Nobody knows that I am here. I'm like a vapor floating high above everyones heads. I am here, but they can't see me. I can see them, but I am transparent. I watch them. They don't know that they are being watched, and that is a good thing. It means they will behave as naturally as possible. I keep intelligence on everyone in this family. One never knows when it will come in handy. Bargaining chips I like to call this intelligence.
I see the short curly haired girl stuff handfuls of dry cereal into the couch cushions of my roommate's girlfriend's couch. I see the tall pretty girl kick the puggle when they are out for a walk. I watch the tall kid stare into the mirror in the bathroom admiring his long hair. I watch as he gets his face as close to the mirror as he can so that he can admire his little fuzzy moustache. Similarly, I see it when my roommate stands shirtless in front of the mirror in his bathroom and sucks his stomach in to see what his profile looks like. Sometimes I snicker to myself, "Yep. You're still fat!"
I know how much time my roommate's girlfriend spends online while he is at work. I know the baby eats puggle food, because I've watched her do it while she is sitting in the puggle cage! I watch the short kid with glasses go through his brother's stuff. I listen to the short kid with glasses sing Bon Jovi songs while he is going through his brother's stuff. I know why my roommate's girlfriend leaves lunch fixings all over the counter until he comes home from work.
I know it sounds awful - spying on people in my own home, but it is really useful stuff! For instance, I know for a fact who colored on the wall with the red Sharpie marker. I also know who poked a hole in the celling tile downstairs. Everyone knows that the tall pretty girl smashed in a row of celling tiles downstairs, but she and I are the only ones who truly know how it happened! (Except she doesn't know that I know)! I know who keeps eating all the peanut butter. I know how the door leading into the hallway of the suite got broken. I know why there are half eaten poptarts stored in the wicker chest in the living room. I can probably tell you the origin of every single wet spot my roommate has stumbled across in the house - on the carpet AND on furniture. I and I alone know the real reason why the baby is crying! I also know why my roommate found a cup of applesauce in the drawer of his girlfriend's grandmother's sewing machine.
These people think that they get away with stuff. If they only knew! I keep all this information to myself, because as I have said, I never know when some of this intelligence will get me out of a jam. I can't just reveal everything all at once. However, I will offer one piece of free advice: if something winds up missing in that house? Three words: Check the backpack.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
Five in the Hive
I could produce a reality show. I mean, how hard can it be? I've watched thousands of hours of reality television with my roommate's girlfriend over the years, and I have decided that I wouldn't even have to leave this house to produce my own show.
Five in the Hive: Survival of the Fittest
Short curly haired girl sits at the breakfast table in a chair two feet away from her cereal bowl. Milk and cereal falls on the floor because despite being two feet away from her bowl, she is eating anyway. Tall pretty girl comes into the kitchen looking for something to eat. Short kid with glasses enters the den heading to the kitchen at the same time. He asks the tall pretty girl if she has taken the puggle out to pee. Tall pretty girl sighs, rolls her eyes, and complains out loud about the injustice of it all. Meanwhile, the puggle is clawing and scratching inside his crate and whining in high pitched sounds. The girlfriend comes in and tells the tall pretty girl to take the puggle out. Tall pretty girl rolls her eyes and stomps outside dragging the puggle behind her. Short curly haired girl announces that the puggle poops a lot. Short kid with glasses complains that the short curly haired girl is talking about poop while he is trying to eat his pop tart. Girlfriend shouts at the tall kid from the kitchen telling him to hurry up. Tall kid doesn't respond. Tall pretty girl comes back inside with the puggle, but leaves the morning newspaper on the driveway. Short curly haired girl hops out of the chair and splashes in the milk she has spilled. She demands a napkin to wipe off her feet. Short kid with glasses tells short curly haired girl to get her own napkin. Short curly haired girl slugs short kid with glasses on the arm and calls him a "meanie-head." Short kid with glasses whines out loud and tells the girlfriend that the short curly haired girl assaulted him. Girlfriend takes a swig of coke and removes her morning egg roll from the toaster oven and tells short kid with glasses to get over it. Before the short kid with glasses can complain, girlfriend yells for the tall kid again. Tall kid doesn't respond. Sponge Bob Square Pants is about to segue into Dora the Explorer or Max and Ruby on the television. This is bad, because it means the girlfriend is running late. The panic sets in. Girlfriend quickly packs her lunch and instructs the tall pretty girl to pack her lunch and to help the short kid with glasses pack his too. Girlfriend hustles downstairs to begin loading the minivan. Short kid with glasses and tall pretty girl get into a scuffle over who gets the chocolate pudding. The lunches don't get packed because the kids are fighting. The short curly haired girl tells them to be quiet because she can't hear her show. Girlfriend comes back up the stairs to find the short kid with glasses crying and the tall pretty girl putting chocolate pudding into HER lunchbox. Girlfriend again issues the "get over it" command, and then calls out to the tall kid one more time. Tall kid stumbles into the den half dressed and barefooted. Girlfriend becomes irate. "Why aren't you dressed? Don't you know that we are about to leave?" Tall kid flips his damp hair out of his eyes and tells her that he is sorry. Girlfriend brushes past him on her way back out of the door. Tall kid asks what's for breakfast. Girlfriend moans and tells tall kid that his cheese toast is in the toaster oven. Tall kid slowly sits down and watches television with short curly haired girl while he methodically puts on his shoes. Downstairs, the van cranks to life. Tall pretty girl tells short kid with glasses to hurry up and get out of the way. Short kid with glasses tells the tall pretty girl to shut up. Tall kid finishes tying shoes and tells short curly haired girl goodbye and he slowly makes his way to the van as the girlfriend is backing out of the carport. Tall kid gets in and complains that he is hungry.
Meanwhile, my roommate comes out to the kitchen, pours a cup of coffee, looks into the toaster oven and says, "Hey cool! Cheese toast!"
That was only the first thirty minutes of the day.
I can make millions . . . . !
