The TV wants us all to die.

Have you watched the History channel lately? Personally, I love watching ‘Ice Road Truckers’. It’s kind of like watching a car wreck though. I spend the entire episode thinking “these guys are seriously insane,” yet I can’t resist watching. Things like that make me question my own sanity but that’s probably an issue for another post. Anyway, the channel has been previewing this new show and just the concept is a little beyond creepy. The new show is called “Life After People” and it’s supposed to show us what the world as we know it today will be like when we all die off. Yes, we’re dead and plants and animals have taken over. We’re apparently supposed to watch and be amazed according to the show tagline, but I think it’s a little lost on me.

Before you say it, I get that it’s supposed to be educational and interesting but I also think it’s freaky. The entire show is to constantly remind us that we will all just die one day and the world will be left completely human-less. Then animals and plants take over our buildings and eat our cats and dogs (yes, the show actually says this!) Can we get anymore depressing then this for a TV show? Honestly, why would I want to watch a show that is telling me, “Uh, when you and every human go extinct the tiger at the zoo will escape and eat your dog.” Great. Now the species that’s on the brink of extinction is going to kill our little furry friends that we love and cherish. Screw you history channel. I really don’t need to think about this.

This is a perfect example where ignorance is bliss and I’m totally all for it. I know I won’t be around forever and I’ve more or less accepted that. I still expect someone to take care of my little fur-babies when I kick the bucket though. How do you prepare your 10 pound dog to survive a world where a tiger is kicking it in its backyard? Someone needs to come up with some serious doggy/tiger defense classes or something.

This is how the show sees our world literally falling apart.

Two weeks after people: Animals will break out of the zoo desperate for food. This is where our poor little fur-babies become lunch.

One month after people: Los Angeles will dry up from lack of water supply that we won’t be there to control. Because we’re dead.

One month after people: Washington D.C. floods because we’re too dead to keep the water at bay.

Six months after people: Mosquitoes have taken over the world. Kind of glad I’m not around for that.

Ten years after people: Los Angeles burns to the ground. Fan-freaking-tastic.

One thousand years after people: The eastern coast is now one with the ocean. Anyone care for a swim? Oh never mind, YOU’RE DEAD!

Basically, if you’ve seen the movie ‘I Am Legend’, it’s kind of like that. Except there’s no flesh eating zombies and no Will Smith to admire. Other then that, it’s a perfect example of what our Earth will become when we all mysteriously die at the same exact moment, according to this seriously depressing show. I only watched the movie for Will Smith, so since he’s not in the show to do shirtless pull-ups then I’m going to have to pass.

If you have some weird obsession with humans going extinct and monkeys, elephants and ivy plants ruling the world then be my guest. I, on the other hand am content with the thought that when I die there will be people around to care for all the Fidos and Fluffys of the world.

Now excuse me while I go watch The Golden Girls.

My in-laws were convinced my husband would die because of me.

So I just found a new blog that I instantly loved. It’s called The Devil’s Daughter-in-law and it’s awesome. She shares horribly wonderful stories of her evil mother-in-law and then shares the stories people email her. It’s fantastic because it makes you feel so much better about your own retched in-laws, ya know if you have any. It’s probably still enjoyable even if you adore your in-laws which in that case you should feel special because you’re a minority. Congratulations. For the rest of us, it’s like coming home to our people. I literally read every post on her blog today because I have too much time on my hands and it has inspired me to share stories of my in-laws. Friends seem to get a kick out of them so why not share with the blogging world, or the 3 people that read this blog.

My in-laws hate me. I know this for a fact, it’s not an assumption. They have hated me from day one even before the met me. They basically hate the concept of me existing which is fun because just the fact that I can breathe pisses them off. They have also decided to hate my family just because they can even though no one has ever done anything to insult them; actually it’s more the reverse since they have insulted my family and me several times. There are way too many stories to fit in one post so here are a few gems. They once decided I must have mental issues because my father is an alcoholic (I don’t speak to him) even though my husband’s Mother grew up with an alcoholic father, but “that’s different".

