A Tale of Death and Scoffing

This afternoon was downright hilarious. I got home and as per usual the bunny's cage smelt disgusting. Andrew (my roommate) is constantly flabbergasted at the fact that I am consistently surprised by the fact that the bunny smells. "All he does is shit, eat and hump," Andrew says. Well, I think the bunny also provides me with unconditional love and a cuddle whenever I need it, two things that I cannot say that Andrew helps me with. Actually, it's Andrew's fault that this afternoon was so hilarious. So anyways, I got home and cleaned the bunny cage. While cleaning the cage, i realized that the grass had gotten really long. And here is where Andrew comes in. You see, we are responsible for mowing the grass at our house. My dad bought us a lawnmower back in July and I made the mistake then of being the first person to mow the lawn. Well, silly me. I should have assumed that because I was the first person to mow the lawn, that my roommates would therefore assume that it was my SOLE responsibility to mow the lawn. Forever.

Now, in any normal household, it would be the boys job. But no, not in our house. In our house, Andrew not only fails to provide me with unconditional love and cuddling, but he also scoffs at any mention of someone OTHER THAN ME mowing the lawn.

So, I mowed the lawn today while feeling unappreciated by all but the Bunny. My lovely gay retired nurse neighbor Jimmy came to the fence as I was finishing up for a chat and I shared with him another "man task" that Andrew had failed to accomplish- removing the gigantic spider from our front porch.

This spider is fucking ginormous. It was all leggy and black with yellow stripes. It had built the web to end all webs on the front porch, right next to the mailbox. In fact, none of us had gotten the mail in three days for fear of losing a hand to the monster spider. I told Andrew the spider must go. Andrew scoffed. I pleaded that it must be killed- if we spared its life it would undoubtedly come after us in our sleep and eat us whole. Andrew still scoffed. He scoffs a lot. I was sad. I wanted my mail. I wanted to live without fear of coming home and being eaten. I shared all this with Jimmy. Jimmy winked and told me to meet him on my porch in 5 minutes.

I met him on my lawn 5 minutes later. I refused to get near the porch. He brought some inspect killing spray and our other neighbor Maxine, the 75 year old lady next door who is way cool. Maxine took one look at the damn thing and said "Yep, Jimmy you're right. It's the biggest spider in the world." That comment made me fell vindicated for my fears. Jimmy took control. Max and I stood back and watched Jimmy spray the monster over and over and over again. It crawled about and swung and did all kinds of gross spidery things before falling to the porch and trying to skitter to safety. Jimmy deftly removed his shoe and stomped it. Suddenly, there was no spider- not on Jimmy's shoe or anywhere. Jimmy swore it was dead- he saw the body. But I was unconvinced. That thing was a monster- it may be like Voldemort; all it needs is a little bit of soul to regrow and become more evil and terrible than ever before.

Regardless of the fate of the monster spider, I am happy that I have a gay retired nurse neighbor to do the mans work around here. Oh and if you were wondering, Andrew was inside for the whole spider execution. Scoffing.

A universal thank you to my ridiculous friends

I have this best friend. Today I called her in tears. This is not necessarily unusual, but it has been quite some time since I had a reason to cry, much less a reason to call her while crying. But I did call her crying today. She listened to me sob for a while and tried to soothe and calm me. Finally, when I had settled down enough, she broke the news: she had recently slept with a one armed man. Upon hearing this, I immediately stopped crying and almost spit the Dr. Pepper I was drinking across the room. He was hot, she explained, and though he never calls, he does infrequently text her and she's fine with that. She doesn't like clingers anyways.

Wow. I love my best friend. I want to sleep with an infrequently texting, attractive, one armed man too if for no other reason than to say that I slept with an attractive, non-clingy one armed man. If anything, this conversation proves to me that I have the best friends in the world. They are such terribly interesting people that no matter how sad I am they usually have something ridiculous to tell me to get my mind off my own things.

Which reminds me of the drunk dial I received from Gene yesterday at 2:35am. He said he was in the gayest situation in all of Alaska, which did and did not surprise me. It surprised me because I didn't know Gene was in Alaska. It did not surprise me that Gene was in a gay situation because despite being straight, Gene can often be found in ridiculously gay surroundings. The rest of the message was slurred (Gene also can't speak with he is inebriated), but it made me happy. I have good, amusing friends that can help me endure even the worst of life circumstances.

So here's to you, friends. Your antics make my life bearable. Thanks.

Water and other elements that make my life great

Today I got sunburned. It was awesome. I feel that no day that you get sunburned can be a bad day. In fact, today was a perfect day. One of those days that if someone asked me to describe my "perfect day", I would describe today. It involved pancakes, surfing, fishing, hilariousness and most importantly, my family.

Which brings me too my next point: I need to live by the water. Whats more, I need to live by the water in a huge house that will fit all my friends and family. Whats even more, I need to have the finances to support all my friends and family in said home on said body of water. I don't think staying in the wine industry will facilitate this plan, so I might try Vegas again in the near future. Or maybe I will just keep dreaming. It's a shame though, isn't it? We get one life. Just one chance to do whatever the hell we want. And we so often spend it separated from the people we care about. Today, I realized how much I tremendously miss my family. But than again, I can't just pick up and buy and RV and spend my life traveling all over visiting the kin. And there in lies life's great pickle. That which we want so much is that which we are unwilling to pursue.

Anyways, I do need to live by the water because I have realized how much happier I am when submerged. I miss surfing and fishing, I miss hot sand and sunburns. I guess you can say that despite this day's greatness, I also realized how much was missing.

Welcome to My Life

At the ripe old age of 12, I decided that when I grew up I wanted to be a Hallmark Card Writer. This astute observation came from a theory that I hold true to today: I can write like a champ in short bursts, but anything over a page becomes downright remedial. Therefore, a dozen or so years later here I stand, preparing to enter the world of blog to expand my talent for brief prose. It's timely that I start my blog now as well- I just finished up a two year stint working non-profit in the education field and now I have moved onto pursuits in the wine industry. So now seems like a good time to start documenting my time of transition, and it should prove entertaining at least, because lord knows me working in the wine business is bound to illicit some scandals worth noting. Also, I may be venturing into past pursuits, as my journey in adulthood is ripe with stories to share.

Speaking of the past, I think at this juncture some background information is needed. I was born and raised for 18 years in the Tidewater region of Virginia. Tidewater is a seven-city spread nestled beautifully between half a dozen Naval bases and a healhy dose of suburban spread. It boasts no major sports teams, a plethora of tattoo parlors and more seven-elevans than people. But really, I love where I grew up. I ended up on the southern end of the spread, deadcenter in a corn field. I also spent a lot of time with my grandparents in the blue ridge mountains, where I learned to fish, milk cows, chew dip and pop a squat. I credit my time in the Shenandoah with most of my talents as person. Anyways, I went to college and my parents split and I did the usual middle class things. I learned early on that a bar was a wonderful place and the next best this was a case of beer in the back of a pickup truck. I graduated from college with an unmarketable liberal arts degree and can count on one hand the things I learned:

:I have great friends and I am lucky for that.
:Peanut Butter goes on everything.


These days, I spend a lot of time trying to figure shit out. About once a month I head to DC to see my friends in the rat race that is Northern Virginia. At some point in the nearish future, I plan on applying for grad school and the peace corps. Right now, I'm just happy. Happy to be where I am, who I am, and with the graces I've been given. So ya, this should be fun:)