Five in the Hive: Survival of the Fittest
Short curly haired girl sits at the breakfast table in a chair two feet away from her cereal bowl. Milk and cereal falls on the floor because despite being two feet away from her bowl, she is eating anyway. Tall pretty girl comes into the kitchen looking for something to eat. Short kid with glasses enters the den heading to the kitchen at the same time. He asks the tall pretty girl if she has taken the puggle out to pee. Tall pretty girl sighs, rolls her eyes, and complains out loud about the injustice of it all. Meanwhile, the puggle is clawing and scratching inside his crate and whining in high pitched sounds. The girlfriend comes in and tells the tall pretty girl to take the puggle out. Tall pretty girl rolls her eyes and stomps outside dragging the puggle behind her. Short curly haired girl announces that the puggle poops a lot. Short kid with glasses complains that the short curly haired girl is talking about poop while he is trying to eat his pop tart. Girlfriend shouts at the tall kid from the kitchen telling him to hurry up. Tall kid doesn't respond. Tall pretty girl comes back inside with the puggle, but leaves the morning newspaper on the driveway. Short curly haired girl hops out of the chair and splashes in the milk she has spilled. She demands a napkin to wipe off her feet. Short kid with glasses tells short curly haired girl to get her own napkin. Short curly haired girl slugs short kid with glasses on the arm and calls him a "meanie-head." Short kid with glasses whines out loud and tells the girlfriend that the short curly haired girl assaulted him. Girlfriend takes a swig of coke and removes her morning egg roll from the toaster oven and tells short kid with glasses to get over it. Before the short kid with glasses can complain, girlfriend yells for the tall kid again. Tall kid doesn't respond. Sponge Bob Square Pants is about to segue into Dora the Explorer or Max and Ruby on the television. This is bad, because it means the girlfriend is running late. The panic sets in. Girlfriend quickly packs her lunch and instructs the tall pretty girl to pack her lunch and to help the short kid with glasses pack his too. Girlfriend hustles downstairs to begin loading the minivan. Short kid with glasses and tall pretty girl get into a scuffle over who gets the chocolate pudding. The lunches don't get packed because the kids are fighting. The short curly haired girl tells them to be quiet because she can't hear her show. Girlfriend comes back up the stairs to find the short kid with glasses crying and the tall pretty girl putting chocolate pudding into HER lunchbox. Girlfriend again issues the "get over it" command, and then calls out to the tall kid one more time. Tall kid stumbles into the den half dressed and barefooted. Girlfriend becomes irate. "Why aren't you dressed? Don't you know that we are about to leave?" Tall kid flips his damp hair out of his eyes and tells her that he is sorry. Girlfriend brushes past him on her way back out of the door. Tall kid asks what's for breakfast. Girlfriend moans and tells tall kid that his cheese toast is in the toaster oven. Tall kid slowly sits down and watches television with short curly haired girl while he methodically puts on his shoes. Downstairs, the van cranks to life. Tall pretty girl tells short kid with glasses to hurry up and get out of the way. Short kid with glasses tells the tall pretty girl to shut up. Tall kid finishes tying shoes and tells short curly haired girl goodbye and he slowly makes his way to the van as the girlfriend is backing out of the carport. Tall kid gets in and complains that he is hungry.
Meanwhile, my roommate comes out to the kitchen, pours a cup of coffee, looks into the toaster oven and says, "Hey cool! Cheese toast!"
That was only the first thirty minutes of the day.
I can make millions . . . . !
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Call Cannot be Completed as Dialed
So there he sits - my roommate - in his chair. From this perch, he runs the household with a mighty hand. From this chair, commands are issued. From this chair, children are corrected. From this chair of power, my roommate, is the king of his castle.
(Remote control located on coffee table - two feet from the chair) "Short curly haired girl! Hand me the remote control!"
(Stupid puggle barking outside) "Tall pretty girl! Take puggle out for a walk."
(Girlfriend walks through den in front of the chair) "Girlfriend! Bring me a glass of water!"
(Light in the kitchen is on) "Tall kid! Turn off that light!"
(Baby wanders out of the room unsupervised) "Short kid with glasses! Find the baby!"
My roommate is the man. Just ask him. He'll tell you. People in the house wilt in the presence of his intellect. They tremble when he is upset. They weep when he leaves home and rejoice upon his return.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Do me a favor. Call my roommate on his cell. Send him a text. See what happens. I'll tell you what will happen - nothing. Absolutely nothing.
The all knowing, wise, powerful, roommate left his BlackBerry on his car the other day and drove away with it still on the hood. He didn't realize that he had done it until thirty minutes later. Genius. How I wish I could have seen his face when he realized what he had done! Oh how I wish I could have seen him running into oncoming traffic to rescue the shattered remains of his BlackBerry! Oh how I wish I could have seen him trying to fit the battery back into the phone!
What a doorknob!
(Remote control located on coffee table - two feet from the chair) "Short curly haired girl! Hand me the remote control!"
(Stupid puggle barking outside) "Tall pretty girl! Take puggle out for a walk."
(Girlfriend walks through den in front of the chair) "Girlfriend! Bring me a glass of water!"
(Light in the kitchen is on) "Tall kid! Turn off that light!"
(Baby wanders out of the room unsupervised) "Short kid with glasses! Find the baby!"
My roommate is the man. Just ask him. He'll tell you. People in the house wilt in the presence of his intellect. They tremble when he is upset. They weep when he leaves home and rejoice upon his return.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Do me a favor. Call my roommate on his cell. Send him a text. See what happens. I'll tell you what will happen - nothing. Absolutely nothing.
The all knowing, wise, powerful, roommate left his BlackBerry on his car the other day and drove away with it still on the hood. He didn't realize that he had done it until thirty minutes later. Genius. How I wish I could have seen his face when he realized what he had done! Oh how I wish I could have seen him running into oncoming traffic to rescue the shattered remains of his BlackBerry! Oh how I wish I could have seen him trying to fit the battery back into the phone!
What a doorknob!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
The Killing Fields
Today I went for a walk. It was a beautiful day. The sun was out, the temperature was just right, and there was a slight breeze. Perfect weather for a walk! Recently, the weather has been terrible, and everyone in the house has had cabin fever. There is only so much one can do indoors before beginning to go just a little stir crazy. I, like my roommate, crave "alone time," so I was excited to get that chance today in the peaceful solitude of a late afternoon stroll.