When my husband and I began dating we were long distance. Actually we even met online accidentally on a random site when neither one of us were looking for a relationship. I was even dating someone at the time and our conversations were just when we were bored and online. Anyway, at some point it turned into more then casual chats and we eventually fell in love (after my other lame relationship ended of course). It was hard but we made it work. My family was fine with it but his were not. My now father-in-law actually said “Your online relationship is against God.” I’m not an expert on the bible or anything but I’m pretty sure there isn’t anything in there about not meeting someone online. Maybe I missed that page.

Being long distance, the phone was our major form of communication. Hearing each others voice is important when you can’t be face to face each day, so we would have long conversations everyday. It was important to both of us but his family had a serious problem with that and blamed me for it. They once said to him after we finished a phone call, “Do you really like that she’s so needy and forcing you to talk to her everyday?” It’s safe to say the rest of that conversation didn’t go too well as my now husband was pissed! Another day they told him that my family was just trying to pawn me off on him and that’s why they were being supportive of our relationship. WHO SAYS THAT?! They had never even met my family and decided my Mom was trying to “get rid” of me. They also decided that I must be using him although I have no idea where they got that from. Their ass is my best guess.

As he was graduating college he had a fantastic internship in New York City for a few mouths. That horrified them and they tried to stop him. When his internship was over he moved to my state in New England. I didn’t want him moving just because of me but he had always wanted out of his home state in the Midwest and loved the northeast, especially the Red Sox. As he was preparing to move his parents really pulled out the stops to try to convince him to stay. They hated the idea that he was moving away because they wouldn’t be able to control him anymore. They spouted some really crazy shit to try to scare him into staying as if he was a young child. Some of my favorites are as follows.

“But you can’t swim! They have hurricanes there all the time and if the city floods you’ll die!” – Mother-in-law

Honestly, we haven’t had a real hurricane here in YEARS! We usually get just a tropical storm or two that’s too weak to do any damage. No one has drowned, I assure you. It’s not like we live on the Gulf Coast or something. Besides, if/when a real hurricane hits, he’s not going to go for a leisurely swim.

“All the buildings in the northeast are so old and decrepit!” – Father-in-law

Um, ok? The northeast is old but it’s not like the Midwest is a spring chicken! I really don’t even know what their point was with this comment.

“You can’t work in New York City; you’ll be shot and murdered as soon as you get there!" –Mother-in-law

Okay, I get that New York is kind of scary to people who have never been there, or even for some who have, but it’s not like everyone who goes there dies every second. I mean it’s a city just like anywhere else and it just has a really bad reputation. Besides, he wasn’t even living in New York City, just commuted there to work. Whatever.

“You must leave your car here. You can’t take it to New York! It will be hijacked and stripped when you’re sleeping!” – Both of them.

They firmly believed this even after he explained that he was going to be commuting to NYC by train (like everyone else) and the car would be staying at the train station where he was living, outside of the city. There was no way in hell he was leaving his car, because only the Lord knows what they would do to it while he was gone. I think the real reason they wanted him to leave it because they knew he would be driving to see me on weekends.

“Her family isn’t Godly! They’re not Christian Reformed like we are. They’re Catholic!” – Father-in-law

First you have to picture him saying “Catholic” as if it was some horrid disease or curse. Second, last time I checked Catholic people worshiped God. I’m also pretty sure it’s a religion. My family isn’t devout though so I guess that was part of their problem. Want the kicker though? They hate Catholics because “they’re so judgmental”. Yeah, ponder that shit for a while!

When all of that failed, his mother cried. I don’t mean she shed a few tears and waved goodbye. I mean she bawled her eyes out! In full hysterics that she was never going to see him again and that I was “stealing her son!” Then his father pulled the whole, “see what you’re doing to your Mother just so you can go be with your little girlfriend!” At least they called me little. None of it worked of course. He completed his internship and moved here.

