into the log (as this old wooden rickety trailer has been dubbed, and rightfully so), I immediately noticed something odd after having the electricity turned on and going outside during the night.

Our "Safety" light did not work. I then realized that none of the houses in the neighborhood had safety lights, thus rendering the entire neighborhood pitch black during the night.

"Oooh," I thought to myself for a moment, "This could be nice. I can look up and see the stars."

Nobody welcomed us to the neighborhood, or ever stopped in to say hello. (I've been living here almost a year and a half, and have had one person come over looking for their cat, and I don't even know what house she came from.)

I went along with my business, going to work as usual, coming home in the evening or night. Ah, the neighbors were having a BBQ, Oh, those have built a little fire and they're all outside singing. I jokingly said to the MoonGoddess "Hope the werewolves don't get them." She replied "Werewolves only eat apartment dwellers."

Oh yeah.

One day whilst being outside (I was changing the windshield wipers on the car, entirely different horror story), I took notice to just how quiet it was outside and looked around. Nothing. Nobody. Anywhere.

Come that evening, as I went outside again, Oh there they were! Fires a'blazin and singing and guitar playing, One guy playing on a motorcycle, another working on a car. How awesome, I have nocturnal neighbors...they probably have insomnia like me!

Until it hit me like a sack of bricks falling off a truck...and right into my face. We were driving home one day, and MoonGoddess said that she really kind of liked how quiet it was in the neighborhood, and I suddenly exclaimed "OUR NEIGHBORS ARE VAMPIRES!"

I cannot express the level of anxiety after that epiphany. I'd go outside at night, and there they were, jovially going about their "day". This would explain why nobody has ever come over! They can't come in unless you invite them in for a bloodbath of sheer terror and pain! And they KNEW we were hermits!

I did a great deal of ignoring my silly intuition until one night, after the MoonGoddess had moved out, I was alone and the electricity went out. It was mid summer, and I had decided to take a nap in all the quiet. I awoke in the early evening, right after sunset, and it was so hot and stuffy in the house, I decided to go outside for some fresh air.

Bad mistake.

They were ALL outside and at the neighbor's house who had fired up a giant grill. Conversation went as follows:

Guy at Grill: Hey! There you are! Wanna come over?
Me: *nervously chuckles* Uhm...what'cha making?
Guy at Grill: That depends, are you coming over?
Me: *backing back into the house* No...No thanks...

I'M TELLING YOU!!! They were going to EAT ME!

Now, I'm ok knowing that I fully believe my entire neighborhood is full of vampires. What is not ok is that I'm so sure of it, and have embraced it, that I completely forget this is not "normal" thinking. For it causes awkward conversations like this:

Me: Yeah, so I locked the keys in the car...no...no it's ok...I had MoonGoddess come over with a metal ...thing...I dunno, it slid into the door and I hit the button.
Mom: Why didn't you just ask one of your neighbors to come help?
Me: Oh it's daytime, they're not here.
Mom: Oh, all at work?
Me: No, they're vampires. If I had locked the keys in the car tonight, it probably would have been ok, but no they're all asleep right now.
Mom: ....Ok? ....Uhm...I love you...I will talk to you later...bye...

It was that moment I could hear the absolute heartbreak in my mother's voice and knew the thoughts going through her head Dear Lord above, I love this child of mine, but how do I break it to my own child...how do I tell the others??? How do I tell them my child has completely lost their mind!!

It's almost a game now for me, but the novelty is wearing off a bit. The first few times after that conversation, I'd bring up the vampire neighbors to my mom "Yeah, the vampires were outside having a bonfire. The guy with the long hair? He's really good at guitar!" She'd nervously laugh and change subjects.

Now when she calls it's in a sing songy voice "So hooow are the vaaaampires??"

Oh god, they're going to eat me and nobody will know WHY! My mother will be weeping "I should have listened!! I was told!! I was told there were vampires!!"

And they'll probably cart her off! Oh NO! What have I done!?

Ok, It's 2AM. Maybe one is waltzing around out there, it has warmed up quite a bit, I'm sure they'll be out and enjoying the weather as well. I should go ask if there's some vampire/normal neighbor amnesty that they uphold or something. Or heck, maybe I shouldn't? I'm an insomniac, they probably just assume I'm a loner vampire.

God, all the hard decisions in life!