HOWEVER, my walk was immediately compromised. At the exact same time I left the house, my roommate released his children out into the neighborhood, too. I was almost killed (or at the very least, maimed) by the tornado of scooters and bicycles that blew past me. I was sent hurtling into a lone shrubbery in a neighboring yard. Cursing under my breath, I quickly looked up to see in which direction the children were headed. Ahhh! Down the street, first right, second driveway on the left - Grandma's house!
Well, what the heck? When I began my jaunt, I had no destination in mind. Grandma's house might be a good place to go to today. I brushed myself off and emerged back onto the street from behind the shrub and proceeded to Grandma's.
As I approached the house, I heard a sobbing child. The closer I got to the house, the more distinct the crying became - it was the short kid with glasses. I snuck down the driveway, carefully avoiding the tall pretty girl who almost ran over me again as she flew down the drive on her bike. As I turned the corner, I saw the short kid with glasses sitting on the edge of the patio. Grandma was telling him that everything would be okay. He was sniveling and crying and sobbing and insisting that everything would NOT be okay, because the tall kid had pushed him off of his scooter. Grandma gave up and went back inside. Short kid with glasses continued to weep, but eventually got back onto his scooter, probably encouraged by the fear of Grandpa coming outside to reprimand him. Nobody wants a Grandpa beatdown!
Once he was on the scooter, his crying ceased, and he rejoined the others in the playful, Grandma's house, frolicking. The tall kid encouraged the short kid with glasses to join him in the front yard. He quickly responded and shot around the corner and down the driveway.
I am not exactly sure of the specifics of what happened next, because I was trying to keep a wary eye on the short curly haired kid who was riding in circles on her tricycle precariously close to where I was sitting. However, I remember hearing an awful sound. I heard a scream from the tall pretty girl. I heard a shout from the short kid with glasses. And I heard laughter from the tall kid. Then - BOOM!
The short kid with glasses had inadvertently guided his scooter directly into the path of the tall pretty girl on her bike. She was traveling at a high rate of speed, as was the short kid with glasses. As I mentioned before, I did not actually see the impact, but the aftermath was horrific. The short kid with glasses wound up on his side in the neighbor's yard and the tall pretty girl was thrown from her bike into Grandma's driveway. Her foot had been caught in the spokes and her knee had served as a flesh brake to slow her skidding on the driveway. Blood, tears, and sweat. (I refuse to arrange these words in the most popular order).
The tall kid feigned concern as he choked down his laughter. The short kid with glasses, however, who was furious that the tall pretty girl had knocked him off his scooter, composed himself when he saw the carnage. Grandma came out to see what had happened, and she quickly came down to assist. The short curly haired girl jumped off of her tricycle and flung it aside to run over to check on the tall pretty girl, screaming "Ohmygosh, Ohmygosh, Ohmygosh!" I pushed the discarded tricycle off of me and jockeyed for a position to see what was happening.
Long story short, Grandma saved the day by putting medicine and band aids on the tall pretty girl, Grandpa doesn't get any accolades today because he informed the tall pretty girl that the medicine Grandma was going to administer would "sting like hell." This resulted in terrified screaming pre-medication. Short curly haired girl tried to cheer up tall pretty girl by presenting her with an earthworm she had found, but wound up sending the tall pretty girl into hysterical crying again when she accidentally tore the worm in half. Short curly haired girl, upon seeing tall pretty girl's distress, immediately ran inside and told Grandma that she didn't mean to "break the worm." Tall kid rides his bike past the patio and asks the tall pretty girl why she quit riding bikes, which reminds the tall pretty girl that she was injured because of the short kid with glasses. The tall pretty girl yells at the short kid with glasses out of frustration, and the short kid with glasses starts to cry again, because he claimed that her accusation was not fair, because he didn't mean to make her crash, and besides - it was her fault that she wrecked because she is a girl and that obviously means that she automatically is not a good bike rider.
Due to the aforementioned tricycle accident, I quietly limped home and went to bed.
Can anyone tell me who did well on American Idol? I hope that the JT wannabe and the dopey youth director looking guy buy the farm tomorrow night.
HOWEVER, my walk was immediately compromised. At the exact same time I left the house, my roommate released his children out into the neighborhood, too. I was almost killed (or at the very least, maimed) by the tornado of scooters and bicycles that blew past me. I was sent hurtling into a lone shrubbery in a neighboring yard. Cursing under my breath, I quickly looked up to see in which direction the children were headed. Ahhh! Down the street, first right, second driveway on the left - Grandma's house!
Well, what the heck? When I began my jaunt, I had no destination in mind. Grandma's house might be a good place to go to today. I brushed myself off and emerged back onto the street from behind the shrub and proceeded to Grandma's.
As I approached the house, I heard a sobbing child. The closer I got to the house, the more distinct the crying became - it was the short kid with glasses. I snuck down the driveway, carefully avoiding the tall pretty girl who almost ran over me again as she flew down the drive on her bike. As I turned the corner, I saw the short kid with glasses sitting on the edge of the patio. Grandma was telling him that everything would be okay. He was sniveling and crying and sobbing and insisting that everything would NOT be okay, because the tall kid had pushed him off of his scooter. Grandma gave up and went back inside. Short kid with glasses continued to weep, but eventually got back onto his scooter, probably encouraged by the fear of Grandpa coming outside to reprimand him. Nobody wants a Grandpa beatdown!
Once he was on the scooter, his crying ceased, and he rejoined the others in the playful, Grandma's house, frolicking. The tall kid encouraged the short kid with glasses to join him in the front yard. He quickly responded and shot around the corner and down the driveway.
I am not exactly sure of the specifics of what happened next, because I was trying to keep a wary eye on the short curly haired kid who was riding in circles on her tricycle precariously close to where I was sitting. However, I remember hearing an awful sound. I heard a scream from the tall pretty girl. I heard a shout from the short kid with glasses. And I heard laughter from the tall kid. Then - BOOM!
The short kid with glasses had inadvertently guided his scooter directly into the path of the tall pretty girl on her bike. She was traveling at a high rate of speed, as was the short kid with glasses. As I mentioned before, I did not actually see the impact, but the aftermath was horrific. The short kid with glasses wound up on his side in the neighbor's yard and the tall pretty girl was thrown from her bike into Grandma's driveway. Her foot had been caught in the spokes and her knee had served as a flesh brake to slow her skidding on the driveway. Blood, tears, and sweat. (I refuse to arrange these words in the most popular order).
