Directionless Ramblings by No One of Consequence

Since I realize I can, I’m doing another entry toTrifecta. 

Woke up at a ridiculous hour this morning and couldn’t get back to sleep. I came up with this after having an excellent cup of coffee, and some perfect fried eggs. Not really relevant to the story at all, but breakfast is always nice.

 

 

 

My mother placed me on the fat man’s lap. His  face was covered in white whiskers and he wore glasses. His beady eyes sparkled. “Ho, Ho, Ho!” The camera shutter flashed. I peed.

 

 

 

 

This is fun.

 

Also, I’m dumb.

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Trifecta contest entry. Heard about it from Edward Hotspur.

“Write a horror story in 33 words, without the words blood, scream, died, death, knife, gun, or kill. Good luck.”

The house was quiet, still. Years of dust coated the furniture. Everything was gray. Moonlight trickled through the patchy roof. She was alone, save a few pigeons. She knew she’d never be found.

Stage Fright

I’ve come to the terrifying conclusion that I have absolutely nothing good to say. I’ve been surfing all the wonderful, amazing blogs out there. There’s tons of them. People blogging to their hearts content about all sorts of fascinating topics. Cooking Blogs, Writing Blogs, Social Commentary, Exotic Places, Arts, Crafts, Photography, Spoon of the Day, Eel Wrangling. (OK, I made those last two up. But I wonder….) I could browse around for hours!

And so many excellent writers. I peek at a blog because it looks interesting, and then I’m sucked in by the person’s writing style. Witty people, sarcastic people, grammar nazis (shut up red wiggle, I’m not capitalizing it), movie buffs, people reviewing books that I must now read. Each of them with their own unique voice and grasp of the English language.

At first I look at all these blogs and think to myself,  “hey, if they can do it, so can I. I have funny stories, I have opinions. Weird stuff happens to me sometimes. I like writing words!”  And I start taking notes of all the crazy, amazing, random thoughts I think throughout the day, hoping to make a post about one or several of them. Then everyone can laugh and cry and join me in my fantastic adventures.

Then I come home to my laptop. My brain is bubbling with ideas. I just have to tell the world! I saw a rabbit try to mount a squirrel! My cat learned to speak Spanish! Jason Statham just rode by my house on a bicycle! My Big Mac actually looked like what was in the advertisement photo! I start reading a few blogs here and there because I get sidetracked. Once again I’m amazed at all the awesome bloggers. But the effect is much more negative than before I thought I had an idea worth writing about.

Who do I think I am? I’ve got no business trying to equate myself to the likes of them. They have real exciting adventures. They’ve been writing for years, probably been published too! They went to school for the stuff they’re talking about. They have photography skills. They’re funny. They have vast, detailed knowledge of their subject matter, that shows in their concise and authoritative handling of the words and sentences, that they weave so effortlessly across the page.

Who am I to think any of them would want to look at the measly crud I spew forth. Seriously. I’m sure loads of people get perfect looking Big Macs. Somebody cooler than me probably has a cat that speaks Portuguese. Who wants to hear my stories? WHY DID I START A BLOG? I’m nobody. I’m not even Crew Man Number Six. I’m faceless nameless guy getting eaten by the monster before the main characters even show up. I’m the guy launched by an explosion followed by the George Lucas screaming sound effect. You know the one I’m talking about. It’s in Star Wars and Indiana Jones, and just about everything with somebody falling off a cliff, or getting eaten by crocodiles, or flying from an explosion. That really cheesy scream. Come on… you know… (looks it up) Ah! The Wilhelm Scream! That’s what it’s called! Yeah, that’s me, the guy that goes woooaugh! Who cares what he has to say?

~By the way, I’m not a guy, I just tend to use the gender associated with what I’m talking about. The term is not “Crew Lady Number Six” and I’m not saying “Crew Person”~

Aw fudgecicles.

What was I saying?

Oh yeah….

When I was a young child and my mom would decide to tear up the house and rearrange things to get rid of all the clutter and dust bunnies, she’d always put on mixed tapes of her most favoritest songs. She was a child of the 80s so you can imagine …

If you can’t, here are some examples:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I will admit to liking a few of these song.  XD Some of the sappier ones, not so much. I like to rock. Thankyouverymuch. Like A Hurricane! *air guitar solo* Ahem. On a sidenote, the Seether remake of Careless Whisper is pretty badass.

