Saturday, January 9, 2010

In Which I Fail at the Internet, and Contemplate Exactly Nothing

Geez. This first post is too much pressure. Where do I want to go with this? What do I have to say? Do I want to write something thoughtful, introspective, luminous, beautiful? Eh. Maybe I want to write something funny? What if I'm not funny? Then people will mock me and I will fail the internet. My life will be ruined and I'll have to turn tricks for crack on the street. I don't think I'd make a very good crack whore...I don't even want to take off my clothes in the shower. So let's just accept that this first post is going to suck like a Baptist virgin, and let it go.
I ran out of anxiety medication a couple days ago and my brain is racing like a hummingbird on meth, anyway. Which makes me think of that phrase people use. The one about being comfortable in your own skin. This phrase puzzles me. Right now I'm not particularly comfortable in my own skin. Its trying to crawl away and it doesn't fit right. But I don't think I would be more comfortable in anyone else's skin. That phrase is sort of psychotic right? Like, Buffalo Bill psychotic.
I suppose I could introduce myself. I live in the south. I am a lapsed Baptist. I have anxiety and mild OCD. I have a master's degree in environmental science, and I work for the only republican environmental company in the United States. In fact, I work for the only environmental company where none of the higher ups believe in global warming or recycling, and they all voted for W and McCain. I've been married for four years. In total, we've been together for almost 10 years. I am likely to be hit on by homeless men at any given time. I'm not entirely sure what this says about me, but I'm pretty sure it says something. Crazy people love me and they can find me anywhere. My husband refuses to go out in public with me anymore because we are almost always accosted by strangers who want to tell me their life stories. This is a trait I inherited from my mother. In college, my husband had a roommate who seemed quiet, sweet, a little nerdy. The day he moved in I came over to see my husband (who was my boyfriend, then). The roommate stood in the doorway to the suite for 2 hours telling me about how he was gay but no one knew. He'd been raped by a man with AIDS who shot his cousin. And he had a hole in his heart. Interesting side note, he disappeared for two weeks half way through the semester. A strange man appeared at the dorm and banged on the door to their room for 10 minutes, shouting the roommates name. The roommate reappeared at 3 a.m. one morning and moved all of his stuff out.
I'm pretty sure a minor version of the 10 plagues is being re-enacted in my house. I mentioned the OCD, so please be reassured my house is clean. We have had fleas (I finally got rid of them, not before threatening to burn the house down, salt the earth, and start over somewhere else). We had a rat fall into the heater. It fell through the stovepipe into the actual furnace. Where it proceeded to die and deprive us of heat. We are overrun with palmetto bugs. If you don't know what that is, picture a roach, multiply it by 100 and give it wings. Giant mutant roaches that FLY and are completely NOT AFRAID OF HUMANS. This is an abomination. I am pretty sure they are sent straight from the pits of hell to torture me. And even though they are evil in a hard crunchy shell, I cannot bring myself to kill them. Sometimes the dogs kill them, but mostly the dogs dump them on their backs where they play dead until I try to clean them up. We have had ants, which lived in the dishwasher. Now candlemoths, which came from a bag of organic rice from the farmer's market. I know they came from that rice because I cooked that rice before I knew they were in there. Then I taste tested the rice. Then I noticed the worms. I cannot ever eat white rice again. These things are ridiculous, and when you kill them you look ridiculous. I am looking at my husband right now. His eyes are crossed and his arms are straight out from his body, and he is randomly slapping his palms together. He looks like a mentally challenged seal. Then there were some more rodents, and I am a little afraid of what is coming next. But since I am off my meds, I'm sure I can come up with something awful...snakes? Bats? Wolverines? Badgers?

1 comment:

  1. This is pretty much the best first post in the history of blogs.