I'd Look Hot In A Straight Jacket
The holidays do enough weird shit to my head without the added bonus of the rest of my life trying to fuck with me too. I feel impending insanity. This proclamation is mostly derived from the events of this past weekend...
Saturday: It's a nice day for a plane ride.
So at the somewhat early time of 9:15am my phone rings. I can tell by the ringtone it's Mr. Robinson. Yes, I am so smitten that he has his own ringtone so shoot me. Anyway, I answered & after a few minutes he asks if I'm feeling adventurous. Clearly this is a loaded question. No one calls you from NY at the ass crack of dawn to ask a question like that unless they have an adventure in mind. Sure enough he asked me to fly to NY. I don't mean sometime either. I mean in the 'Can you be ready in 4 hours?' kind of way. I don't know about the rest of you, but it isn't all that often I get calls to go have dinner & sex in Manhattan with an attractive, older, intelligent, rich guy I've never met (on his tab no less). My gut instinct was to go. I've done all the background checking on him I can & well, I really like him. I can't really blame him for not wanting to come to WI. I like it and everything, but it isn't NY by any stretch of the imagination. Case & point: I told him my house was worth two & quarter. He replies 'Million?'. Nope, here in WI when one says two & a quarter they mean $225,000.
Anyway, this strange request catches me off guard. I said give me an hour & I will let you know. Obviously I go to do what any girl would - Consult. First, I go to my mom. She was all for it. Then I attempted to reach the reasonable leg of the tripod, Black Eyed Gurl. However she wasn't answering the phone. So, I call the other leg, Ivory Valentine. Since her husband recently lost his mind & bought a brand new truck she was all for it. I got a yea vote based on the logic that life is short & it was only 24 hours. It just so happened that Black Eyed Gurl was on the other line. She was not enthusiastic about this at all. As a matter of fact I've never heard the word 'No' that much in one conversation. She sort of reminded those Capital One commercials with David Spade.
I did the right thing & consulted all the important women in my life. Then I decided to go. I called MR back & told him to book the ticket.
Well, after all this Saturday morning chaos he missed being able to book the ticket by approximately 20 minutes. Stupid airline security.
So, instead of a fabulous evening in NY I ended up playing Qwerty with my mom.
Would it have been so crazy to run off to NY or am I just delusional?
Sunday: The Packers won. Need I say more?
(However, to anyone who caught the game...Have you ever seen more hysterical refereeing? I mean there was a review that didn't involve being under the hood AND the head ref went out to flip the coin for overtime...except he didn't have a coin. Too funny.)
Monday: Today would be when I started eyeing up the straight jacket.
First I start off running behind for my latest meeting with a slave trader. I was going to get my orthotics (shoe inserts for lay people) out of my running shoes so I could stick them in the boots I was wearing to the interview. I go to pull out the left one & of all 1600 square feet of floor space in my house one of the cats chose the exact location of my running shoes to hurl cat food chunks into. When you are pretty much starting the day by shoving your hand in cat vomit it really is safe to say it isn't going to be a good day.
I make it over to the recruiter/slave trader's office about a minute late. If there is one thing I hate about recruiters is that even with a resume and what not they insist you fill out these epic fucking online applications with your life history just so they don't have to do it. After I did that, a large man with a walking stick comes into the room. Not a cane, I'm talking a large stick. He then announces he has to go to the bathroom & disappears again. When he returned & we began to chat I find out that he has the stick because of his recent full knee replacement. I also learn about all the meds he is on. As if I couldn't tell he was a little out of it? We had a great conversation. He loved me. He told me I had a great resume, I was articulate & smart, the whole nine yards. As usual there is a catch to the story. I was beyond perfect for the position. I could have done it in my sleep. He was dying to submit me except for one little thing...
My hair color was not appropriate!
I honestly thought I was hearing things. My hair is dyed, yes. It is NOT some wild & crazy color not known to man or beast. He even consulted with another recruiter who worked the account more regularly and she agreed that they would not like my hair color for the interview. However, after I got the job I could go back to the color I have now and it would be fine.
I was stunned. It was by far the most asinine thing I have been told to date. Who thought I'd top the midget story so soon? I mean, I don't even get a chance to talk to someone because of my hair color? What the fuck is that???
I basically left there more determined than ever to go back to school. I don't care if it's law school or getting my Master's...whatever. I changing my career path & I'm getting the fuck out of this backwards ass state of mine.
It just so happens my interview was minutes away from the local mall. In some bizarre attempt to inflict more pain on myself I decided to go attempt some shopping. While looking for a parking space, which are hard enough to find this time of year, I see a car pulling out of a spot one aisle over. I whip around to the spot only to be confronted by the following sign:
Was I not just ranting about this?!? What part of your children aren't special nor do they raise your status in society are people not getting?!?!? I am a fucking human being who needs a parking spot too you heartless mall planning bastards! I just happen to be a mall patron who is capable of using BIRTH CONTROL!