This is probably WAY too long already so I’ll stop my story telling now. I’ll have to share the more of their antics another time.

If you’re actually still reading at this point, bless you!

It’s only impressive in my mind; to my husband it’s shockingly pathetic.

For whatever reason I consistently suck at pretty much any game I play. Sometimes I’ll eventually get to the “okay” level and that’s usually an accomplishment for me. I still enjoy playing them I’m just not any good. So basically, I’m not the person you want to take to Vegas or have on your team for strip poker, because you’ll lose. I suck at video games the most so I just don’t play them very often. I’m still obsessed with my Nintendo DS though mostly because it’s pink, but it’s addicting even though I suck. I’m often handing it over to my husband to finish a level for me that I played 50 times and can’t get through. About 5 seconds later he hands it back finished and with a high score. I think it’s in men’s DNA to be good at video games.

Like some kind of cruel punishment I inflict on myself, I keep going back to one game on www.addictinggames.com. It’s called Bubble Spinner and it’s the simplest game ever made but weirdly addicting. I play it whenever I’m bored even though I get frustrated playing because I just flat out suck. I constantly end up with the little balls ramming into the side and have to start over. I had a break through today though. I somehow magically made it to level two! I didn’t even KNOW there was a level two until I got there. I thought if you ever managed to get rid of all the balls it was over. When it came up that I moved on I was like “HEY! Guess what?! I just made it to level 2 on the bubble game thing!” My husband looked at me from across the room where he was kicking ass on some Playstation game and said, “You’ve never done that before?” His face was all like ‘wow, that’s pathetic’. He didn’t say that but I know that’s what he was thinking. I was like, “No. I didn’t even know there was another level until just now. I thought it just went on forever or just ended.” He just looked at me in shock and I was like, “Why? Have you?”Honestly, I should have never asked because he was like, “Uh, yeah. I’ve gone as high as level 3.” Well, fine then!

I was proud of my level two accomplishment because honestly, that’s a big thing when you weren’t even aware you could get that far. So, yay for me! He did say ‘good job’ to be all supportive but now I’m like trying to make it past level three if there’s such a thing just so I can be like “HA!” It probably won’t happen because I don’t have the patience for the silly little rainbow balls. Plus, the game isn’t very enthusiastic when you beat a level. It just says “2x” in the corner and gives you a new set of balls to beat. That’s it! It should sing a song or have fireworks go off when you beat a level. Something that’s like, ‘Good job for not sucking!’ I told my husband this and just laughed at me but I’m serious. Like a virtual pat on the bank. Kind of like the way solitaire does the bouncing card piles at the end. Maybe the balls should explode or bounce all over the screen in between each level. I’m probably thinking about this way too much.

But at least when a game is kicking my ass I don’t get all mad and blame the games like men do! I know I suck. I just stop playing and then I’ve won in the long run because a game can’t beat you if it’s unplugged or turned off!

This is probably why I should have been an only child.

Anyone that grew up with siblings knows that it’s sort of the job of the older sibling to torture the younger ones. Well, I took that job very seriously. Don’t get me wrong, I love my younger brother and couldn’t imagine not having him around but when we were growing up, torturing him was like my favorite pastime. It drove our parents’ nuts!

There’s about a 3 and ½ year difference between us so by the time he was born I was very happy being the only child. I liked our routine and that I didn’t have to share my Mom with anyone. I was thrilled when I visited him in the hospital but I apparently thought he was supposed to stay there because I was pissed when they brought him home. I literally told my Mom, “Take him back!” I suddenly had to share my room with a screaming baby who had colic and there was baby stuff everywhere. Plus, I thought my Mom was much too busy taking care of him so I wanted him to leave. When he was a baby my Mom left the room to answer the phone and left him lying on a blanket on the floor. My little evil streak came through and I stole the poor innocent baby that was my brother and put him in the little garbage can in our bathroom. I’m horrible, I know. I even left him there and went back to my movie in the living room. Poor kid. He wasn’t in there long as when my Mom came back in she asked me where he was and I feigned innocence claiming to not know. His piercing scream quickly led her to his location, covered in dirty tissue. It’s safe to say I had a particularly long time-out that day.

