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.
Monday, June 30, 2008
How Embarrassing!
Just this past Thursday, my roommate was exclaiming to his girlfriend how messy their closet was in the master bedroom. He was going on and on about how there was a ton of junk in the closet that they had not worn or used in years. He suggested that the closet should be cleaned out and that the useless items could be donated to the local Community Closet. The girlfriend concurred that something needed to be done, and she would be happy to help in the clean up project. In fact, she even believed that the other closets in the house could be cleaned out as well.
I commonly eavesdrop on my roommate's conversations with his girlfriend. I usually find their exchanges to be comical. He usually will say stuff that he doesn't really mean, and she will usually pretend like she believes him when she really doesn't. For instance: Roommate- I'm going to start going to bed earlier at night to get more sleep. Girlfriend- Good idea, honey. You'll feel better in the mornings after a good nights sleep. Remember not to set your alarm tonight, because you never hear it in the morning, and it is really annoying. Or, Roommate- I think I'm going to start a little diet to lose some weight. Girlfriend- I think you'll feel better about yourself if you do. It's late though, and I'm going to sleep. Don't eat all the ice cream tonight - save some for the short kid with glasses. He hasn't had any out of that carton yet.
However, my roommate seemed to have a certain conviction in his voice when he spoke of the out of control closet. I actually believed that he meant what he said this time. His girlfriend believed him, too, because she got excited about his new found incentive to clean up the house.
They eventually left the bedroom to begin the day and to wake up all the kids. My roommate's passionate declaration regarding the closet left me strangely inspired, and I was overwhelmed with an indescribable desire to assist in this newly stated project. So, I entered the closet myself to see where I could pitch in to help.
Some people would call me vertically challenged, and I readily accept that label, because truthfully, I am not the tallest male on the block! Therefore, I decided to start low in the closet. I crawled into the deepest corner of the closet to begin my self-appointed cleaning responsibilities. There in the back right hand corner of the closet, I found a really soft blanket that I had not seen in years! The blanket was truly inviting and I found myself drawn to it. Kicking some shoes, flip-flops, and a couple of ball caps out of the way, I stretched out on the blanket. It felt soooooo comfortable! I closed my eyes for what seemed like only a moment to relish the sensation of the hidden blanket, and before I knew it, I was asleep.
That was the soundest nap I had taken in months! I eventually emerged from the closet to an empty house. Everyone was gone, but I didn't find that to be unusual at all. My roommate was most certainly at work, and the girlfriend had more than likely taken the kids to the pool. I headed into the kitchen for a little food and drink, and then hopped onto the couch for some television. I must have fallen asleep again, because when I woke up, it was dark outside. I got off the couch and realized that the family was still gone. No problem, though. They probably were at the grandparent's house. I went downstairs and checked on the stupid dogs. They were fine - dumb as ever. I eventually returned to the closet to begin cleaning things out, but the mesmerizing blanket beckoned me yet again. I curled up on that thing again, and BOOM! I was asleep again.
Apparently, three days later, the back door swung open and there stood my roommate holding a huge duffel bag. He greeted me with a hearty "hello" and then asked me if I had missed everyone. I was quite confused, however things became clear to me soon. The entire family had left for Atlanta Thursday to visit some friends while I was asleep.
Dang. I knew that they had been gone for an unusually long time . . . .
I commonly eavesdrop on my roommate's conversations with his girlfriend. I usually find their exchanges to be comical. He usually will say stuff that he doesn't really mean, and she will usually pretend like she believes him when she really doesn't. For instance: Roommate- I'm going to start going to bed earlier at night to get more sleep. Girlfriend- Good idea, honey. You'll feel better in the mornings after a good nights sleep. Remember not to set your alarm tonight, because you never hear it in the morning, and it is really annoying. Or, Roommate- I think I'm going to start a little diet to lose some weight. Girlfriend- I think you'll feel better about yourself if you do. It's late though, and I'm going to sleep. Don't eat all the ice cream tonight - save some for the short kid with glasses. He hasn't had any out of that carton yet.
However, my roommate seemed to have a certain conviction in his voice when he spoke of the out of control closet. I actually believed that he meant what he said this time. His girlfriend believed him, too, because she got excited about his new found incentive to clean up the house.
They eventually left the bedroom to begin the day and to wake up all the kids. My roommate's passionate declaration regarding the closet left me strangely inspired, and I was overwhelmed with an indescribable desire to assist in this newly stated project. So, I entered the closet myself to see where I could pitch in to help.
Some people would call me vertically challenged, and I readily accept that label, because truthfully, I am not the tallest male on the block! Therefore, I decided to start low in the closet. I crawled into the deepest corner of the closet to begin my self-appointed cleaning responsibilities. There in the back right hand corner of the closet, I found a really soft blanket that I had not seen in years! The blanket was truly inviting and I found myself drawn to it. Kicking some shoes, flip-flops, and a couple of ball caps out of the way, I stretched out on the blanket. It felt soooooo comfortable! I closed my eyes for what seemed like only a moment to relish the sensation of the hidden blanket, and before I knew it, I was asleep.
That was the soundest nap I had taken in months! I eventually emerged from the closet to an empty house. Everyone was gone, but I didn't find that to be unusual at all. My roommate was most certainly at work, and the girlfriend had more than likely taken the kids to the pool. I headed into the kitchen for a little food and drink, and then hopped onto the couch for some television. I must have fallen asleep again, because when I woke up, it was dark outside. I got off the couch and realized that the family was still gone. No problem, though. They probably were at the grandparent's house. I went downstairs and checked on the stupid dogs. They were fine - dumb as ever. I eventually returned to the closet to begin cleaning things out, but the mesmerizing blanket beckoned me yet again. I curled up on that thing again, and BOOM! I was asleep again.
Apparently, three days later, the back door swung open and there stood my roommate holding a huge duffel bag. He greeted me with a hearty "hello" and then asked me if I had missed everyone. I was quite confused, however things became clear to me soon. The entire family had left for Atlanta Thursday to visit some friends while I was asleep.
Dang. I knew that they had been gone for an unusually long time . . . .
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Don't Get Around Much Anymore
Almost a month has passed since my last entry from my world. My apologies. However, I've been busy. School has let out for the summer for starters. That means that the kids have been constantly underfoot. Plus, I mentioned earlier the acquisition of a new family puppy? The puggle has run amuck making my life extremely complicated. Writing on the computer has not been high up on my list of priorities lately.
I try to stay out of the way these days. The house is like a circus with everyone home for the summer. The tall kid never sleeps in his bed - he just moves from couch to couch to sleep. The short kid with glasses and the taller pretty girl are thick as thieves and I can't ever keep straight where they will sleep anymore. One night they are in her room, one night they are in his room, one night they are on couches . . . if the tall kid hasn't fallen asleep there yet. The short curly haired girl still sleeps in her bed, at least.
I have my routines and when summertime arrives, my routines are severely compromised. The televisions are now used for talk shows, cartoons, Barney, and video games. Heaven forbid I should ever try to watch Sportscenter or Animal Planet! My roommate's girlfriend takes naps during the time I like to take naps and in exactly the same place I like to sleep in the afternoons. About the only two folks in the house who aren't getting on my nerves and getting in my way are my roommate and the baby.
Oh, I'm sure I'll get over myself soon enough. Of course, as soon as I get used to the summer routine, school will start again. Sometimes I wonder why I keep all these people around . . . !
I try to stay out of the way these days. The house is like a circus with everyone home for the summer. The tall kid never sleeps in his bed - he just moves from couch to couch to sleep. The short kid with glasses and the taller pretty girl are thick as thieves and I can't ever keep straight where they will sleep anymore. One night they are in her room, one night they are in his room, one night they are on couches . . . if the tall kid hasn't fallen asleep there yet. The short curly haired girl still sleeps in her bed, at least.
I have my routines and when summertime arrives, my routines are severely compromised. The televisions are now used for talk shows, cartoons, Barney, and video games. Heaven forbid I should ever try to watch Sportscenter or Animal Planet! My roommate's girlfriend takes naps during the time I like to take naps and in exactly the same place I like to sleep in the afternoons. About the only two folks in the house who aren't getting on my nerves and getting in my way are my roommate and the baby.
Oh, I'm sure I'll get over myself soon enough. Of course, as soon as I get used to the summer routine, school will start again. Sometimes I wonder why I keep all these people around . . . !
Thursday, May 8, 2008
The tall kid is gone tonight, and it is a school night. He and some of his classmates are going on a field trip tomorrow morning. I think they are going to the space museum in Huntsville, AL. Boring. I'd rather go to the aquarium in Chattanooga. That would be much more interesting and entertaining! All those fish? Swimming around right in front of your face in those big celling to floor tanks? I mean, c'mon! How awesome would that be? I'd be mesmerized for hours, I just know it! At any rate, the tall kid is gone - spending the night with some other kid so they can catch the bus around 5:30 in the morning. Apparently, when the class gets back home late tomorrow night, the tall kid is going to bring home a couple of his friends to spend the night over here. Oh joy.
