The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘yikes’

Crib Assembly

A number of years ago for Christmas I bought my mom a book, The Hypochondriac’s Guide to Life. And Death. It’s a humorous book that jokingly attempts to so overwhelm the reader with rare and deadly diseases that you can’t help but give up on your hypochondria.

My mom is not actually a hypochondriac at all, but she is one for her children. When I was 21 I was about 6’3 and let’s say 150-160 pounds … in case that doesn’t help – TALL AND SKINNY. I was debating the idea of signing up for a marathon class at college to help me prep for a marathon. Why not, right? My mom had recently seen a Sunday night news program talking about a tall, skinny, in shape young man who died suddenly and unexpectedly while training for a marathon. It was an incredibly rare heart condition that is generally only seen in skinny and tall fellas. Motivated by this, my mom made an appointment for me to get an EKG to check on my heart.

FullSizeRender(1)Having just opened up a box containing the pieces that will be used to assemble a (dear God please let it be safe and sturdy) crib, I am beginning to see the foundations of her hypochondria by proxy.

WARNING. IF YOU ARE WEARING A BAGGY T-SHIRT OR OUT-OF-FASHION SHORTS WHILE ASSEMBLING THIS CRIB, THIS MAY BE A HAZARD.

I think there is a warning for everything in the instructions. It’s comical until you reflect and realize what led to every single additional warning, and then it is gut-wrenching. Louis C.K.’s edgy don’t-touch-that-topic style approach to humor has nothing on crib assembly instructions.

The crazy thing is, even acknowledging this makes me fearful. What have you done to me, unborn child?

P.S. This may be the only product I will have ever registered for, since they send safety alerts. For once in my life, I’ll be rooting for spam instead of a real email.

Advertisements

Changes Afoot

Goodbye apartment, hello home.

Goodbye rent, hello mortgage.

Goodbye crazy global travels, hello worrying about money for the mortgage payment. (Gah.)

Goodbye current corporate overlord, hello new corporate overlord.

(Which also means a sad goodbye friends, hello strangers who will hopefully be nice.)

Goodbye Texas, hello Colorado.

Goodbye old life, hello new life.

All in all, the lady and I are terrified and excited and apprehensive and jazzed and living the life of an emotional pendulum.

busy apartment

Goodbye apartment box-maze, hello home that can fit this much stuff

“So … That’s a No?”

“Corruption and envy and lust for power. Cruelty and coldness. A vicious, probing curiosity. Pure, poisonous, toxic malice. You have never from your earliest years shown a shred of compassion or sympathy or kindness without calculating how it would return to your advantage. You have tortured and killed without regret or hesitation; you have betrayed and intrigued and gloried in your treachery. You are a cesspit of moral filth.”

The Amber Spyglass, by Philip Pullman

When I read this I thought, woah, that’s some insult. Then I imagined myself memorizing this phrase, or having it handy for when I get a call from a salesperson.

“We noticed you’re not currently getting … Would you like to embrace this opportunity to make yourself a better person by paying us money?”
I respond with that crazy thing. Maybe leaving out the part about murder and torture, maybe not.
“So … That’s a no?”

Wonder Tourist

 

Australia Rottnest Island

My Zombie Roomy (10/8/12)

The food list. The much anticipated (artistic liberties are my favorite) list. Well, “list.” The list is really more a set of rules.

I think they are good rules, and I’m definitely open to improvements. (Although to be honest the Zombie has been following these rules for about 2 weeks already and when it comes to eating people it’s hard to call take-backs …)

Please feel free to pass on your thoughts for more Zombino rules! Without further ado …

  1. I can’t name someone specific. (Like, say, when that guy flipped me off AND slowed down to curse at me when I was jogging and dude, come on, I had the little white ‘walk now’ guy. Jerk.)
  2. It can’t be a red head. (This one isn’t for me, it’s just that the Zombie has some weird affinity for red heads. I have tried to figure out if he was one himself … but I haven’t had any luck on that campaign. Besides, red heads have it tough enough as is. And I’m part of the problem.
  3. If Oprah, Ellen, and Clifford sat down with this person even they would think evil thoughts. CLIFFORD, guys, come on. That’s a good test.
  4. It has to be someone with a fighting chance. This is for the person’s sake and the Zombie’s (in romance you always want to have a little chase … and like I said before, this is the Zombie’s romance). Also, come on, it’s just not fair to pick on someone who doesn’t have a shot. Also, if some sort of zombie apocalypse happens wouldn’t the first time you see a zombie kill someone set you into action much faster if the zombie attack was like a fight scene from a movie? This is for your sake, too.
  5. Not me!! (Selfish, but a good real.)

That’s it for the rules. Hopefully I don’t have any glaring gaps.

Las Vegas Lip Dub

Happy Birthday to … Mom

October is a big birthday month in my family. I decided to do a little post for some of the birthday boys and girls I know.

After college graduation I moved to California. I kept in touch with my then ex-girlfriend. We had broken up because of the move, so we were in a weird ‘what is this’ state.

I’ll get to the mom element of this, I promise, it’ll just take a second.

One day  [I’m skipping the sob story version of this] things between the ex and I ended. Wah wah wah. They ended in a way I hadn’t expected. I was in the library parking lot, about to go in the library to check emails and hang out (it’s a really nice library).

After getting off the phone with my ex (who I had yelled at a bit – sorry about that …) I decided to call my sister to say, “well, [ex] and I won’t be talking any more.” I got a hold of E$, who said, “hey!” then I said, “hey” … and then, ruh roh, a bag full of emotions came pouring out of me.

I made some sort of animal being tortured noise, she guessed, “is it [ex]?” and I replied, “gotta go.”

I ended up talking to my ex one or two more times that day (ending on a way too civil weird note), and my sister. The next day I talked to my mom briefly, who happened to be out shopping with my sister the day before when I’d called.

The reason for this story is the line my mom said to me. We talked for a bit about this and that and then she said,

“We don’t have to talk about [ex] but I just want you to know if I ever see her I will murder her with an axe.”

Fantastic, right? I liked that not only was my mom looking out for me, but she was looking out for me with a very specific (and gruesome) weapon of choice.

Happy bday to my warrior mom!

%d bloggers like this: