While You Were Out...

So, recently ( as in a few hours ago recently) one of my very best friends and roommate decided to take a leave of absence from his current situation, and board a plane headed to Madrid. As in Madrid, Spain. As in, he’ll be gone for two weeks and will be very far away. Overall, this will be fantastic. He will get to create memories that will last throughout his lifetime, and I will get to leave my make-up all over the bathroom counter. As much as I will miss him, I’m glad that he is able to go, and I know that he will be very safe in his travels.

As a token of friendship, I wanted to assure him that while he is away, everything will be just fine at home. I and our other roommate are very responsible individuals, and he has no reason to worry at all about the house, or his belongings, or anything at all. In fact, he can just explore Europe with peace of mind and a clear thought process, uninhibited by irrational fears or worries of what might happen at home.  Seriously, just have a little faith. I can see all those ‘what-if’ scenarios, and really, you have nothing to worry about.

 Like, zip, zilch, nada, naught, diddly squat, nothing.

What if the plants die?

Plant Needs: So, if you’ve read previous blog posts, you’ll know that I’m not the greatest supporter of plants. However, I respect that because these plants belong to others, they will actually need to be taken care of. Now, just because you may have witnessed me screaming, “Grow, Whore, grow!” at the various house plants, please believe me when I say that I can have a tender side towards these potted companions. I will either find this elusive side hidden away within me, or pay someone else to come do it. Same goes for the garden. (Oh, and p.s. can you BELIEVE someone trusts ME to take care of an entire GARDEN? There are really no words…) Ahem, just relax, and let me take care of everything. I have high hopes that all of our green friends will be blooming and gorgeous and will have won multiple blue ribbons at county fairs by the time you get back. Yep. The future is bright…

What if there’s a fire?

Fire: First of all, we are not arsonists. In fact, our lease actually prevents us from having any open flames within our dwelling, so even if we were bonfire inclined, we would need to find another location. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I did happen to cause an evacuation of our house growing up due to a slight cooking mishap. But realistically, I was eight, and didn’t know that putting chicken nuggets in the microwave for 30 minutes could cause such damage. I meant to stop the timer sooner, I just got distracted. Anyway, it was a long time ago. Oh, and that water heater thing at my last place, not my fault. Besides those, there was only that one other time… wow, so, just remember, nothing to worry about there. Moving right along.

How will my fish cope?

Pet Care: This area in particular is one that I really expect to shine in. Never mind me not having a pet growing up, and excluding my pet bird named Squazzil that lives in the great outdoors and is, for the most part, imaginary, I am determined to succeed in taking care of the house fish! I am going to feed the fish every day. Because, like people, fish need food. That’s important. I would never, ever, ever forget to feed your fish. Even if I was simultaneously fighting off a burglar trying to pelt me with water balloons while he forced me to make him a plate of macaroni and cheese. Even then, I would feed your fish! But not macaroni and cheese. No sir, you do not feed fish macaroni and cheese. Or cake. Or broccoli. Oh, and I won’t put food coloring in his tank either. No shenanigans on this task, I promise!

 The ‘What-If’ chain of thinking can go on forever. I can hear your thoughts running away with you: What if a tiger gets loose in the neighborhood? What if while I’m away they sell all of my belongings and use the money to feed children in Africa? What if there’s a flood? What if aliens make contact and abduct my two fantastically beautiful, charming, and astoundingly intelligent roommates? What if, what if, what if?

Calm down, take a deep breath, and just realize that it’s all going to be okay. We will take care of all the little things, all the big things, and all the things somewhere in the middle. To be sure, it is much more fun to tackle these challenges with you here. To have company when we make dinner, to have another set of ears to listen to my latest encounter with you-know-who, really everything that happens is better when you’re here to be a part of it. But for now at least, go off and explore La Europa without us. Just remember, you’re in charge of bringing back at least four attractive foreign men back home with you. 

You might want to start looking…

A Word to the Wise

These days, advice is just too easy to find. From the advice column in magazines to the well-informed neighbor down the street, there is always somebody willing to put in their two cents. But really, two cents just doesn't hold the economic power that it used to, and neither does most of the advice that 

comes attached to it.

One source of advice that comes to us is in the form of short sayings and proverbs. In taking a closer look, however, I noticed that perhaps the original bearer of such a line wasn't so much giving advice as he was asking for it. Therefore, I decided to dig into the couch cushions, pull out two cents of my own, and let them know what I think is best. Hey, it even comes with a gum wrapper and a stale Cheeto. You can’t beat that!

It’s like finding a needle in a haystack.

Really? You’re looking for a needle. Don’t they come in packs of like, 8? You’re sure that you need this one? How did it even get in there, were you monogramming a horse, sewing a quilt, giving someone a shot? Ridiculous. I doubt you’re even qualified to be giving shots. What if you find it, then what? The only way you’ll know is if it pokes you, and then you’ll just bleed everywhere, and since you’re not an actual doctor you’ll have to go to the hospital.

 My advice? Swallow your pride. Use my two cents to buy a new needle. And then, for goodness sakes stay away from the hay. The End.

An apple a day keeps the doctor away.

