About these ads

Category Archives: holidays

April 1, 2013

Only fools rush in. Unless I stab them with a letter opener. Less rushing, more bleeding.

By lucysfootball

One thing kids like is to be tricked.  For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse.  “Oh, no,” I said.  “Disneyland burned down.”  He cried and cried, but I think that deep down, he thought it was a pretty good joke.  I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.  ~Jack Handey

It is April Fools’ Day. I don’t care for such things. Mostly because I think this day gives people license to be a total and complete jerk to others, and then when you don’t laugh at the joke, YOU look like the ass. Because YOU ARE NOT IN THE MOOD OF THE DAY.

HA HA A TERRIFYING CLOWN. That's hysterical.

HA HA A TERRIFYING CLOWN. That’s hysterical.

On Friday at work, my coworkers thought it was funny to leap out at people. I’m not sure if they were doing a pre-April-Fools’-celebration, or it was just a funny thing they were doing. One person leaped out at my boss, which scared her so much she screamed, then cried. This made everyone laugh and laugh. THAT IS NOT FUNNY. When friend A. came over to tell me how awesome that prank had been, I told him in NO uncertain terms that if anyone ever did such a thing to me, I would stab them with my letter opener. I’m pretty sure he knew from my stern face I wasn’t kidding. And by the fact I put my letter opener right by my mouse for easy access.

See, I have an insane startle reflex. I have a touch of PTSD from things that have happened in the past, and I do not like things popping out at me. I’ve talked before about how terrible I am at haunted houses around Halloween, because there, you are PAYING for people to leap out at you. I also don’t like surprise parties where people jump out at you. What the hell is fun about people leaping out at you like that? Nothing. I would walk right out of that party. When I was about six or seven my parents had one of those parties for me and every photo of me at that party are me pouting because people all leaped out and I was SO MAD because I felt like I was being TRICKED.

NOT FUNNY. You are all dead to me now.

NOT FUNNY. You are all dead to me now.

Anyway, so today, I thought I would research April Fools’ pranks and we would talk about them. And why they are a mistake. A TOTAL MISTAKE.

So first, there is a whole website of pranks. It has helpful tips like “plan ahead!” and “make sure you’re not being MEAN!” and “don’t prank strangers!” Well, once you prank a friend using one of these, they’re going to become a stranger, because they’re sure as hell not going to be your friend anymore.

Here are some VERY GOOD IDEAS* (*not at all good):

  • “Go into your victim’s closet and steal one of each of their shoes. Hide them and then laugh while they frantically try to find a match!” Um. If someone stole one of each of my shoes and used up the minimal time I have in the morning to get ready, and I found out they did that, I would beat them around the head and neck with the remaining shoe. And also I’d be late for work. That’s not funny, that’s asshatty. Also, what are you doing in my house? Did you sneak in like a burglar? I live alone. This is worrisome.
  • “Take a box of cereal, crackers, etc., and cut out the entire bottom. Set the box on the cupboard shelf and then dump the cereal or crackers straight into the top of the box (if the contents of the box came in a plastic bag, discard the bag). Close the top. Then, when your victim goes to grab the box, the contents will fall straight out onto the floor!” OMG WHAT. What a mess. WHAT. A. MESS. Also, cereal is not CHEAP, you know. You just wasted my good cereal by TOUCHING it, then making me dump it on the FLOOR. Also, again, may I ask how you got in my house?
  • “Take your victim’s disposable water bottle and make sure the lid is on tight and that it is completely full. Then take a small push pin and put several holes in the bottom. A small amount of water will drip out when you do this, but then water pressure will prevent any more from coming out the holes. When your victim grabs the bottle, it will either leak when they squeeze it, or water will come pouring out of the holes when they take off the top.” Again, this is such a douche move. You just ruined my clothing and also my water bottle. Now I have to get changed, and also get a new bottle of water. Again, HOW DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE.

    Get out of my house, you prankster. WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT CROWBAR.

    Get out of my house, you prankster. WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT CROWBAR.

  • “Take a candle, light it, and let it burn until some melted wax builds up. Blow out the flame, then set the candle on its side on some waxed paper, allowing the melted wax to drip into a puddle. Wait for it to harden, then remove the waxed paper. Now you can place the candle “mess” on something valuable–like your wife’s favorite coffee table!” HA HA HA HONEY I RUINED YOUR FAVORITE COFFEE TABLE! Who has a “favorite” coffee table? I mean, seriously? That implies you have multiple coffee tables and have chosen the favorite one. Also, this is kind of sexist. Because wives often have favorite pieces of furniture. HA HA. Gag.
  • “Offer to make a sandwich for the victim. But don’t remove the wrapper from the slice of cheese. When they bite down they’ll get a chewy surprise.” Hey, Charlie, here’s a sandwich, yum, HA HA APRIL FOOLS’! Charlie? Charlie? Are you choking? Charlie? Do you need me to do the Heimlich? CHARLIE ARE YOU OK? (I actually pranked myself with this one a while back. It was the grossest thing, and I almost threw up because paper and teeth made such a weird noise in my head. Gack, thinking about it makes me shudder all over again.)

    Wasn't that a super-good joke, Charlie? Ha ha! CHARLIE!

    Wasn’t that a super-good joke, Charlie? Ha ha! CHARLIE!

  • “Replace the lotion in your victim’s lotion bottle with mayonnaise.” WHAT THE HELL. OK, this is wrong on a lot of levels. A., I know some people who hate mayo more than anything in the world. This would make them so disgusted they would never talk to me again. B., this would mean you have to take a shower, because now you’re covered in disgusting greasy mayo, which has EGGS in it, and is only good on SANDWICHES. And C., did you just throw away someone’s LOTION? Why are you so wasteful?