What’s sad is that’s not the worst thing I ever did to him. It was just the first thing I did that showed my Mom what she was in for. I once even told her to, “take his batteries out” one of the days he seemed to cry for hours on end. She didn’t find that too funny at the time but now thinks it’s hilarious! I wasn’t always mean though. When he was old enough I helped him learn to walk using my toy shopping cart. Although the joke now is that I had an ulterior motive, since the torture really began once he was fully mobile. He was like my own personal entertainment even though I would get in trouble each time I did something to him. I either didn’t learn my lesson or it was just too much fun to get him into crazy situations. I think it was the latter but who really knows.

Being a crazy daredevil boy he was into climbing trees but never went too high. Well, at least not when I wasn’t around. One day in particular I kept coaxing him to climb higher and higher. For some reason he always listened to me (talk about not learning your lesson) and went much too high for his age. He freaked himself out and was too scared to climb down. He was clutching the tree for dear life and crying his little heart out. I at least went to get our parents though, so it’s not like I had a heart of stone and left him there or something. My Dad and his friend had to climb up the tree to get him down. It wasn’t THAT big of a tree anyway, but big enough that a ladder was used to retrieve him. At first my Mom thought he got himself into that situation but he quickly tattled and I was back in time-out for “trying to kill your brother!” I wasn’t really trying to kill him, maybe trying to toughen him up a bit. Insert evil laugh here.

I think the worst thing I ever did was burry him alive. Yes, I buried him. In our backyard. Up to his chest. That’s normal sibling behavior right? Ok, maybe not but it was funny for me at the time. I don’t remember why there was a huge hole in our backyard but I think it had something to do with sewers being installed. Anyway, I convinced my brother to get in the hole and I filled it in around him. He was completely buried up to the middle of his chest, arms and all. He couldn’t move and started to panic when he realized I probably wasn’t going to un-burry him anytime soon. I would have, eventually but he was driving me nuts that day throwing nasty worms at me so I was getting him back. It was completely even revenge really. He eventually started screaming and my Dad came outside and was seriously pissed that I buried him. He tried just pulling him out but it turns out I was a good dirt packer back then and he had to literally dig him out. My Mom was mad when she got home and found out what happened and I got the whole, “don’t you ever burry your brother again! Ever!” I’m convinced most kids probably hear that at some point in their lives.

The good thing is he’s a completely normal young man now so it’s really okay. I didn’t traumatize him and he wasn’t mister innocent either. He had his fair share of torturing me in his day. Oh, I also painted his toe nails once convincing him it was normal. He then went to the pool with plenty of people around with bright red toe nails. My Mom wasn’t too happy with that either. Neither was my Dad. Something about not turning his little boy into a little girl.

Basically when my husband and I have children, I’m completely screwed. My Mom always told me, “you’re going to have kids just like you,” when I did things that drove her nuts so my kids are going to be burying their siblings and getting them caught in trees as cross dressers.

My family must have a good sense of humor though, because we all find these stories to be hilarious now. I also protected him a lot when he was really little. It was kind of a whole ‘only I could torture him’ thing I had going.

Was any of this normal? Seeing it all written out makes me wonder if I was a seriously weird child.

Things that are frustrating the hell out of me!

1. That it’s been over a week and a half since my last post and I really have no good reason why. I’ve had material to write about and the time but for some reason I just couldn’t get my brain to write anything. Is there such a thing as “blogger’s block?” I’m back though and I’m going to kick my own ass if I do this again.

