Yeah, Squirrel Monkeys, I'm sorry. But it won't stop me from calling all of you Squirrel Monkeys.
And although I love all of you as much as monkeys love bananas, pun totally intended, I am not going to make a brand spanking new post tonight. This is because a rib in my back has decided to displace itself. Something about the rib above it teasing it or some shit, and it basically decided to be a chicken-butt and run. This meant that I laid down, realized I couldn't have my feet up, came back out and sat on the couch with my feet on the floor until the pain went away, repeated this process once more, cried, rolled eleventy thousand times, and then finally fell into a false sense of sleep where I woke up again and repeated part of the former process before getting exactly .3 seconds of sleep.
And I know eleventy isn't a word. Leave me alone. I'm tired, cranky, sore and it's not because anything good happened.
I also have a bruise that can be described as nothing other than it resembling a fight with Jason from Friday the 13th and winning, except for the bruise that's the size of my entire fucking knee, and it just will not go away. Now it's turning green, which I know means it's healing, but I'd prefer to tell people it's a flesh eating disease. A contagious one. I didn't even run into anything or actually do anything to make it appear, it just did, therefore further proving my stance that I can get hurt in a padded room full of nothing while sitting down. Damn.
Also, Squirrel Monkeys, I'm just exhausted from dealing with my mom. Seriously, dealing with her is like dealing with an extremely incompetent two year old. I do not say this to be mean. Ask anyone who knows her or me and they will quickly vouch for this. People this includes are her own sister and her own mother, when she will still alive. Here is a list of shit she's pulled in the last two days.
* She's trying to tell me how to make soup and will not drop trying to tell me what to do next while I'm making soup. I'm 25 and it's Ramen noodles. This from the woman who repeatedly heats something to a boil and leaves it to boil over until I catch it and take it off the stove.
* She washed her underwear with dish towels and saw nothing wrong with this. Eww. I had to redo the laundry.
* I spent an entire day a few days back organizing the spare room and showing her around. She takes paperwork and just throws it in the nightstand because she apparently couldn't pick up the folders on top of the pile and put said paperwork with the other paperwork.
* Gets everything in the world she can possibly find, be it food, dirty dishes, or paperwork and leaves it all over the freaking place, and then refuses to clean it up knowing I will because eventually it piles up in my way. Then she complains that I'm the messy one and tries to somehow blame the mess on me because I was here and talking to her and she got distracted adn never picked it up, or tell me that it's really my stuff, not hers. I'm not senile.
* I have a desk where I file paperwork. She has a 36 cubed piece of furniture for filing from Ikea. Somehow, however, her papers find a way into my desk and somehow all my shit ends up messed up. I'm honest when I say that I am a bit OCD about certain things, especially when it comes to my paperwork, since I have a shitload of it with medical files and what not. I don't bother her stuff. All I ask is she leaves mine alone. This is too hard for her.
* Consistently tell me I should be doing something instead of writing as she sits on the couch and eats chips while watching television.
* Tonight she told me to get a job. Now, if you all know I can't work because MY DOCTORS WILL NOT LET ME, which disgruntles me, then the lady who has been to EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY APPOINTMENTS and has been told various times by the doctors to lighten up on what she expects out of me because I'M ACTUALLY FUCKING SICK, should know this too.
* When I try to get around her to go into the living room, he inexplicably flips out and starts yelling at me that she was there first. Fine, I understand that, but that doesn't mean you have to stand there for five minutes in the middle of the freaking aisle way and stare at the fridge. You can take up half of the freaking aisle way and still look in the fridge.
* When I said I was hungry for pizza yesterday, she flipped out and screamed "GET OFF MY BACK ALREADY!" I didn't know she was that touchy about pizza.
* She's been a real estate agent for a year, so naturally she knows everything there is to know about real estate and argues with every TV show about real estate about how they're wrong, even though the lady on the one has been a Realtor for 16 years.
* Still can not figure out how to properly use the computer even though she's done the same thing a hundred times, but the time I happen to pass by the room she suddenly can't do it. This ends in her asking me for help and totally leaving the room and me doing it. Then she yells that I don't "help" her enough. I'm not the one who wanted to be a Realtor, nor do I understand the real estate crap, or am allowed to do some of the things she wants me to do because I'm not licensed. GEES!
