On Making Friends

So I've talked about my awkwardness with the younger generations. Lets talk about my awkward with people my age.

There's a reason that I have so many experiences with creeps, geeks, and the deranged. I'm a little bit of all of the above.

Since moving three years ago to a new town and a new job I've made exactly zero friends. The friends I tried to make (all two of them) were either grumpy and old or fired from work. There's a light at the end of this tunnel though. A couple of weeks ago I met a new girl at work. We started talking, she was funny, smart and had a lower lip piercing - my kind of chick, in a totally hetero way (oh who am I kidding, we're all a little bit gay, just like we're all a little bit racist).

Anyway, stepping away from the potentially offensive (told you I was awkward), this girl and I were talking, lets call her Aubry, and I was getting super excited at the prospect of a new friend. At one point I actually blurted out, "ohmigosh! We could totally be besties!"

Yeah, I then had to work on recovery. I went on to say that I'm not as creepy and weird as I seem and I get better with time.

Hopefully she'll take me up on my offer to hang out once she gets moved up here. Although on thinking about it, I probably said something like, "once you move up here let me know where you live so I can sit outside your house and watch you through binoculars" instead of "we should catch a movie sometime."

Oh well, I've still got CG. I've managed to somehow hypnotize him into staying with me. Sometimes I wonder why he's managed to stick around, then I remember he's a little bit creepy, geeky, and deranged too. We're meant for each other in a totally creepy way.

Black Holes and How I Cause Them

I'm getting old. I think I've discussed this here before, as it terrifies me beyond belief. How is it possible to BE OLD at 25? I've managed it somehow. This, however, will not be a post about my fear of oldness (don't judge, it's t0tz a word). This will be a post about how I, as an old person, interact with young people.

I think I'm pretty awesome, pretty much all of the time. I may have a "fat day" or a "lazy slob day" on occasion, but self-esteem is not really a problem. I'm the coolest and most adorable friggin' fatty you'll ever meet and I know it. I'm also pretty sure that my family knows it too. I've got some really amazing young family members. Two younger sisters who are the epitome of awesome and several cousins so fabulous they're beyond description. My sisters and two of my male cousins I have a great relationship with, because I see them all the time.

The problem comes when I'm introduced to any of their friends/ boyfriends/ girlfriends/archenemies. I'm awkward. I make inappropriate comments. That's who I am. For some reason teenagers don't seem to like that. So far I have managed to keep the embarrassment that I inflict upon my younger family members to a minimum. There will come a time though when the epic-ness (don't judge that's also totally a word) of my brand of awkward will cause an embarrassment so large that a black hole will form out of the spontaneous combustion of my family member. This black hole will then suck so hard that it will pull everything in it's range into tiny atoms and particles then condense them into it's center. Creating a ball so dense and heavy that it enhances the gravitational pull of the black hole, thereby expanding it exponentially. Thus ending the world as we know it.

I'm unsure how to frame the blame on this particular event when it happens.

My youngest sister Myme is bringing a friend over to my house for the second Friday in a row. I managed to keep cool through the first visit, but this is just asking for trouble. If I inadvertently cause the end of the world, please excuse me, and blame Myme.

Flames . . . flames . . . on the side of my face

As a child I was hot headed. Very, very hot headed. The kind of child who snapped quickly and violently. I can remember times when the smallest thing would set me off and my vision would blur and I would literally see red. A few minutes or hours later I'd remember what had happened.

I'm pretty non-confrontational now, probably as a result of the above and the terrifying thought that I could have really hurt someone.

There are still a few active hot buttons though. Things that make me so angry I'm barely rational.

1. Being hurt physically. Whether by accident or on purpose the one thing guaranteed to bring my crazy out is pain. So, if I stub my toe or you poke me just a little too hard take a few steps back and stay quiet for a couple of minutes. No sudden movements.

2. My fabulous sister Meg. I love the child like crazy; she's my best friend, my confidant, and I'd trust her with anything. However, she can push my button's harder and faster than anyone else on this planet. We're too much alike.

3. People whispering. If you don't want me to hear it get the fuck away from me. It's rude, unprofessional, and stupid. I don't care about your "secrets," I just care that you're a rude moron.

4. Backstabbers. Don't smile and compliment me if you're going to trash me as soon as I leave the room. I don't care if you don't like me, not everyone will. Just don't make me think you're a friend.

5. Dinging my car door on those stupid concrete thingies next to the gas pump. I'm pretty sure they're put there to make getting gas the most unpleasant thing on this planet. It's already smelly with sub-par facilities, why not make it a driving/parking hazard as well.

6. Bono. I don't know if it's his stupid glasses, his ridiculous hair or his smarmy-prick attitude. It's probably all three.

7. The fact that my adorable, but loud and excitable 9 year old cousin can catch fish after fish while screaming into the water, running like a loon, throwing rocks into the pond and not using bait. While I can sit out there quietly for hours with the best lures and not catch a damn thing.