Then I found this site on Parade. That means a bunch of people got this in their Sunday papers today. DO NOT DO THESE, people who got this in their Sunday paper today. Just because it’s in the paper doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.

  • “This one’s for diabolical parents: When the kids are sound asleep, switch them to each other’s beds. Just make sure you’re there to see their reactions when they wake up!” HA HA! What kind of kids sleep through being moved to another bed? Also, if I was a kid, and I woke up in my brother’s stupid bed, I would not be all “APRIL FOOLS’!” I’d be all “This bed smells gross and why did you touch me while I was sleeping? Is this what bad touch means?”
  • “Replace the cream filling of Oreos with toothpaste, then invite your target for a snack.” Here, Charlie, sorry about the sandwich thing, have some dessert. HA HA APRIL FOOLS’, CHARLIE! Oh, shit, Charlie, are you choking again? Is it because you just ate a whole mouthful of toothpaste when you were expecting delicious creme? CHARLIE ARE YOU OK? What do you mean, you don’t want to be my friend anymore. APRIL FOOLS’ PRANKS ARE FUN, CHARLIE!
  • “Sprinkle grape Kool-Aid mix inside the showerhead to turn the water—and your victim’s skin—purple.” HA HA YOU LOOK LIKE A GRAPE! Oh, it’s not coming off? Even with multiple showerings? And you can’t go to work and now you got fired and you can’t pay your rent and you’re homeless and living under a bridge sharing your cardboard box with a hobo named Toothless Joe? Sorry, dude, it was really a good prank, though. The newspaper said so.

    HEE HEE! Good one*! (*Not at all a good one)

    HEE HEE! Good one*! (*Not at all a good one)

  • “Place mini marshmallows on top of the ceiling fan’s blades, then ask someone to turn it on.” Um. Why is this even funny? Your living room is now covered in mini-marshmallows. Yay? Ha?
  • “Fill soap dispensers around the house with pancake syrup.” Yes. Yes, when I wash my hands, I’d love if my soap was a sticky mess. Good. Also, why are you wasting syrup? It’s super-expensive, if you buy the real stuff.
  • “Spread a layer of cream cheese over your target’s deodorant.” WHY ARE YOU MAKING PEOPLE COVER THEIR BODIES IN FOOD. Is this 9 1/2 Weeks? No? It’s DISGUSTING, is what it is. And it’s going to make people late for work.
  • “Dip the ends of your officemate’s pens in clear nail polish.” A., I’m in charge of buying/replacing office supplies, so this wouldn’t be so much “funny” as it would be “Amy, my pens stopped working, can I have some new ones?” all day long, so, no. And B., I read “pens” as “penis” and therefore, the sentence was SUPER-FUNNY to me, and a lot more naughty. And also I was wondering what kind of relationship you have with your coworkers.

OK. Now that we have read all of these super-good ideas, what have we learned, my little pranksters?

THAT APRIL FOOLS’ PRANKS AREN’T FUNNY.

Don’t do these things. Don’t even do them. Except maybe the penis thing. The penis thing is kind of funny. Mainly because I read it wrong.

Happy April Fools’ Day, my sweetest spring flowerbuds. Watch out for pranksters today. I give you permission to stab them with letter openers if you must. Just try not to get caught. Blame it on that one weird guy in IT, if you have to do stabbery. You are WELCOME.

About these ads

44 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , , | posted in advice, analysis, holidays, Humor

February 14, 2013

A very romantic love story, circa high school, for your Valentine’s Day pleasure

By lucysfootball

What? Oh, look, good, here, it’s Valentine’s Day, my favorite.

I have ONE cat, but still have apparently called it quits, thank you, skinny blonde lady with aggressively striped hair.

Here is my one and only Valentine’s Day story.

When I was fifteen, I was dating a very short boy who we will call David. We will call him that because it was his name and because I dislike him enough I don’t care if we use his real name.

Very Short David was my first boyfriend. So since it was the 90s, I of course listened to a lot of Debbie Gibson’s “Lost in Your Eyes” and thought about our future children. That second part wasn’t because it was the 90s, but because I used to be super-optimistic. And of COURSE you marry your first Very Short Boyfriend.

No, it wasn't this bad. But it had to be at least 5 inches difference. In high school, that's different enough, yo.

No, it wasn’t this bad. But it had to be at least 5 inches difference. In high school, that’s different enough, yo.

Very Short David also did not know how to kiss, and thought it just meant you put your mouth on the other person’s mouth and left it there without moving for very long stretches of time. VERY long stretches of time. Like, sometimes you peeked at your watch wondering what television shows you might be missing. Also, a thing that crossed your mind was, “people in movies and on TV shows seem to move their mouths more when they are kissing. I feel like we’re not doing this correctly.”

Very Short David and I started dating in October. So we totally got to date through my birthday, his birthday, and Christmas, which was VERY exciting and we got to give each other PRESENTS. If I remember correctly, I gave him thoughtful things like a baseball signed by some sort of important baseball person and he gave me a very pretty necklace so I was all “ZOMG VERY SHORT DAVID!” and he said, “Meh, my mom bought that and wrapped it and wrote your name on it, whatever” and I was all “VERY SHORT DAVID YOU ARE THE MOST ROMANTIC EVAH!”