* Ask me something. I answer her. She asks the same thing again not two minutes later and then insists she never asked it. This repeats three or four times over the next ten minutes.
* Won't say two shits to me during the day, but the second I get on the computer to write, make a phone call, or start doing paperwork, she can't shut up and thinks it's rude when I ask her to.
* Constantly tell me what to do about my health even though it's the exact opposite of what the doctor told me. This is especially handy when she tells me I should drink hydrogen peroxide for my stomach and yells about how I never listen and don't want to get better when I don't.
* Bites her nails constantly. If she stops for five seconds to breathe it's a miracle. That sound goes right through me. If I bring it up she either yells, or says she's not doing it...while her fingers are still in her mouth.
I could go on, but I think by now it's just useless and annoying. I'm living with an angry drama queen with a God complex. I really hope I do an equal amount of shit to annoy her or else this just isn't fair. And I know what you're thinking...she's going through menopause. No, she's been over that for about a year now. She got better for exactly four seconds and then went right back to being the scariest women in the world.
In all honesty, guys, the reason I'm writing this is because I believe something is actually wrong with her. I've noticed a mental decline in her in the last year and a half or so. She's been doing really bizarre things that I can't explain. A few examples are washing underwear with the dish towels. This is a woman who won't put her pajamas in with anything that isn't pajamas because it will "contaminate" them. She put clothespins on my key hanger. I don't even know where she got the clothespins. She'll put something in front of her and insist what she just put in front of her is not what it actually is. She's been having a bizarre amount of trouble hearing. She's not remembering things, and getting extremely angry at me when I try to bring something up that I know I told her, or she insists she told me something that she didn't. We've always butted heads over a lot of stuff, but this is abnormal behavior for her. I've not been the only one to point this out, yet she won't go and get help. Does anyone have any suggestions about what I can do in this case? I want to get her help, because I truly think something is going on and she refuses to admit it, but I don't know how to when she gets angry and refuses anything wrong. Her doing this kind of solidifies that she knows something is wrong, because she wouldn't get angry otherwise. Any suggestions are welcome.
Anyway, since I don't consider complaining to be an actual post, I'm going to pull out something from one of my four blogs and post it here. Yes, Squirrel Monkeys, there is never any reason for me to have had four blogs in the past. What can I say, I have serious ADHD. When I changed phases in my life, it was bye-bye blog, hello new blog. Add that to the three I have now and Blogger probably thinks I should go to hell. I don't blame it. Either way, there's some funny shit on my older blogs and I'm going to weed out all the unfunny and just share the funny periodically. Also, it's a great way to see how far I've come as a writer...unless I haven't changed any, then that last part was a lie.
Oh, and apparently the number of blogs I have is a lie. I have five prior blogs. I thought one belonged to Original Becky. Gees. How dumb to you have to be to not recognize your own blog? I hope I'm not catching what my mom has.
Tomorrow I will explain the mystery that Zoe has presented as to how it takes me forty five minutes to make my bed, along with pictures. Can you hardly wait?
Let me set up this post where I've changed nothing from the time I wrote it several years back. I was once in a band with a boy-kid (Boy-kid. I'm one typo away from being a country bumpkin.) three years my junior, who, at the time, was painfully shy. You can understand how this was going to work out for him. Everyone else in the band was balls out all the time, and they warned me this guy, who was just 17, was shy, but the best damn guitarist on the planet. They were not lying about either part. My right now comments are in bold.
This Is What Happens When People Can't Figure Me Out
Ridiculous ranting is what I do best. This is a gift I feel no one should ever have to put up with, however I'm sharing anyway. If it's useless information about stupidity, most likely I'll rant about it to anyone who will listen. Usually it's about my own stupidity and daily word vomit. This is one of the things that annoys me, however I have no will to stop it because I find it funny to scare people. I have no honest idea where half of the stupid shit that comes out of my mouth comes from. It attacks me, I don't attack it.
If you're a person, which I'm left to assume that you are if you're reading this, then you fall into two categories. You either love me or hate me. If you're somewhere in between this annoys me to no end. I will literally rant myself to death trying to figure out why you can't just make up your mind. Never was that more apparent than it was today.