The tall kid feigned concern as he choked down his laughter. The short kid with glasses, however, who was furious that the tall pretty girl had knocked him off his scooter, composed himself when he saw the carnage. Grandma came out to see what had happened, and she quickly came down to assist. The short curly haired girl jumped off of her tricycle and flung it aside to run over to check on the tall pretty girl, screaming "Ohmygosh, Ohmygosh, Ohmygosh!" I pushed the discarded tricycle off of me and jockeyed for a position to see what was happening.
Long story short, Grandma saved the day by putting medicine and band aids on the tall pretty girl, Grandpa doesn't get any accolades today because he informed the tall pretty girl that the medicine Grandma was going to administer would "sting like hell." This resulted in terrified screaming pre-medication. Short curly haired girl tried to cheer up tall pretty girl by presenting her with an earthworm she had found, but wound up sending the tall pretty girl into hysterical crying again when she accidentally tore the worm in half. Short curly haired girl, upon seeing tall pretty girl's distress, immediately ran inside and told Grandma that she didn't mean to "break the worm." Tall kid rides his bike past the patio and asks the tall pretty girl why she quit riding bikes, which reminds the tall pretty girl that she was injured because of the short kid with glasses. The tall pretty girl yells at the short kid with glasses out of frustration, and the short kid with glasses starts to cry again, because he claimed that her accusation was not fair, because he didn't mean to make her crash, and besides - it was her fault that she wrecked because she is a girl and that obviously means that she automatically is not a good bike rider.
Due to the aforementioned tricycle accident, I quietly limped home and went to bed.
Can anyone tell me who did well on American Idol? I hope that the JT wannabe and the dopey youth director looking guy buy the farm tomorrow night.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
CSI Miami
Have not posted in a while. My roommate is watching CSI Miami right now and it is past midnight. That can only mean that it is a weekend. Re-runs. Sad life that boy has. I love sitting underneath the girlfriend's coffee table.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
No Hurricanes in Alabama!
The short curly haired girl's best friend forever came over for a visit today from Alabama. Everybody in the house likes it when she comes over, because the short curly haired girl is completely distracted. It gives everyone a break.
I was in the kitchen this evening while BFF and the short curly haired girl were hanging out. While making a snack, I heard the short curly haired girl begging BFF to play hide and seek. BFF was complying for the most part, but even she, the BFF, apparently can get worn down and worn out by the short curly haired girl. I guessed that they had been at the game for a long time before I arrived in the kitchen, because it seemed as if BFF was beginning to get annoyed. Of course, I could've just been projecting my own low tolerance of the short curly haired girl onto BFF. Who knows? Maybe BFF was having fun, but I digress . . .
I quickly realized that this was one of those moments that was comical and yet sad - all at once. The short curly haired girl would tell BFF to hide. BFF would say okay, and the short curly haired girl would go off to count . . . . to 2. Meanwhile, BFF would put a blanket over her head while she remained seated on the couch. The short curly haired girl, having counted all the way to 2, would then shout, "Weadynot! EreI coming!" Four seconds later, having traversed the distance from the kitchen to the den, the short curly haired girl would scream with glee upon finding the BFF under the blanket. Over and over this happened until finally the BFF got a phone call. The call - which I still claim was staged- told the BFF that she had to meet her family for dinner.
I braced myself for the ensuing chaos. You see, every time BFF leaves after a visit, the short curly haired girl melts down into a pathetic, wailing, mess. Tonight however, BFF pulled a fast one. She waited until the short curly haired girl was distracted in another room, and then she silently left to "meet her family."
I waited with anxious anticipation to see what would unfold next. What would happen when the little demon came back into the den to find her BFF gone? Finally, she came back into the den and she began to search for her BFF. "Where is she?" the short curly haired girl questioned. She began to have a desperate look in her eyes. I braced for her to begin screaming and crying. "WHERE IS SHE?!?" This was going to be bad. I just knew it. I began to plan my exit strategy from the room, because every time the short curly haired girl gets mad, she winds up taking it out on me. Go figure.
However, this evening did not turn out the way I expected at all. Instead, my bumbling roommate actually pulled a fast one! Right before the short curly haired girl lost it, my roommate intervened in a beautiful manner. He got her attention and then told her that BFF was still playing hide and seek and that she must have found the perfect hiding place this time. The short curly haired girl looked at my roommate as if she was trying to size him up. Was he telling the truth, or was he just blowing smoke again? I waited in the kitchen with baited breath to see what would transpire next.
The short curly haired girl looked at my roommate. Then she looked over her shoulder to the couch. Then she looked at my roommate again. She cautiously crept to the couch and picked up the blanket that BFF had previously used for a hiding place. Not finding BFF this time, she quietly looked back at my roommate again to see if he was bluffing. Realizing that he was serious, the short curly haired girl dropped the blanket, painted her face with a devilish grin, and shouted at the top of her lungs, " One! Two! Weadynot! EreI coming!"
She looked for BFF until my roommate's girlfriend put her to bed.
Brilliant.
I was in the kitchen this evening while BFF and the short curly haired girl were hanging out. While making a snack, I heard the short curly haired girl begging BFF to play hide and seek. BFF was complying for the most part, but even she, the BFF, apparently can get worn down and worn out by the short curly haired girl. I guessed that they had been at the game for a long time before I arrived in the kitchen, because it seemed as if BFF was beginning to get annoyed. Of course, I could've just been projecting my own low tolerance of the short curly haired girl onto BFF. Who knows? Maybe BFF was having fun, but I digress . . .
I quickly realized that this was one of those moments that was comical and yet sad - all at once. The short curly haired girl would tell BFF to hide. BFF would say okay, and the short curly haired girl would go off to count . . . . to 2. Meanwhile, BFF would put a blanket over her head while she remained seated on the couch. The short curly haired girl, having counted all the way to 2, would then shout, "Weadynot! EreI coming!" Four seconds later, having traversed the distance from the kitchen to the den, the short curly haired girl would scream with glee upon finding the BFF under the blanket. Over and over this happened until finally the BFF got a phone call. The call - which I still claim was staged- told the BFF that she had to meet her family for dinner.