As Valentine’s Day approached, I was very pleased. Because there was this foolish flower charity thingy that happened at school and I just KNEW that Very Short David would get me flowers and get them delivered to my homeroom and KA-CHOW I would finally be one of those girls. THE KIND THAT GOT FLOWERS ON VALENTINE’S DAY IN HOMEROOM. What kind of flowers? Poorly dyed carnations, of course, we were in high school, it’s not like we could afford hothouse blooms, sheesh.

I’m sure I bought Very Short David something but I don’t remember what it was. I’m very thoughtful, yo. Always was. Always will be.

So it was like two days before Valentine’s Day and I was SO EXCITED and also VERY ANTSY and all suffused with love and also the promise of ALL THE ROMANCE ALL OF IT.

And Very Short David ignored me all day at school, and I was all, “wha?” because that was not the way we rolled. We passed very romantic notes that said things like “TTYL” and “I like your jelly bracelets today.” (I made that last one up, I have no idea what our notes said. Also, I think I stopped wearing jelly bracelets in like 8th grade, don’t be foolish.)

SO STYLISH!!!

SO STYLISH!!!

So my friend who we will call Shari (that really isn’t her name, not because I care about her, but because last I knew she was super-mad at me for something that I don’t really understand and she seems sue-happy so I don’t think it’s in my best interest to use her real name, which is very distinctive) called him on the PAY PHONE in the LOBBY of the SCHOOL (because we were all about the technology back then, don’t even say we weren’t) and Very Short David said, “Oh, tell her I broke up with her, I’m in love with M. now.”

(M. gets the typical initial because she is still a friend of mine and I care about her a great deal.)

M. was my beautiful, outgoing, cheerleader friend. No, I don’t know why she was friends with young-Amy, either. (She’s still beautiful now. She also barely looks like she’s aged. She’s a miracle of genetics, that M. And I don’t even hate her. She’s lovely.)

“Um…what?” I said. Very Short David said goodbye to Shari and hung up. (In a surprising twist, Very Short David and Shari dated senior year. She was all, “will you hate me if I date him?” and I was like, “I honestly do not care what you do” and apparently this is not what you say to someone who thinks she is your best friend but who you didn’t really like all that much because you were kind of broken inside and didn’t really know how to have friendships.)

I cried and cried and went home and listened to a LOT of Debbie Gibson and cried and cried some MORE and then M. called and said, “I just want you to know that I’m totally not even INTERESTED in Very Short David, what is WRONG with him” so that helped a little (and she totally wasn’t, he asked her out the VERY NEXT DAY and she so laughed in his face and I will always love her for that.)

Needless to say, I never got those Valentine’s Day flowers. Also, Very Short David is on my shitlist. And remains there. (Also, Very Short David, after we broke up, told everyone who would listen that I “totally put out” and everyone knew I was a total dork who would not do that so he just got laughed at for attempting that charade. Therefore, he became Very Assholey David, and I still wish him ill. Yes. Still. Shut up, my insane loyalty has a flip side which is the inability to forgive if someone grievously wounds me.)

And yes, this is my one-and-only Valentine’s Day story, as never again was I dating anyone even ADJACENT to Valentine’s Day.

Do I hate a day that’s all dedicated to love and such? Aw. No. Of course not. Does it kind of make me equal parts sad and annoyed? Yes. Yes it does. Yet I am intelligent enough to realize that is stupid.

So happy Valentine’s Day, everyone. And if today is a sucktastic day for you, remember: tomorrow, the Valentine’s Day chocolate goes 50% off at the stores, yo.

50% off!!!!!

50% off!!!!!

Also, Very Short and Very Assholey David: I hope you are bitten by a bitey snake with sharp teeth. Or fall in a hole. Either way’s cool with me.

(Also, since this is the day of love: dear my loved ones, I love you so much it makes my whole heart ache with it. Thank you for…well, everything. I would be nowhere and nothing without you. You are better than all the poorly-dyed carnations delivered to me in homeroom in the whole world. I wouldn’t give you up for anything.)

Also, I found this on the interwebs; I think it is for me. Yay!

It's a little creepy, but we take what we can get, right? Right.

It’s a little creepy, but we take what we can get, right? Right.

26 comments | posted in high school, holidays, love, romance

January 22, 2013

I Thought It Would Be Funny: A Day of Adventure With The Nephew

By lucysfootball

I have actual real things to blog about. Real topics. I KNOW SHOCKING. Like, I have them all saved with notes and such. But my brain’s all scattery and I have a million other things bopping around in it so I can’t actually force myself to sit down and concentrate on them.

It’s a day off today for me, which is so nice, I can’t even tell you. Yesterday? I TOOK A NAP. I haven’t taken a nap, other than when I’ve been sick, in probably years. Because when I take a nap, it throws off my sleep schedule. But I didn’t have to get to bed overly early last night, and I was sleepy in the afternoon (even though I totally slept well the night before) and I thought, you know what? I’m going to take a decadent little siesta. And I DID. And it was GLORIOUS. And I still slept last night, too. And had trouble waking up when the alarm went off this morning. So apparently, this long weekend was for sleeping. All the sleeping. Every last bit of it. And it’s been GRAND. I only wish I could bank all that sleep for the days I’m not getting enough.

Aw, look, a little sleep bank. I like that.

Aw, look, a little sleep bank. I like that.

I also finally took down the Christmas decorations (yes, I’m aware Christmas was almost a month ago, I hadn’t gotten around to it yet) and cleaned up the house a little and wrote and watched television and paid bills and petted Dumbcat and baked cookies and talked to my parents and did all good things. It was a very productive day.

