my room's an asshole

sometimes things happen in my life that makes me think about if past life me was a dick and therefore present life me has to suffer and have horrible things happen all the time. i'm not exaggerating. well, maybe a little bit. BUT I DON'T CARE!!!! i can exaggerate and make you feel sympathetic for me if i want to.

for instance, i'm convinced that my room is out to kill me or confuse the shit out of sleepy/drunk/clumsy me. not 10 minutes ago i slammed my head into my wall trying to sit up. and it would be okay if this were the first time this happened. i would probably be okay with it then. but this is literally, like 41,356th time it's happened. it's a mean, vicious wall. it may look innocent and white and decorative BUT IT'S OUT TO GET ME. i am not a fan.

and my light switch is the same. it sits there and seems to say, "oh you want lights? you need some brightness? i'm your dude!" lulling you into a false feeling of security so you turn it on and instead of light, you get the switch going, "MWHAHAHAHAHA GOTCHA!!! you wanted light but you will be cool and breezy instead because I CONTROL THE FAN!!!". it's such an ASSHOLE. what really controls the lights is a string that i'm pretty positive belongs to a necklace i owned once of a banana. but it's 12 times too long to be hanging from a fan, so it's knotted at the top. and it's not even a nice knot. it's this mess of string and knots and terror that if you touch it will probably blow up and then you'll be stuck with PTSD for the rest of your life, as well as a fake hand. even though you could do cool stuff to it, such as getting a hook like captain hook or buster bluth. EVEN BETTER, you could get a hand/hook that extends so you can reach that thing that's extra far away. SO COOL.

but cool extra extremities isn't enough to distract me from the terror that is my bedroom. what makes my room extra un-enjoyable (which is not a word, but the hyphen makes it real in my book) is my bed. I HATE IT. it's not that it's not comfortable. it is. it's brand, spankin' new and it's comfy and all that. but it's not against any walls. which it should be. because that's how you keep the monsters from getting you. you just snuggle up to the wall and they can't get you and then they go away when you fall asleep so that makes it okay to let your feet hang over the edge. anyway, my bed is SO not monster proof. and since it's not monster proof, i wind up sleeping in strange positions as to make sure that i'm protected and can break into kung fu at the drop of a hat. not that i know kung fu, but i'm sure in a monster vs me fight, i'd be able to break out some moves. it's that adrenaline thing that let's moms lift cars to save their babies. i would have that to fight monsters. but these kung fu positions hurt and i'm pretty sure my wrist is broken. if not broken then severely wounded because it hurts and it's probably swelling and will most likely develop gangrene and fall off or something equally as horrible.

and as if all that wasn't horrible enough, the whole concussion thing is CLEARLY my beds fault because the old frame is too big for the new mattress, which makes sense on planet NOWHERE, and whenever i move, the beds like "oh you want to move??? how about i just sliiiiiiiiide all the way over here, leaving your poor, unsuspecting, defenseless head to suffer the wrath of this wall i'm in cahoots with??"

i repeat, i must have been a dick in my past life. or i was an animal that ate all the other animals in the forest. like a really mean jaguar or something. or a coyote.

but i ate whipped cream for dinner tonight, so i guess that's alright. not even on anything. straight from the can. yummmmmmm.

though i'll probably get AIDS or something similar because i have no luck.


UPDATE: I do, in fact, have Kung Fu skills. I discovered this when my dear, darling older brother decided that 3 in the morning would be an EXCELLENT time to come home. I, in all my stealth and wonderment, hid in the darkness of my demonic room in full battle stance, ready to attack whatever intruder was in my front hallway. Since it was only my brosef, I didn't have to unleash my fists of fury. But I'm confident that when faces my enemies, I'll be able to defend myself.


PS my brother has his own fucking apartment. Why the hell is he coming to my house to sleep???? This makes no sense. I'm going to have very strong words with him in the morning.

bookstores and Africa

i think the title of this blog deserves some explaining. my attention span is comparable to a goldfish, so when i'm in a situation in which i become distracted, which pretty much is much of my life, sadly, i think about the WEIRDEST things. on one of these occasions, i became fixated on the word "gastronomy". i had no idea what it was, but i assumed it was the study of gases or something equally as interesting and far beyond my grasp of intelligence but NO! it's actually the study of food and stuff. in case you're REALLY interested, i've included the ever so reliable wikipedia definition. i was shocked and awed and then promptly forgot about it completely until JUST NOW.

but that really has nothing to do with the creation of the blog. well, not NOTHING, but very, very little. in fact, my reasoning behind this blog was my recent infatuation (in the most uncreepy way of being infatuated with something) with Hyperbole and a Half blog, which makes me giggle like a 5 year old at very inappropriate times, like, while in class learning about small starving African children, which is very sad. which explains the need for laughter. but just inappropriate.

i'm getting ahead of myself. to be clear, not a creepy stalker, just appreciate the humor.

ANYWAY, i like to think that this blog will become a spot for my observations of hilarity will come to live, but i'm sure it will turn into my attention disorder running wild, like lions in Africa (i'm stuck on the Africa bit tonight. sorry)

and so my observations begin.

i worked at borders bookstore up until last month (not fired, store close. very sad wah wah wah. moving on.) but what i discovered while working there was that the customers were some of the STRANGEST i'd ever met. there were the homeless, which i will talk about in great detail...later on but also the insane, rude nuttso strange customers we got. during the holiday season, our store placed one employee at the very front of the store to hand out fliers that mentioned the promotions we were running that day/week/month/eon. some people took them without question, some didn't but some looked at it like it was carrying typhoid. not a normal reaction AT ALL.

to demonstrate more clearly to you just one interaction, i've drawn a series of pictures. extremely real looking. don't get blown away.





needless to say, my job was strange and horrible at times. more to come on the borders customers.

i guess i should stop. i feel a tangent coming on and those should probably be posted when i'm positive no one is reading ;)

ADIOS, dear sweet internet!

UPDATE: the little girl in the top picture is not me. honestly, it could be, but i was never that composed in pictures, so my childhood pictures wouldn't work. i am the crazy college girl in the yellow sweater dancing in the rain on the right hand side of the page. yup. that's a normal occurrence.

UPDATE pt 2: just wanted to clarify that i am not ripping off hyperbole and a half. true, there are many similarities, if only because i wasn't sure how to start my own blog and hers just cracked me up. i promise i will some be getting my own voice and all that. but til then, bear with me. it'll get better!!!!!!