Category Archives: Just Being Awesome

And This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

I’m really, really, incredibly clumsy. I have tried and tried to tell my family that it is a syndrome and not something I can control. They insist on mocking me nonetheless. My goal in life is to own a blowtorch for jewelry making purposes but I persist on this path of self destruction and humiliation and I can tell that it is just never going to happen. If it did, I would probably burn my own face off.

break2

 

This past week alone I have amazed myself and those around me with my gracelessness.

First I was in Walmart, where bad things always seem to happen, just minding my own business, when I saw a clearance sticker. I am a sucker for a good deal. The items on sale were syrups used in making those crushed ice drinks. My daughter had gotten an icee machine for Christmas last year and we’d let her use it about none times since then, because it’s loud and messy and generally a pain in the ass. But. The syrup was on sale. And I thought, she’ll be delighted to finally get to make an icee with flavoring since the one I let her make was just ice with Koolaid poured over the top. I know, I really outdid myself there. Anyway, they had grape and cherry and whatever flavor blue is. I reached in for a red one and KABLAM knocked over about half the display. They really weren’t stacked well, if you ask me. SPLAT! Purple sticky disgusting syrup EVERYWHERE. Now, because I used to work at Walmart about a million years ago, I remembered from their indoctrination tapes that if Jose stole something you should report him, unions are a no-no, and if there’s a spill you have to stand guard over it so no one is injured. So I stood there. And stood there. And stood there. Finally one of those tiny old ladies who surely shouldn’t be working any more wandered by and I corralled her to stand guard while I went to get someone who could actually carry a mop. It was a damned mess, all caused by yours truly.

Next on my list of things to destroy was my brand new tablet. I’ve been moaning for years because my kids have ipods and ipads and galaxy whatevers and I have none. My dad finally took pity on me and surprised me with a Surface tablet. I was so excited. Yesterday I ordered a fancy case for it, because I know myself well. I’d only had it about two weeks and was just finally figuring out how to work it when disaster struck. By ‘disaster’ I mean me. I don’t even know how it happened. One minute I was holding it, reading Motherhood May Cause Drowsiness, and the next it was facedown on the concrete floor. I hoped that all was not lost, but sure enough, that fragile bitch was all cracked up.

These are not the only times that my clumsiness syndrome has caused me to injure myself or break something. Oh, no. There was the time that I dropped something while making pancakes and accidentally stuck my forehead to the pancake griddle. And the time I attempted to jump over a hedge while wearing platform wedges and a fancy dress. That didn’t end well, let me tell you. I once fell down my front steps in the rain while carrying my middle child. He was a baby at the time and somehow I protected him but cracked my tailbone. I’ve broken more toes than I care to count, and I broke my wrists so many times as a child that the hospital started taking me back alone to make sure I wasn’t getting beat up at home. No, sorry, I’m just a goddamn accident waiting to happen.

My mother-in-law knows I collect green glass and she used to give me glassware in that shade, but I would break them one at a time until they were all gone. Now she buys me plastic glasses in a pretty green and I still manage to break those too.

I used to smoke and my friends would always walk on the side of me that did not have the cigarette because I was really bad about burning people, and I have a scar on each finger from burning myself with cigarettes. I guess in light of all this I should be glad about my husband’s “No Fire” policy, but I really feel like he is stifling my creativity.

Are you accident prone? Do you want things even though they might be bad for your health? Do you think a blowtorch is an unreasonable request? We have insurance.


 


Housekeeping Resignation, Effective Immediately

This week has been really painful. I mean literally painful.

It all started when I was washing the dishes the other night. I was being very industrious and getting a lot of crap washed, instead of just throwing all the dishes away like I wanted to. So, yes, I was proud.

That may have been what did it. I was too prideful in all my homemaking glory. My head was simply to full of warm fuzzy self-love that I never even saw the knife coming. Seriously, I never saw it until it had already stabbed me.

That’s right folks. A dirty, nasty, MEAN knife jumped out of my sink and into my foot.

I’ve never been so glad to own 18-year-old cutlery.

I know. It's hard to believe I can still walk.

I know. It’s hard to believe I can still walk.

Even though I had just been viciously assaulted, I carried on. I kept on keeping on. I did my dishes anyway. I showed that knife what was up.

The very next day I sat down to pay some bills. This is a dreaded chore and it took great fortitude and courage to even attempt it.

Once again, my pride blinded me to the dangers I could be facing. I didn’t expect to be attacked ON THE FACE by an envelope, but it happened. Do I blame all envelopes? No. Every envelope is different. This one was an asshole, but that doesn’t mean I have to forsake all envelopes for all time.

So in two days time I suffered a poked foot and a paper cut lip, all in the name of housekeeping. I feel like these events were portentous, and far be it for me to ignore the symbolism. I will no longer be participating in such ill-advised activities. I will take into consideration all the hazards inherent in clothes washing, bathroom cleaning, vacuuming, and, heaven forbid, floor mopping. These things are clearly too fraught with danger for me to attempt.

I am no daredevil to be putting my safety in jeopardy like that.


Relaxation Gone Wrong

Recently I took some classes on relaxation. Because apparently I am so uptight that I need someone to literally teach me how to unwind.

Some of them were ridiculous and some seemed to have some merit, but my favorite one featured a guided meditation soundtrack.

A smooth and mellow voice urged me to relax my neck and shoulders, relax my back, relax, relax, relax, all while soothing music played in the background.

