Holidaze

As I sit here in the dark, glaring at the softly blinking lights on my Hanukkah bush, I wish for a respite from the madness that is the holiday season. I wish for so many things, all at once: an end to the seemingly endless parade of Sale papers for stores that I never shop in, a break from the consumer-driven frenzy of traffic and too-friendly, overbearing red decor, a return to sanity, and, most importantly, I wish for the year to end. Don't get me wrong. I'm endeared to little baby Jesus as much as anyone. However, this country and these people are not celebrating immaculate conception. They are, (I'll add this in, lest I be rendered obtuse) FOR THE MOST PART, celebrating material gain. They could care less that an infant was born in desperate times while God looked on, pleased with His son. They haven't fallen in with the Messiah. They have fallen in the Gap.
There. I feel better now that I've gotten that out there. Merry Christmas, everyone, and thank God this year is almost over.

I'm Not Your Damn Dowager Aunt!!!!!!!!

Well, now that I got that out, I feel better. Don't ask why it needed to get out. My life is a strange, twisting, and often dull thing. What amounts to massive drama in my life might just equal the excitement of Lauren Conrad stopping off to pee at a Coach Store on "The Hills."
But seriously, people. I have seen some things over this past year, and I have discovered enough to know that some of you out there are really sick and strange individuals. Much like myself. So, I'm glad to say that I can achieve relative safety in numbers, and that maybe, just maybe, the crocodile will grab one of you other stupid water buffalo today instead of me. Here's to hoping. Just kidding. I'm not that cut-throat. I don't have it in me. When I was told in training to find my 'killer instinct,' the only thing I could do was pretend I was playing a part in a Charlie Sheen war movie and just scream a lot and act really erratic. It seemed to fool my stoic keepers; either that, or, more likely, they just didn't care, knowing that I would never, ever have occasion to use any of the artillery that I was currently mishandling.
I'm sure that at this point you're asking yourself, is there an actual point to this bs? And the answer to that, dear friend, is no. This is just as wending and disjointed as the thoughts that run around in circles in my head from day to day. Welcome to the Thunderdome, bitches. I just decided that I would take this time to throw out a little random rant about things in general and particular, and not necessarily in that order. So, here goes. Here are some questions that I've found myself asking lately:

One: Why do I have such an aversion to leftovers? If I ate it once, what's the worst that could happen if I ate it again? (That's what she said.)

Two: Why do I have such an insurmountable collection of crap in my house? Is there anything here that I would really miss if I burned it to the ground?

Three: Why is it that people seem to talk to me when I CLEARLY do not want them to? And, of all the things to say, they offer to bite me.... Alright, so maybe I'm not the most normal person out there, but COME ON. I think I hide it well. How is it that I seem to be some sort of magnet for the posterchildren of post-birth abortion? Where the hell are the dinosaurs when you need them? Natural selection is just being too damn choosey these days.

Four: Why, in the name of all that is Holy, are there MREs in my cupboard?

Those are all that I can think of at this particular juncture in time. If you have answers for me, please won't you share them with the class?

welcome

First off, I'd just like to say welcome. I am going to assume that you are reading this of your own volition. I should offer a word of caution before this web-tryst goes any further: I am not a nice person. I don't care about your warm and fuzzy sensibilities. If I put out something that offends you, I DON'T CARE. For various reasons, I won't be mentioning anyone's name in here. I will rely on initials or made up names to keep people I know from throwing blunt objects at my head, not that they could do more damage to me than my job has already done, but that's a topic for another post. To get to the point, take everything I post with a grain of salt, and for God's sake, at least TRY to have a sense of humor. Enough said.

I was recently told by my hiking compatriots that I needed to start a blog. The reason, you ask? Apparently, all the cool kids were doing it and I, sadly, was left behind to rail against the unfairness of it all. (What was actually happening is that I was trying to climb back up a mini-mountain in Carolina and was too slow to catch up to said compatriots. I'll get you, you bastards. Just you wait.) So, here I am today, muddling through blurred and swirled words that I have to retype because Blogger thinks that I might be a computer program trying to pull its pants down while it wasn't looking, all to make my friends happy. No. I can't really say that. Maybe this is just what I've been needing, a comfortable public podium from which I may bitch about life in general and stupid people in particular. While I won't always be bitching about stupid people (not for lack of material, I assure you,), I will always try to keep my observations as light-hearted as I possibly can while not losing my acerbic taste for flippant remarks and sarcasm. This is my pledge to you, the reader.

So, if you're still with me, once again let me say welcome. And hold on tight. This road might just get a little bumpy.