Okay, not really. It's been some time (no it hasn't) since I have related to you divine people some of the preposterous things that happen to me on a daily basis which beg the question "Why doesn't this child have a HANDLER or a CAREGIVER or at least a HELMET to keep her and those around her safe from herself?" So here we go, the latest in my misadventures in trying to SURVIVE my own IDIOCY.
I went outside to contemplate the universe smoke a cigarette and several things happened. I first waved frantically, as I always do, to the Two A-Holes across the courtyard who were walking their stupid hamsters delightful lap dogs, and they looked at me as if I was sprouting another head. This, in and of itself, is not a very big deal, as they ARE A-Holes, and rarely acknowledge my existence, much less the frantic waving. But this time they really looked horrified, so I got a little self-conscious and as Common Sense bellowed "THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOUR APPEARANCE, WHEN IS THE LAST TIME YOU WORE ANYTHING BUT PINK NIGHTPANTS, ANYWAY" I peered at my reflection in the door, to see that all of my hair in the front was sticking straight up, a la Cameron Diaz with spoo in her bangs, and boy oh boy did I look pretty. I was also wearing an Ozzy Osbourne t-shirt and the aforementioned pink nightpants. And purple furry slippers. It was 4 PM. Nice.
Oh, and then I tried to light a cigarette I had neglected to actually put in my mouth, and almost set my lips on fire. So there's that, too.
Then there was the time I was in the store buying crack Red Bull and maybe I had a bunch of them, and maybe it was nighttime, and the dude behind the counter was all "Gotta stay up, huh?" and I displayed a charming habit I have of OVERSHARING ALL THE TIME and rattled off the following:
"I've gotta catch a flight! Gotta be up at 3 AM! I'm going to Vegas! For a conference, but it's not really a conference, it's a bunch of very talented and good looking writers who wanted to meet up, and hell, why not go to Vegas, right? So I have to stay up! Up for a long time! And it's better than UNCUT CRYSTAL METH, AM I RIGHT??"
Oversharing. It's what's for dinner!
And THEN there's the whole issue with The Fiddler, talk about OVERSHARING, but…wait, I haven't talked about the Fiddler yet. That's going to have to wait.
Okay, I'm really rambling now. OH! And I was checking my mail on Shmoekay Lupid the other day, and some dude IMed me and started being all flirty flirty and I didn't have the heart to say "Uh, dude, I really have to go, no, seriously" so I went all therapist on him and convinced him to call his ex, he still cared about her, why not give it another shot? And then he thanked me, because I was right.
I'm a HEALER. A very SINGLE healer.
So that's it. I am very, very dangerous to be around, especially if you're me. So WATCH YOUR NECK, and I will watch mine, and probably give myself whiplash in the process, but that's to be expected, am I right? Yes, yes I am.