I just came back from checking on the taller pretty girl. I heard her coughing in her sleep, and I figured I'd go see if she was okay. Her television was on and tuned in to Disney (gag), and she was asleep and snoring. I was looking for the remote control to turn off the TV when I noticed that this crazy kid had fallen asleep with bed's comforter wrapped around her head. How in the world was she breathing? I gently peeled the covering off her head. Nuts, I'm telling you! Who sleeps like that? I mean, really! Where did she learn such odd habits? And then I went to check in on my roommate's girlfriend and the little baby. I immediately had my answer concerning the taller pretty girl.
I saw the baby sleeping soundly, and I swear she was smiling! Probably dreaming about the short curly haired girl not being around . . . And then I noticed the girlfriend. At once I thought I had intruded on her privacy, because she was not lying down. Rather, she was propped up on her elbows with her face staring at the head board of the bed. I was nervous because I didn't want her to think that I was some kind of a creep sneaking into her room. After all, I was just checking in on folks to make sure they were sleeping well before I turned in for the night. But then I realized that I heard snoring. It sounded familiar to me, and as I stood there inside the room, I realized that the snoring sounded a lot like the girlfriend. So, I quietly crept closer to the bed to investigate. As I grew closer, I figured out that it was indeed the girlfriend snoring! She was sound asleep propped up on her elbows. All she needed to complete the similarity with her daughter was to have a blanket draped over her head.
And I thought I was going to be accused of being creepy . . . !
I just came back from checking on the taller pretty girl. I heard her coughing in her sleep, and I figured I'd go see if she was okay. Her television was on and tuned in to Disney (gag), and she was asleep and snoring. I was looking for the remote control to turn off the TV when I noticed that this crazy kid had fallen asleep with bed's comforter wrapped around her head. How in the world was she breathing? I gently peeled the covering off her head. Nuts, I'm telling you! Who sleeps like that? I mean, really! Where did she learn such odd habits? And then I went to check in on my roommate's girlfriend and the little baby. I immediately had my answer concerning the taller pretty girl.
I saw the baby sleeping soundly, and I swear she was smiling! Probably dreaming about the short curly haired girl not being around . . . And then I noticed the girlfriend. At once I thought I had intruded on her privacy, because she was not lying down. Rather, she was propped up on her elbows with her face staring at the head board of the bed. I was nervous because I didn't want her to think that I was some kind of a creep sneaking into her room. After all, I was just checking in on folks to make sure they were sleeping well before I turned in for the night. But then I realized that I heard snoring. It sounded familiar to me, and as I stood there inside the room, I realized that the snoring sounded a lot like the girlfriend. So, I quietly crept closer to the bed to investigate. As I grew closer, I figured out that it was indeed the girlfriend snoring! She was sound asleep propped up on her elbows. All she needed to complete the similarity with her daughter was to have a blanket draped over her head.
And I thought I was going to be accused of being creepy . . . !
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Today was Wednesday. That means that I was alone for the majority of the day. Wednesday is a big day for the family - work, school, and then church. I don't go to church. I get enough God by myself on my daily nature walks. But I digress . . .
On days like today, my mind wanders to random things. My solitude sometimes encourages me to ponder the obscure things that life tosses my way. For instance:
1. Why does Gene Simmons have a reality show?
2. Hurricanes suck.
3. Kathie Lee Gifford is back on television. Really? Isn't that like Barney hosting Meet the Press on Sunday mornings?
4. I'll bet during all her hours on her T.V. show Julia Child never once said, "BAM!"
5 Why does the medical examiner on CSI Miami always talk to dead people as if they were still alive?
6. Speaking of CSI, how much money is paid to the surviving members of The Who these days?
7. Instead of claiming that they can find God in serene places, why don't people just admit that worship and church isn't too high on their personal list of priorities these days? Wimps!
8. Does the combination of pop rocks candy and cola really make your stomach explode?
9. What would the graphics for Grand Theft Auto look like if the game was made available for the Atari 2600?
10. Is there really a better video game than Pitfall?
11. How long does it take to peel a grape?
12. People will watch anything on T.V. Proof? Dancing With the Stars.
13. The commercials where the women's room sign hops off the door to talk to incontinent people about medicating themselves is really creepy. I'd rather wet my pants.
14. What is Barbara Walter's deal?
15. Just for kicks, I think it would be funny if Chipper Jones started to insist that his baseball cards used his Christian name - Larry.
