Thursday, September 26, 2013

When You Accuse a Stranger of Stalking You

Fleeting Thoughts After I Scared Away a Walgreens Customer

Thought #1

To remember things, I usually type them out as a text in my phone and save it to Drafts. After realizing I had over thirty drafts, I decided to go through them all and delete the ones I don't need anymore. This dually serves as a reminder of my mental retardation.

Draft 1

Reminder: Socks are in the sock drawer.

This is how messy I am. I actually have to alert myself if my socks are not where they're supposed to be.

Draft 2

$1.23 left

This is how broke I am. I have to remind myself to not buy anything over a dollar.

Draft 3

Check your drafts.

And this is how dumb I am.

Thought #2

Everyone keeps talking about Miley Cyrus and I'm just over here thinking...dude...but Cher.

Thought #3

I see a lot of the same faces at the coffee shop I frequent. I don't necessarily know these people, I just know that they are there as often as I am. For instance, the middle-aged guy who always has a Mexican Coca-Cola and a book. The only thing we know about each other is that we are both capable of nodding our heads in recognition. That mutual gesture of, Yes, you come here everyday and sit for hours just like I do. with the underlying denotation of, We have no lives.

So the other day, I was sitting across from Mexi-Coke-Man for about four hours, when it was time for me to go. I packed up my stuff, walked out the door, and walked to Walgreens. As soon as I entered, there he was, checking out at the cash register (how he beat me there that fast is a mystery). Letting the six large cups of coffee control my actions, I impulsively walked up to him and shouted:

"Are you stalking me?!"

I was joking, of course. But it didn't cross my mind that this guy doesn't know me at all, and may not know that I was kidding. It also didn't cross my mind that I don't know him at all, so I didn't know he would take me so seriously. While I had anticipated a laugh or smile, all he did was purse his lips and shake his head no. Then he walked away, leaving the cashier staring at me, probably wishing The Random Paranoid Girl would not scare away her customers.

...I haven't seen him since.

Thought #4

me: I'm Croatian.

friend 1: I'm Norwegian.

friend 2: I'm French-Algerian.

friend 3: I'm drunk.

...stay tuned for the next episode of "Bowling Night," also known as, "Getting Drunk on a Wednesday."

Thought #5

What Happens On My Days Off

(ring ring ring)

(or buzz buzz buzz? what kind of noises are phones making these days? we'll stick with 'ring' just to keep things simple.)

me: Hello?

sister: Hey, were you asleep?

me: Yeah, call me back in an hour or so.

(ring ring ring)

me: Hello?

sister: Sorry, were you still sleeping?

me: Yeah I'm getting up soon, though.

(ring ring ring)

me: Hello?

sister: Were you asleep?

me: Yeah, sorry.

sister: Dude. It's 4 o'clock.


Draft 4

Reminder: Get out of bed.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Cupid: Wal-Mart's #1 Customer

friend: Have you ever read "Missed Connections" on Craig's list?

me: Are you talking about the section with the anonymous posts of people writing about strangers they saw? The ones that thought they felt a romantic connection?

friend: Yeah! I mean, not that I read it...

me: Yeah, me neither...

friend: Never...

me: Yeah, psshh, totally never...

friend: Definitely not.

me: It shouldn't even be called "Missed Connections." It's not a "connection" if it's missed. It should really be called, "The Stalking Didn't End There" or just, "Missed Completely."

friend: Well apparently someone mentioned you on there.

me: What! What'd it say?!

friend: Well, I didn't see it. Riley told me about it. She said someone wrote about you. I think it was talking about a Vaudeville Cafe actress...or a girl in all black...I forgot.

me: But she thinks the guy was talking about me?

friend: Yeah, apparently.

me: I have to look this up as soon as I get home!

As Soon As I Get Home

I log onto the Chattanooga listings, and after scrolling through countless "You looked at me"s, "I looked at you"s, and "I looked at you looking at me"s, I found the title that my friend was probably referring to: Vaudeville Femme Fatale. m4w (I've recently learned that this means "male for woman." I've also learned that if I see m4t it does not mean any of my original guesses of "male for toddler," "milf for teenager," or "my fort." While Cookie Monster knows that is for Cookie, Craig knows that T is for Tranny.) 