The subject of my ranting was a poor unsuspecting seventeen year old boy (shy boy-kid), whom by the way, I didn't actually rant to, just about. The person on the brunt end of the ranting was a poor sixteen year old boy (my little brother from another mother...and father). I'm a twenty two year old girl. You can pretty much understand how wrong all of this is and probably where this is going. Wrong, but extremely funny, as my mind works in ways it doesn't want me to understand. Mind now, I totally adore both the aforementioned sixteen and seventeen year olds and wouldn't trade either for a really cute boyfriend, which, if I'm making a blog just for ranting, I so desperately need.
The conversation started out well enough until I logged onto myspace and realized that I did indeed pretty much insult said aforementioned seventeen year old when I was trying so desperately not to do so. He's a nice kid, super in fact. I would rather him not fall into the hate category as I like hanging out with his band (that he formed with the rest of the guys in the band when my health stopped me from further being in the band) and really, him hating me would just ruin that. This in turn would suck, which would make me unhappy and cause much more ranting. Trust me, no one wants that.
This is when I realized that if I insulted said seventeen year old boy, which I'm pretty much left to assume I did, then most likely I'm completely right and he falls into that in between category that bugs me. I've known him long enough that I don't think I insulted him bad enough to hate me, but I don't think he exactly loves me either. For the record, I did discuss said myspace message with others who thought it wouldn't insult said seventeen year old before sending it. Maybe it didn't and he's just thinking, but I'm kind of going with ignoring and hiding over thinking.
From there my mind totally took off. I wondered why I seriously cared if some seventeen year old liked me (as a friend). Did it matter? Oh, of course it matters, because I'm me and no one can live in that in between. Actually, I think I scare him, and yes, I'm completely okay with that.
This put me full speed ahead into a frenzy of insanity while speaking with said sixteen year old boy. Despite said sixteen year old boy insisting that said seventeen year old boy was slightly unpredictable and is just that way, that wasn't really good enough for me. Oh no, I couldn't just be happy with that. Apparently I'm neurotic.
In the midst of verbally discussing this with said sixteen year old, and by discussing I mean me talking and him trying to add random comments to make it seem like he was comfortable with the awkward conversation, I realized I went through several extremely hilarious phases. It wasn't funny at that moment, but looking back on it, it's freaking hilarious.
The first phase I went through was a general misunderstanding of said seventeen year olds brain. I didn't really get how he worked, or why he couldn't just act normally around me. One moment he's all happy to see me and all is well and good, and two seconds later he's rather odd and doesn't say two words to me. Maybe this isn't intentional and it is just who he is, but that doesn't seem justifiable to me for whatever half cracked reason. As amusing as it is, I need reasons for everything. Even if I hated his guts, which I don't, I would still feel the need to do this, because it would bug me otherwise. Really, it's the most pointless thing ever. In fact, I'm positive I could just ask him and he'd probably explain my own insanity back to me, which would solve a lot of my problems, I'm sure, but that would be two things. It would be creepy, and it would be extremely weird.
The second phase I went through basically consisted of hating pretty much everything about him. I hated him because I didn't understand him. This annoyed me. Then I realized why I was annoyed and decided I didn't hate him. From there I took the opposite approach, which brings me to my third phase.
The third phase I went through I decided I liked everything about him. Subsequently this completely made me sound like some pedophile that had a thing for him. I can totally assure you that there's an eww level that ranges somewhere in the hundreds when that thought just crosses my mind. Illegality isn't really my thing, which basically made my gag reflexes and sense of mind kick back into place.
The forth phase I went through was a clean up phase. In this phase I decided to over explain the last phase, which really only made it worse. This is the point where I really shouldn't be overly amused, but I was. I knew that I didn't mean anything in that particular way, however said sixteen year old didn't. Said sixteen year old is also friends with said seventeen year old. That's real cute, I realize.
The fifth phase kicked in, which basically was realization that the sixteen year old was probably going to tell the seventeen year old this. If said seventeen year old thinks too far into this, then I think he shall just be allowed to go into the hating me phase. It will be much easier on him, as if he doesn't I will relentlessly torment the crap out of him until he realizes that I rant through stupidity and never realize how I sound.
The sixth and final phase took place from there. I laughed and laughed. That was it. That was the conclusion of the sixth and final phase....laughter.