8. People looking over my shoulder while I'm on the computer. Don't. Do. It.

9. That weird aftertaste that Coke leaves. It's like a stale leprechaun farted gently into my mouth.

10. Bad table manners. I am not the neatest person out there, I know this. Now, I'm not talking about elbows on the table or not putting your napkin in your lap. I'm talking chewing with your mouth full, making out with your utensil to get every last bit of food off of it, or mixing all your food into a big pile and eating it with a fork in one hand and a serving spoon in the other. Unacceptable.

Random Thoughts 1

Heavy Breathers are the bane of existence, especially on a work conference call. I can almost feel them drooling on me. I always feel violated afterward.

People who give themselves "cool" middle names on Facebook make me want to stab them in the eye with a fork. Just because you want to be known as Kevin "Big Dick" Dalton does not mean that we'll call you anything other than your nickname from high school - aka: Kevin "Peed his pants during a football match" Dalton. You fail at cool. You fail at life.

Surviving the World - Spitting

True Story. Actual Fact.

When There's No One Around

I live alone and enjoy it about 95% of the time. This is why.

1. I don't have to share the bathroom with anyone.

2. I don't have to make my bed.

3. I can make blanket forts in my living room and can leave them up as long as I want.

4. I can cut flowers from the yard without asking permission.

5. I can hula-hoop in my living room and not worry about breaking anything.

6. I can drink straight from the carton.

7. I can listen to 90's boy-band music and dance spasmodically in my living room without fear of embarrassment.

8. I have full remote control.

9. I can sit backwards on the couch with my head touching the floor and my feet in the air and pretend I live in an upside down land.

10. I can sing really loudly in the shower, or anywhere for that matter.


In short, always call before visiting. I could be dancing naked in my backyard in homage to the goddess of harvest or playing tag with my cats (they're really terrible at it).

Lord I was born a ramblin man . . .

Tryin' to make a livin' and doin' the best I can.

Spring has sprung . . . and then retracted. It's been beautiful here in the crotch of the corn belt for the last few weeks. I planted and sewed my seeds and plants only to see frost this morning when I woke up. Tragic. I think most everything will make it through this cold snap but it was disappointing to dash out of bed this morning and straight to the thermostat to turn on the heat.

Anyway, I've been trying my hand at gardening. I want pretty flowers, a green lawn, and fresh fruit and veg. I'm just not sure how dedicated I'll be in July when the humidity sets in and I can't be outside for more than a few minutes without beads of sweat forming on my upper lip. Time will tell I suppose.

My self-synopsis is pretty spot on, I tend to begin everything with lots of energy and excitement only to get bored halfway through and abandon it to the pile of lost hobbies a few months later. I've never been good at follow-thru.

Knowing this, I made sure that most of my plants are easily maintained and annual. It's much easier to get invested in something when you know you'll have it next year and the year after. I'd much rather have things constant than have things fun.

I can't believe I've just made an entire post about gardening as a metaphore for my life. This is probably boring. I can't tell any more. It's my life so it all seems important, even the rose bushes and fairy lilies.

Things You Shouldn't Talk About

I'm totally hitting a wall right now with this blog. There are tons of things going on but I have absolutely no desire to write them down. Basically I suck at life.

So I'm pushing past the pain long-distance runner style.

I've had some amazing opportunities with my job in the last few months, those of you who follow me on Twitter or Facebook know and, I'm sure, are justifiably jealous.

Well yesterday was the be-all, end-all of epic work perks. I got to attend a luncheon for the Center for the Prevention of Abuse. It's a wonderful non-profit focused on helping those abused or raped move on and get away from their abuser.

It's a cause that is very close to my heart, something I wish I could be more involved in and maybe someday I will be.

Anyway, the key note speaker was Vice President Joe Biden. Those of you who know me IRL know that I'm a staunch Libertarian, I'm for individual freedom and not much else. I did, however, vote Obama in the last election. As a Libertarian who voted Obama I'm required by law to dislike about half of the things he and Biden have done while in office. As I'm not one for political debates I'll leave it at that.

However, Biden's speech was amazing, inspiring, and made me really like him. Honestly, the inappropriate things he's done in office (this is a BIG FUCKING DEAL) made me predisposed to like him immensely anyway. He also managed to say SOB and badass.

Someone has a new political crush!

Here's part of Biden's speech.

Anyway, this post is part PSA and part bragging about how awesome my life is.

The PSA part is the link. Domestic abuse and rape are the only crimes where the victim is put on trial. It's heartbreaking to know that not only are the victims put on trial, but the trial itself comes down to he said; she said. It's hard to convict, and therefore seems almost pointless to report. I don't know how to fix it, besides education, public understanding and awareness.

I'm really just in awe of how passionate Biden seems to be on this issue and am grateful that he didn't use this as a platform to talk about anything but the topic at hand.

Thanks for doing it right Vice President.