And TODAY, I woke up to an email with the best news EVER EVER, which I can’t go into detail about yet, but will as soon as I can (it’s good, it’s SO SO GOOD) and also in fifteen minutes I’m taking off to spend a few hours with The Nephew in his new house. I can’t wait to see him. The cookies referred to above were for him, by the way. I can’t bring him gifts EVERY time I see him, that’d be absurd, right? So in lieu of gifts, I’m bringing him and his mom some homemade chocolate-chip cookies. Not JUST cookies, but my SPECIAL chocolate-chip cookies, which are the best recipe I’ve ever tried and they’re utterly delicious. I think he’ll approve. (I mean, the kid loves his desserts. His face gets all excited when there are desserts involved. Apparently, the last time he was at my parents’ house, he opened the fridge and stuck his finger in a cherry pie “just to see what it tasted like.” Hee!)

So my house smells like baking right now. I’m pretty sure if a man were to come over here, I could woo ‘em with the scent alone. Just saying.

And I have another busy week coming up – dinner with friends Wednesday, theater stuff Friday, work Tuesday-Saturday. Plus I really need to start reading those one-acts for the play festival we have in July. It is my job, after all. Sigh. Those aren’t going to be a fun read. They never are.

Also, for no apparent reason, my apartment is like a fridge right now, even though the heater keeps going off. So that’s perplexing. WARM UP, APARTMENT. I AM CHILLY. Like, I’m seriously thinking of purchasing a Snuggie.

ZOMG, look at all the uses. SO MANY USES!

ZOMG, look at all the uses. SO MANY USES!

Now, time has passed since I started this. I know, it’s like the magic of blogging, right? I am home from my adventure with The Nephew. And it was TOTALLY an adventure. Listen, even if things aren’t an adventure, I make them so. That’s the way I am.

So first, I’d never been to either The Nephew’s new house, or the town he currently resides in. So it was GPS time. I popped in the address. All was well! All was good! I got in the car! Yay, yay! I put on loud, cheerful music! Ba-BAM! Ready to go! The town is about half an hour away, so here we go!

About five minutes into the drive I realized something was terribly wrong. TomTom was giving me the silent treatment.

This is the face TomTom would have been making. Had TomTom a face. Which it doesn't. Because it is a machine, sheesh.

This is the face TomTom would have been making. Had TomTom a face. Which it doesn’t. Because it is a machine, sheesh.

I didn’t have it on mute. I had the volume turned all the way up. Everything else was working perfectly. TomTom was just not telling me where to turn. So I could SEE where to turn, but the whole point of TomTom is that you don’t have to take your eyes off the road much. You can mostly listen to it, and every once and a while when it gets confusing, you peek over briefly. Well, I had to peek over ALL THE TIME once I got off the highway, because the rest of the trip was all small roads and traffic circles and such, and TomTom was all “we’re playing the game of who can stay silent the longest” and THAT was disconcerting.

So I finally got there – while beseeching TomTom to please talk to me, what’d I do, baby, please talk to me, don’t do this, you’re only hurting YOURSELF, TomTom, I can’t lose you, DON’T DO THIS TO US, TOMTOM, think of the good times, don’t give up on us, baby! – and there was the house! And I knocked and no one came to the door and I was all, “Oh, well, this is bad, maybe it’s all a dream” but then K. came to the door because The Nephew had been in the bathroom.

AND THEN THERE WAS THE NEPHEW!

He ran into the hallway all happy-faced and big-eyed and said “Aunt Amy Aunt Amy HELLO!” and LAUNCHED himself up into my arms for a big hug and I picked him up and gave him that big hug and he said “I want to show you my room!” and I said, “I want to SEE your room!” and he said, “OK! Let’s go!”

So he gave me a kiddo-tour of his new place. “This is my KITCHEN! This is my LIVING ROOM! This is the BATHROOM! Where you PEE! This is MOMMY’S room! THIS IS MY ROOM! That is the basement, sometimes you have to go down those steps.” He gave that door a very mistrustful look. Can’t say as I blame him. Basements are a frightening affair.

I don't trust you, basement.

I don’t trust you, basement.

“Do you want to play with me?” he said. When your beloved nephew asks you such a thing, the answer is always yes. No other answer will do.

So we played with Thomas the Tank Engine trains, and some Toy Story 3 dolls (Lotso Bear was the badguy, and Buzz Lightyear and one of those little “the CLAW!” aliens were the good guys) and a wrestling playset that had a spinny circle in the middle that launched the wrestlers into the bouncy elastic side of the ring, and that made him laugh and laugh (there was a monster on the side of the ring, and he was very careful to tell me, “this isn’t a real monster, though. It’s just a TOY monster.” I get the feeling someone had to tell him that once or twice.) We also played with some Matchbox cars. Mostly this involved him driving them off the dresser and me catching them as they crashed. “Do they like crashing like that?” I said. “YES! They LOVE it!” he enthused. OK, then, well, it must be true. He also showed me his books (“You could read ALL of these to me!” he said) and his bed (“I sleep there!”) and his Wii (“You can’t bang on this, or it breaks, right, Mommy?”) and he kept running from room to room like a little Tasmanian Devil so I got dizzy. I think parenting might be exhausting. Why didn’t you people warn me parenting is exhausting? Kids don’t sit still very often, is what I learn whenever I see The Nephew. They are always go-go-going.

Lotso is TOTALLY a bad guy. The Nephew and I are in agreement on this one. "He put them in the FIRE!" The Nephew said, in a scowly way.

Lotso is TOTALLY a bad guy. The Nephew and I are in agreement on this one. “He put them in the FIRE!” The Nephew said, in a scowly way.

He also wanted me to participate in “Family Fun Night” which apparently entailed watching movies on Mommy’s bed. “But it’s day! Can we have Family Fun Night during the day?” I asked. “Yes we can!” he said. “Well, it’s like Family Fun Night has no rules!” I told him. He thought about this very seriously. “No, there are rules,” he said. “No hitting, no biting, no lying, and…um…no hitting.” “Those are very good rules, The Nephew,” I said. “I try to live by those rules every day, myself.”

(I didn’t tell him I’m not always successful. He’ll learn that soon enough, why burst his bubble now?)

Then he had one of the cookies I made. “These are EXCELLENT,” he told me. Hee! Excellent. Nice. Also he had some lunch, but mostly he didn’t want that lunch. He doesn’t like eating very much. So instead of eating, he dripped soup all over and put his sandwich in the soup and dripped THAT all over and nibbled his sandwich and apple like a baby bird.

Then he did a thing which made me realize for the billionth time I would be a terrible mother.

He, for no real reason, tore off a piece of sandwich and dropped it in his chocolate milk. Then he tried to retrieve it, but he couldn’t because it was too deep in the cup.

“Well, I can’t drink my milk now!” he announced.

“You shouldn’t have put sandwich in there. Do you want some water?” his mother said.

This was not the answer he wanted. I think he wanted her to replace it with a whole new cup of milk. He got the dangerous pouty lower lip.

“No. Maybe I could get it out with my fingers?” he said, tearfully and doubtfully.

“No, you already tried that. You know that doesn’t work. You could drink the milk with the sandwich in there. It’s ok,” his mom said.

This brought on a full-on toddler tearstorm. “NO I CANNOT!” he wailed.

“Well, The Son, why did you put your sandwich in your cup in the first place?” she asked. K. is a very good mom. She is the most patient. I was standing there trying not to giggle. Because he was SO SAD about that piece of sandwich in his milk. Good gracious.

SO SAD!!! *not The Nephew; dramatic re-enactment only

SO SAD!!! *not The Nephew; dramatic re-enactment only

“I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FU-HU-HU-NEEEE!” he sobbed.

That’s when I totally lost it and had to turn away so he didn’t see his beloved aunt cracking up. He put a piece of sandwich in his milk because it had comedy potential; the joke backfired, and now he was left with chocolate milk that tasted of grilled cheese sandwich. ZOMG LIFE WAS SO HARD. Also, this seems an apt analogy for a lot of things I do in my life. I’ve had a lot of things backfire that I did because I thought they would be fu-hu-hu-neee.

K., with a totally straight face (I think if you’re a mom you have to probably practice keeping a poker face in the mirror, or something) said “What if I fished that out with a spoon?”

His tears IMMEDIATELY stopped. “I want to do it.”

“If you eat two bites of your sandwich, I’ll let you do it,” she said. TRICKY! And SMART!

He promptly ate two sandwich-bites and then fished the offensive sandwich-piece out of his cup and drained the rest of his chocolate milk. SUCCESS AND VICTORY FOR THE LITTLE GUY!

He also started punching his mom really hard in the leg. “I thought there was no hitting?” I said. “This is not HITTING,” he said. “This is MARKING. It’s like TAPPING but HARDER.” Then he did it a few more times. It sincerely looked like hitting to me. “Marking marking MARKING!” he said gleefully. “I think it’s time for a new rule,” his mom said, with painful-face. “No hitting, biting, lying, or marking.” The Nephew made a VERY sad face at this news. “It is just HARD TAPPING!” he wailed. Aw, kiddo. I think you might be a lawyer someday. You really have a very good answer for everything.

Then it was naptime and time for Aunt Amy to morph back into her alter-ego, “just plain old Amy” and go home.

I got one more launched-from-across-the-room hug and sandwichy kiss and I told him I loved him and I would see him soon. “OK!” he said gleefully. Aw, buddy. In the grand scheme of things and people, I love you more than anyone. Shh, don’t tell everyone else, they’ll get a complex. I also gave K. a hug, don’t even think I didn’t.

Then I got back in the car and guess what? TomTom apparently got over his snit and was talking to me again. What the hell? THAT was weird. When did my TomTom become like a passive-aggressive teen boyfriend?

And now I am back in my strangely freezing apartment and Dumbcat is keeping my legs warm because it’s like a fridge in here still. VERY MYSTERIOUS.

There was my Monday in a nutshell. A very large and long and probably rambly nutshell. Thanks for the day off, new job, you’re the best.

Hope you all had lovely long weekends! Real posts with real content soon. I hope. I think. We’ll see. I have topics and everything. I promise! Really! Would I lie to you? I can NOT lie to you. That would be breaking the rules of Family Fun Night, you see. That’s a total no-no.

34 comments | posted in adventure, cars, driving, family, holidays, love, nephew, technology

December 31, 2012

Last year’s words belong to last year’s language

By lucysfootball

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.”
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

New Year’s Eve always makes me all reflective. Like those strips on your running shoes so cars don’t hit you in the dark.

Super-reflective and artsy as shit.

Super-reflective and artsy as shit.

Tomorrow is for looking forward; today is for looking back.

2012. What can we say about 2012?

2012 was a roller coaster of a year. And listen, it is a fact about old Lucy’s Football that she HATES roller coasters. They make your stomach hurt, they bounce your head all around, they dig your earrings into your neck and they make you dizzy. I’d rather walk through the animal barn at the fair or something, that’s less distressing and sometimes you get to pet some sheep with their warm fleecy wool and soft noses.