The room was quiet as everyone slid into a trance-like state of relaxation and meditation. There were about 15 of us, each with our eyes closed, following the directions which were almost whispered to us.

I could feel myself floating off, almost lifting up off my beanbag, I was so boneless. It was working. I was limp and weightless.

Then the disembodied voice ruined it all by saying, “Now, I want you to relax your genital area. Just let go.”

EXCUSE ME? Insert squealing tires and screeching brakes.

No one else seemed to notice, but I think at least half of them were asleep.

How on earth…why would you want…I’m sorry. Whatever my genitals are doing is none of your business, lady. I had visions of everyone pissing themselves because of this horrible suggestion. It just totally ruined the mood for me.

After class, I tried asking (between giggles) if anyone else had heard that command, but no one had. So now I am wondering if she even said it to begin with. But if she didn’t…what the fuck did she say? What sounds like genital area? How (and for fuck’s sake why) did I hear genitals if she didn’t say it?

This reminds me of a time when I was in a really loud bar and a friend told me that she had cheese in her pants. I was horrified, drunk, and could not understand why the girl was smuggling cheese into a bar, especially since we had already eaten. It was days before I learned that she was bemoaning the cheese ON her pants, not the cheese IN her pants. *shakes head*

Do you think the meditation lady was tryin’ to get all up in my private business? Do you think this class would work better for me if I wasn’t a 12-year-old boy? Has a soothing voice ever offered you terrible advice? What the ever loving fuck sounds like genital area and is located below the stomach but above the legs?

****EDITED TO ADD: THIS IS REALLY A THING! I AM NOT CRAZY. Or, at least, not having auditory hallucinations. http://alternativeculture.com/spirit/chakras.htm Apparently, your butthole is a chakra. Or something like that.


5 Reasons Nature Hates Me

I will fuck you up.

I will fuck you up.

I’ve always had weird experiences with animals, probably because when I was a child I caused the inadvertent death of 5 baby mice.

We found them in a nest in one of my mom’s sweaters. I took great pains to place them gently into a matchbox filled with Easter grass. I spoke to them softly and I made them as comfortable as I could. Then I walked outside and very respectfully buried them alive.

What the ever loving fuck? I know. I don’t get it either. It wasn’t until much later that my mother casually pointed out that I was a killer. The entire time I thought of myself as this noble, kind little girl, giving the poor, motherless mice a dignified funeral. It would’ve been perfect, had the little fuckers been dead first.

I’ve never actually thought about the source of the enmity between me and the natural world. But now that I look back, it’s clear that I brought this upon myself.

Shit. I just remembered that I may have caused the drowning death of two hamsters. Fuck. No wonder my adult life has been plagued with snakes and goats.

Moving on.

I don’t think I accidentally injured, maimed, or outright killed any other pets until I was an adult.

Hold on, I need to go make sure my pets/children have food. And water. And air. Jesus.

You know, I started writing this to hopefully amuse some of you. Little did I know that I was going to delve into my past and learn that statistically I should probably be a serial killer. Let’s all take a moment to be thankful that I’ve always lacked ambition.

Okay, so there was the Year of the Goat. I’m not sure if this kind of goat-mayhem goes on in everyone’s life and they just don’t talk about it…or maybe it’s just me. Then there was the snake infestation which, by the way, is still ongoing. In light of my earlier revelations concerning my predilection for accidental murder, I think it’s safe to say that these snakes have been sent to destroy me.

Fuck.

I killed a bird too.

But really, it was the bird’s fault. I didn’t have my windows down on purpose so the little feathered fuck could fly in and smack against the back glass. I also had no idea what was happening as I drove down the road and suddenly my entire car was full of feathers. I don’t think this one is on me. The fact that I stopped at Sonic and gently removed the bird from my car with a pair of drumsticks ought to clear my name, I think. Maybe that bird woke up later and ordered some fries. Or maybe it was already dead and the people at Sonic still talk about the girl driving around with musical instruments and dead animals. Who knows.

Do you know anyone this lacking in common sense? Am I the only one Mother Nature has put a hit out on?

 


I Forgot Things

I was invited to a blog hop and I got nominated for another Liebster award!  Squee!

But I’m terrible at these things and I forgot to hit send on the email about the hop – I know, right? And the questions for both the hop and the award seem really hard right now. So I’m gonna make up my own questions and nominate EVERYONE I KNOW.  Yes. If you are reading this, I have just nominated you for the Liebster award, you little awesome thing you.  Here are the questions:

1. I have a headache. I’m skipping this question.

2. Who do you miss right now? My dad. I just texted with him and I wish he was here. My grandpa, who passed away last year. My brother, who just moved farther away from me.

3. Who do you wish was in school right now?  Haha. Couple more weeks then blessed SILENCE for HOURS EVERY SINGLE DAY!

4. What’s your favorite video game?  All the God of War games and Balder’s Gate.  I might’ve spelled that wrong, but I have a headache.

5. What’s your most used excuse? I have a headache. Except don’t use that for sex because sex actually helps relieve headaches and I probably shouldn’t get into the how and why but I will tell you it has to do with blood flow. To your lady parts.

So, I’m calling that good! Thanks to Cassandra at The Next Delusion for inviting me to the hop, Jeff and Jill of Jeff and Jill Went Up the Hill for adding me to the hop after my email failure, and Tempest Rose of Nonsense and Shenanigans for the nomination.