So thinking back on the last few hours of my life I realize exactly what I accomplished. Therefore, I shall make a list to share.
1. Because I'm neurotic and have to have people either like me or hate me, I ranted about a seventeen year old kid who couldn't decide if either worked for him. The reason for this was because I help with merch for his band and would prefer him to either talk to me, or not talk to me, because otherwise he just annoys me. I can't live that way. I realize it's a me problem, but I can't.
2. This made me sound like I apparently had a thing for said seventeen year old, which I do not. Then I had to talk my way out of it which only made it worse. Pretty much I dug my own hole by saying the most innocent honest things. Apparently my verbage needs more help that I can properly provide for it. If I had the money, I assure you it would be put to good use for a brain scan, but I don't. Sorry.
3. I laughed and laughed because I take some weird joy in scaring people, and this definitely did it. If people don't know how to take me by now, they never will.
4. I now realize that somewhere down the line this is going to bite me in the ass. However, still funny.
Basically I post links to my blog on everything, as well as my contact info as far as IM's go. I won't be an idiot and do it on here. What I'm saying is, it's basically not hard to stalk me. That's so far beyond the point of where I was going with this.
All I'm saying is, said seventeen year old, if you end up coming across this link and see this, or one of your friends do, and I'm sure they will and send it to you, feel free to laugh hysterically at my idiocy knowing that I think you're a super cool kid and I just want to help your band. (It's also 1:30 in the morning, which should explain a lot.) I meant nothing by my fingers moving quicker than my brain can think. And please, for the sake of my sanity and your humility, just decide if I scare you or not and let me know so I don't drive us and the people around us crazy. It would be appreciated. Thanks.
If you would just do this a lot of senseless ranting that's happened in the last few days, including a very random conversation about stalking and illegality with another one of your band members, would not have happened. I would sleep better at night, and it would really make my life a bunch brighter. Also, I could finally stop sounding like a pedophile creep, which I would really appreciate because I promise you I'm not. If I am please let God strike me with lightening now. See...still alive. In fact, you've known me long enough to know this. So please, just make up your mind so the world is a much less complicated place for the people around me, because don't you feel bad for them that they have to listen to this?
That being said, this really isn't your fault either. I probably do scare you, but I'm probably always going to, so just get over it. It won't get better. I'm just ridiculously odd. I've also never brought this up to you for reasons that I think were made painfully obvious in the above text. You might want to thank me later for that.
Okay, done ranting now, because I'm digging myself into a whole other hole that I will wait to forge my way out of another day. Here's to hoping the next rant is about something more important like the bleach I put in my hair totally fucking it up or something else shallow, because I never rant about anything important. Oh no, I only rant about stupid shit that doesn't really matter, not even to me. It just bugs me, therefore taking presidence over my thoughts. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Also, if you're reading this and either know me, or are getting to know me, just let this be a warning to you. Just decide if you like me or not, or else the next rant I do will probably be about you, but not to you, unless of course that's the way you want it, then by all means, don't decide. Just let me go crazy. I'm sure it will get me committed eventually. So if that's your goal, you know my weak spot.
Just so you all know, said seventeen year old and I are still friends today, nearly four years after I first began scaring him; a year before this story took place. In fact, anytime I see him, the six foot four bear of a guy picks me up and hugs me. This relationship hasn't been without a ton of awkward moments and a lot of weird questions, but we're good now. I'm also still friends with brother from another mother. I go to their shows when I physically can. And boy-kid is now less shy than I am. I like to think I helped him along the way with that, however, after the hugging, he resumes being shy with me. One day I'll find out why. He also grew up to be incredibly cute. I should tell him that one time. I bet he doesn't hug me again.
If you're a person, which I'm left to assume that you are if you're reading this, then you fall into two categories. You either love me or hate me. If you're somewhere in between this annoys me to no end. I will literally rant myself to death trying to figure out why you can't just make up your mind. Never was that more apparent than it was today.
