Don't Drug-Text me

Today, my beloved Ligie had to go have an MRI. My sweetie has a little anxiety over closed spaces (such as airplanes...), so about three Xanax made their way into her system before she had to go into the cage. Her appointment was at 3:30, so by the time I got out of class at 5pm, they had firmly begun to knock her unconscious.

As is my usual plan of action, I was going to stop by Starbucks on the way home, so I called her to see if she wanted anything. The first phone call went unanswered, the second was answered by silence, and the third went to voicemail. At this point I just wanted to cover my butt in case she was awake when I got home with one coffee in hand, so I sent her a text. No answer, so one coffee it was.

When I finally arrived, my sweetie was laying on top of the bed, completely out cold. I'll leave out the part about the drool-covered pillow, so that we can all pretend that never happened.

Oops.

Alice was laying on top of her, cleaning her hair, so I grabbed Barb's cell phone to take a video of it, to show her later. It was open, and on it was the following message, mid-composition:

"Ohhkthcmds ilwj"

That was her response to me. My beloved passed out as she was writing it. In hindsight, I should be grateful, because while I speak drugged-Ligie, drugged-texting-Ligie is a little bit of a stretch. I have a feeling that had I given that to a barista, Barb would have got a half-caf-double-shot-three-pump-sugar-free-mocha-chip-latte. Hold the whip.

Having the Most Amusing Friends

The below is an excerpt from my poetry course, a little something I wrote concerning Walt Whitman's "O Captain! My Captain!"

"You'll need to color me a little green, as far as American history goes, I'm afraid, but I wonder if there's any importance to the fact that Whitman wrote this just after Lincoln died. Is it possible he's using the ship as a metaphor for all the good that Lincoln managed to bring to the country (remember, please, I don't know what I'm talking about!), and commenting on Lincoln now not being here to enjoy it? Perhaps it was related to slavery?

Actually, I just looked up a basic Abraham Lincoln biography, and it seems his grandfather was a Captain in the revolutionary militia, and shared the same name. I would imagine that's just a coincidence, but it still struck me as interesting. Under that biography, however, I noticed that the Civil War ended just 6 days before Lincoln was shot, and that definitely seems like it could be the subject of O Captain! My Captain."

A few moments later, in a conversation with my buddy Kris, the following transpired:

Me: i'm totally about to cheat...and post one of my old poems to the main threaded discussion
Kris: lol nice
Me: :D Cheater cheater purple people eater
Kris: LMFAO wow Lisa... making reference to Abe Lincoln and learning the purple people eater song all in ONE day, you might as well be a fucking American citizen.
Me: Well done, hon, you just made the blog!

Pillow Talk

Welcome to another edition of "Pillow Talk".

Lisa: In last night's dream, there were cellos, rug snakes and kittens.

Me: Rug Snakes? WTF is a rug snake?

Lisa: I don't remember, but the rug snakes killed the kittens. Then my Dad was playing the violin while naked.

Me: Ok, I'm going to vomit.


Seriously - How can I still love her? Some people pay very good money for mind trips that she takes naturally every night. Other people end up in Trenton State Hosp. trying to stop these same trips. lol

On Why Humanity Is Destined To Fail

The following scene took place outside my house this morning. I was granted the glory of seeing this because they were not using 'inside voices' and the commotion caused me to peer out of my window. Who needs Springer or Judge Judy when you live in central Jersey?

Obese Child #1: (loud whine) We have to find him! (Whips a leash around his head as if it were a lasso)

Obese Child #2: (Dressed In Wife Beater, White Jean Shorts, and Slippers) Why'd you take him off the string?

OC#1: I told you I had to pee! Not my fault. Why didn't you catch 'im?
They stop walking in front of the house and I am riveted by the sheer drama
OC#2: Why didn't you?
Ooooooh! Burn!

OC#1: I had to pee, stupid. (OC#1 pushes OC#2)

OC#2: I can kill you easy.

OC#1: Can't. I can scream. Beside, my mom will yell at your dad.
Easy to see who the bitch of the pair is
OC#2: I don't care. I don't like you. You lost 'im. It's your fault. My dad'll hit you good.

OC#1: It wasn't my fault! Why didn't you get 'im?

OC#2: I couldn't. It's your fault, and my dad'll be mad at your mom. (kicks OC#1's leg)

OC#1: Stop it!

OC#2: Make me!

Scrapping fight ensues as a shady white car pulls up and a guy gets out dressed almost exactly as OC#2, but with high socks and short boots.

Man: Get in the car! Damn dog's got home but I had to come get your asses? What the hell are you doing out here? Playing with yourselves? (spits on the ground)

OC#2: Dad, it's his fault. I tried to find Joey, but I couldn't.

OC#1: He didn't try to find 'im! I did!

Smaller scuffle

Man: Both you boys are gonna get it if you're not in this car now!
Kids scurry in while trying to get smacks in at one another. The door shuts with a rusty screech sound and the man looks around the street, adjusts himself, lights a smoke and gets in and drives away.

I don't think I truly understand the magnitude of what happened outside, but that whole 'Nature vs. Nurture' argument was kind of playing out on my street.

Said In Front Of Me At Work

I swear I still think it was a hallucination...

Co-Worker 1: (out of nowhere and in reference to nothing) I LOVE nude beaches. Stumbling on those are great. I tried to get my wife to go to one, and she refuses.