Aw, sheepers! *pet*

Aw, sheepers! *pet*

There were good things this year and there were bad things this year and I’m still not sure if I consider it a win or a loss, to be honest. I’d like to say it’s a wash, but I don’t know if that’s the case, even.

But let’s not make this TOO depressing right out of the gate, right? I mean, do you come here for total depressing navel-gazing? What’s that? Sometimes you do? FINE, never let it be said I don’t deliver.

Let’s go through the highs and lows of 2012, yeah? It’s the day for it if there ever was a day. Tomorrow we can optimistically opine about 2013 but today we can look back on the year that was.

Fired. There is really nothing like being called into a conference room with your boss and the HR rep and to be told you are not only being fired, you need to be out immediately. And then being escorted to the door because you’ve possibly become a scary liability who might cause some sort of scene. In this economy, it is one of the most frightening things ever. Especially when you totally kind of brought it upon yourself because the reason you were fired was ostensibly for too much internet usage and also blogging at work even though you kind of weren’t REALLY blogging at work, only writing the drafts there and setting them to publish during work hours once you got home at night, and the only reason you were using the internet at work at all was because there was very seldom enough for you to do and the days stretched out looooong in front of you.

However, when you hated the job – and I mean hated, hated, HATED, to the point you had to pep-talk yourself into going in every morning and not sit in the car weeping, you kind of think, huh, maybe this isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened, on some level. Then the unemployment stretches for about four and a half months, and you spend a month of it sitting on the couch so depressed you can’t take a full breath or move and all you want to do is sleep, and the remaining three and a half months working 50-60 hours weeks just to pay the bills…well, you get tired. July to December was a very long stretch, and a good third of my year. It’s hard to look back on 2012 without thinking of it as the year I lost a third of it to working too hard and being technically unemployed and worrying. Constantly. From the minute I woke up to the minute I fell asleep.

It’s not all bad, though. If I hadn’t had that part-time job that became full-time when I needed it to, I would have been living in my car, or back home with my parents. I was lucky to have it. It saved my life and sanity.

Hired (x2). But for every bad, there’s a good. Finally, after months and months of worry and work and toil and trouble, I was lucky enough to find not only a full-time job, but a wonderful full-time job, with people I love, doing something I enjoy, at a location I really like, getting paid enough money to not only live on, but live on comfortably. I pinch myself daily. I’ll never think I deserve nice things, and when they happen, I always wait for the other shoe to drop. I still wait. I have one ear out for that other shoe at all times. I feel like it’s going to be a very loud, very clunky platform sandal of some sort.

Or a big ol' loafer.

Or a big ol’ loafer.

Not only did the amazing job come through (thanks to theater friends) but ANOTHER job came through thanks to theater friends and I now can say I write for the paper. And I get to see plays for free, and review them, and people can read what I’ve written, and how much that actually influences people, I don’t know, but it’s what I do that I love more than anything else. When you have a job that doesn’t at all seem like work…well, you might be the luckiest person alive. It’s what we all want, isn’t it? It’s what I always dreamed of for myself, a job that I loved, that I’d do even if they didn’t pay me. And I have one now, even if it’s very much part-time.

Friends. Any recap of 2012 would not be complete without mentioning the friends that have walked through it by my side. I’ve made friends this year (one of whom is, I’m quite sure, my sister separated at birth – sj, my love, what would I do without you? I can’t even imagine) and become closer than I ever thought possible to others (Andreas, my beloved Science Fellow from the land of the Finns, you are a blessing I will never stop being thankful for), both near and far. I know some of the best people in the world, both that I’ve met with my face and that I’ve yet to meet but talk to on a daily basis. I’ll never stop being grateful for this; I’ll never stop being a little tearful when I think of how lucky I am.

I have also lost friends this year. It’s the way of the world, I think. Life’s constantly changing; things happen, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the…well, not-better. People change. You change. Whether you want this to happen or not. Sometimes you can fight this; sometimes you can win. Sometimes it’s beyond your control and you lose, or you’re just so tired of fighting the inevitable you just give up. Sometimes the loss is a good thing. Sometimes the loss leaves you unable to breathe and with a heart so filled with sorrow and regret and memories that sneak-attack you when you least expect it that you don’t know how you’re going to pick yourself up from it because you never imagined a life without that person in it. But you do, of course. Pick yourself up from it. Of course you do. Life goes on. It’s what life does, right? No matter how shattered you are inside, life just keeps on truckin’. And every day things hurt a little less, until the most hurtful thing that’s left is how something that once mattered so much is now no more than a distant ghostly memory.

Sometimes being an adult is all eating chocolate for dinner and staying up past your bedtime and sometimes it’s the deepest sadness you can imagine. We don’t tell our children this when they’re little. Otherwise they wouldn’t want to grow up, now would they?

Book. For all of the other things it was, 2012 was the year I finally had a book I’d written published. It is possibly my proudest moment of not only the year, but of my entire life. Holding a book in my hands I’d written…hearing from people who’d read it, talking to them about words I’d written and labored over and worried about and lived…seeing reviews of it go up, seeing it hit number one in the Kindle store, even if for a very brief period of time…absolutely amazing. All of it. I’ll never get over that as long as I live. Thank you to all of you who bought it and told people about it and geeked out with me about it. You helped make a dream come true. Someday maybe I’ll do it again, who knows? Life’s a funny place, really. You never can tell what will happen.