This is too vague to be considered useful. What variety of apple is it you speak of? Red delicious, golden, pink lady perhaps? Can you put the apple inside of stuff and still have it work, such as a pie or juice? Does it even have to be ingested? Or are you just holding an apple in the palm of your hand? And on a more serious note, why don’t you want to be around a doctor? What if you choked on that apple, he/she might come in handy! Oh my…you’re not throwing the apples at medical professionals are you?

My advice? Save yourself a potential lawsuit. Choose a different fruit to eat or hold or whatever it is that you intend to do and behave responsibly! Make an appointment with your physician so that you can remain healthy, and treat him/her with respect when you’re there. The End.

Clothes don’t make the man. 

Well, unless magical potions or enchantments are involved, I agree with this one. Clothes are inanimate objects, and therefore lack the necessary skills to make much of anything besides a mess. The only loophole I see that might be worth investigating is whether or not clothes could make a scarecrow. But that is a stretch.

My advice? Overall, this is relatively good advice, don’t be afraid of little men springing up from piles of clothes and full closets. The End.

Dead men tell no tales.

Uhh, have you seen the History channel? Their whole premise is that dead men CAN do just that very thing. What were you doing, wandering around cemeteries with a microphone? Amateur.

My advice? Get cable. Or get a job working for the History Channel. Either will solve your problem and sheer lack of understanding.

Honey catches more flies than vinegar.

So, I don’t know about you, but I detest flies. Especially when they are near me. So, if you are advising I cover myself with vinegar and keep my attitude bitter and acidic then I think this advice is great, and should be marketed alongside pesticides and sprays. If, however, you are encouraging me to invest in honey,

 you’ve got another thing coming.

My advice? You obviously have an abnormal attachment to gross bugs and insects. Take a bath, lose the flies. You might gain some human companions in the process. The End.

People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.

Number one, who in their right mind is going to live in a house made entirely of glass? How would they even build it? How much Windex would they use in a day? Number two, that is just prejudice. Just because someone does choose to live a lifestyle that you don’t agree with, doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be able to throw a stone or two. Skipping rocks is a favorite pastime of many people, regardless of their habitat construction materials.

 My advice? Drop the hate. Next time you feel the urge to throw stones, ask a glass housed neighbor to join you. You might even make a good friend. The End.

So there you are folks, a whopping twelve cents from yours truly. Now don’t go spending it all in one place now, ya hear?

'My Time Without Internet'

Surprise! I am thrilled to inform all of you that my dark days of not having internet access are...over! The wonderful, glorious, hat wearing repair guy came today, took one look at the wiring, and BAM! (Insert glitter, a whooshing sound effect, and a few electrical sparks.) 

Now that this crises has passed, it would be easy to move on, let go of old hurts, and resume my business of writing about useless things. However, instead of doing that, I feel I need to share what my life has been like without blogging and the internet, and how I have done everything within my power to return to all of you. I warn you, these things are hard to look at. They depict a desperate, raw pain, and the great lengths that one can go to try and diminish that pain. Gather your tissues, and join me as I undergo healing from

 'My Time Without Internet'. 

In the beginning, I was optimistic about my situation. I used my brain waves to send positivity signals to my computer. Focusing my energy, I tried to write numerous, witty blogs. To my dismay, this plan was an utter failure, and only resulted in a headache. 

I began looking around and noticing all the people around me that did have access to the world wide web. And I was angry. They sat there, so cozy in their houses, warmed by the internet, so full of knowledge and power. Meanwhile, I was stuck outside in their bushes, vulnerable to the elements and gross bugs, just craning my neck in to see what was happening on the monitor. 

The streets became terrorized by my panic. I found old ladies in crosswalks, and attempted to give interactive Facebook status updates. It was a low point, begging random strangers to simply give me a thumbs up and say, "like". Because the truth is, they didn't like. Not at all. 

Refusing to give up, I forced myself to recognize that there was once a time without internet, or computers, or tweets. Filled with heavy sorrow, I began to chisel out some ideas on a rock I found in my backyard. It was an agonizing process, and lasted all of ten minutes. 

And this, my dear readers, is where I fell apart. Yesterday afternoon, while you were going about your daily business, I was on the phone for the 200th time with my internet provider, or rather non-provider. After attacking old ladies, trespassing on private property, and writing illegibly on rocks, I had had enough, as had my new neighbors. And finally, miraculously, someone finally clued in to how dire the situation really was. They took in my despondent soul in between sobs, and promised me that they would, indeed,

 make it all better.

 They told me that they would send out a repair man, and that they would not be allowed to leave my house until everything worked. I asked them, "So, what you're saying is that I have permission to hold your employee hostage here, until you meet my demands?" After a stunned silence, I heard a cough, and then Tony (my customer service representative) said, "Well...uh... yes. I guess." Luckily for all involved, the critical issue of internet connection difficulties was resolved without further drastic measures. 

Well, there you have it. A detailed account of my life during this past week. The accuracy of the events you must judge for yourselves.I will say that Tony is 100% real, as was our conversation. Poor guy. Anyway, now that all is fixed, I hope to be writing more consistently. Oh, and if it was your grandmother that talked me through my Facebook panic attack, she was absolutely lovely. You're very lucky to have her.