The subject of my ranting was a poor unsuspecting seventeen year old boy (shy boy-kid), whom by the way, I didn't actually rant to, just about. The person on the brunt end of the ranting was a poor sixteen year old boy (my little brother from another mother...and father). I'm a twenty two year old girl. You can pretty much understand how wrong all of this is and probably where this is going. Wrong, but extremely funny, as my mind works in ways it doesn't want me to understand. Mind now, I totally adore both the aforementioned sixteen and seventeen year olds and wouldn't trade either for a really cute boyfriend, which, if I'm making a blog just for ranting, I so desperately need.
The conversation started out well enough until I logged onto myspace and realized that I did indeed pretty much insult said aforementioned seventeen year old when I was trying so desperately not to do so. He's a nice kid, super in fact. I would rather him not fall into the hate category as I like hanging out with his band (that he formed with the rest of the guys in the band when my health stopped me from further being in the band) and really, him hating me would just ruin that. This in turn would suck, which would make me unhappy and cause much more ranting. Trust me, no one wants that.
This is when I realized that if I insulted said seventeen year old boy, which I'm pretty much left to assume I did, then most likely I'm completely right and he falls into that in between category that bugs me. I've known him long enough that I don't think I insulted him bad enough to hate me, but I don't think he exactly loves me either. For the record, I did discuss said myspace message with others who thought it wouldn't insult said seventeen year old before sending it. Maybe it didn't and he's just thinking, but I'm kind of going with ignoring and hiding over thinking.
From there my mind totally took off. I wondered why I seriously cared if some seventeen year old liked me (as a friend). Did it matter? Oh, of course it matters, because I'm me and no one can live in that in between. Actually, I think I scare him, and yes, I'm completely okay with that.
This put me full speed ahead into a frenzy of insanity while speaking with said sixteen year old boy. Despite said sixteen year old boy insisting that said seventeen year old boy was slightly unpredictable and is just that way, that wasn't really good enough for me. Oh no, I couldn't just be happy with that. Apparently I'm neurotic.
In the midst of verbally discussing this with said sixteen year old, and by discussing I mean me talking and him trying to add random comments to make it seem like he was comfortable with the awkward conversation, I realized I went through several extremely hilarious phases. It wasn't funny at that moment, but looking back on it, it's freaking hilarious.
The first phase I went through was a general misunderstanding of said seventeen year olds brain. I didn't really get how he worked, or why he couldn't just act normally around me. One moment he's all happy to see me and all is well and good, and two seconds later he's rather odd and doesn't say two words to me. Maybe this isn't intentional and it is just who he is, but that doesn't seem justifiable to me for whatever half cracked reason. As amusing as it is, I need reasons for everything. Even if I hated his guts, which I don't, I would still feel the need to do this, because it would bug me otherwise. Really, it's the most pointless thing ever. In fact, I'm positive I could just ask him and he'd probably explain my own insanity back to me, which would solve a lot of my problems, I'm sure, but that would be two things. It would be creepy, and it would be extremely weird.
The second phase I went through basically consisted of hating pretty much everything about him. I hated him because I didn't understand him. This annoyed me. Then I realized why I was annoyed and decided I didn't hate him. From there I took the opposite approach, which brings me to my third phase.
The third phase I went through I decided I liked everything about him. Subsequently this completely made me sound like some pedophile that had a thing for him. I can totally assure you that there's an eww level that ranges somewhere in the hundreds when that thought just crosses my mind. Illegality isn't really my thing, which basically made my gag reflexes and sense of mind kick back into place.
The forth phase I went through was a clean up phase. In this phase I decided to over explain the last phase, which really only made it worse. This is the point where I really shouldn't be overly amused, but I was. I knew that I didn't mean anything in that particular way, however said sixteen year old didn't. Said sixteen year old is also friends with said seventeen year old. That's real cute, I realize.
The fifth phase kicked in, which basically was realization that the sixteen year old was probably going to tell the seventeen year old this. If said seventeen year old thinks too far into this, then I think he shall just be allowed to go into the hating me phase. It will be much easier on him, as if he doesn't I will relentlessly torment the crap out of him until he realizes that I rant through stupidity and never realize how I sound.
The sixth and final phase took place from there. I laughed and laughed. That was it. That was the conclusion of the sixth and final phase....laughter.
So thinking back on the last few hours of my life I realize exactly what I accomplished. Therefore, I shall make a list to share.