Co-Worker 2: (Rolling eyes) Smith*, Shut up. I'm going to vomit from the thought of you at a nude beach.

Co-Worker 3: Smith LOVES to see the naked girls, doncha Smith? I'll bet he does! I'll bet he likes to see them, but not as much as Barbara does! (hysterical/maniacal laughter from her) Right? Am I right? Barbara LOVES to see those girls at a nude beach.

Me: (Slinking into my chair and wishing that a wild rabid hyena would tear into the room and devour this person on the spot) Can we NOT?!

Co-Worker 3: Not what?

Me: Can we NOT discuss or speculate on what I may or may not like in any realm of possibilities? I would rather not discuss mine or anyone else's preferences for anything non-work related in this environment.

Co-Worker 3: Really? Because I think I'd be interested in seeing those girls too. I mean, not that I'm, you know, like you - but just for the sake of curiosity.

Co-Worker 1: Oh, i don't know. A lot of those people on nude beaches don't have much of a right to walk around naked, if you know what I mean - Unattractive! (He then belches)

Me: Oh. My. God. This isn't real, right? Can we all shut up now? Am I even here? (I slap myself in the face)

Co-Worker 3: (as if I've said nothing in the past few moments) ...I mean, it's only natural and stuff. Are there those types of beaches around? Barbara must know...

(Slam of the door as I escape to the sanity of the locker room)

OMGWTFBBQ?


*names changed to protect the ignorant as well as myself from a doocing.

An Email From My Sister

My sister sent this to me, and I had to share, since I took a language in school that is actually useful in my own daily life/work. She chose differently. Yay for the sub-standard schooling of our youth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today I get an email from a former franchisee looking to open a new office, and I decide to jump on it.

GET THIS: He used to be in British Columbia (Canada); he moved to Les Houches (France) and asked me with his fancy French ways "would it be possible to start a franchise in the EU?"

So, I answer him back, "Absolument! Which states and counties are you interested in?"--because in my limited knowledge of French, EU stands for "Etas Unis" which is "United States" in English. So, I assume [erroneously] that he is moving back to the States and looking for opportunity HERE.

Anyway, the new sales manager politely informs me that EU actually stands for European Union, which after a little online research I found is made up of 27 countries which use the Euro as their currency: France, Ireland, Denmark, the UK, etc. are some of the bigger ones.

So, I have egg on my face.

THANK YOU VERY MUCH, MADEMOISELLE DUPUIS--I OBVIOUSLY HAVE NO USE FOR THE BEAUTIFUL BUT WORTHLESS FRENCH LANGUAGE APPLICATION IN REAL LIFE, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF BEING ABLE TO READ "LE PETIT PRINCE" IN FRENCH AND UNDERSTANDING THE STORY. OTHERWISE, IT IS ABSOLUTELY USELESS TO ME! MERDE!

On Being Misheard

(A classroom, in a school, somewhere in America)

Indian Professor: Give me an example of data.
British Student: The price of a product.
Indian Professor: Bra support?!
British Student: ...No. That's definitely not what I said.
Indian Professor: Oh, you know, foreign accents can be so confusing.

Grrrr. Arrrrrg.

I'm at my primary place of employment. I am angry. I am having a hard time not expressing this anger in ways that might:

A) Violate another person's right to (continued) life
B) Violate many laws and/or the Constitution
C) Violate common manners
or
D) Break a nail

So, instead, I searched Google images to find things to represent these feelings. I shall post them, so might join with me in working through these feelings. I am also going to set my iPod to play some of my most angry, violence-based music at inappropriate levels. This always helps to calm me down. Or clam me up. Either way, I'll be focused on things other than destroying another human being.

This is how I know I am failing at my Buddhist practice. I need more, uh, practice.

Overheard at Work

Tutor: What's the answer to B?
Student: 25.
Tutor: Really?
Student: Yes.
Tutor: Is that your final answer?
Student: Yes.
Tutor: Well then you're wrong.

< a pause >

Student: It's so hard to please you.

Employee Inequality

On Tuesday, my entire department at CFU received an email from our boss. Basically, it appears that other staff members around the University have been complaining about our use of the Employee Lounge.

Yes, you read that right.

These workers do not deem us worthy of having the same rights as them, and honestly are suffering from downright rudeness, not even verging on it. Yesterday, one of the women who works in the Admin office said to my friend (and co-worker), A: "You do know this is for employees only, right?"

A, bless her, left and spoke to the boss about it, and sometime I wish I had that restraint. If that had been me in that room, there'd have been pistols at dawn. "Yes, thank you, I am one. Just like you. With the same RIGHTS as you. Except, you get benefits. And a decent paycheck."

For some reason, the entire situation has just gotten my goat in a tizzy. I can't bear inequality of any kind, be it gender, sexual orientation, international, or even something as stupid as arguing over a place to eat. Now some of the people are arguing that it's a 'Faculty Lounge', even though it says 'Employee Lounge' in a sign on the door. And admins aren't faculty either, dumbass. But, I'm withholding my aggression, and have finally reached a point where I can blog about this without screaming. I'm not the most rational person, and I simply cannot tolerate anything I deem as disrespect. This falls under that umbrella for me.

So I keep going over there, putting my stuff in the fridge, sitting down drinking coffee, eating a sandwich, almost daring someone to say something. Come on, pussies, challenge me!