That’s one big apple. It wasn’t a year of much bon vivantery, but the teeny amount I got to do was awesomeness. I got to go to my favorite city in the world and meet one of my favorite PEOPLE in the world, my wonderful Susie. And we had a day of adventure and walking and talking and shopping and eating and so many things. Say what you will about the interwebs, but if you do it correctly, you can meet the best people the world has to offer. My Susie is one of those people, and meeting her in person just proved that. Love you, Susie!

Blog. What would a year-in-review be without talking about what takes up a majority of my free time, this here thingamabobber? The day in 2011 when I decided, “what the hell, let’s start a blog, Ms. Amy, what have we got to lose, really?” will live in infamy as the day a very silly off-the-cuff decision led to rewards beyond imagining. Without the blog, where would all these words in my head go? Without the blog, how would I have met all you wonderful people? Without the blog, how would I be this person I am now? The answer to all of those questions is a big old, “I don’t know.” A lot can live in an “I don’t know.” A lot of emptiness and sadness. I love it here. I love what we’ve all built. I love every bit of this. Thank you all for being part of this. Without you, it’d be a lot less fun, now wouldn’t it?

Half an hour trumps three and a half hours. As of two days ago, The Nephew and his mom have officially moved half an hour away. Half an hour is much better than three and a half hours, visiting-my-favorite-person-in-the-world-wise. I’ll be polite. I’ll give them some time to settle. Then I’m going to show up like the magi bearing gifts and I’m going to read him books and play with him on the floor and giggle with him and tell him stories and big words that thrill him and I will be happier than all the things in all the land.

So if we weigh the good and the bad…well, I guess the year was a wash, all-told. But not the awesome kind of Wash like on Firefly.

More than ready for my 2013. Big plans for you, year. BIG OLD PLANS. Starting with a whole day off tomorrow in which I will do whatever the hell I want.

Hope you all had the best 2012s known to man, and that your 2013s are amazing wonderful sparkly affairs full of wonder, mystery and magic. It’s all I want for you, really. It’s not too much to ask, right? Right.

28 comments | posted in analysis, best-of, blogs, friends, history, holidays, Internet, Jobs, memories, nephew, real life, thoughts, work, writing

December 26, 2012

All the Who girls and boys would wake up bright and early. They’d rush for their toys!

By lucysfootball

Well, here it is, the day after Christmas. For some of you, this is the first day of Kwanzaa, so happy happy Kwanzaa. For some others, it is Boxing Day, so happiest of all days of boxing to YOU. For me it is back to work day, and then directly after work I have a theater meeting so we can talk about plays, and then it is time to come home and eat and go to sleep. Sleeping, incidentally, has not been the easiest, because of the coughing. Because if you sleep on one side your lungs start blurbling and you cough, so you roll over and then it happens all OVER again, and listen, you even try sleeping sitting up on the couch but your body laughs at you for that folly. It is a true story. Also, what kind of “cough suppressant” is in Nyquil and Dayquil, anyway? It is TERRIBLE and it DOES NOT WORK.

Anyway, so when I woke up from my…oh, I don’t know, four or five hours of sleep that I managed to get because of the demon-coughing on Christmas Day (and also I stayed up late because I could, and because it wasn’t like I was going to sleep anyway, and because sj and I were listening to music together online, and how much fun is THAT? a LOT, is how much), I thought, I COULD try to fall back to sleep, or I could GO OPEN PRESENTS. Also check my email. Which is like a present I get daily, let’s be honest. And it was, I totally had some of the best email ever, but that’s neither here nor there. IT IS CHRISTMASSSSSSS.

So I went into the living room and I had a phone message. (Shush, I still have a landline, I’m like a old-school person.) It was Dad! “Why aren’t you awake. Ho ho ho. It is Christmas. WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING. You have PRESENTS to open. Ho ho ho. ARE YOU STILL ASLEEP?” It was like 8:45am, by the way. (When we were kids, we used to wake our parents up at ungodly hours to open gifts. When we got older, he was sad when that stopped happening, so he used to stomp. My brother and I were woken on Christmas morning at like 6am by the melodious tones of my father harrumphing and STOMPING LOUDLY ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR. And we’d mutter and drag ourselves downstairs and he’d be all, “Oh! Well! There you are! You’re finally awake! I wonder how you both happened to wake up at the same time like this? This is truly a Christmas miracle. LET’S OPEN PRESENTS NOW!”) I didn’t hear the phone because it’s in the living room and I sleep with a fan on that’s as loud as a jet engine. On purpose. Because sometimes the cat is very bumblesome at 3am and I wake up easily if I hear things.

So I called him back and he was all sad that he’d potentially woken me up. “I didn’t even think, this is like your only morning to sleep in, but I was SO EXCITED IT WAS CHRISTMAS,” poor sad Santa Dad said. I assured him he did not wake me up and that his phone call was like the equivalent of him stomping to wake us up and he liked that a lot. Poor Dad, no kids at home for Christmas. My brother was at HIS house and I was at MINE and my mom was drinking some coffee or something, I don’t know.

So we talked for a little while and then it was PRESENT time. Dad thought I should take all day to open the presents. He recommended opening a present every 18 minutes. He made up that number. 18. I’d suggested every twenty minutes but apparently that was too round of a number for him so he decided 18 minutes. However, when presented (heh, no pun intended) with that pile of presents I just couldn’t be that patient. PRESENTS FOR ME! And also one for Dumbcat. But also me!!!!

