Thursday, March 29, 2012

Things That I Know Happen While My Eyes are Closed

What a hiatus! I shall waste no time boring you with what I was doing for weeks because it was all boring and worthless. I sound like a MANIC DEPRESSANT!! (screamed like SNL's Target Lady. Kristen Wiig, I cherish you.)

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Anywho, back to the point of this post. Lately, I have been having trouble opening my eyes after I close them. Don't worry, it's not due to some horrific medical condition.

Worse.

It's due to what my brain does to me when I close my eyes.

For example: Showering. All is well while I'm in the shower. I scrub my body with absolutely luscious soaps whose fragrances range from shea butter to pomegranite and mangos. The water is just hot enough that as it rains on my head and flows down onto the rest of my body, I get chills and the utmost satisfaction of reveling in such sinful warmth. I scrub my head with shampoo and rinse. I grab the exfoliating face wash.. wait. This is where things get hard. As you can imagine, washing your face with your eyes open isn't easy, especially in a shower where unexpected water splashes are frequent.

I brave the storm and slap the wash on my face, eyes closed. DAMN IT. As soon as I am ready to open my eyes, I know that I will see this:

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(No, not the normal guy who looks unfortunately unaware of the horrific demon behind him) peering at me from behind a slightly pulled back shower curtain. It's a good thing I'm in the shower because I will inevitably have shat myself.


I also know that once I switch off the light in the bathroom after I'm done showering and am ready to leave, this will happen:

 

Actually, this happens to me in my mind more often than most other scary things. And, of course, my wedgie will be nowhere near as awful as her's. Her asshole chafe must be out of this world.

Aah, so once I have been properly spied on by the demon in the shower and dragged down the stairs to an unholy wedgie-hell, I'll go to bed. ONLY IT IS SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT.

The bed faces the closet. Sometimes the closet is still open when I get in bed. The lights are off. This means that I will not get out of bed for fear of getting dragged under my bed in a similar manner to what happens to me after I get out of the shower. So there I lie, my eyes unwaveringly locked on the closet, waiting for this to happen:

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I don't know why this must happen to me. I accept that my subconscious wants to terrify me and clearly the movies I watch don't help either. I also frequently imagine myself just about to leave the apartment and then DRAGGED RIGHT BACK INSIDE! God, I need some sleep.

So please, share what wonderful things your mind does to you!

Monday, March 5, 2012

La Policia Coupled With Tears of Despair

Driving home, six hours, woke up at 5:15 am, three hours of sleep, and the Jay-Z song was on, the Jay-Z song was on.  So I'm on the phone with my co-author, bored, having been in the car for hours.  Not to mention I was a little stir crazy, driving by oneself for hours can get a little challenging.  Before I'd gotten on the phone I was singing Celine Dion's My Heart Will Go On at the top of my lungs, having lost my voice the weekend before, it sounded more like Chinese Water Torture than music, but I digress.


New York is a haven for the police, a state just poor enough that they seemingly need to have cops pulling over a certain number of people a year to bring in all that fine money.  MUAHAHAHA says the government.  You'll enter New York and immediately see those menacing navy vehicles parked where you can see them, causing your heart to contract and shoot further into your chest cavity.  Even if you're going the speed limit, or just over, you slow down.  I would imagine that that's very entertaining for police officers.


Anyway, I'm chatting on the phone, I have my phone hooked up to the sound system in my car so I'm not breaking the law of talking on the phone while driving.  I see to my right that a cop has another car pulled over, I continue on my merry way, pleased that I don't have to worry about that particular cop pulling me over.  However, shortly after I pass the cop pulls back onto the road, my heart shoots backward as I slow to just the speed limit.


"Jeez, this cop is behind me, I don't like it," I tell my friend.  "They're not going around me."


I see the multicolored light show behind me, the cop has signaled that my ass is grass.


"Shit, I have to go," I bark onto the phone, hastening to hang up before it becomes apparent that I was talking on the phone as well as breaking a law...I don't know what law yet.


My aunt is a state trooper, I have a sticker that shows I have familial ties to the troopers, apparently winning me brownie points, however, this cop (a woman?) comes to the other side.  My heart is pounding, though mostly I'm questioning what I've done wrong.


"License and Registration please," says the VERY butch woman glaring in at me.


Remembering that I heard somewhere if you have a sudden reach for the glove compartment or anything in your car, the cop may very well pull a gun on you I tell her, "my license is in my purse in the back seat and my registration is in the glove compartment." She nods, regarding me as one might a mosquito on their shoulder.  I retrieve what she asks for.


As I unbuckle and turn to the backseat to get my license "she" says, "Is there a reason you didn't change lanes?"


I am immediately polite and apologetic, "I didn't see you were trying to get back on the road until after I'd passed you, I'm sorry."


This was not the response she was looking for, "Aren't you aware that you violated the passing rule by not changing to the immediately adjacent lane while passing an emergency vehicle?"


"No," I answer, the phrase, ignorance of the law does not make you exempt from it, ringing in my mind.


"Her" face turns to condescending shock, "You don't know that for over a year now there has been a law stating that you must change lanes when an emergency vehicle is stopped with its lights on?"


"No, I'm sorry."


"So you've just been driving around, not changing lanes for emergency vehicles?"


Well I apparently forgot to mention that my car is usually lit ablaze when I drive past emergency vehicles. Bitch.


"I don't encounter that many stopped emergency vehicles," I tell her honestly, still shocked that this is why I have been pulled over.  I mean honestly.


"I'll be right with you," she says walking away, but not before adding, "I would have hoped out of common courtesy you would have pulled into the other lane regardless."


I immediately chastise myself but the first word that comes to mind as she walks away is, "cunt." God, I hate that word, but if there ever was one... Not to mention it's a total lie when the police say "they'll be right with you." That wait is the longest of your life.  I swear it takes hours, during which I was holding back tears.  I would not give that "woman" the satisfaction of seeing me cry.


After receiving my ticket, the officer and I reached an impasse, who gets back on the road first.  I waited for her to go, not putting it past her to pull me right over again.  Good thing I did too because not a minute later I was able to get the distinct pleasure of seeing her pull over yet another person (seriously "lady").


After being a safe distance away from her, the adult I am, called my mother and promptly burst in hysterics.