Back on subject.

I’d always know my mom was about to do some serious cleaning when she’d put on the mixed tape and haul out the vacuum. This music was for hardcore cleaning only. No dusting the knicknacks and sweeping the dirt under the rug sort of stuff. No. This was for pulling out the couch, scrubbing the kitchen floor, and rearranging all the books and movie tapes music. This was for when Dad comes home he’ll think he’s at the wrong house, better leave the lights on at night because the muscle memory diagram you have of the furniture is now obsolete, housecleaning. That takes determination, that takes the whole afternoon. That takes help from your kids.

My brother and I both would be bombarded for hours with this music whilst helping our mom. (there was no choice because the house becomes a war zone when my mom cleans) Eventually we’d get sick of it (cleaning, the music, and her singing along with the music whilst cleaning) and go outside.

But that stuff sticks to you. It’s like Pavlov’s dog. The dog hears the bell and drools. I hear some epic 80s music, and I want to go tear up my house.

In fact, my house could use some 80s music right about now….

My Plan to Beat the Heat

So here in Nebraska, we don’t have those things you normal people call “seasons”. We’ve got a period of snow and yuk, followed by slightly nice weather, immediately followed by what seems like August. Then it cools off, then it snows. Maybe some rain here and there. Weird things like 70 in January, snow in July. You just never know here.

This year is shaping up to be a HOT HOT summer. We had the mildest winter I’ve ever seen, and now we’re getting temperatures in the 80s before there’s even leaves on the trees. This is not normal. Usually it’s snowy blizzard and rain time right about now. And before it warmed up, we were having highs in the 40s and still freezing at night. Now it’s not even getting below 60 until 9pm or so.

This is not good news for me.

I’m one of those people with absolutely no heat tolerance. My ideal temperature is around 68 and I start wearing shorts and itty bitty tank tops as soon as it gets over 70. I start getting cranky around 75, and my brain function and motivation to do anything other that lay on the couch with ice on my face disappears at about 80. If I can’t keep my house cooler than 72,(I’ve just got a crummy window A/C, which admittedly is better than nothing) I have a breakdown. And if it stays warm at night, I’ll spend it all  tossing, turning, throwing the covers, and just generally not sleeping. Crankiness and brain-foggery ensues.

Nothing helps, I just don’t get along with warmer temperatures. So I decided HEY!  Why not recondition myself to enjoy the heat? I’m going to try to transform myself into one of those people who is always cold. You know the wimpy ones, who have to wear a coat indoors because 70 is cold. They go out in full winter gear when it’s 40 outside. And  when it’s 80+ outside, they’re always commenting on how wonderful the weather is and, how it’s just so warm and YAY IT’S GREAT! I just glare, and frown, and grumble to myself how it’s so fricking hot. Crazy people, why aren’t you sweaty and miserable? I HATE being sweaty and miserable. I’m going to join your wimpyness … wimpiness? Wimpy-ness? AGH! The red wiggly lines don’t like any of those options. Anyway…

My plan is this:

  • No matter how warm it gets this spring, I’m not wearing shorts and I’m leaving my hoodie on
  • Drink room temperature water
  • Don’t take my coat off to cool down, instead relax and sip water so my body learns to cool itself off
  • Always wear socks (most of my heat intolerance is in my feet and going bare is my old method of cooling down)
  • Cover up in a blanket indoors whether or not I feel chilly
  • Wear warm PJ’s

So far all of these efforts are working! Normally, I’m comfortable in a T-shirt outside at 65, now I feel really chilly. I usually overheat easily if it’s much warmer than 68 inside, now I need a blanket or hoodie until it’s at least 73. I wore my hoodie, jeans, and 2 t-shirts all day outside on a day of 80 degrees, and it hardly bothered me. If I’d tried that before, I’d have been a steaming, sweaty, puddle of immobile goo.

Hopefully by the time it starts hitting the 90s I’ll be OK and not die like I usually do! :D

One small bit of irony though. You’d think since I’m being all covered up, that’s great sun protection. Who needs sunscreen? Apparently, I do.  I’ve got the worst sunburn on my neck and chest in a perfect outline of my v-neck T.