2. Are you one the gazillions of people on Twitter? I’m not! It drives me crazy how much I hear about Twitter. It’s freaking everywhere and I’m convinced it’s trying to haunt me. Everyone has an account even if they have no followers they actually know and have nothing important/interesting to “twit” or “twat” about, or whatever the hell it’s called. I can’t even watch the news without them telling me to follow them on Twitter. Why the hell would I do that?! It’s depressing enough watching the news with all the dead bodies and swine flu trying to kill us all, so why would I want that following me all day on freaking Twitter? Some little blue bird telling me that swine flu is like down the street and read to pounce on me in my sleep. So basically, I refuse to use Twitter. That little bird can bite me.

3. The fact that it’s now been four weeks since the offer we have in on a short sale house was sent to the bank for approval. I know they take time but it’s just frustrating wanting your house and having to wait for someone you don’t know to decide for you. We beat out the other offers on the house but the bank can still rip it away for whatever reason they want. Actually, they don’t even have to give a reason! So they can be all dictator-ish like, “You can’t have the house because we feel like denying you! HA HA HA! Suffer peons, suffer!” That’s what banks say all the time.

4. My hip apparently no longer wants to be my hip. I feel like a 90 year old woman who needs a hip replacement, except I’m in my 20s which is pretty pathetic. It’s like some evil invisible person is stabbing me in the hip as I walk. It’s only my left one and it was completely fine most of the day but hit around 4pm. So my choices are to either become a statue or never get off the couch. Since I’m not a big fan of bed pans I have to suffer and hobble my way to the bathroom. Just consider me a penguin for now. Someone get the fish.

5. My refrigerator pees! Three times it has built up ice in the bottom of the freezer under the panel and water drips into the fridge part and creates a super fun puddle. Sometimes, the puddle even freezes. It doesn’t leak out onto the floor thankfully, but basically it has relieving issues that won’t go away. So I get to call maintenance AGAIN to fix the damn thing AGAIN! I hate having them come in here. They’re nice but I hate having strange people come into my space. Plus once I call they will come in whether we’re here or not, and I find it crazy creepy that strangers can be in your home when you’re not there. Maybe that’s just me but I think it’s insane. Ah, the joys of apartment living.

6. That I’m so frustrated by so many things lately. Ok, this probably shouldn’t be on the list but it is something I find very frustrating. It’s kind of like a crazy never-ending cycle; I’m frustrated that I’m frustrated about things, so it just goes around and around. Did I mention it’s frustrating?

The next post will be a better one. Maybe a funny story or something. I’m too frustrated right now to decide.

The internet doesn’t know me well at all.

I have come to realize that my different internet accounts don’t know me very well, at all. You would think that since I have no life and spend most of my time online that they would have a decent understanding of my likes and dislikes. Maybe not, but they shouldn’t recommend shit for me that either freaks me out or just makes my head hurt in confusion. It’s just not nice.

I’m going to share the weird and stupid recommendations a few sites gave me today. Basically, I didn’t want to be the only one to suffer.

Yahoo Answers (my addiction):

Recommended the following question:

“Should I drink my husband’s urine??, he keeps asking me about it!?”

“My husband has been in a kinky mood the last couple of weeks and he has repeatedly asked me if I would like to "drink his urine", first I was like -hell no, but he's serious about this (he has asked for it more times than he did to get me to do anal) and I've heard that it's a pretty common sexual activity among couples, so I'm kinda confused.”

Um, what? I literally had to inflict more confusion and re-read the question a few times before I allowed my brain to believe what I just read. Who exactly is this common for? Where the hell is she getting her information? I know it’s not normal in my house! I’m far from a prude but there’s no way in hell I would drink my husband’s urine and if he ever asked me I would seriously be freaked out. I would probably take him to a neurologist and be all like, “You need to scan his head. He must think I’m a walking urinal because he asked me to drink his piss. So like, fix him!”

Then she added this little gem of a line:

“I love my husband but I hate the thought of being his garbage can!”

Ok, this should basically answer her own question but is she also trying to tell us that her husband pees in their garbage can instead of a toilet? I mean, if not then wouldn’t that make her his toilet and not a garbage receptacle?

And why the hell does Yahoo answers think I have the answer to this question? When did they get the impression that I’m the one to come to about weird pee fetishes and freaky bedroom/bathroom activities? It’s freighting really.

Youtube:

Recommended me this video (it wouldn’t let me embed it):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TR2h7igF4g&feature=rec-HM-r2


I guess Youtube thinks I speak whatever the hell language this song is in. My husband says he thinks it’s German which just makes me think Germans have weird taste in music. I have no freaking clue what they’re saying but I think it’s basically about drunk women getting all excited about giant green gorillas that can’t dance and somehow squished green bananas come into it. This is what’s popular in Germany. Apparently.

When I hit the little translate link, it told me the name of the song is "Give the monkey sugar."

So if you ever take a trip to Germany, make sure you dress up like a green gorilla so you’ll blend in and people will think you’re one of them.

Actually, if you did that you’ll probably be arrested but ya know, you would be all German like. I guess.

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On a completely un-related note, has anyone noticed that those little Ipod ear bud things are magnetic? Like they repel each other but will totally stick to my fridge. Maybe that has something to do with why I’m so weird. I think I’ll write Apple a letter saying they have caused my brain to malfunction and I want a gazillion dollars in damages. I should get an immediate response and a check in the mail by Monday.

PS. I somehow ended up being the 4th comment on The Bloggess post today about all the ways Twitter pisses her off! It was awesome! I was all excited since I’m usually closer to the bottom of the list, but it may show just how much time I really spend on the computer and it may be a chronic addiction.

Oh well. Sometimes you just have to celebrate the small things.

She thought my vagina would be afraid of the woman’s public bathroom.

Today, people see me as a nice and normal (on the outside, I look just like you) woman, but when I was teenager I was a total bitch! Maybe it was the hormones or the fact that I had an attitude the size of North America, but I was a preppy girl with a serious grudge against the world. That almost makes sense if you don’t think about it too much and kind of smack yourself in the head. Go ahead and try it, I’ll wait. – Please note: I’m not responsible for any concussions so don’t even think about calling that injury attorney on TV at 3am because I’m just a figment of your imagination and it won’t hold up in court. Contemplate THAT.

Anyway, I was kind of crazily overprotective of my younger brother. Think rabid bear protecting her cubs, minus the fur, foaming of the mouth, and flesh tearing claws – that was more or less me. Even if he completely started it and I saw him do it, it didn’t matter and I wouldn’t let anyone get him back. Some girl once decided to hit and push him down after he made fun of her for something. It was stupid because she did it in front of 3 other people who knew me and they came flocking to find me to snitch on what happened. I was like the mafia, someone hurt him and the news came immediately to me.

Just call me Don Juan.

The rabid part came out and I literally chased her around the campground we were in. Her friends ditched her and she eventually tried to hide. Only problem was she picked a WOMAN’S BATHROOM! She didn’t even lock the door and hid inside one of the literally three stalls. My friend and I were outside the door for a minute laughing at how stupid it was and I was all like, “does she think I’m afraid of the toilets?” After almost dying of laughter I went in and lost it laughing again when I realized that instead of using the deadbolt on the heavy outside door she hid behind a thin wooden stall with an eyehook lock. I was even a nice hostage taker/mafia leader and told her I wouldn’t kill her. Eventually she came out when she realized we weren’t leaving and I could just reach over the door and unlock the hook if I wanted to get her that bad. See, I wasn’t all stone, just partially.

She told me that he made fun of her for something she said that I totally don’t remember what it was because I didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to her story. It was something about him setting off her trigger or something like that. I was all like, “I really don’t care what he did to you, DON’T EVER TOUCH HIM!” Then I got totally mean and all Sopranos on her and was like, “If you ever do it again, I’m going to make your face a permanent part of the pavement.” I would have never hurt her, but it was just letting her think I would that was enough. She literally avoided me after that. I never actually hurt anyone that went after my brother but I guess I had an awesome ‘I’m going to kill you mob boss face,’ because no one ever pushed it further then that.