I braced myself for the ensuing chaos. You see, every time BFF leaves after a visit, the short curly haired girl melts down into a pathetic, wailing, mess. Tonight however, BFF pulled a fast one. She waited until the short curly haired girl was distracted in another room, and then she silently left to "meet her family."
I waited with anxious anticipation to see what would unfold next. What would happen when the little demon came back into the den to find her BFF gone? Finally, she came back into the den and she began to search for her BFF. "Where is she?" the short curly haired girl questioned. She began to have a desperate look in her eyes. I braced for her to begin screaming and crying. "WHERE IS SHE?!?" This was going to be bad. I just knew it. I began to plan my exit strategy from the room, because every time the short curly haired girl gets mad, she winds up taking it out on me. Go figure.
However, this evening did not turn out the way I expected at all. Instead, my bumbling roommate actually pulled a fast one! Right before the short curly haired girl lost it, my roommate intervened in a beautiful manner. He got her attention and then told her that BFF was still playing hide and seek and that she must have found the perfect hiding place this time. The short curly haired girl looked at my roommate as if she was trying to size him up. Was he telling the truth, or was he just blowing smoke again? I waited in the kitchen with baited breath to see what would transpire next.
The short curly haired girl looked at my roommate. Then she looked over her shoulder to the couch. Then she looked at my roommate again. She cautiously crept to the couch and picked up the blanket that BFF had previously used for a hiding place. Not finding BFF this time, she quietly looked back at my roommate again to see if he was bluffing. Realizing that he was serious, the short curly haired girl dropped the blanket, painted her face with a devilish grin, and shouted at the top of her lungs, " One! Two! Weadynot! EreI coming!"
She looked for BFF until my roommate's girlfriend put her to bed.
Brilliant.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Short kid with glasses MELTS DOWN
Today was irritating to say the least. Everybody in the house was a little bit off kilter for some reason. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something was definitely in the air today.
The tall kid was acting like a punk, the tall pretty girl was tired and cranky after a sleep-over, the short curly haired girl (who's always annoying) was especially nerve grating, the baby was in a bad mood, my roommate's girlfriend was testy all day, because my roommate lost HIS temper this morning over something stupid. BUT the short kid with glasses literally cried all day long.
Tall kid teases short kid with glasses (skwg) while playing a video game - skwg cries. Tall pretty girl tells skwg that she wants to watch a different television show - skwg cries. Short curly haired girl, completely unprovoked, whacks skwg on the head with an inanimte object - skwg cries. (I'll give him that one, though. She's a demon)! Puggle from hell yanks him off his scooter - skwg cries. Roommate can't fix his bicycle tire - skwg cries. Skwg is offered a hotdog for supper when he really wanted a hamburger - skwg cries. The moons of Saturn were misalligned, Michelle Obama went sleeveless again, A-Rod took steroids, it doesn't snow in July, mop water tastes bad, Horatio Caine talks in short, choppy, sentences, the light over the master bathroom toilet burned out - THE SHORT KID WITH GLASSES cried.
Tomorrow has GOT to be better. I survived today by staying outside a lot. It is supposed to rain tomorrow. I don't like being wet.
The tall kid was acting like a punk, the tall pretty girl was tired and cranky after a sleep-over, the short curly haired girl (who's always annoying) was especially nerve grating, the baby was in a bad mood, my roommate's girlfriend was testy all day, because my roommate lost HIS temper this morning over something stupid. BUT the short kid with glasses literally cried all day long.
Tall kid teases short kid with glasses (skwg) while playing a video game - skwg cries. Tall pretty girl tells skwg that she wants to watch a different television show - skwg cries. Short curly haired girl, completely unprovoked, whacks skwg on the head with an inanimte object - skwg cries. (I'll give him that one, though. She's a demon)! Puggle from hell yanks him off his scooter - skwg cries. Roommate can't fix his bicycle tire - skwg cries. Skwg is offered a hotdog for supper when he really wanted a hamburger - skwg cries. The moons of Saturn were misalligned, Michelle Obama went sleeveless again, A-Rod took steroids, it doesn't snow in July, mop water tastes bad, Horatio Caine talks in short, choppy, sentences, the light over the master bathroom toilet burned out - THE SHORT KID WITH GLASSES cried.
Tomorrow has GOT to be better. I survived today by staying outside a lot. It is supposed to rain tomorrow. I don't like being wet.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Not just for cobbler anymore
Interesting. Tonight I am blogging with the assistance of my roommate's "BlackBerry." Of course, I didn't ask for this - he is simply too lazy to go get our laptop out of the car downstairs.
I had mentioned earlier that I felt like blogging. He just sat there and told me the laptop was in his car and he wasn't going to get it. I told him I'd go get it, but he said he didn't remember what he'd done with the keys. Sigh! He is so maddening sometimes!
I wasn't going to argue with him, though. "Fine," I thought. "I just won't blog tonight."
An hour or so later, my roommate asks me why I wasn't blogging yet. "Well, idiot," I thought, "the laptop is in the car, you lost the keys, and the tall kid is on the desktop watching crappy Aerosmith videos from their pathetic 90's resurrection from their drug and alcohol induced obscurity period. THAT'S why I'm not blogging! Idiot!"
But rather than explain this to him verbally, I just looked over my shoulder at him, shrugged, and squinted at him. Then he says, "Here ya go."And he tosses me his phone. "Blog with this."
Since I don't catch, the phone hit me in the head and bounced on to the floor. I peered at it on the floor from my perch on the couch while my roommate came over to pick it up. He handed it to me and told me again that I could blog with his "BlackBerry."
I was perplexed. This device is so small! I can blog with it? Really? He showed me how to work the device, and now I am so fascinted with this "BlackBerry," I have forgotten what I had originally wanted to blog about.
I think it had something to do with washcloths, but I honestly can't recall . . .
I had mentioned earlier that I felt like blogging. He just sat there and told me the laptop was in his car and he wasn't going to get it. I told him I'd go get it, but he said he didn't remember what he'd done with the keys. Sigh! He is so maddening sometimes!
I wasn't going to argue with him, though. "Fine," I thought. "I just won't blog tonight."
An hour or so later, my roommate asks me why I wasn't blogging yet. "Well, idiot," I thought, "the laptop is in the car, you lost the keys, and the tall kid is on the desktop watching crappy Aerosmith videos from their pathetic 90's resurrection from their drug and alcohol induced obscurity period. THAT'S why I'm not blogging! Idiot!"
But rather than explain this to him verbally, I just looked over my shoulder at him, shrugged, and squinted at him. Then he says, "Here ya go."And he tosses me his phone. "Blog with this."
Since I don't catch, the phone hit me in the head and bounced on to the floor. I peered at it on the floor from my perch on the couch while my roommate came over to pick it up. He handed it to me and told me again that I could blog with his "BlackBerry."
I was perplexed. This device is so small! I can blog with it? Really? He showed me how to work the device, and now I am so fascinted with this "BlackBerry," I have forgotten what I had originally wanted to blog about.
I think it had something to do with washcloths, but I honestly can't recall . . .
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The Girlfriend
I am silent for months. I am encouraged to write again. My roomate coaxes me back to the keyboard and, I reluctantly comply. And for WHAT?!?
To be ridiculed by my roomate's girlfriend - "DC is blogging again, finally, but he talks too much now.".
Well, Miss Girlfriend - sorry to let you down. How's this?
Today? I slept.
(Too wordy for you)?
To be ridiculed by my roomate's girlfriend - "DC is blogging again, finally, but he talks too much now.".
Well, Miss Girlfriend - sorry to let you down. How's this?
Today? I slept.
(Too wordy for you)?
Monday, March 23, 2009
Gone With the Wind (and frankly I don't give a damn)
The kids are gone. All of them - gone. Of course remnants remain - baby dolls left unattended in strollers in the den, socks strewn all down the hall way, panties balled up underneath the toilets, game controllers draped over couches in the living room, sucker sticks stuck to the wall in the hall, stuffed animals crammed headfirst into couch cushions, etc., etc., etc. But now, it is as quiet as a church mouse. Serene and peaceful. Lovely!!
I've got the house to myself for five whole days! Actually, that's not 100% accurate. My roommate is still here, but I can live with that (as long as he will turn the stereo down - it's not like he's in high school with his parents out of town - "Sweet! Mom and dad are gone! Time to crank the tunes!" ~ at 1 in the morning ~ idiot)! It's actually pretty cool when it is just me and him here alone. We don't ever really speak, but we acknowledge the fact that we are both here. I don't want to sound too creepy, but it is kind of nice when it is just me and him. His girlfriend keeps him grounded and everything, but every now and then it's cool for him to remember what it was like back in the day when he was a lonely loser, you know? Humbling experiences never hurt anyone - like the time I got locked in a bathroom for 12 hours, but I digress . . .
With all the kids gone, I've been able to do somethings that just aren't possible with them around. Spying, for instance. I love spying on folks, but when the kids are around, it is virtually impossible. That dang short curly haired kid always blows my cover. I could have the best hiding/spying place in the world, and sure enough, the short curly haired kid will find me. For instance, who knew that she keeps her pretend plastic cell phone under the completely draped table in the den? To most kids, that damn toy phone is considered lost. But not to her! Again, I digress . . .
Spying. I was talking about spying. (How sad that I am still distracted by the currently absent kids . . . )! BUT ANYWAY - with the house empty today, I took the opportunity to do some uninteruppted spying. My roommate had come home for lunch and he had to take the puggle out for a walk. When my roommate takes this idiot out, he always goes out the front door. There is a screen door on the front of the house that doesn't close immediately which leaves a window of opportunity for me to quietly slip out behind them unnoticed. Sometimes, the short curly haired girl slips out, too, but as I mentioned earlier, she's currently gone! The setting was perfect! I was so deft and stealth-like, my roommate didn't even know I had followed him! I was gonna do some sweet, dirt revealing, scandal producing, bonafide, spying! Heh, heh, heh!
I slipped in comfortably behind the largest boxwood in the front flowerbed. LADJJFLJ*7&6! (Sorry. My roommate all of a sudden and completely out of the blue, thought he could sing like the lead singer for Toto - because it is after midnight, the kids are gone, and the stereo is BLARING . . . . My apologies. I'm easily spooked). Now. Where was I?
Ah, yes! The boxwood in the front bed of the house. I quickly settled in to gather intelligence. My roommate, God love him, was visibly irritated with the puggle who would not settle down to "do his business" immediately. I heard him saying, "Would you just hurry up and pee?" I snickered quietly into the back of my hand. Even my roommate, THE MAN OF THE HOUSE (whatev) could not make the puggle submit! This was hilarious. I continued to spy - eager to gather useful information that I could use as leverage in potential situations that might arise in the future. However, I became distracted. My original intent had been to be sharp and keenly aware of EVERYTHING I witnessed. Seriously, this was the first spying expedition I had been on in months without the threat of the short curly haired girl blowing my cover! And yet I slowly but surely realized that the banal stupidity of the puggle was driving me to distraction! I tried to fight it. I tried to remained focused. I tried to be cognizant of the things happening before my spying eyes, but I found myself becoming more and more distracted by the puggle.
My original intent had been to gather intell on my roommate that I could use against him with his girlfriend upon her return home. I mean, how sweet would it be if I had some damaging information on him that would lead to his girlfriend agreeing to let me eat anytime I felt like it? But no! The puggle had me mezmerized. Even though he is a much lesser life form, my attention was screwed into him. For what it is worth, my spying, uninterruptted, is actually top notch. But the puggle has some type of mysterious power over me. This is what my spying revealed today:
I'madogI'madogI'madog! RunrunrunrunrunSITDOWNFAST! Sniffsniffsniffsniffsnort! RunrunrunrunrunincirclesincirclesreallyreallyfastRUNincirclesbutIalreadysaidthatRUN. Digaholerighthereimmediately. Imustdigquicklyfastandfuriousdigdigdig. Isthatpoop? Eateateateatnow! Poopgoodyummyrunrunrunincirclesatspeedof soundletsgoinsidenow! Wait! Digdigdigdigrunrun! Anymore poop? Digrunrundigsitdown.
Damn puggle. Ruined everything today.