So now totally on edge I head into the mall.
Earlier today my best friend was blogging about her mouse dying which was suppose to be replaced by the oh so awesome mouse I picked out for her for xmas. Unfortunately, the piece of shit couldn't hold out for like two more weeks. This basically negates the nicest present I had planned for her.
I was completely uninspired by anything else in the mall & decided to fuck up my diet and get one of those soft pretzels from the food court. I get my pretzel & cheese and sit down on a bench to indulge myself. A woman with bags up the ass politely asks if anyone is sitting next to me & my pretzel. I say no & scoot down. Of course she can't just leave me and my cheese sludge in peace. She had to be one of those 'I talk to strangers' people. Honestly, I don't even look approachable. So how I got stuck with this woman I don't know. We chat casually about xmas & what not. Then I made the mistake of asking if she had a large family. She answers: "I would if mom had been able to carry all her babies to term".
Is this what you tell strangers in the mall you freak? Have you not heard of 'Too much information'. It isn't like I had a readily available answer to that statement.
At this point I realized I was going to have a panic attack in the mall if I didn't get the fuck out of there. I seriously think that during the month of December all sedatives should be made available to anyone who wants them. Valium, xanex, darvaset...whatever you want. Screw fruit cakes. I say tis the season for over the counter narcotics.
So anyone who wants to get me a straight jacket & a trip to a resort with padded rooms for xmas I am all for it. That way at least I can lose my mind in a safe environment.
Saturday: It's a nice day for a plane ride.
So at the somewhat early time of 9:15am my phone rings. I can tell by the ringtone it's Mr. Robinson. Yes, I am so smitten that he has his own ringtone so shoot me. Anyway, I answered & after a few minutes he asks if I'm feeling adventurous. Clearly this is a loaded question. No one calls you from NY at the ass crack of dawn to ask a question like that unless they have an adventure in mind. Sure enough he asked me to fly to NY. I don't mean sometime either. I mean in the 'Can you be ready in 4 hours?' kind of way. I don't know about the rest of you, but it isn't all that often I get calls to go have dinner & sex in Manhattan with an attractive, older, intelligent, rich guy I've never met (on his tab no less). My gut instinct was to go. I've done all the background checking on him I can & well, I really like him. I can't really blame him for not wanting to come to WI. I like it and everything, but it isn't NY by any stretch of the imagination. Case & point: I told him my house was worth two & quarter. He replies 'Million?'. Nope, here in WI when one says two & a quarter they mean $225,000.
Anyway, this strange request catches me off guard. I said give me an hour & I will let you know. Obviously I go to do what any girl would - Consult. First, I go to my mom. She was all for it. Then I attempted to reach the reasonable leg of the tripod, Black Eyed Gurl. However she wasn't answering the phone. So, I call the other leg, Ivory Valentine. Since her husband recently lost his mind & bought a brand new truck she was all for it. I got a yea vote based on the logic that life is short & it was only 24 hours. It just so happened that Black Eyed Gurl was on the other line. She was not enthusiastic about this at all. As a matter of fact I've never heard the word 'No' that much in one conversation. She sort of reminded those Capital One commercials with David Spade.
I did the right thing & consulted all the important women in my life. Then I decided to go. I called MR back & told him to book the ticket.
Well, after all this Saturday morning chaos he missed being able to book the ticket by approximately 20 minutes. Stupid airline security.
So, instead of a fabulous evening in NY I ended up playing Qwerty with my mom.
Would it have been so crazy to run off to NY or am I just delusional?
Sunday: The Packers won. Need I say more?
(However, to anyone who caught the game...Have you ever seen more hysterical refereeing? I mean there was a review that didn't involve being under the hood AND the head ref went out to flip the coin for overtime...except he didn't have a coin. Too funny.)
Monday: Today would be when I started eyeing up the straight jacket.
First I start off running behind for my latest meeting with a slave trader. I was going to get my orthotics (shoe inserts for lay people) out of my running shoes so I could stick them in the boots I was wearing to the interview. I go to pull out the left one & of all 1600 square feet of floor space in my house one of the cats chose the exact location of my running shoes to hurl cat food chunks into. When you are pretty much starting the day by shoving your hand in cat vomit it really is safe to say it isn't going to be a good day.