Honestly, even if she ran into the men’s room I still would have followed her in. My vagina was a badass and wasn’t afraid of the toilets or urinals, even though they’re very strange things to even think about peeing in.

We should all totally have our meetings in the men’s room next to the urinals. Keeps everyone on their toes.

Joking with your doctor can get you sent to the crazy house and swine flu makes you want to buy a farm!

I don’t know about you but I’ve never really met a doctor that has much of a sense of humor. I actually think they have it removed during medical school like some kind of requirement.

A friend of mine, who wants to remain anonymous that we’ll call Annie, has a cold from hell that is still kicking her ass. She was hacking up phlegm all over the place and basically felt like death. So I went with her to her doctor and witnessed the following scary and fucking hilarious conversation.

Annie: “I’ve been sick for over a week and I can’t stop coughing. I have a constant headache and I cough up green stuff all the time. Sometimes I can’t breathe because I’m coughing so hard. My nose is like a running faucet and my throat feels like it’s trying to rip it’s self apart. *Cough cough hack hack- phlegm* I think I’m dying.”

*Her doctor moves his little wheely stool in front of her and looks her dead in the face with a very serious look.

Doctor: “Annie, listen to me. You are not going to die but if you really think you are then we have a serious problem here. If you truly believe you’re going to die then you need to see a psychiatrist.”

Annie: “What? No. I don’t think I’m going to die I just feel like I’m going to die, it’s just how it feels.”

*At this point she just looked at me like this doctor was crazy which was ironically what the doctor was thinking of her.

Doctor: “I see. You have me very concerned and I may have to go make a few phone calls.”

Annie: “Why? Do you think I have swine flu because I really think I do? I mean I have the symptoms and everything...”

*The doctor cut her off shaking his head.

Doctor: “No, no. You don’t have swine flu. I think you have a sinus infection along with some seasonal allergies. I’m concerned because you believe you’re dying and that’s something a mental health professional needs to evaluate.”

Annie: “Huh? *Cough hacking cough* No, I don’t think I’m dying. Seriously, I was just saying I feel like death. Like, I feel like shit. I don’t need to see anyone; I know I’m not dying. It was kind of a joke, like ha-ha.”

I couldn’t hold it anymore and just died laughing. It was insane that she was just using a figure of speech and a little joke and this doctor was ready to strap on the straight jacket. This also got me a dirty look from her doctor. Annie tried to laugh with me but ended up caught in a coughing fit that lasted a good minute.

The doctor eventually understood what she was trying to say after both Annie and I explained what she really meant. He didn’t even get that the joke went right over his head. Seriously, this guy is like made of stone. She left with a boatload of prescriptions for antibiotics, cough medication, nose spray, and allergy pills. Basically, he doped her up.

By the time I left her house she was flying high on cough syrup and saying she was going to buy a horse. Where she plans to keep the horse in her tiny backyard, I have no idea.

Catching a swine flu look-a-like disease makes you want to start a farm. Apparently.

The first-time homebuyer class was trying to paralyze or infect me with the plague.

Actual Hazmat play set. Every child should have one.
So my husband and I had to go to a first-time homebuyer class seminar thing tonight which I don’t think is how you’re supposed to spend your Cinco de Mayo, so I may have to send an angry letter to whoever scheduled the class. Anyway, about 60 people were there and I swear at least three people were infected with something. Every few minutes at least one of them would hack up a lung and I could feel the swine flu infecting my body. As I type this, I think I’m incubating some type of swine flu/black plague hybrid disease that could kill me by tomorrow afternoon. That or I could just be sick with a cold by the end of the week, either way it’s totally screwed up. Two of the infected people were sitting only two to three chairs away from me so I wasn’t the required 150ft away from them to avoid their cough spreading germs. Gross. As the guy was telling all of us what we should know, I couldn’t help but wish I had a hazmat suit folded up nicely in my purse.