I've got the house to myself for five whole days! Actually, that's not 100% accurate. My roommate is still here, but I can live with that (as long as he will turn the stereo down - it's not like he's in high school with his parents out of town - "Sweet! Mom and dad are gone! Time to crank the tunes!" ~ at 1 in the morning ~ idiot)! It's actually pretty cool when it is just me and him here alone. We don't ever really speak, but we acknowledge the fact that we are both here. I don't want to sound too creepy, but it is kind of nice when it is just me and him. His girlfriend keeps him grounded and everything, but every now and then it's cool for him to remember what it was like back in the day when he was a lonely loser, you know? Humbling experiences never hurt anyone - like the time I got locked in a bathroom for 12 hours, but I digress . . .
With all the kids gone, I've been able to do somethings that just aren't possible with them around. Spying, for instance. I love spying on folks, but when the kids are around, it is virtually impossible. That dang short curly haired kid always blows my cover. I could have the best hiding/spying place in the world, and sure enough, the short curly haired kid will find me. For instance, who knew that she keeps her pretend plastic cell phone under the completely draped table in the den? To most kids, that damn toy phone is considered lost. But not to her! Again, I digress . . .
Spying. I was talking about spying. (How sad that I am still distracted by the currently absent kids . . . )! BUT ANYWAY - with the house empty today, I took the opportunity to do some uninteruppted spying. My roommate had come home for lunch and he had to take the puggle out for a walk. When my roommate takes this idiot out, he always goes out the front door. There is a screen door on the front of the house that doesn't close immediately which leaves a window of opportunity for me to quietly slip out behind them unnoticed. Sometimes, the short curly haired girl slips out, too, but as I mentioned earlier, she's currently gone! The setting was perfect! I was so deft and stealth-like, my roommate didn't even know I had followed him! I was gonna do some sweet, dirt revealing, scandal producing, bonafide, spying! Heh, heh, heh!
I slipped in comfortably behind the largest boxwood in the front flowerbed. LADJJFLJ*7&6! (Sorry. My roommate all of a sudden and completely out of the blue, thought he could sing like the lead singer for Toto - because it is after midnight, the kids are gone, and the stereo is BLARING . . . . My apologies. I'm easily spooked). Now. Where was I?
Ah, yes! The boxwood in the front bed of the house. I quickly settled in to gather intelligence. My roommate, God love him, was visibly irritated with the puggle who would not settle down to "do his business" immediately. I heard him saying, "Would you just hurry up and pee?" I snickered quietly into the back of my hand. Even my roommate, THE MAN OF THE HOUSE (whatev) could not make the puggle submit! This was hilarious. I continued to spy - eager to gather useful information that I could use as leverage in potential situations that might arise in the future. However, I became distracted. My original intent had been to be sharp and keenly aware of EVERYTHING I witnessed. Seriously, this was the first spying expedition I had been on in months without the threat of the short curly haired girl blowing my cover! And yet I slowly but surely realized that the banal stupidity of the puggle was driving me to distraction! I tried to fight it. I tried to remained focused. I tried to be cognizant of the things happening before my spying eyes, but I found myself becoming more and more distracted by the puggle.
My original intent had been to gather intell on my roommate that I could use against him with his girlfriend upon her return home. I mean, how sweet would it be if I had some damaging information on him that would lead to his girlfriend agreeing to let me eat anytime I felt like it? But no! The puggle had me mezmerized. Even though he is a much lesser life form, my attention was screwed into him. For what it is worth, my spying, uninterruptted, is actually top notch. But the puggle has some type of mysterious power over me. This is what my spying revealed today:
I'madogI'madogI'madog! RunrunrunrunrunSITDOWNFAST! Sniffsniffsniffsniffsnort! RunrunrunrunrunincirclesincirclesreallyreallyfastRUNincirclesbutIalreadysaidthatRUN. Digaholerighthereimmediately. Imustdigquicklyfastandfuriousdigdigdig. Isthatpoop? Eateateateatnow! Poopgoodyummyrunrunrunincirclesatspeedof soundletsgoinsidenow! Wait! Digdigdigdigrunrun! Anymore poop? Digrunrundigsitdown.
Damn puggle. Ruined everything today.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Happy St. Patrick's Day
I didn't wear green today. The short kid with glasses did, though. That was good enough for me. My roommate told me that on St. Patrick's Day, if you don't wear green, someone will pinch you. I don't quite understand that. Sounds pretty lame, if you ask me - and yet, I found myself looking over my shoulder a bit today, because like I said, I did not wear green. Generally, my roommate's girlfriend manages to keep things civil within the household, so my initial thought was that I would not be pinched, because she would keep a handle on things from getting out of hand. And yet still, one can never tell with the short curly haired girl roaming the premises.
As it turned out, the morning went off without a hitch. Everyone left for work and school, and I was paying attention to everyone and everything as they prepared to leave. Paranoia is not always a pathological thing! Self preservation is important, so I was keenly aware that some of the family had worn green and others had not. I made a note that those wearing green did not harass those who did not. I could have sworn that there would have been some type of pinching episode! But surprisingly there were none. Nothing. Nada! I thought to myself that this was probably a good sign. If they weren't teasing and pinching each other, I was more than likely in the clear. St. Patrick's Day was going to be a breeze! In fact, I was so relaxed after everyone had left that once I heard the last key in the door, I hit the couch, clicked on the television to catch the latest rerun of "In the Heat of the Night,"(because Archie Bunker as a police chief in Mississippi still amuses me to tearful laughter) and was soon taking a serious power nap. I had not worn green in recognition of St. Patrick's Day, but more importantly, I had not been pinched. In fact, I was starting to feel stupid for buying into the fear my roommate had tried to instill within me concerning the ritual pinching.
The hours past and I slept as contently as a rabbit in a patch of lush, green, and very green clover. Soon, I heard a key in the door and I knew I had to get up. However, I was in no hurry to vacate my couch just yet. I figured that I'd hang out a bit and hear about everybody's day before I got up to head outside. I heard nothing out of the ordinary from the reports of the day. Pretty mundane, ordinary stuff - and no reports of pinching surprisingly enough. I was encouraged!
I had finally resolved to get up to make myself useful when it happened. I was feeling pretty good about avoiding the unusually cruel punishment for my blatant St. Patrick's Day wardrobe violation. Yes, it was confirmed - my roommate was, is, and always will be an idiot. Pinching. Whatev!
