Yesterday, I was at my best friends' house. Which isn't normally a surprise because I basically live there. And we were all in the kitchen trying to convince her younger brother to make us pancakes for dinner. He deftly responded, "No" and walked out of the room in his trendy striped cardigan, non-prescription lenses, and BB-gun. Ten minutes later, we hear sounds that resemble party poppers and some commotion from the Bible Study Group across the house. I look out the kitchen window to see Pickles, the family Pit Bull, with a slightly plump pigeon in his mouth, trotting around the yard. And Little Brother, chasing him, holding the BB-gun, and unsuccessfully trying to remove the fluttering pigeon from Pickles' mouth. But every time Pickles drops the pigeon, it tries to fly away with its broken wing, and Little Brother tries to shoot it again to kill it, but Pickles thinks it's a game and continues to retrieve the bird, and play keep away. This carries on until my shrieking best friend runs outside, scoops the dog up, runs inside and screams at me, "OPEN THE GARAGE", (orders which I completely obey), and we throw Pickles in, amongst broken bicycles and storage crates. Then, we arrive at the kitchen window again, just in time, to see Little Brother, shoot and kill the bird, stoically remove his striped cardigan, and then wipe down his BB-gun, and converse with a moistened paper towel. Then we made shrimp dumplings.
And later, I ran over a garden gnome.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
Two Nights Ago.
1. Crashed a picnic birthday party in the park. (There wasn't a piñata so it wasn't legit.)
2. Played beautiful music from a park bench in the dark.
3. Attempted to paint The Dry Creek Moose, unfortunately, I had removed the spray paint I bought 7 months ago from my car. However, I did find a Día de los Muertos sticker book wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. So we drove around town defacing street signs, and then eventually stickered the moose. Didn't really have the adhesive quality I'd hoped but, you know. You can't have everything.
3. Climbed onto a roof. Stared at stars until the wee hours. Then had to escape from people with flashlights (torches), by running through sprinklers. They were probably Napan Security Guards with nothing better to do.
It was great.
2. Played beautiful music from a park bench in the dark.
3. Attempted to paint The Dry Creek Moose, unfortunately, I had removed the spray paint I bought 7 months ago from my car. However, I did find a Día de los Muertos sticker book wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. So we drove around town defacing street signs, and then eventually stickered the moose. Didn't really have the adhesive quality I'd hoped but, you know. You can't have everything.
3. Climbed onto a roof. Stared at stars until the wee hours. Then had to escape from people with flashlights (torches), by running through sprinklers. They were probably Napan Security Guards with nothing better to do.
It was great.
Why Airplanes Are Ridiculous.
Let me just start by explaining that Airplanes are very, very awkward for several reasons.
1. Overhead compartment discrepancy: Which side is mine? Why is there no space? Why did you try to stow 17 bizarre musical instruments?
2. Sleep: Drool. Neck aches. Turbulence. Strangers sleeping beside you.
3. Bathrooms: If you don't sit on the aisle seat, you'll never get to go. Unless you choose to submit your neighbors to the awkwardness of the "If I could just squeeze by you..." phrase. Also, the loos are the size of an American Girl Doll Bathroom.
4. The Beverage Cart: You're starving. And all you get are shitty snacks with artificial flavoring and high fructose corn syrup.
And now commences my most recent Airport experience.
A few weeks ago I had to travel to Boston for my orientation. Unfortunately Dear Ole' Ma decided to book the flights a week before departure and we ended up on a twelve hour flight, with three transfers, and a shot to the head. (Not really, although I would have preferred the bullet.) After waking up at three AM, for a six o'clock flight, racing to San Fran to make it in time, taxiing from the parking lot by the CRAZY African American shuttle woman who cut off about a dozen mini vans too many, (I didn't know shuttles were allowed to drive on the freeway, scariest realization of my life) and standing behind the stupid idiot who decided that pocket knives were acceptable to carry on through security *sigh*.
We FINALLY made it onto the plane.
I sat, naturally, in the bitch seat (middle seat) between my mother, and a wiry, thirty year old man wearing a Star Trek t-shirt and sweats. Our first destination was beautiful Atlanta, Georgia. After take-off I look over to Mom to ask for the skittles, but she's sound asleep. So I look to my right and ask Trekkie what brings him to Georgia. This is his exact response:
"Oh you know, a little bit of work, and a little bit of fun. I'm going to a puppet convention. Performing actually. I have them all with me now, if you'd be interested in seeing my guys!"