1. Because I'm neurotic and have to have people either like me or hate me, I ranted about a seventeen year old kid who couldn't decide if either worked for him. The reason for this was because I help with merch for his band and would prefer him to either talk to me, or not talk to me, because otherwise he just annoys me. I can't live that way. I realize it's a me problem, but I can't.
2. This made me sound like I apparently had a thing for said seventeen year old, which I do not. Then I had to talk my way out of it which only made it worse. Pretty much I dug my own hole by saying the most innocent honest things. Apparently my verbage needs more help that I can properly provide for it. If I had the money, I assure you it would be put to good use for a brain scan, but I don't. Sorry.
3. I laughed and laughed because I take some weird joy in scaring people, and this definitely did it. If people don't know how to take me by now, they never will.
4. I now realize that somewhere down the line this is going to bite me in the ass. However, still funny.
Basically I post links to my blog on everything, as well as my contact info as far as IM's go. I won't be an idiot and do it on here. What I'm saying is, it's basically not hard to stalk me. That's so far beyond the point of where I was going with this.
All I'm saying is, said seventeen year old, if you end up coming across this link and see this, or one of your friends do, and I'm sure they will and send it to you, feel free to laugh hysterically at my idiocy knowing that I think you're a super cool kid and I just want to help your band. (It's also 1:30 in the morning, which should explain a lot.) I meant nothing by my fingers moving quicker than my brain can think. And please, for the sake of my sanity and your humility, just decide if I scare you or not and let me know so I don't drive us and the people around us crazy. It would be appreciated. Thanks.
If you would just do this a lot of senseless ranting that's happened in the last few days, including a very random conversation about stalking and illegality with another one of your band members, would not have happened. I would sleep better at night, and it would really make my life a bunch brighter. Also, I could finally stop sounding like a pedophile creep, which I would really appreciate because I promise you I'm not. If I am please let God strike me with lightening now. See...still alive. In fact, you've known me long enough to know this. So please, just make up your mind so the world is a much less complicated place for the people around me, because don't you feel bad for them that they have to listen to this?
That being said, this really isn't your fault either. I probably do scare you, but I'm probably always going to, so just get over it. It won't get better. I'm just ridiculously odd. I've also never brought this up to you for reasons that I think were made painfully obvious in the above text. You might want to thank me later for that.
Okay, done ranting now, because I'm digging myself into a whole other hole that I will wait to forge my way out of another day. Here's to hoping the next rant is about something more important like the bleach I put in my hair totally fucking it up or something else shallow, because I never rant about anything important. Oh no, I only rant about stupid shit that doesn't really matter, not even to me. It just bugs me, therefore taking presidence over my thoughts. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Also, if you're reading this and either know me, or are getting to know me, just let this be a warning to you. Just decide if you like me or not, or else the next rant I do will probably be about you, but not to you, unless of course that's the way you want it, then by all means, don't decide. Just let me go crazy. I'm sure it will get me committed eventually. So if that's your goal, you know my weak spot.
Just so you all know, said seventeen year old and I are still friends today, nearly four years after I first began scaring him; a year before this story took place. In fact, anytime I see him, the six foot four bear of a guy picks me up and hugs me. This relationship hasn't been without a ton of awkward moments and a lot of weird questions, but we're good now. I'm also still friends with brother from another mother. I go to their shows when I physically can. And boy-kid is now less shy than I am. I like to think I helped him along the way with that, however, after the hugging, he resumes being shy with me. One day I'll find out why. He also grew up to be incredibly cute. I should tell him that one time. I bet he doesn't hug me again.
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1 comment:
And the award for the longest blog-post ever goes to... Cassadee!
Squirrel Monkeys sounds like a pretty awesome nickname, if I am honest!
Jason?! Why not Freddy?! He is so much cooler, and scarier, because there is nothing worse than trying to stay awake, and then dreaming whilst you're awake... and yes. Freddy is unanimously scarier.
I certainly think your Mum and mine share some traits, but without meaning to sound offensive, does your Mum deliberately do those things just to annoy you? Mine may say or do something to get a reaction out of me simply so she can yell, but mygosh. She should know that telling you to get a job is impossible. -shakes head-. Sigh.
Oooo, I cannot wait for the mystery and the pictures!
I swear this is your longest blog post to date, and I dare not go through all the others just to prove it!
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