Time for bed. I hope the "thwack, thwack" sound from the rubber hose beating that mop headed kid from American Idol doesn't keep me awake! (Heh-heh)!
On days like today, my mind wanders to random things. My solitude sometimes encourages me to ponder the obscure things that life tosses my way. For instance:
1. Why does Gene Simmons have a reality show?
2. Hurricanes suck.
3. Kathie Lee Gifford is back on television. Really? Isn't that like Barney hosting Meet the Press on Sunday mornings?
4. I'll bet during all her hours on her T.V. show Julia Child never once said, "BAM!"
5 Why does the medical examiner on CSI Miami always talk to dead people as if they were still alive?
6. Speaking of CSI, how much money is paid to the surviving members of The Who these days?
7. Instead of claiming that they can find God in serene places, why don't people just admit that worship and church isn't too high on their personal list of priorities these days? Wimps!
8. Does the combination of pop rocks candy and cola really make your stomach explode?
9. What would the graphics for Grand Theft Auto look like if the game was made available for the Atari 2600?
10. Is there really a better video game than Pitfall?
11. How long does it take to peel a grape?
12. People will watch anything on T.V. Proof? Dancing With the Stars.
13. The commercials where the women's room sign hops off the door to talk to incontinent people about medicating themselves is really creepy. I'd rather wet my pants.
14. What is Barbara Walter's deal?
15. Just for kicks, I think it would be funny if Chipper Jones started to insist that his baseball cards used his Christian name - Larry.
Time for bed. I hope the "thwack, thwack" sound from the rubber hose beating that mop headed kid from American Idol doesn't keep me awake! (Heh-heh)!
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
My roommate's girlfriend keeps watching American Idol, and I don't understand why. Granted, the first couple of weeks of the show is entertaining with all the auditions and craziness - but why keep watching it all the way into May? Over the years, it seems to me that the truly talented kids don't win.
Tonight, as I tried to nap on the couch, some schmuck decided that it would be a good idea to sing "Hungry Like the Wolf." The genre tonight was the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Why, for the love of everything sacred, would you pick freakin' Duran Duran out of all the artists that are currently in the Hall. (Duran Duran? In the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? Really)? I mean seriously! There are only four contestants left in the competition and this moron sings a Duran Duran song. The only other choice that would have been more ridiculous would have been a selection from the Human League, although I'm fairly sure those ding-a-lings aren't even on most Karaoke machines, let alone the Hall of Fame!
Of course, the extremely annoying mop head looking kid sounded like he was singing out of his butt tonight. He actually forgot words to a Bob Dylan song. Honestly - how do you forget Bob Dylan lyrics? Just make up some crap and sing it! I'm pretty sure that's what old Bob does, and he's singing his own tunes! Mop head's performance tonight was mildly reassuring though, because come tomorrow night, he is probably on his way back home to Texas, where hopefully some big, close minded, hateful, cowboy will beat him senseless with a rubber hose merely because he embarrassed the Lone Star state. I'd grab my roommate's cell phone to vote for that! (Of course, there is probably a gaggle of prepubescent girls out there who think mop head is too dreamy to vote off the show, and they will jam cell phone towers all over the continental United States to keep him on the show just to see him next week get on stage and butcher yet another song while smiling his "I just got free ice cream" smile during the entire performance).
Hmmmm! Let's see . . . Sean Cassidy or Paul McCartney?
Gimme a break!
At least my roommate's girlfriend doesn't watch Dancing With the Stars!
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Deception
Some folks might call me a bad patient. I don't like doctors very much. I don't like being around people when I'm sick. And I especially don't like taking medicine - regardless of the fact that it can make me feel better and make me well again. I get restless. I'm grumpy. I have no patience for anything or with anybody.
Recently, as I have mentioned, I've been fighting a recurring UTI. The doctor told me I had to take shots to get well. Obviously, I can't give the shots to myself. In fact, I can't even imagine giving myself a shot. I have a deep admiration for those who have to administer shots to themselves on a daily basis; I'm just not one of those people!! I have to rely on my roommate or his girlfriend to give me my shots. Granted, I don't make it easy on them. I squirm and wiggle. I spit, hiss, and complain like there is no tomorrow, but at least when it is time for me to get medicated, I eventually let it happen.