He then proceeds to open his carry-on and pulls out each individual puppet and explains it. I just kind of smile and nod and then start yawning excessively as he chatters on about his hobby. And then I pretend to fall asleep. And then I actually fell asleep.
The next stop is Virginia.
I often have issues on airplanes because my legs are long. Yes, I would like to recline my seat, and put my legs up on the seat in front of me, but I don't do either of these things, because I have decency for other peoples' personal space. There is nothing worse than sitting down for two seconds on a plane, and having the dumbass in front of you recline their seat completely so they are basically in your lap. Of course, in this unfortunate instance, this indecency and rudeness was the case. And, naturally, I had no where to put my legs. So I crossed them, accidentally nudging the chair in front of me, but then an hour later my leg fell asleep, and I had to switch legs, accidentally nudging the chair again. This continued for the rest of the flight but I didn't feel bad because she was the one being annoying and inconsiderate. After the flight was over, the entire plane was silent as we taxied into the terminal, and everyone unbuckled and started looking around to see who they could fight to get their bags first. The Lady in front of me (who consequently has red hair) turns around to peek (glare) at the source of the nudging. But I was looking at her too, and I stared into the aged eyes of a Ginger and my soul turned black. Not really. About the soul part.
But really?? You were the space hoarder, and you're glaring at me? That's just straight up obnoxious.
But then I ate a muffin and wasn't as annoyed.
The End.
1. Overhead compartment discrepancy: Which side is mine? Why is there no space? Why did you try to stow 17 bizarre musical instruments?
2. Sleep: Drool. Neck aches. Turbulence. Strangers sleeping beside you.
3. Bathrooms: If you don't sit on the aisle seat, you'll never get to go. Unless you choose to submit your neighbors to the awkwardness of the "If I could just squeeze by you..." phrase. Also, the loos are the size of an American Girl Doll Bathroom.
4. The Beverage Cart: You're starving. And all you get are shitty snacks with artificial flavoring and high fructose corn syrup.
And now commences my most recent Airport experience.
A few weeks ago I had to travel to Boston for my orientation. Unfortunately Dear Ole' Ma decided to book the flights a week before departure and we ended up on a twelve hour flight, with three transfers, and a shot to the head. (Not really, although I would have preferred the bullet.) After waking up at three AM, for a six o'clock flight, racing to San Fran to make it in time, taxiing from the parking lot by the CRAZY African American shuttle woman who cut off about a dozen mini vans too many, (I didn't know shuttles were allowed to drive on the freeway, scariest realization of my life) and standing behind the stupid idiot who decided that pocket knives were acceptable to carry on through security *sigh*.
We FINALLY made it onto the plane.
I sat, naturally, in the bitch seat (middle seat) between my mother, and a wiry, thirty year old man wearing a Star Trek t-shirt and sweats. Our first destination was beautiful Atlanta, Georgia. After take-off I look over to Mom to ask for the skittles, but she's sound asleep. So I look to my right and ask Trekkie what brings him to Georgia. This is his exact response:
"Oh you know, a little bit of work, and a little bit of fun. I'm going to a puppet convention. Performing actually. I have them all with me now, if you'd be interested in seeing my guys!"
He then proceeds to open his carry-on and pulls out each individual puppet and explains it. I just kind of smile and nod and then start yawning excessively as he chatters on about his hobby. And then I pretend to fall asleep. And then I actually fell asleep.
The next stop is Virginia.
I often have issues on airplanes because my legs are long. Yes, I would like to recline my seat, and put my legs up on the seat in front of me, but I don't do either of these things, because I have decency for other peoples' personal space. There is nothing worse than sitting down for two seconds on a plane, and having the dumbass in front of you recline their seat completely so they are basically in your lap. Of course, in this unfortunate instance, this indecency and rudeness was the case. And, naturally, I had no where to put my legs. So I crossed them, accidentally nudging the chair in front of me, but then an hour later my leg fell asleep, and I had to switch legs, accidentally nudging the chair again. This continued for the rest of the flight but I didn't feel bad because she was the one being annoying and inconsiderate. After the flight was over, the entire plane was silent as we taxied into the terminal, and everyone unbuckled and started looking around to see who they could fight to get their bags first. The Lady in front of me (who consequently has red hair) turns around to peek (glare) at the source of the nudging. But I was looking at her too, and I stared into the aged eyes of a Ginger and my soul turned black. Not really. About the soul part.
But really?? You were the space hoarder, and you're glaring at me? That's just straight up obnoxious.
But then I ate a muffin and wasn't as annoyed.
The End.
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