Friday, March 18, 2011

It's Been too Long, I'm Glad to be Back.....

Duh, duh duh DUH, I'm Back in BLACK!

Okay, well if that wasn't in your head before, it is *NOW* homies. Although right now, Pandora is playing Pink Floyd's opus to obsessive women EVERYwhere, which is the gem "Talking" - which is in my head in virtually EVERY argument I have with The Man. "Why aren't you talking? What are you thinking?".... Clearly.

So I hope I didn't offend all three of you anyone with my anti Apocalypse Now! people rant. And yet, I managed to hear even MORE of it yesterday. Sigh. Note to self: learn block/delete on Facebook.

It's not that I'm all Pollyanna, but I'm what we call a Pragmatic Optimist. I'm realistic to a certain point, but I'm also pretty sure that most people DON'T want to kill me and/or turn me into an Evil Capitalist Zombie and that the world was here before me, and will be here after me and the only cause I get all "Ima cut you" about is Tibet. And even then? Well the the Buddhists would be all, please DON'T shank anyone, so I just rage against the injustice of it all, say namaste to my Buddha head in the formal living room (what, you don't have one?) and drink some low-acid coffee.

The funny part to me, is if you suggest someone all "Down with the Evil Empire!" actually try to CHANGE it, they're usually "oh you can't change ANYthing because THEY have a secret evil cabal and anything you do is pointless!" Well, um, am I the only one who then says.... then what the fuck you worrying for, yo? I mean, spreading "information" to the masses through barely read Facebook statuses, or griping to your bestie is GREAT and all, but um, if it's pointless, then maybe go and work on your spraytan or something. Read a good book. Write your manifesto. Whatever works for YOU, pumpkin.

Oops. I ranted again!


And right now I'm really trying *not* to have a flashback due to Dark Side of the Moon. TRUE STORY: when I was in high school, it came time for the obligatory wisdom tooth removal. I went to a DENTIST and not an oral surgeon. Mistake one. They told me to bring some music and I'd be on nitrous. Ohhhhhkayyyy. I brought Dark Side, naturally. They started the nitrous. I felt just fine thankyouverymuch.

Then, the dentist proceeded to chisel my teeth out of my jaw with a jackhammer for the next several hours, while I drooled and winced and wondered what exactly HAD become of VERA?!

Friends, it was an event that = PTSD.

He managed to extract (read: rip out) only two teeth in the time he'd expected to do all four. I swelled (note: I'm a sweller in the event of injury) so much that I looked deformed, all from birth style. Not cool. My temple popped OUT.

So now when I hear ANYthing from Dark Side, I try to NOT remember having my sad wisdom teeth removed and the great amount of physical agony that followed. (I was bleeding and throwing up once the shots wore off = NO PAIN MEDS.)(I was lolling on my bathroom floor with my mom calling the dentist and my cat trying to comfort me as I moaned and drooled and flailed about.)


Okay. I feel better now. Pandora put on some Bob Marley. That was a close one!

Now that I've *totally* rocked your Friday with THAT little anecdote, let's move on.
I am very excited to report that I almost had the idea for a plot the other day! I know, it was pretty cool. Then I got distracted because *someone* had left a dirty peanut butter knife on my counter. WHAT! Uncool. Very very uncool. And peanut butter is aggressive! You can't get it off unless you use a flamethrower. My dishwasher (see also: LEMON) refuses to do anything but slosh the dirt around so it has NO effect on peanut butter.

This is my problem. I almost get a real PLOT and I end up throwing peanut butter knives around my kitchen.

But don't worry, I'm on it. I might write it down or brainstorm or something. Remember brainstorming in English class? When your teacher would draw a blobby cloud on the board and all the idiots kids would call out unrelated things and your teacher would pretend they were good ideas? No? Well I do. And it was lame. I don't brainstorm. I CREATE, bitches. I'm hardcore like that.

It's GAME ON up in here. Bring it. The literary magic will begin....after I call the dishwasher repairman. (again.)

Comments, questions, what do you have to say this Friday?