Monday, September 26, 2011


1)  Chances are, by the time you read this I will have mutated into some kind of grotesque, lumpy, gray humanoid creature that can read minds and ooze under doors.  Why?  Well, while I was at the gym this morning, I wasn't thinking and I wiped my mouth on my gym towel.  You know the one I'm talking about.  The scratchy, overly bleached towel provided by the gym that people use to wipe sweat off of their hands and weight machines?  Wiping your face on a gym towel is bad enough, but not totally disgusting, but wiping your mouth...ugh.  Not only that, before I could stop myself, I licked my lips.  It was just a reflex, and my brain was not quick enough to tell me to stop.  I was inside, so I couldn't spit, and so now I'm fairly certain that I've infected myself with something that will probably cause Athletes Liver or something like that.

I feel unclean. UNCLEAN ON THE INSIDE!  *whimper*

2) So...Facebook has changed and it's annoying.  I mean, I'm not flipping out and threatening to stop using it like some people, but it's irritating simply because it's new.

 It's funnier if you say it in his voice. DO IT!

My only problems with it at this point are A) It janked up the privacy settings, which you have to figure out how to deal with and that is kind of a serious issue that needs to be addressed and  B) I'm tired of people complaining about it. Threatening to stop using the site isn't going to get Mark Zuckerberg in a tizzy and cause him to change it back.  Honestly, he's probably too busy rolling around naked in zillion dollar bills to care much of what you think.  He's got 750 million or so other people who are going to stick around even if you don't.

Then, of course, some rumor got started that Facebook was going to start charging for memberships and people got their knickers all in a twist about it, once again threatening to stop using it.  First off, when you sign up, the page says "Free and always will be."  Also, Facebook Users are the product that Facebook sells to advertisers, and I doubt any smart business is going to charge it's product for the privilege of being sold.  The whole debacle just makes me wish that Facebook had an app that allowed you to remotely smack people upside the head.

3) I've got to hide from the Jehovah's Witnesses for the rest of my life, and it's all my fault.  OK, see, the former J.W. who used to come to our neighborhood was a nice lady that would stop by and hand me a copy of her magazines.  I'd always take them because I knew she was just out doing her thing and I didn't want to discourage her from telling people about God.  Also, I'm fairly certain that she probably got the door slammed in her face more than once.  I think she knew I wasn't interested in joining her religion, but I was nice to her, so she'd always drop by.  The last time I actually saw her in person was while I was sick with pneumonia and drugged beyond the capacity of rational thought.  I had been asleep and heard the doorbell ring.  In full-on drugged Crazy Town mode, I jumped out of bed and ran to the door, jerked it open and scared the crap out of her.  I mean, she actually jumped back, got caught on a broken pot that was behind her and almost fell down the stairs.  I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I probably looked like the girl from The Exorcist, which isn't exactly what a traveling missionary is expecting to see when they stop by a house.  I have no idea what I said to her, but she didn't waste time getting away from me.  I know she said she was sorry I was sick, and in my memory, I said it was OK, but for all I know I mumbled something only the Elder Gods would understand.  Yog Sithoth rules!  I dunno.  All I know is that I never saw her again, and whomever took over for her was like some kind of Jehovah's Witness ninja.  I'd never see or hear them come by, but when I'd open my door, a Watchtower magazine would be rolled up and stuck between the doorknob and the door frame.  I liked it that way.

Well, last week I was in the middle of eating lunch and the doorbell rang.  I thought it was a package being dropped off, but was Elvis.  Not that Elvis, silly...a Jehovah's Witness named Elvis who wanted to ask me questions about God.  I didn't want to be rude, again, he's a missionary and I respect that, but still...sigh.  Of course, I wasn't in the mindset at that moment to be given a Sunday school lesson, and I answered his question wrong.  I tried to backtrack, but he was having none of it.  He went on with his spiel, handed me a magazine, and asked if he could come back and discuss it with me.  I didn't know what to say that wouldn't come out rude, so I said OK.  The thing is, I don't want to discuss it with him.  I already know that while our beliefs have similar themes and touchstones, they just do not agree on important things.  I wish I had the stones to just tell him, no, I'm not interested, but I didn't and now I've got to figure out a way to avoid these people because unlike the Mormons, these people WILL come back.  They are tenacious!  I always try to work in that I am a Christian when they come by and start asking me questions, which is my probably too-subtle way of letting them know I am not interested, but they probably hear that all the time and they want to win people over to their side. 

I just don't want to be rude, but I'm also really not interested. I going to spend the rest of my life with no lights on, creeping around the house on my hands and knees so as not to be seen through the windows.  I'm such a jelly-fish.

4) You know, I've never before realized just how often I walk around the house in various states of undress*.  Now that the family who owns the land behind us is having it cleared off by a large group of male landscapers, and since we haven't yet put blinds up in the dining room's big windows, I'm forcefully reminded, usually too late, that they can see right into my house.  We used to have opaque curtains in the kitchen, so I'm used to having privacy.  I mean, I'm not one of those people who vacuum naked or anything like that, but I've never thought twice about running to the other parts of the house while I'm getting ready to go someplace and not fully dressed yet.  I don't even know if anyone up there has seen me, but in my cringing imagination, they have and they've laughed. 

*I'd like to apologize for any mental pictures that might have caused.  It was not intentional and I can't be held responsible for therapy bills.  That is all.

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