There aren't that many female comedians where I work, so this had to be it. However, when I read the description, I was disappointed. The anonymous male was speaking of the woman who "played the airline stewardess" - which is a role I don't play. Defeated, I decided to stop searching - but not until I read just a few more for sheer entertainment. I'll do you a favor and save you the 30 minutes I spent researching what Wal-Marts Cupid seems to be frequenting lately. Instead, I'll give you this month's winning post.

We Had Pop Tarts, You Had a Gun - mw4w

You're hot. Your bike is hot. Your boots are hot.

We followed you for half an hour, and I had a plan. On a 1200 mile road trip and quick thinking was engaged. Blueberry muffin pop tarts and a felt tip pen to write my number on the package. We caught up to you at a light but I would have had to get out of the we followed you some more. Then we spotted the gun. This did not in fact discourage us from following you some more. We still wanted to give you the pop tarts. Who doesn't like pop tarts? We even had milk! But the gun did instill a bit of apprehension on our part, so when you made a left we did not in fact follow you. So, if you want to meet up sometime, and you promise not to shoot us, maybe we could get coffee and proper pastries, or have pop tarts and milk. Just reply with what we were driving and we'll go from there.

...there are way too many reactions I had to this, so I'll narrow it down and give you three.

1. "mw4w" - What? Is this a threesome thing? A swingers thing? A Muslim thing? Or is it just a Craig's list thing?

2. "Who doesn't like pop tarts?" - Anyone receiving them from a stalker. And Toaster Strudel.

3. "We even had milk!" - Who buys milk for a 1200 mile road trip?

On a positive note, at least they know the difference between "you're" and "your." Most people on the internet do not. On a negative note, why don't I ever get offered stuff like this? I've been Pop Tartless for years now. What's a girl gotta do for a Pop Tart these days?

After reading about The Pastry Pedophiles, I decided it couldn't get any better from there and I should go read something else. But just as I was about to log off the internet, something caught my eye...

black dress and red lipstick - m4w

I love seeing you in your black dresses and the prettiest red lipstick. I just wanna walk uo to you face to face. Grab your sexy waistand pull you close for a long soft kiss. Only in my dreams though. It could never happen to me. :'( I'm married to another.

...could it be? I know I'm not the first female to dress in all black and wear red lipstick, but as far as I know, I'm the only one in my city who is known to dress like that daily. I guess we'll never know. What I do know is that I'm not going to get any Pop Tarts from this. But that's what Craig's list is for.

I Don't Have Pop Tarts, Help - w4pt

You were in front of me at Wal-Mart today. I was staring at you, wishing I could rip off your top. I could tell you were cold, but I know how to make you hot. Give me two minutes, and I'll have you warm and moist on the inside. I was surrounded by other sweet things, but all I could focus on was you. You're fly like a B6, as beautiful as a flour. Wheat make a great couple. Iron many miles just to have you. I'll massage you with soybean oil, it'll feel niacin your thiamin. You make me feel high like fructose corn syrup. Just thinking of you makes my cholesterol rise. You're not like the others. You're so much s'more. They were all just limited editions. But're original. 

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

If Zombies Breastfed

This Morning's Conversation with My Cat

me: Okay. Enough, Leeloo. I'm trying to get dressed.

cat: Meow.

me: Yes, I know I'm still lying in bed, but that's because I've mastered the art of putting on pants without standing up. It's called 9am classes.

cat: Meow.


cat: Meow meow.

me: I'm serious, Leeloo. How would you feel if I straddled your face?

cat: Meow.

me: Oh, you wouldn't care, would you? Well of course you wouldn't care. BECAUSE YOU'D BE DEAD. My crotch would suffocate the life from your tiny head.

cat: Meow!

me: Oh my god you're such a typical male. I meant the tiny head on your NECK. Not your other tiny head.

cat: Meow, meow.

me: That's completely different. Moe's cat was allowed to sleep with him because she didn't shove her privates in his nostrils.

cat: Meow.

me: He did not let her lick his chest. All he said was that when she was a kitten, she used to try and get milk from his nipples.

cat: Meow.

me: I don't have milk there, Leeloo. And neither did Moe.

cat: Meow!

me: Ow! Great. Now you've scratched my nipple. And as you can see, the only thing that can comes out of there is blood. Not milk. Blood. 

cat: Meow.

me: STOP IT! The last thing I need is a mangled nipple! This is exactly why I don't sleep in the nude. Who knows what you do when I'm unconscious.

cat: Meow, meow.

me: You do what?

cat: Meow.

me: Is this why I woke up with soaking wet bangs the other night?

cat: Meow, meow.

me: What do you mean 'who knows?' WE'RE THE ONLY ONES HERE.

cat: Meow.

me: That's it. You're sleeping in the living room from now on. FUCK OFF.

cat: Meow...

me: I'm so sorry, Leeloo. I didn't mean that. I love you. Come here.

cat: Meow.

me: OUCH!

cat: Meow, meow.

me: Great. You've clawed them both. Now I look like some maternal zombie who's been breastfeeding.

cat: Meow meow meow.

me: No, you were not trying to help me scratch my mosquito bites. You know those mosquito bites are permanent.

cat: Meow meow meow.

me: No, you were not helping me look like an extra from The Walking Dead. Zombies don't even get pregnant on that show. Unless they changed it to The Walking Breastfed.

cat: Meow...

me: OKAY I KNOW IT WASN'T CLEVER BUT WHAT DO YOU EXPECT? It's hard to be witty when your cat just looked at your nipples and thought, "Milk on tap!"

cat: Meow.

me: I'm never changing clothes in front of you again.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Mr. Roger's Alter-Ego

I'm getting old. My friends just invited me to take shots with them at 3 in the afternoon, and I declined because I have a crossword puzzle to finish. So while they're getting drunk and having a grand time, I'm sitting here wondering what the fuck a four-letter Cajun vegetable could be. My mind keeps telling me 'corn' because that's the only vegetable I can think of right now that has four letters, but I know corn is not the answer. It's like when you're playing charades with a friend, and they guess, "THE LION KING!" and you shake your head no, and then they continue to yell, "LION KING, LION KING!" as if screaming it louder will make it the right answer. And all you wanna do is shout, "IT'S NOT THE FUCKING LION KING!" but you're not allowed to speak, so you just end up stomping your foot over and over again, throwing your hands in the air, and giving everyone the middle finger. 

Alright so it may not be like that at all. My point is: both situations are annoying. What's also annoying is those signs outside of restaurants that say, "Thank You For Not Smoking," when I'm sitting there smoking. What're you trying to say, Sign? Why don't you be a little less passive aggressive and just say, "Don't Smoke Here" instead of thanking me for something that I'm not even doing? I'm getting off topic. Thank You For Not Noticing.

I realized I was getting old when I walked up some stairs and tried to speak when I got to the top. It came out like this:


As you can see, nothing came out, because I couldn't breathe. This completely contradicts the fact that I had a bag of candy in one hand and a bottle of Jungle Juice in the other.

Wannabe Five-Year-Old Ages Twenty Years in One Staircase, Ate the Gummy Bears Regardless

I was trying to explain that I feel old to some of my friends, and they seemed to understand until I launched into an analogy of my situation.

me: I feel so old!

friends: Me too, man! It sucks!

me: It's like when you're in fourth grade, and you're peeing in the bathroom, and you see a Kindergartner peeking through the crack of the stall, watching you sitting on the toilet. And you think, Man, it's time for me to get out of elementary school.

friends: ...what?

me: You know! Six-year-olds watching you pee!

friends: Umm...

me: Ugh nevermind.

(It just hit me that I'm writing about getting old, yet I just paused to go read 'Finny Fun Facts You Didn't Know About The Little Mermaid.' We're going to disregard that.)

(BUT - did you know Sebastian was supposed to have a British accent? Sorry nevermind.)

I think what's mainly making me feel like I'm aging is the fact that I'm in my fifth year of college and that's a year later than I had planned. Freshman year was one thing. That's when everything was new and exciting and I did stupid, careless stuff like day drinking with all of my friends. One time we were all drunk, it was two in the afternoon, and we were sitting on the porch and laughing, when suddenly one of my friends leaps up and yells, "I HAVE AN EXAM IN FIVE MINUTES!"




"It's not funny! I have to go take a test!"

"Then go!"


"We know!"


"Hey, come back! You can't take that beer with you."


"Good luck on your exam hahahahahahaha!"

I can't even imagine doing that now. Laughing, I mean. (Just kidding. I mean day drinking. Obviously.)

But I'm 22 years old, and I'm still incredibly young, which really only means that I'm going to make the crankiest old person ever. I'm already getting there. I'm going to end my rant now, but before I do, I'll give you one example of how I'm becoming Mr. Roger's alter-ego, Ms....god damnit. Why does nothing rhyme with Roger that means "cranky?" It would have worked so well just then.

The other night I was waiting on my ride, and these freshman in front of me were having a conversation.

"Get in the car, Jim!"

"No, thanks. I think I'm gonna ride my bike."

"No, Jim, just get in the car. We're all riding over there together."

"Well...I kinda just wanna ride my bike..."

"Leave your bike here, Jim. We have room for you in the car!"

"Yeah but I was planning on riding my bike..."

"Jim, dude, just hop in the car and we ---"


...and then it hit me that I was the one who had just yelled this, without even planning on doing so. They all turned and stared at me, and I awkwardly waved, as if WAVING would make it all better that I just screamed at a bunch of 18-year-olds about a bicycle. I thought of going even further, like saying, "LOLZ!" and giving a thumbs-up sign, but instead I just kept waving. And then the guy goes, "Fine, Jim, ride your bike" and they drove off. 

Thank You For Waving Back.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Ask Him Where Baby Bop Is

Random Stories After My Cat Flashed Me

Story #1

me: Leeloo! Put that away!

cat: Meow.

me: No! That does not mean come over here. 

cat: Meow, meow.

me: Stop it! Take you and your little penis away from me!

cat: Meow.


cat: Meow, meow.

me: Go to the corner.

cat: Meow.


Story #2

I am being stalked by a homeless man in a purple V-neck.

If you're being stalked by a homeless man, you have three options. You either give him change, tell him you have none, or skip this whole charade and hand him a beer.

If you're being stalked by a man in a V-neck, you have two options. You either puncture his bicycle tires or tell him there's a huge sale on Fedoras down the street.

If you're being stalked by a man wearing purple, you have one option. You ask him where Baby Bop is.

But if you're being stalked by a homeless man in a purple V-neck, you have no options. No matter what you do, he will never. leave you. alone. I saw him four times in one day and since then, I see him everywhere, always asking me the same three things.

1. "Do you have a cigarette?"

2. "Are those bowling shoes?"

3. "Can you hear me?"

Story #3

Conversation I Overheard Today

guy 1: Hey, bro! Whachu been up to, man?!

guy 2: Livin the COLLEGE LIFE, bro!

guy 1: Same here, man! COLLEGE LIFE!

guys 1 and 2: COLLEEEEEEEEGE!


Story #4

Conversation I Had with the Indian Man Who Works at the Gas Station

man: Natashaaaaa...

me: Hey!

man: Natashaaaaa...

me: Hi...again.

man: My Natashaaaa...

me: ...

man: You are mine. My Natasha.

me: Ha...haha...

man: I wait for you all day. Finally you come. My Natashaaaaa...I like my Natasha.

...I think I need to start buying my Red Bull elsewhere.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

When My Cat Gets Freaky

Today's Conversation with My Cat

me: I'm trying to sleep, Leeloo. Please stop licking my face.

cat: (lick lick lick)

me: Okay, enough. I appreciate it, really, I do, but I can't sleep with you doing that.

cat: (lick lick lick)

me: OW! Not on the forehead! Your tongue is too scratchy for the thin skin up there!

cat: (lick lick lick)

me: No, don't go back to the cheek! You've been licking that for ten minutes!

cat: (lick lick lick)


cat: (lick lick lick)


cat: (lick lick lick)

me: Are you listening to a word I say?

cat: (lick lick lick)

me: You could at least lick something that would feel nice. Like my ear.

cat: (starts licking my ear)

me: Okay this is getting weird. 

cat: (licking my ear)

me: No, really. This is making me uneasy. Please stop licking my ear.

cat: (lick lick lick)


cat: (lick lick lick)

me: I need to get you a girlfriend.

cat: (lick lick lick)

me: That's right, lick your balls. Whatever makes you feel better.

cat: (lick lick lick)


cat: (lick lick lick)

me: I give up.