I probably should have taken more photos but a., I was really tired, and b., I was kind of opening these in a frenzy, yo.

First, there was a stocking. I knew it was a stocking because it was a box with “THIS IS A STOCKING” written on it. And covered in tape. I didn’t get my tendency to use too much tape on things from the neighbors, people.

In the stocking we had a variety of things. Ironically, in the stocking there were stockings. HA HA GET IT? (I asked for pantyhose. I need to wear more skirts in my life. I have a lot of them, why the hell am I not wearing them? I also need to buy some tights. Where would a person get kicky tights, I wonder?)

Also, there was…

A calculator! I know, probably you think that’s dumb. But I’m excited because for some reason I have trouble using the ones online and I like to balance my checkbook. Like an old person, shush.

Salad tongs! SO I CAN PICK UP GROSS THINGS WITHOUT USING MY HANDS! What? I’m supposed to use these for salad? Oh, shit, ok, well, whatever, fine.

The most euphemistic meat stick you’ve ever SEEN! (My mom always puts Slim Jim-style meat products in my stocking. Despite the fact I don’t like them. If I’m at home, when she’s not looking, I sneak ‘em to my Dad. This year, I guess I’ll wait til I see him again and give this to him then. What, it’s not like it’s going to go bad. The preservatives in this thing could keep it fresh forEVER.) I also find it humorous it has a weird-looking Bigfoot on the package. What kind of meat, exactly, is this made of?

Printer ink! Well, since I don’t have a printer…that makes me think…SPOILER ALERT I think I know what one of these presents might be.

Then I ripped into the presents like a Tasmanian Devil. A CHRISTMAS DEVIL.

I didn’t take photos of EVERYTHING. There was some soap and shower gel and towels and money and chocolate and a gift card for books and blank CDs and things I did not photograph because why would you take photos of EVERYTHING, come on.

There was a new cat tree for the Dumbcat, because he has shredded his to pieces. I put it together for him and you’d think he’d he all over it, but he hasn’t woken up yet today. I was covered up with a blanket last night, and left it on the couch when I went to bed. He has claimed that blanket as his own and has not moved from it all day. I have to situate my legs around him on the couch. He’s so cute. He’s just a ball of fur and purrs right now. You can’t even wake him up. You can pet him and he just purrs harder and continues to sleep. It’s the only way I know he’s not dead, honestly.

THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING, DUMBCAT!!!

THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING, DUMBCAT!!!

I did take photos of the MOST exciting things, though.

NEW SNEAKERS!!!!

OMG THEY ARE SO PRETTY.

They are silver and “berry” but really kind of purple and they are WONDERFUL and I LOVE them. I opened the box and I said “OOHHH!” and stared at them for the longest time. Now I am wearing them so I know they fit and so I can wear them to work if I want (we’re in dress-down mode at work until March, I can wear sneakers every day if I want to) and they are ADORABLE.

Well, in this photo I seem to have feet the size of America but who even cares LOOK AT MA PRETTEH NEW KICKS. Also my snowman socks. I only have a few more days to wear my holiday-themed socks, I’m wearing the hell out of them.

A new printer! YAY! I don’t have to print things at Staples anymore! (I suppose I could print them at work but I don’t like to be stealy.)

I kind of gave up on photos at this point. MY NEW VACCUUM! It’s sideways because I was too tired to pick up the box. Look how little! And it says “eureka!” so you KNOW it’s going to pick up all the cat hair, yo.

I saved BFFs presents for last.

First there was a gift set from LUSH. LUSH is a fancy-schmancy bath and body place. I got THIS one:

It has soap and bath bars and lotion and shower gel and it smells AMAZING in here right now, just from the BOX. Also, the box is glittery and gold and beautiful.

Then there was HIS present, with a card with our SECRET NAME on it (shh) and inside there was one present that’s an inside joke and also touching, so I’m not telling you that one, and the aforementioned gift card for books, and THIS PILLOW ZOMG. I cried and laughed and then cried some more. SO EFFING ADORABLE.

BEBEH PENGUIN YOU GUYS! It is ADORABLE! It now lives on my couch so I can see it every day and think of how much I love my BFF.

There was one last thing in the package. This thing…well, I talked to him today, and I said, “BFF, I think I have to make you a video of me trying this thing.”

BFF was enthused. He misses my face, as I ALSO miss HIS face.

So…without further ado…me. And my new thing. (I don’t have makeup on today, and also my hair…well, it’s got some weird unexpected body happening. Also I’m sick. As you can tell. Hack hack cough.)

Now I have to go make a little ham and some broccoli because I promised my mom I would have some veggies today and some olives because I like to eat them from the can and also sometimes put them on my fingers and eat them off my fingers like I’m a child. Shush, you, it’s Christmas, I’m allowed.

It was a very good Christmas, all-told. And I hope you all had the Christmases you deserved, as well. Truly and truly.

Dumbcat wishes you a Merry Christmas as well. When he was sleeping I tied the ribbon from BFF’s gift around his neck. HE DID NOT EVEN CARE. He slept like this for a good hour before I felt guilty and took it off. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night, says Dumbcat.

ZZZZZ, and purr, says Dumbcat. ZZZZZ and purr. (I’ve had him for years and I think this is the first Christmas we’ve spent together, to be honest. I always go home. He’s probably just so happy I’m here. He probably thinks he’s in heaven. So he’s had the best Christmas ever, then. The best Christmas a Dumbcat has ever had.)

22 comments | posted in Cats, Christmas, gifts, holidays, photos

%d bloggers like this: