Wednesday, April 16, 2014

N is for Nothing

I had a vlog planned for "N," but for a number of reasons, the vlog was never made. 

(As y'all may have noticed from the vast number of vlogs I have made in the past, I clearly am totally awesome at vlogging.*)

I had hoped to get an alternate post done in the event that I did not actually finish the vlog, but that never happened either. 

Apologies in advance for getting overly serious from this point on.

The middle of April (and spring in general) marks a number of death anniversaries, two of which have not really gotten any easier to deal with than when those individuals died. So my ability to function has suffered, and it eventually ground to a halt on Sunday night. Monday marked a death that continues to haunt me, and so I was kind of a huge mess on Monday. Consumption of booze has tripled since then, so I'm still feeling kind of brittle and raw. 

Which brings me to today's post. 

For N, we shall be having a virtual moment of silence. A moment of silence for those we have all lost to the Long Silence.  


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

M is for Math

From like third grade onward, most of my teachers and peers thought I was a moron. Because I can't do math.

Numbers just don't make sense to me. Even I thought I was stupid, because numbers seem to make perfect sense to everyone else. Both of my parents are accountants, for feck's sake. Mumsy even once admitted to me that she dreams in numbers.

I can barely count to ten.

Not kidding--when I used to exercise and tried counting my sit-ups and push-ups and whatnot, I apparently almost always screwed up the counting at some point. I never noticed this--my sister and a few of my friends did, on a number of separate occasions.

I screw up taking down people's phone numbers all the time at work. My boss used to yell at me for this, but now--like most of my bosses before him--if the number is wrong the first time, he'll reverse the 6's and 9's (as in, change all 6's in the phone number to 9's, or vice versa), and usually once he does that, he ends up with the correct number.

::convulses on the floor::

Whoever came up with 6 and 9 should be tortured. 3 as well--it always takes me a sec to make sure it's not an 'E.' And to make sure the 4 isn't "H."

I have trouble telling time, too. Most people look at a clock and see the time, but I see:

unless I sit there and stare at it for a full minute.


Monday, April 14, 2014

L is for Looking Both Ways Before Crossing the Street

There is a plague on motorists everywhere, and it is this:

I have noticed a growing trend with pedestrians--they no longer look before they cross the street. It baffles me. It makes me terrified of driving through towns. For reals, I will take the most ass-backwards way to the post office or the supermarket on my lunch breaks just so I can avoid driving through the town in which I work. People dart out into the street with no warning. They even dart out from behind parked cars, and then give you filthy looks when you slam on your brakes and swerve into the middle of the road to avoid them.

I would love to take these people and drop them into the middle of Broad Street in Philadelphia, where I learned the correct way to be a pedestrian. In Philadelphia, you look both ways even when the sign tells you it's ok to walk. Because Philly drivers will absolutely not stop for pedestrians in the middle of the road. Even the bus drivers won't stop. (Not kidding, I saw five pedestrians and one bicyclist get hit by cars and/or buses in the three years I lived there. I was even in the car for one of those collisions.)

People have somehow gotten it into their heads that the Yield to Pedestrians law means that they no longer have to look both ways because it's illegal for us not to yield to them in a crosswalk.


Newsflash: it's still a good idea to look both ways.

Saturday, April 12, 2014

K is for Klutz

You know what really ticks me off? When people try to say that a girl being a klutz is cute.

It's not cute. It's a fecking pain in the arse.

Mostly I can blame it on the vertigo. I have no balance, and even when I think I can manage standing upright without a problem, sometimes my brain likes to play Let's Go Sailing Now and

I used to love shoes. I still love shoes. But I can no longer wear high heels. I have finally reached a point where I can accept this. I used to enjoy haunted houses on Halloween as well, but then a couple years ago after going through one of those spinning rooms

I spent the next 6 hours vomiting and fighting a raging headache, and the next two days in bed because I couldn't even stand up.

Part of it may also be a lack of hand-eye coordination. Lots of people complain that they have some issues with that. That they have *bad* hand-eye coordination.

Try having almost NONE.

A good chunk of the time, when I go to pick something up, I end up hurling it across the room. I have injured people doing this. I have broken windows and walls. I have lost things forever.

And a big problem resulting from vertigo + lack of hand-eye coordination: carrying things. 

Just carrying anything in general. If I need both hands to carry something, my balance goes out the effing window. Like seriously I have almost died on several occasions because I needed to carry a box from one side of the room to the other.

Some people try to tell me this can be a good thing. I can play the damsel in distress, right?


I never look like the damsel in distress. I just look like a fool.

Friday, April 11, 2014

J is for John Malkovich

I won't usually shut off a tv show or a film if I dislike one of the actors in it. Hell, I can [usually] watch Kevin Bacon films without too much of a problem.


If we sit down to watch something on the telly and I happen to catch even a hint of John Malkovich, we will be promptly changing the channel.

He never shuts up. I feel like he makes up triple the lines they actually give him in the script of every single film in which he has ever acted.

The biggest insult to my soul by far was the film Dangerous Liaisons. They have turned that book (despite being written way back when, it's actually a very good book) into three different films: Valmont, which had a great cast but kind of butchered the story; Cruel Intentions, which even though it's set in the 90's instead of the 1700's is probably the truest to the book; and the 1988 film Dangerous Liaisons. John Malkovich was cast as the main character, Valmont. The same character played by Ryan Philllllipppppe in Cruel Intentions. The guy who is supposed to be this major man-whore, who is so charming and gorgeous that he gets to screw around with pretty much everyone without making much of an effort.

Let that sink in. They cast John Malkovich as this guy.

John Malkovich is like the opposite of the charming gorgeous man that women find irresistible.

That is all.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

I is for Inch Worms

Spring should be a time of flowers and new life and sneezing fits. But for me, spring is a time of terror. A time of becoming a total shut-in. Of never leaving the house without a massive umbrella even when it's sunny.

Especially when it's sunny.

Why, you may ask?

Because in spring, inchworms start falling out of the trees.
[I tried finding photos of this, but the google image search made me feel a bit nauseous so sorry but no]

Guys seriously. You don't understand how awful this is. I have a worm phobia, and it is ten times worse than all of my other weird phobias and pet peeves. In spring I have to deal with WORMS RAINING FROM THE F*CKING SKY. And this can go on for half of the summer.

I would rather it rained spiders. I would rather it rained cheese. I would rather it rained fecking Kevin Bacon if that meant it would stop raining worms.

So cheers to staying indoors for the next 4 months.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

H is for Hippies

A disclaimer: I wrote the following post while extremely drunk. I do not endorse this sort of behaviour. 
(I am, however, quite impressed with the general level of coherency I managed to achieve.)

I don't even know where to start this.

Back in high school, everyone fit neatly into their labels. There were the trendy kids (I guess what would be the stereotypical *popular* kids?), the nerds, the jocks, and the freaks. And each of those had subcategories. I have no idea what sort of subcategorizations there were among the trendy, jock, and nerdy kids; but in the freak group, there were the goths, the hippies, the punks, and the metalheads. In general, everyone within the Freaks got along with everyone else. Clashes usually arose from one place.

Metalheads vs. Hippies.

....I was about to apologize for possibly offending anyone from this point onward but seriously if you've been reading this blog for this long you should know to never ever take me seriously.

A friend and I just had a long conversation about this. We realized that this conflict--Metalheads vs. Hippies--has defined our entire lives.

Hippies and Metalheads are like complete polar opposites. People accuse me of being a hippie a lot, and my instinctive reaction is to take offense. I never questioned this, and I should because I have some good friends who are definitely hippies, and I don't hold that against them (usually....... ok fine I make fun of them for it but we're still good friends). Like seriously, in high school the biggest insult my friends and I could hurl at each other was "F*CKING HIPPIE!!!"