I was right in the middle of one of those long, almost painful, cleansing stretches after an eight hour power nap when I was violently flattened back onto the couch! My first reaction was complete surprise and fear. What had just happened to me? Something was crushing me deep into the couch cushions! I thought that perhaps my decision to not wear green today was about to be punished. I shook the cobwebs from my head quickly and prepared myself to be pinched. However, instead of a pinch, my nostrils were filled with a putrid odor, and I heard a violent, spasmodic, wet, heavy breathing in my ear. What was this ambush? I remember thinking, "PINCH ME, ALREADY! JUST GET OFF OF ME!!" But the pinch never came. Instead, as I wriggled around to face my attacker, I was assaulted with a very wet, pink, tongue directly in my face.
Damn puggle.
I'd have rather been pinched.
As it turned out, the morning went off without a hitch. Everyone left for work and school, and I was paying attention to everyone and everything as they prepared to leave. Paranoia is not always a pathological thing! Self preservation is important, so I was keenly aware that some of the family had worn green and others had not. I made a note that those wearing green did not harass those who did not. I could have sworn that there would have been some type of pinching episode! But surprisingly there were none. Nothing. Nada! I thought to myself that this was probably a good sign. If they weren't teasing and pinching each other, I was more than likely in the clear. St. Patrick's Day was going to be a breeze! In fact, I was so relaxed after everyone had left that once I heard the last key in the door, I hit the couch, clicked on the television to catch the latest rerun of "In the Heat of the Night,"(because Archie Bunker as a police chief in Mississippi still amuses me to tearful laughter) and was soon taking a serious power nap. I had not worn green in recognition of St. Patrick's Day, but more importantly, I had not been pinched. In fact, I was starting to feel stupid for buying into the fear my roommate had tried to instill within me concerning the ritual pinching.
The hours past and I slept as contently as a rabbit in a patch of lush, green, and very green clover. Soon, I heard a key in the door and I knew I had to get up. However, I was in no hurry to vacate my couch just yet. I figured that I'd hang out a bit and hear about everybody's day before I got up to head outside. I heard nothing out of the ordinary from the reports of the day. Pretty mundane, ordinary stuff - and no reports of pinching surprisingly enough. I was encouraged!
I had finally resolved to get up to make myself useful when it happened. I was feeling pretty good about avoiding the unusually cruel punishment for my blatant St. Patrick's Day wardrobe violation. Yes, it was confirmed - my roommate was, is, and always will be an idiot. Pinching. Whatev!
I was right in the middle of one of those long, almost painful, cleansing stretches after an eight hour power nap when I was violently flattened back onto the couch! My first reaction was complete surprise and fear. What had just happened to me? Something was crushing me deep into the couch cushions! I thought that perhaps my decision to not wear green today was about to be punished. I shook the cobwebs from my head quickly and prepared myself to be pinched. However, instead of a pinch, my nostrils were filled with a putrid odor, and I heard a violent, spasmodic, wet, heavy breathing in my ear. What was this ambush? I remember thinking, "PINCH ME, ALREADY! JUST GET OFF OF ME!!" But the pinch never came. Instead, as I wriggled around to face my attacker, I was assaulted with a very wet, pink, tongue directly in my face.
Damn puggle.
I'd have rather been pinched.
Monday, March 16, 2009
8 Months of silence
8 months of silence will be broken tonight out of necessity. Allow me to elaborate: my roommate's girlfriend has been all over him about his blog. HIS blog? Excuse me? No, no, no, no. HIS computer - MY blog!!
"Where is the blog? My friends miss it. My mother misses it. The tall kid misses it." Blah, blah, blah. Seriously. My roommate's girlfriend confronts him at least four times a week wondering about the D.C.'s World blog. Where is it? Why did it go away? We all luuuv it! How come it's gone. (And again . . . ) - Blah, Blah, Blah. Like my roommate has ANYTHING to do with my blog. HA!
Jeesh. Let's reflect on a few things, shall we? The last time I posted anything, summer break was in full swing, the puggle beast was inside the house, the baby was crawling and grabbing with the efficiency and effectiveness of a bulldoziarian-type robotic claw monster, the taller kid was walking from room to room with a brand new guitar playing unintelligible (if not painful) "chord" progressions, and the short curly haired girl was working on and improving her vocabulary and object permanence association skills : hit! chase! no! stomp! hit! chase! In my mind, I could only believe that in her subconsciousness she could only be generating and figuring out words like: kill, smother, torture, mutilate, and maim.
I had to take a break, people. I had to lay low. I couldn't stick around waiting to be injured, harmed, or even killed.
The baby walks now; the tall kid now can play Bon Jovi on guitar, the short curly haired girl speaks in complete sentences, the short kid with glasses and the tall pretty girl continue to seem harmless, but you never really know.
I had to lay low for awhile in order to keep it all together. Craziness, folks. Craziness. I hope you all understand - or at least accept - my hiatus.
More later. I promise.
"Where is the blog? My friends miss it. My mother misses it. The tall kid misses it." Blah, blah, blah. Seriously. My roommate's girlfriend confronts him at least four times a week wondering about the D.C.'s World blog. Where is it? Why did it go away? We all luuuv it! How come it's gone. (And again . . . ) - Blah, Blah, Blah. Like my roommate has ANYTHING to do with my blog. HA!
Jeesh. Let's reflect on a few things, shall we? The last time I posted anything, summer break was in full swing, the puggle beast was inside the house, the baby was crawling and grabbing with the efficiency and effectiveness of a bulldoziarian-type robotic claw monster, the taller kid was walking from room to room with a brand new guitar playing unintelligible (if not painful) "chord" progressions, and the short curly haired girl was working on and improving her vocabulary and object permanence association skills : hit! chase! no! stomp! hit! chase! In my mind, I could only believe that in her subconsciousness she could only be generating and figuring out words like: kill, smother, torture, mutilate, and maim.
I had to take a break, people. I had to lay low. I couldn't stick around waiting to be injured, harmed, or even killed.
The baby walks now; the tall kid now can play Bon Jovi on guitar, the short curly haired girl speaks in complete sentences, the short kid with glasses and the tall pretty girl continue to seem harmless, but you never really know.
I had to lay low for awhile in order to keep it all together. Craziness, folks. Craziness. I hope you all understand - or at least accept - my hiatus.
More later. I promise.
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