Here's the thing, though. A few days ago, the girlfriend decides that she no longer wants to put up with the shenanigans that accompany me being medicated. She apparently decided that the best way to administer my shots was through deception. She sneaks up on me now, shot in hand, and virtually attacks me with medicine. My roommate is not even involved anymore with the procedure. Obviously, she can't wait around for him to be available for the twice daily ambushes. A clever fox, the girlfriend is.
For example, just yesterday I had been outside for a walk. The sun was bright and the day was absolutely gorgeous. I finished my walk and came home. In a moment that I obviously misinterpreted as the girlfriend's hospitality, she opened the back door for me to welcome me home. It was a nice gesture, to be sure, and I didn't think anything of it at the time. She even asked me if I would like something to drink, and I followed her into the kitchen, because after my walk, I was thirsty. As I stood in the kitchen enjoying my cool drink, two hands seized me from behind!
I would have lunged to get away, but as startled as I was, the water that I had been sipping was violently thrust into my lungs and I began to choke. I writhed around and twisted my head around to see what was happening to me just as the girlfriend gave me a shot. I was mortified to say the least! However, the girlfriend seemed to be all too proud of herself. So proud, in fact that she now sneaks up on me daily to give me my shots. My roommate is completely out of the shot giving equation now.
Ah! The deceptive and equally as sneaky girlfriend haunts my dreams! But I will have my revenge, and it will be sweet!
Recently, as I have mentioned, I've been fighting a recurring UTI. The doctor told me I had to take shots to get well. Obviously, I can't give the shots to myself. In fact, I can't even imagine giving myself a shot. I have a deep admiration for those who have to administer shots to themselves on a daily basis; I'm just not one of those people!! I have to rely on my roommate or his girlfriend to give me my shots. Granted, I don't make it easy on them. I squirm and wiggle. I spit, hiss, and complain like there is no tomorrow, but at least when it is time for me to get medicated, I eventually let it happen.
Here's the thing, though. A few days ago, the girlfriend decides that she no longer wants to put up with the shenanigans that accompany me being medicated. She apparently decided that the best way to administer my shots was through deception. She sneaks up on me now, shot in hand, and virtually attacks me with medicine. My roommate is not even involved anymore with the procedure. Obviously, she can't wait around for him to be available for the twice daily ambushes. A clever fox, the girlfriend is.
For example, just yesterday I had been outside for a walk. The sun was bright and the day was absolutely gorgeous. I finished my walk and came home. In a moment that I obviously misinterpreted as the girlfriend's hospitality, she opened the back door for me to welcome me home. It was a nice gesture, to be sure, and I didn't think anything of it at the time. She even asked me if I would like something to drink, and I followed her into the kitchen, because after my walk, I was thirsty. As I stood in the kitchen enjoying my cool drink, two hands seized me from behind!
I would have lunged to get away, but as startled as I was, the water that I had been sipping was violently thrust into my lungs and I began to choke. I writhed around and twisted my head around to see what was happening to me just as the girlfriend gave me a shot. I was mortified to say the least! However, the girlfriend seemed to be all too proud of herself. So proud, in fact that she now sneaks up on me daily to give me my shots. My roommate is completely out of the shot giving equation now.
Ah! The deceptive and equally as sneaky girlfriend haunts my dreams! But I will have my revenge, and it will be sweet!
Friday, May 2, 2008
Call me a doctor!
I just can't seem to shake this urinary tract infection. It really has got me down. I feel terrible all of the time. I spent most of the morning, in fact, napping in the kitchen with that confounded puggle pestering me non-stop. It would yip in my ear and then nip at my face and hands. I felt too bad to move away or even to try to stop him. Believe it or not, the short curly haired girl finally came to my rescue and grabbed the little puggle. I would have thanked her, but she was too busy trying to stuff him into her purse.
As the morning wore on, I eventually made my way into the den to nap on the couch. It was here that I witnessed the most bizarre thing! Rather than tell you outright what I saw, I think I will riddle you instead.
What is this? "Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, flutter, BANG!! Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, flutter, BANG!! Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, flutter, BANG!!"
Give up?
It was the retarded blue jay on my balcony today who spent the better part of an hour hopping up and down the balcony rail and then flying full speed into the window of my den.
Stupid bird.
As the morning wore on, I eventually made my way into the den to nap on the couch. It was here that I witnessed the most bizarre thing! Rather than tell you outright what I saw, I think I will riddle you instead.
What is this? "Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, flutter, BANG!! Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, flutter, BANG!! Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, flutter, BANG!!"
Give up?
It was the retarded blue jay on my balcony today who spent the better part of an hour hopping up and down the balcony rail and then flying full speed into the window of my den.
Stupid bird.
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