M and I still use that as an insult. So yeah, when people accuse me of being a hippie because of the way I dress, I get offended.

I think it might be because I'm like a redneck-metalhead hybrid. I guess on the surface level we can appear very similar, but there is a large difference between hippies and rednecks. I shall illustrate this with a chart:

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

G is for Grocery Shopping

I think everyone who hates grocery shopping hates it for the same reasons, so instead of rambling on in the normal fashion, I shall now attempt some poetry:

I actually kind of like grocery shopping.
It highlights all of my most efficient qualities,
like writing the list in the order of the aisles in the shop
and then never using the list because I memorized it,
and of course when I get home,
carrying all twelve bags in at once
because I don't feel like making more than one trip.

But seriously people
can you not leave your shopping cart across the aisle
completely blocking my way
and then get pissed at me for moving it
when you ignored my polite attempts at

Your filthy ill-mannered children
should be strapped into the shopping cart,
or perhaps you could just leave them at home.
I know you have a nanny.
No one with three screaming children
wears Gucci spike heels
and spotless white Dior pant suits
unless they have a nanny.

You know how when you approach an intersection
in your car or on foot,
you stop and look both ways
to make sure you don't get hit by an oncoming truck?
One would think that rule might also apply
to the end of the aisles in the supermarket.

YES, I am in fact quiet short.
And I would appreciate it if you didn't judge me
when I need to climb the shelves
because of course the item I want
is always on the top shelf.

Unless there is something legitimately wrong with you
I don't understand
why you can't
just bag your own effing groceries.
People like you will die first
when the zombies come.

Why the hell don't any of these supermarkets
stock parsnips.
Some of us eat those.

It's Sunday afternoon.
Everyone does their food shopping on Sunday afternoon.
So why are there only two cashiers working?

That's right.
My life is not exciting.
And I know that you know
because the only things I'm buying
are vodka and cat food.

Monday, April 7, 2014

F is for Fruit

I used to get scolded for not eating my fruit as a child. My parents or nanny would serve me an apple or orange or grapes or a banana, and I would flatly refuse to eat it.

Because fruit is disgusting.

I get sensitive with certain textures in foods, and I cannot handle food that is slimy and/or mushy. Like pretty much all fruit. Believe me, I have tried conquering this with oranges (sour ones--they don't taste bad if they're sour), but the mushiness actually makes me gag, and I don't even have a gag reflex.

The only fruit I can handle is apples (sour ones), but for whatever reason, despite consuming ridiculous amounts of apple pie, if I eat more than half of an actual apple, I will vomit. My stomach just refuses to digest it.

With some fruits, I can't even stand the smell without gagging. Bananas and all types of melons cause me a lot grief. Plus aside from the smell, bananas always make me think of Granny's odd eating habits: using a fork to smash her banana into mush, then smushing like 4 tablespoons of butter in with it and eating it out of a bowl. 

Just typing that made me gag.

Pears upset me a lot, too. Like if you even think about pears near me, I may vomit. They're the worst; I can't even look at pears.

Somehow, after nearly 30 years of this behavior, I have managed NOT to get scurvy.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

E is for Every M. Night Shyamamamamammaalan Film Ever

Except for the Sixth Sense; that was a good film.

Unbreakable was okay. Kind of confusing, but okay. I don't tink it had a plot, but it kept my attention. 

And then there was Signs. Seriously? Aliens that are allergic to water?? So they're genius enough to build a spaceship that can travel faster than the speed of light (for argument's sake let's say they did because there aren't any planets close enough for their ship to go any slower than that), and yet they think it's a good idea to land on a planet that is 75% FECKIN WATER.

Or The Village. I wanted monsters. I wanted real carnage. I wanted everything they advertised in the effing trailers, not the anticlimactic trash that I saw.

The Happening was just retarded.

I don't even need to explain why Devil was awful; IMDB's description more or less did it for me: "A group of people are trapped in an elevator and the Devil is mysteriously amongst them."

How the heck does he get funding?!?