I make it over to the recruiter/slave trader's office about a minute late. If there is one thing I hate about recruiters is that even with a resume and what not they insist you fill out these epic fucking online applications with your life history just so they don't have to do it. After I did that, a large man with a walking stick comes into the room. Not a cane, I'm talking a large stick. He then announces he has to go to the bathroom & disappears again. When he returned & we began to chat I find out that he has the stick because of his recent full knee replacement. I also learn about all the meds he is on. As if I couldn't tell he was a little out of it? We had a great conversation. He loved me. He told me I had a great resume, I was articulate & smart, the whole nine yards. As usual there is a catch to the story. I was beyond perfect for the position. I could have done it in my sleep. He was dying to submit me except for one little thing...
My hair color was not appropriate!
I honestly thought I was hearing things. My hair is dyed, yes. It is NOT some wild & crazy color not known to man or beast. He even consulted with another recruiter who worked the account more regularly and she agreed that they would not like my hair color for the interview. However, after I got the job I could go back to the color I have now and it would be fine.
I was stunned. It was by far the most asinine thing I have been told to date. Who thought I'd top the midget story so soon? I mean, I don't even get a chance to talk to someone because of my hair color? What the fuck is that???
I basically left there more determined than ever to go back to school. I don't care if it's law school or getting my Master's...whatever. I changing my career path & I'm getting the fuck out of this backwards ass state of mine.
It just so happens my interview was minutes away from the local mall. In some bizarre attempt to inflict more pain on myself I decided to go attempt some shopping. While looking for a parking space, which are hard enough to find this time of year, I see a car pulling out of a spot one aisle over. I whip around to the spot only to be confronted by the following sign:
Was I not just ranting about this?!? What part of your children aren't special nor do they raise your status in society are people not getting?!?!? I am a fucking human being who needs a parking spot too you heartless mall planning bastards! I just happen to be a mall patron who is capable of using BIRTH CONTROL!So now totally on edge I head into the mall.
Earlier today my best friend was blogging about her mouse dying which was suppose to be replaced by the oh so awesome mouse I picked out for her for xmas. Unfortunately, the piece of shit couldn't hold out for like two more weeks. This basically negates the nicest present I had planned for her.
I was completely uninspired by anything else in the mall & decided to fuck up my diet and get one of those soft pretzels from the food court. I get my pretzel & cheese and sit down on a bench to indulge myself. A woman with bags up the ass politely asks if anyone is sitting next to me & my pretzel. I say no & scoot down. Of course she can't just leave me and my cheese sludge in peace. She had to be one of those 'I talk to strangers' people. Honestly, I don't even look approachable. So how I got stuck with this woman I don't know. We chat casually about xmas & what not. Then I made the mistake of asking if she had a large family. She answers: "I would if mom had been able to carry all her babies to term".
Is this what you tell strangers in the mall you freak? Have you not heard of 'Too much information'. It isn't like I had a readily available answer to that statement.
At this point I realized I was going to have a panic attack in the mall if I didn't get the fuck out of there. I seriously think that during the month of December all sedatives should be made available to anyone who wants them. Valium, xanex, darvaset...whatever you want. Screw fruit cakes. I say tis the season for over the counter narcotics.
So anyone who wants to get me a straight jacket & a trip to a resort with padded rooms for xmas I am all for it. That way at least I can lose my mind in a safe environment.
posted by Knina at 3:26 PM
6 Comments:
I'm good with a sewing machine, we could make designer straight jackets and you could be the model...thus negating any and all need to continue on with the slave trade! Also, with the rate at which celebs and other assorted, rich folk go crazy these days, we could make a fortune. And lets not forget the plan to pad the walls of one of the rooms upstairs in my house for this very purpose...
Straight Jackets and narcotics, that's what holliday solutions are made of. Good call.
If you get your hands on any, and the Xmas spirit strikes, send me some in the desert. It would help tons, in a country where everything is illegal.
You're funny!
:)
Get our the painkillers and straightjackets, it's time for the holidays! Sorry to be apart of your pain. But next time, honestly park in the expectant mother parking, I do, it's not like anyone will ever ask you to prove you are pregnant (wait had visions of shop-ko employee escorting me to the bathroom with an EPT). Padded room here we come (will the padded room have DDR??)
The padded room will not have Dance Dance Revolution, but it will have non-poke-able quadrapalegic log and a audio copy of Bill Hicks very soothing, 'Rant in E-Minor'. Also, there may be marshmellows for sustaining life until the holidays have passed.
Anelize & RG: I'm so glad I'm not the only one thinking meds are the way to go this time of year.
SS: You have to say that Im your neice. However, Im glad to see you arent reading my blog on work time. Hehe.
IV & Beg: I'd love to be a straight jacket model. I could do like strip tease photo sessions in the padded room. Also, Im going to have to side with IV on this one and opt for the quadrapalegic logs & Bill Hicks plan. I think DDR would be hard with out arms for balance. Plus Bill & Fire? Much more soothing to the troubled soul.