Sunday, February 19, 2012

Darth Vader is In My Room

There is a life-size cardboard cutout of Darth Vader on the wall in my bedroom. I'm not a foam-at-the-mouth Star Wars fan, I just found it in the back of my closet and figured, what the hell, the walls looked empty with nothing on them. Now, every time I walk through the doorway I think somebody is standing against the wall, waiting for me, because Vader is right there, lurking in the peripheral.

What a bastard.

These posts really are more like extended tweets, aren't they? That's okay. I despise tweets. Something about too many Hitchcock films as a child, I reckon.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Words that Bug Me

A list of words/phrases that will make me lose respect for whatever you're saying if I hear them:

You know
Well (as in, "Well, actually" or "Well, you know")
Probably (I use this one all of the time and I always wince)
Seriously (as in, "Srsly?")
Thru instead of "through" on anything that isn't a comic/text message
IMO or worse, IMHO

Strangely, "whatever" didn't make it onto the list even though it's apparently polled the most annoying word of the year. Huh.
Happy Valentine's Day!

Monday, February 13, 2012


Heh. I just looked up "neurotic" at The definition blurb is "mentally maladjusted."

I guess when you do a walk-through of the apartment, checking that the doors and all windows are locked, four times before you finally concede that yes, it is safe, and no, serial killers won't break in and/or zombies are not going to jimmy their way in and gnaw on your feet in the middle of the night...well. 

And yes, thoughts like that do actually go through my head. I didn't worry about zombies eating my feet until I watched "The Walking Dead," though. It's wrong. On eighteen different levels. 

I'm going to go check the sliding glass door again. Just once more.

Everybody Needs an Angry Dome

I would like an Angry Dome for Christmas.

There's something very satisfying about being able to talk to yourself and knowing that nobody else can overhear you. I discovered it recently when given free range of a classroom. I overtook both white boards, mapping out the issues I was having regarding a story of mine (writing is my heroin), and ended up hosting my own private therapy session.

It was great. Character development kinks and plot holes gave way to massive amounts of venting before I'd even filled up the first white board. Passive-aggressive relatives, the nagging department head at work, the self-targeted frustration at my inability to finish anything...all of it came out in neat little bubbles on the white boards, messy little words from my mouth. After which I discovered that I take my father's jokingly-intentioned jabs too personally; my department head, while a nag, is also a flaming germophobe, so if she ever really gets to me I can just sneeze in her direction; and that the only way I'm going to kick my chronic procrastination is to tell myself "fuck 'em all" and just get it done.

Yeah. Angry Dome: The Art of Self Head-Shrinkage. Could put psychotherapists out of business.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Eau d'Ex

I have been smelling my ex's perfume for the past week. No idea why. The scent must be back in style or something, but it's been pissing me off. It started at work and I had to count to ten to keep the sneer off of my face while chatting with customers.

It wasn't a terrible relationship. Typical angsty teen bullshit (this was a loooong time ago), too many hormones coupled with a complete inability to communicate beyond "where should we go this time?" See? It wasn't really even a relationship...but it was the first. I guess weird details stick with you in those cases. Actually kind of frustrated that the perfume gets such a rise out of me. It was years ago, we ended on tense terms but there was no fighting. There was cheating, though...

Don't know why the perfume bugs me so much. Darce, quit holding grudges.

Over and out. God, what a lame post. I'll try for something more controversial and exciting next time. Religion, maybe. Or sex.