To make it even worse the class was 3 ½ hours long and they set out chairs from hell that made my hips and lower back scream out in pain only about 30 minutes into the lecture. By the time the whole thing was over I was convinced I was never going to be able to walk again. This is how our conversation went on the way home.

Me: I think I’m going to be paralyzed from the waist down because of this damn class.

Husband: Um, you just walked from the building to the car, I think you’re fine.

Me: Yeah but it’s not immediate onset. It’s going to hit when I’m not expecting it like in the middle of the night or when I’m on the toilet.

Husband: Ok, fine. We’ll get you some of those old lady bathroom handle bars. Then you can just power lift yourself off the toilet.

Me: I’ll be too weak from the black plague- swine- bird flu hybrid disease I caught from the lady next to you.

At this point he just laughed his ass off and said that we’re both just crazy. But I survived the class and even though I’ll be dead by Thursday we have our little certificate that says we did the class thing. I may have to attend our closing in a hazmat suit strapped into a wheelchair but hey, we’ll get a house (well, when we find one that our offer is accepted on – whenever the hell that happens).

PS: Did I mention the class was held in a room at our local police station? Seriously. In between the explanations about different programs for first time buyers we heard policemen make announcements requesting someone to go to the main desk.

A homeowner’s class in the same building as the criminals of your city. It’s the American dream.

It’s totally not safe in the middle of nowhere. You can get raped and chopped up like a stir-fry.

My husband and I drove by a house we saw online that’s for sale the other day. He liked that it had like an acre of land and some odd shape that’s a ranch but not at the same time. The closer we got to the house the less cell phone signal we had and I was all like, “Omygod! What if our car dies like right now and we can’t call anyone?! We’re going to die out here.” He kind of looked at me like I was suddenly growing a second head and was like, “We’re not going to die and the car’s fine. Besides, we’re on a street with plenty of houses that we could easily ask to use their phone and its daylight.” I literally almost lost my mind right there and then because how could I love someone so not up on how we could possibly die! So then I’m freaking out and was all like, “What?! We can’t just walk up to a house to use a phone! Have you not seen a single horror movie, like ever? That’s how you’d get chopped up into tiny little pieces and I’d be kept as their baby making slave. Oh, and people get raped in the daylight all the time. I saw it on Oprah.”

He laughed at me for my mini freak out but I think I’m totally justified. I mean, there’s like thick woods everywhere that crazy rapist and cannibals could be hiding out in their tree houses made out of human bones and skin. I mean, it happens all the time, right? Every house we drove by I was thinking about how someone could be breaking in right that second. He really doesn’t get that I think houses that are in the middle of no where are less safe then one in a normal neighborhood because there’s no one around and you could be dead for weeks before anyone smelled you.

So we pull up in front of the house and I opened my cell phone and it said the dreaded ‘searching’ screen. I was like, “Holy shit! The phone doesn’t even know it should be a t-mobile phone! We could be attacked like right now and no one would ever hear us scream!” He laughed at me was like, “Babe. There are plenty of houses on this street; if you screamed about 15 different people would hear you.” I think he’s totally nuts and I’m now more concerned then ever. I was then like, “Yeah but they would totally think it was a fox or fisher cat or something! They sound just like someone dying. So great, in case we weren’t dead already they would come out and shoot us thinking we were some wild screeching animal in heat. I feel SO much better now.” I gave him a huge eye roll with that and he just kept laughing and telling me I’m crazy. Maybe, but I’m not dead and hanging over someone’s fireplace mantel!

We left a few seconds after that and I couldn’t wait to see those magical little bars appear on my screen. When it had two bars I was like, “Look! We’re saved. Ok, new rule. No more houses outside the cell phone range.” He laughed but agreed. Besides, it would have been a hell of a commute since the highway was about 8 miles away from the house alone.

I tend to have a similar reaction when in the mountains.

I could be overreacting.