"Maybe your weird is my normal? Who's to say?"-Nicki Minaj
As many of my followers know, I have had my fair share of poop stories. Until last Wednesday, these were strictly animal stories. I will now share my first (and hopefully last) human poop horror/humor story.
One of my day jobs I currently have involves teaching Zumba at several gyms. My all time favorite class to teach is my Wednesday night class at a gym that will remain nameless. The members are rambunctious, hilarious, and ready to WORK. I've been told my classes are the hardest/best workout money can buy and I really pride myself in that. I always make sure to have low and high impact options so anyone from 8 years old to 80 years old can come away and feel like they really exercised, challenged themselves, but were safe in the way they went about it. Zumba is so great because it really feels like you are having a little party, acting like a fool, and best of all it doesn't feel like a workout that you have to convince yourself you can finish and hope you don't pass out.
Yes my classes are hard, but that's why we're at the gym. To make changes and get in shape! I had a special "Kick Butt Thanksgiving Zumba Extravaganza" complete with new songs, lots and lots of sweating in preparation for the 800 cookies, pies, turkeys, potatoes, etc that we would eat the next day. I even had handmade door prizes that I had crafted myself. You can check them out here if you want: www.etsy.com/shop.eclecticgreetings
Little did I know it would go horribly wrong and I wouldn't even know that it made a turn for the worst until Thanksgiving itself.
Thanksgiving morning went really well. My boyfriend, Will and I ran a 10k and finished in a little over an hour. There was a light drizzle, but it felt AMAZING since we were ridiculously warm from not running that far in a long time. We then went home and cooked cream cheese and bacon stuffed poblano peppers and a green bean casserole. Then we made the trek, with our pup Atlas of course, to NC where Will's mom lives to eat all of the delicious food she had made. We were beyond stuffed by the time we made it home. Everyone in the house: cats, dog, and boyfriend were asleep within minutes of sitting down. I curled up with the 5th Game of Thrones book and just relaxed.
We decided to go to Target around 9 so we would miss the massive crowds and still get to shop around for some great deals. Little did I know my entire day would be changed as I walked out of the game section towards the pet section.
I ran into Chris who takes my Wednesday night class and he is super energetic with a fun personality. He is the one who informed me about the "incident". After saying hi and making small talk he leans in and in a hushed voice asks me "Do you know that someone pooped in your Zumba class yesterday?"
First of all, this is not the normal conversation topic I was expecting. Secondly, my brain had trouble processing that information. Thirdly, WHAT THE F@$&????? I was disgusted, confused, slightly amused, intrigued, disgusted again, horrified, and most of all the feeling of "no...that couldn't have happened."
But happen it did. I was 100% oblivious...not that I would have known what in the world to do if I happened to see someone poo on the floor accidentally. Let's give you some more detail. No not about the poo you weirdo, about the situation.
I had 20 people in class that night and the "perpetrator" was in the back of the class according to witnesses and hear sayers. I always teach at the front and am looking around the room constantly to check form. It never occurred to me to check the floor for rogue bowel movements. A mother and daughter duo are usually at the back almost every class and they had apparently witnessed it happen, but were too confused or horrified to do something about it, which is very reasonable. Many in the class wrote it off as "oh, there's dirt right there".
What horrifies and confuses me the most is the next few facts. 1. She pooped in the middle of a crowded room and knew it happened. 2. She didn't casually excuse herself to clean up the mess on the floor and undoubtedly elsewhere on her person. 3. A WHOLE OTHER CLASS happened in that same room right after and everyone thought it was dirt. 4. She never CLEANED IT UP. I can forgive someone for pooping on the floor if they have bowel issues. That can't be helped, but preventative measures should be taken like an adult diaper, etc. Not to clean is up is rude, unsanitary, and a slipping hazard to name barely a few of the risks without mentioning how gross the whole situation is.
I'm not the sort of person who focuses on the negative, but I had no previous socially acceptable reaction in my arsenal in which to pull from to figure out how in the heck you respond to something like that.
In short, if you have to poop, go to the bathroom immediately. Poop waits for no mortal being and it means smelly business. If you do poop accidentally, nonchalantly play it off as it being dirt on the floor and blame it on a muddy dog you may or may not have and excuse yourself and get the proper cleaning tools. That's humiliation free and won't wound any pride, plus it prevents blog posts such as these from unsuspecting Zumba instructors who never see that situation coming.
All in all, I exercised the shit out of someone. Literally. I still have no idea how to feel about that. Holy crap. Pun intended.
"The only thing worse than it raining after you wash your car, is having to poop right after you get out of the shower."--Unknown
Friday, November 28, 2014
Monday, March 31, 2014
I Am the Goat Whisperer
"Between two evils I always pick the one I never tried before"--Mae West
This time mother nature decided to throw me a curve ball. I live in Virginia Beach. Now most of you will have just pictured sandy beaches, rolling waves, a nice cold drink in your hand and a good book. That's oceanfront. That's not where I live. I live in a house that sits on 2 acres of land in pretty much the middle of nowhere. If it rains my yard turns into a giant swamp. I wish I was joking. We had light rain for about an hour and most of my yard had ankle deep standing water. Ohhhh the perks of living where the water table is at ground level. Moving on. There are several people who own horses, llamas, goats, and pigs. Some are even for sale.
My boyfriend and I were driving home and drove past a home that happened to sell goats and pigs. These goats are not just your average goats. They are escape artists and dare devils. If you're looking to rob a bank and not get caught then these are the goats for you. The house sits on a semi busy road. On the other side of the road, across from the house, are woods and a huge ditch. For the past few weeks there has been a plastic bag that has gotten itself stuck on a branch and wafts in the wind. My guess is that these escape artist goats saw that bag waving itself around invitingly and decided to break out of their pen and go get a late night snack.
This is the only picture of a goat I have. He's even trying to escape so it's pretty perfect.
The herd of 5 goats ranging in size from behemoth to aww is that a dog? Oh wow no that's a weird looking goat, made it across the street and were happily chewing away at the bag. Will and I came around the corner and being me I yelled HOLY CRAP GOATS! We pulled into the driveway and I was awkwardly excited. For some weird reason I felt that this was going to be awesome. I sent Will to ring the doorbell and tell the owners that their goats had gone on a food raid and were running amuck.
What did I do? I ran to the end of the driveway and my brain said "herd them Emma. How could this possibly go wrong?" All I could think about was getting chased like the sheep, but I still can't explain why I was so dang happy about getting to herd some goats. Maybe I was a nomad in my past life who rescued goats from warring tribes. I doubt that has ever happened in life, but that's where my brain just went so let's just go along with it for the sake of the story. I was at the end of the driveway and the thought suddenly struck me. "How in the HECK do you get goats to turn away from a delicious plastic bag, follow you across the street while not getting hit by cars?"
My answer? "1. I'm super happy there is no traffic right now. 2. Heeeeere goat goat goat. Come here goat goat goat. Oh hey you pretty goat. Come here!" Will was standing by the owners' door just looking at me like I was insane. Meanwhile I was grinning like an idiot because the goats had decided to follow me. I yelled things to Will like " Baaabe I'm a goat whisperer. They love me! Master goat herder over here. Babe tell world you're dating a goat herding extraordinaire." He wasn't as amused as I was.
In the end I coaxed the goats back to their pen, which may I add was a good 300 feet away. I was concerned at one point that they were going to try to nibble me, but my goat whispering aura must have deterred that. Every time we pass that house I yell goat goat goat! The first few times it made Will slam on the brakes and get angry at me because he thought I saw another goat in the road. It's times like these that make me love my crazy life. You just can't make this stuff up!
"I always wanted to be somebody, but not I realize I should have been more specific"--Lily Tomlin
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Dog Owners Say the Darndest Things
"Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden. Where doing nothing was not boring..it was peace."--Milan Kundera
Owning a pet does something to peoples' brains... or at least mine. Pets, especially dogs, become tiny, much more well behaved, less annoying, and adorable beyond belief children. I've realized that over the past few months of having a dog I've said some of the weirdest phrases anyone can imagine. If my house was bugged by a government agency I have a feeling that I will be on the "best of" soundtrack at their Christmas party where they just sit around and laugh at all the people having weird conversations. I know mine is up there in the weirdness factor and I'm completely fine with that.
Here's a timeline of my adoption story:
Sept 2013: I'm getting a dog when I move out of my parent's house!
Oct 2013: Man I want a dog. I'll go play with my friend's dog.
Nov 2013: I moved out. I CAN GET A DOG!!!!
Mid Nov: *Grumpy* I don't want to wait until after Christmas for a dog. My boyfriend is plotting against me.
3/4 thru Nov: I'm going to EXPLODE. I've been searching every website possible for a dog and we STILL haven't gone out to meet any.
Early Dec: dog dog dog dog dog dog, dog websites, dog pictures, dog videos
Mid Dec: WHY isn't Christmas over with yet?
Dec 25: Christmas would've been better with a dog right now.
Dec 26th, 10am: I've finally annoyed my boyfriend to the point where we can go look for one!! Va Beach SPCA here we come!
Dec 26 11am: I found the fattest ball of adorable fluff! Boyfriend really wants him. Can't. Stop. Snuggling
Dec 27th: WHY is Monday taking so long!!!!???? I want him home with us!!!
Dec 28th: Best. Day. Ever. Little man is home with us!
This is what he looked like when we got him! 8lbs and 8 weeks old!
Atlas and Will on the day he graduated puppy training!
Alrighty. That's enough back story for now. Over the past few months I've made a list of the weird things I've found myself saying not once, but multiple times. Just when I thought I couldn't get any weirder, life laughed at me and gave me quite possibly the only dog as weird as I am. I hope you enjoy laughing at these/me as much as I have.
Atlas had a problem with fleas biting his butt, however we couldn't do anything about it because the way flea medicine works is you have to get bitten so the fleas ingest the toxic stuff and then die. So you're left with several really itchy bumps. For about a month Atlas would viciously attack his butt and
chew on it non stop unless you dragged his head away. Waking up to a dog on your pillow with you is sweet. Waking up to your dog sitting on you pillow with his butt propped up against your face so he can get better leverage for chewing on it is not so sweet... After a few nights of this I called the vet and they said I could put anti itch cream on him. This in theory sounds easy. Holding my dog still for any time over .1 seconds is not. Will had to pick him up and get him in a bear hug. However, my dog has a massive butt. He can wiggle that thing around even when you hold him down. For those of you who have never put anti itch cream in the buttocks area of your dog, consider yourselves lucky. Yelling "HOLD STILL I need to rub this cream on your butt" at the top of your lungs is not effective. I got the cream on the spots he needed it and on a bunch of other places...like his stomach, my face, my hair, my boyfriend's arm, the table, the chair, and who knows where else.
Atlas hates the bath. He LOVES the bathroom and will always want to hang out and stare at you no matter what you're doing in there. He will even hang over the edge of the bathtub to watch you shower. However, the second it is his turn to get in...all hell breaks loose. First he looks at you with a look that can only say "Sh*t that bath isn't for me right?" Then comes the "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO you don't love me. Don't put me in there. I'll never roll my face in deer poop again" (yes that actually happened...twice). Shortly after that comes the immobilizing terror when we start to get him wet. He continues to try and crawl out of the tub, cry, scream, and shake. We have no idea why he gets so upset, but it's pretty much a universal dog theme. I've found myself saying "Yes I know. That bath is murdering you. You're melting. I'm a horrible person for getting you clean." I'm pretty sure most people don't say that to their children... much less their pets.
Atlas LOVES socks and underwear. He loves eating them more than anything. Doing laundry is a nightmare. He is constantly running off with random pieces of clothing and drooling as much as he possibly can on them. I've gotten socks and underwear back that are so soaked with dog spit that I have to wash them again. I've run after him yelling "PUT DOWN MY UNDERWEAR RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN. SPIT MY UNDERWEAR OUT NOW." Just a typical laundry day!
I caught him like this after turning around to fold something.
stop licking my lotion off, thanks for licking all the shower water off me. this towel was useless.
Whenever I take a shower Atlas insists on being in the bathroom. If he doesn't stare at me the entire time he waits for me to get out of the shower and starts licking off the water from my feet and calves. This is a typical conversation:
Atlas: Wow you're soaking wet. Here let me help you dry off. *licks feet*
Me: Yes thank you. I've got this towel here, but it was obviously useless....
If I put lotion on this is what happens:
Atlas: YUM puppy candy!
Me: No. Stop it! Stop licking all of my lotion off
Atlas: *Stares at me with his tongue out* Here's a similar picture:
Me: Don't look at me like I'm taking your favorite toy away from you...
Most people say "get off the table" to cats. My weirdo dog likes to stand on coffee tables. ALL THE TIME. Here's proof:
"DEER POOP IS NOT FOR PUPPIES. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT ROLLING YOUR FACE IN IT. GET YOUR FACE AWAY FROM THAT. NOOOOOOOOO"
I was working on an archaeological site that had a ridiculous amount of deer poop. I got to take Atlas and he had the time of his life running around in the woods. Unfortunately that meant he discovered deer poop for the first time. His first instinct was to rub his face in a giant pile. Of course that was the day I had to have him sit in my lap on the 45 drive back to my parent's house (my dad was driving). He kept trying to snuggle me with his face and I kept trying to keep him at arm's length so I wouldn't get poop on me. My Dad had a grand time laughing at me the whole way home.
Atlas really likes to punch things. He swings his paw up and smacks it down usually on someone's face. He's playing and it's oddly cute to me, but it hurts. My cat used to beat him up when he was smaller than she was so he would know who was boss and wouldn't eat her later on. Lately, he has really enjoyed returning the favor by going up to her when she's sleeping or relaxing and step on her face or just slap her in the face. Obviously she fights him back and they battle. Secretly I know they love it and are just playing, but it is really funny to just watch him go BAM got you and run away! I've said "stop punching the kitty" enough times now that Atlas actually knows what it means...
Here he is punching her.
Our cat, Natasha, got sick of Atlas punching her in her sleep so she plotted revenge. He was asleep behind the couch and I was getting up to get a glass of water. I saw her slink off the ping pong table and approach Atlas. I knew this was going to be worth seeing so I just stood there. She pounced on Atlas's back and held on for dear life as he jumped up and started running. She held on for a good 5 feet and then ran away. Atlas was clearly confused. I about died laughing and could only yell to Will "Baaaaabe! The cat just rode Atlas like a pony!" I seriously doubt other pet owners have said that.
One of Atlas's favorite spots to lay is with his butt on someone's chest with the danger zone facing someone's face. He is constantly wiggling his butt into position throughout the night. It's not a fun realization to try and snuggle with something you think is puppy back, but in reality is puppy butt. I cannot even tell you how much times we've said "does your butt really have to go there?"
i know the dead squirrel smells amazing but let's not eat that. DONT EAT THAT
All 3 of us were out on a walk recently and came across a very flat and rigid and very dead squirrel. Naturally Atlas wanted to sniff, lick, roll on, etc the squirrel. I panicked and just yelled (in public with lots of people around "Nooooo I know the dead squirrel smells amazing, but PLEASE don't eat that. GET AWAY." Needless to say I got some funny looks from the people around me and a very grumpy look from my dog who obviously thought I was a monster for not letting him roll all around in essence of dead squirrel.
Sadly, Atlas is becoming a man. He has a squeaky toy that is literally the same size he is. He loves throwing it around and chasing it. Obviously their relationship took a more serious turn as I was working out the other day. I turned around to see what he was doing and to my horror he was humping his moose. He had never humped something before so I just stood there in a panicked shock. I can't tell him no since it's natural. He was GOING AT IT. He humped it so hard he was scooting himself around the floor. I immediately called my boyfriend in a state of panic and woe. All I could think to say was "Our puppy is a moose molester!!!"
"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself" --Josh Billings
Owning a pet does something to peoples' brains... or at least mine. Pets, especially dogs, become tiny, much more well behaved, less annoying, and adorable beyond belief children. I've realized that over the past few months of having a dog I've said some of the weirdest phrases anyone can imagine. If my house was bugged by a government agency I have a feeling that I will be on the "best of" soundtrack at their Christmas party where they just sit around and laugh at all the people having weird conversations. I know mine is up there in the weirdness factor and I'm completely fine with that.
Here's a timeline of my adoption story:
Sept 2013: I'm getting a dog when I move out of my parent's house!
Oct 2013: Man I want a dog. I'll go play with my friend's dog.
Nov 2013: I moved out. I CAN GET A DOG!!!!
Mid Nov: *Grumpy* I don't want to wait until after Christmas for a dog. My boyfriend is plotting against me.
3/4 thru Nov: I'm going to EXPLODE. I've been searching every website possible for a dog and we STILL haven't gone out to meet any.
Early Dec: dog dog dog dog dog dog, dog websites, dog pictures, dog videos
Mid Dec: WHY isn't Christmas over with yet?
Dec 25: Christmas would've been better with a dog right now.
Dec 26th, 10am: I've finally annoyed my boyfriend to the point where we can go look for one!! Va Beach SPCA here we come!
Dec 26 11am: I found the fattest ball of adorable fluff! Boyfriend really wants him. Can't. Stop. Snuggling
Dec 27th: WHY is Monday taking so long!!!!???? I want him home with us!!!
Dec 28th: Best. Day. Ever. Little man is home with us!
This is what he looked like when we got him! 8lbs and 8 weeks old!
Atlas is now 5 months and 1 week old and weighs 28lbs. Here's he is today!
Alrighty. That's enough back story for now. Over the past few months I've made a list of the weird things I've found myself saying not once, but multiple times. Just when I thought I couldn't get any weirder, life laughed at me and gave me quite possibly the only dog as weird as I am. I hope you enjoy laughing at these/me as much as I have.
Atlas had a problem with fleas biting his butt, however we couldn't do anything about it because the way flea medicine works is you have to get bitten so the fleas ingest the toxic stuff and then die. So you're left with several really itchy bumps. For about a month Atlas would viciously attack his butt and
chew on it non stop unless you dragged his head away. Waking up to a dog on your pillow with you is sweet. Waking up to your dog sitting on you pillow with his butt propped up against your face so he can get better leverage for chewing on it is not so sweet... After a few nights of this I called the vet and they said I could put anti itch cream on him. This in theory sounds easy. Holding my dog still for any time over .1 seconds is not. Will had to pick him up and get him in a bear hug. However, my dog has a massive butt. He can wiggle that thing around even when you hold him down. For those of you who have never put anti itch cream in the buttocks area of your dog, consider yourselves lucky. Yelling "HOLD STILL I need to rub this cream on your butt" at the top of your lungs is not effective. I got the cream on the spots he needed it and on a bunch of other places...like his stomach, my face, my hair, my boyfriend's arm, the table, the chair, and who knows where else.
Atlas hates the bath. He LOVES the bathroom and will always want to hang out and stare at you no matter what you're doing in there. He will even hang over the edge of the bathtub to watch you shower. However, the second it is his turn to get in...all hell breaks loose. First he looks at you with a look that can only say "Sh*t that bath isn't for me right?" Then comes the "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO you don't love me. Don't put me in there. I'll never roll my face in deer poop again" (yes that actually happened...twice). Shortly after that comes the immobilizing terror when we start to get him wet. He continues to try and crawl out of the tub, cry, scream, and shake. We have no idea why he gets so upset, but it's pretty much a universal dog theme. I've found myself saying "Yes I know. That bath is murdering you. You're melting. I'm a horrible person for getting you clean." I'm pretty sure most people don't say that to their children... much less their pets.
Atlas LOVES socks and underwear. He loves eating them more than anything. Doing laundry is a nightmare. He is constantly running off with random pieces of clothing and drooling as much as he possibly can on them. I've gotten socks and underwear back that are so soaked with dog spit that I have to wash them again. I've run after him yelling "PUT DOWN MY UNDERWEAR RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN. SPIT MY UNDERWEAR OUT NOW." Just a typical laundry day!
I caught him like this after turning around to fold something. stop licking my lotion off, thanks for licking all the shower water off me. this towel was useless.
Whenever I take a shower Atlas insists on being in the bathroom. If he doesn't stare at me the entire time he waits for me to get out of the shower and starts licking off the water from my feet and calves. This is a typical conversation:
Atlas: Wow you're soaking wet. Here let me help you dry off. *licks feet*
Me: Yes thank you. I've got this towel here, but it was obviously useless....
If I put lotion on this is what happens:
Atlas: YUM puppy candy!
Me: No. Stop it! Stop licking all of my lotion off
Atlas: *Stares at me with his tongue out* Here's a similar picture:
Me: Don't look at me like I'm taking your favorite toy away from you...
Most people say "get off the table" to cats. My weirdo dog likes to stand on coffee tables. ALL THE TIME. Here's proof:
"DEER POOP IS NOT FOR PUPPIES. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT ROLLING YOUR FACE IN IT. GET YOUR FACE AWAY FROM THAT. NOOOOOOOOO"
I was working on an archaeological site that had a ridiculous amount of deer poop. I got to take Atlas and he had the time of his life running around in the woods. Unfortunately that meant he discovered deer poop for the first time. His first instinct was to rub his face in a giant pile. Of course that was the day I had to have him sit in my lap on the 45 drive back to my parent's house (my dad was driving). He kept trying to snuggle me with his face and I kept trying to keep him at arm's length so I wouldn't get poop on me. My Dad had a grand time laughing at me the whole way home.
Atlas really likes to punch things. He swings his paw up and smacks it down usually on someone's face. He's playing and it's oddly cute to me, but it hurts. My cat used to beat him up when he was smaller than she was so he would know who was boss and wouldn't eat her later on. Lately, he has really enjoyed returning the favor by going up to her when she's sleeping or relaxing and step on her face or just slap her in the face. Obviously she fights him back and they battle. Secretly I know they love it and are just playing, but it is really funny to just watch him go BAM got you and run away! I've said "stop punching the kitty" enough times now that Atlas actually knows what it means...
Here he is punching her.Our cat, Natasha, got sick of Atlas punching her in her sleep so she plotted revenge. He was asleep behind the couch and I was getting up to get a glass of water. I saw her slink off the ping pong table and approach Atlas. I knew this was going to be worth seeing so I just stood there. She pounced on Atlas's back and held on for dear life as he jumped up and started running. She held on for a good 5 feet and then ran away. Atlas was clearly confused. I about died laughing and could only yell to Will "Baaaaabe! The cat just rode Atlas like a pony!" I seriously doubt other pet owners have said that.
One of Atlas's favorite spots to lay is with his butt on someone's chest with the danger zone facing someone's face. He is constantly wiggling his butt into position throughout the night. It's not a fun realization to try and snuggle with something you think is puppy back, but in reality is puppy butt. I cannot even tell you how much times we've said "does your butt really have to go there?"
i know the dead squirrel smells amazing but let's not eat that. DONT EAT THAT
All 3 of us were out on a walk recently and came across a very flat and rigid and very dead squirrel. Naturally Atlas wanted to sniff, lick, roll on, etc the squirrel. I panicked and just yelled (in public with lots of people around "Nooooo I know the dead squirrel smells amazing, but PLEASE don't eat that. GET AWAY." Needless to say I got some funny looks from the people around me and a very grumpy look from my dog who obviously thought I was a monster for not letting him roll all around in essence of dead squirrel.
Sadly, Atlas is becoming a man. He has a squeaky toy that is literally the same size he is. He loves throwing it around and chasing it. Obviously their relationship took a more serious turn as I was working out the other day. I turned around to see what he was doing and to my horror he was humping his moose. He had never humped something before so I just stood there in a panicked shock. I can't tell him no since it's natural. He was GOING AT IT. He humped it so hard he was scooting himself around the floor. I immediately called my boyfriend in a state of panic and woe. All I could think to say was "Our puppy is a moose molester!!!"
"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself" --Josh Billings
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Pirate Cow Doesn't Approve
"The average man is a conformist, accepting miseries and disasters with the stoicism of a cow standing in the rain.
Some people lay awake at night dreaming of what cool super powers they wish they had. Me? Not so much. I wonder why in the heck I was cursed with the weirdest super power possible. I am a cow magnet. How that is useful in any facet of my life except for interesting blogging I might never know. Yes, you read that correctly. If there is a cow in a 50 mile radius of me its ears perk up, it moos to alert the other cows, they get together in a huddle and plot how to best mess with me. It's true. Don't believe me? Read my other posts about animals. I'm also a sheep magnet, but that story has already been written.
My most recent cow encounter was slightly more threatening. It involved very hungry herbivores, a very unhelpful father, a farmer with a horrible sense of humor or a flare for the dramatic, and me. Poor, innocent me. It all began in a city named Emporia. We surveyed a field for a few hours then realized we needed to survey a different field as well. We trudged through the woods and ended up in a sea of cow pies (turds for those unfamiliar with the term) with not a cow in sight. Of course it wouldn't stay that way. As soon as we located the area in which we were going to dig a few holes (in order to test for anything significant) it happened.
I swear cows have a 6th sense and know when I'm around. It turns out the cows were very hungry and a farmer had just plopped a giant bale of hay in the field. Did he do it in the field where the cows were grazing out of sight? No. He did not. Did the put it in the adjacent field so the cows would not need to feel the need to scare the humans to death? No. He did not. Where did the farmer put the hay? 100 feet away from me. Where was I? I was in between the ONLY fence opening and the delicious hay the cows desperately wanted.
Oh look cows in the distance. Aren't they nice looking?
Umm... you guys got over here really fast. PLEASE stop screaming your war cries. As a girl who grew up in suburbia I am not used to farm animals and I have no idea how to distinguish a menacing cow from a regular mild tempered cow. All I could think about was how I get angry when I'm hungry and how an animal 5x my size must feel when a person who regularly eats beef and really enjoys it stands in their way. My Dad on the other hand grew up on a farm and had frequent cow encounters, therefore he had a built in meter of cow mood judgement that he for some reason never taught me. Jerk.
I was calmly digging my hole in the ground enjoying the scenery and how nice the day had become. This all changed in an instant. By some other what I can only call a 7th sense the cows became fully alert and began a stampede towards me. Yes I do mean stampede. Cows can run alarmingly fast. When over ten 500pounds hungry/angry animals start to yell at the top of their lungs and run as fast as their knobby kneed legs can take them RIGHT AT YOU... yes you a 110 pound red headed person armed only with a shovel and a mean roundhouse kick. I did my best to stay calm, really I did. My voice was slightly high as I said "Dad....DAD...they're coming right at us."
Warning: Objects in picture are closer than they appearMy Dad grunted and barely even gave the stampede a second glance. I can only assume this was because he was deaf. I have never heard a chorus of 10 plus cows before, but it was no library appropriate noise. This was something that rivaled a monster truck show or major sporting event. I began to back away and grip my shovel slightly more tightly. I also wished it wasn't older than I was. In my head I tried to plan out a scenario of where I could run, but my options were electric fence or sprint across fields for long distances while carrying a large man who had no idea why I was running. This was all in my head of course.
I chose the HOLY CRAP DAD WHAT DO I DO? Why? Because I was frozen. I had stared into the eyes of the leader. The feared Pirate Cow. Known only in legend, but never before seen until now...at least by those who lived to tell the tale. I even managed to snap a picture. I can only imagine that he let me do this because no self respecting leader pirate cow is afraid of cameras or small fake red heads wielding shovels in a very non-ninja like manner.
Note the eye patch...
Luckily the war cries had stopped by now. We were in a stand off. I've never been in a stand off with roughly a dozen cattle, but it was an interesting experience. I would stare, one would get bored, another would stamp its feet, one would step forward and challenge me with its giant eyes. I stared back with what I hoped was a look that oozed power and dominance, but I doubt that succeeded. My Dad quickly became grumpy and decided that having a staring contest instead of digging holes was not productive.
He turned around and raised both arms and yelled at the cow standing in front of pirate cow in the picture above, which I assume was the body guard. This cow was scared of the moustached man and responded by blowing boogers out of his nose. Interesting defense mechanism, but I digress. The second my Dad's back was turned the cows all stared at me. Not one. Not two. Every. Single. One turned their heads slowly and stared right at me. I am not lying or exaggerating.
This is how I felt. A combo of this:
And this:
My Dad was blissfully ignorant of the sudden developments. I attempted to dig holes and keep an eye on the cows who were clearly plotting my death. The edged slightly closer every time I turned my back and it was disconcerting to see them larger and larger each time I looked back. We finally finished our holes, which luckily weren't large enough for the cows to hide my body in. That might seem like an extreme reaction, but hunger does bad things to you as Snickers showed thru their hilarious series of commercials.
My Dad thought it was hilarious that I was very agitated over a group of cows who acted angelic when he looked at them. I briskly walked toward the fence as the cows grouped behind me and matched my pace as they headed for the bale of hay aka dinner. Did I mention this bale of hay was directly in the path to the car? I'm just lucky I guess.
The moral of the story? Don't mess with hungry cows. Don't rely on farm bred fathers to save you from pirate cows that are trying to plot your death. Watch out for projectile boogers from cow noses. It's a real threat.
"Moo may represent and idea, but only the cow knows." --Mason Cooley
Thursday, October 24, 2013
If I could talk to spiders...
"Courage is being scared to death...and saddling up anyway."--John Wayne
For reasons such as hairy bodies, way too many eyes, their creepy skulking walk, and the terror they instill in millions of people, I really don't like spiders. They are horrifying on every level to me. Yes I know they are great for the ecosystem and eat bugs I don't want in my house, but do they have to do the following things? Repeatedly?
1. Creep up on me in the shower and make me slip and almost die
2. Hide in places where I will put my hands and not notice them until I am 2mm away from touching them
3. Appear in my bathroom and walk in a hasty manner towards me when I am indisposed on the toilet and unable to move.
4. Show themselves to me right as I am going to bed and then disappear so I have nightmares and constantly think I'm being crawled on by said creepy creature.
5. Stare and unexpectedly launch themselves at me then retreat like it's a game.
For those poor people who know what I am talking about...I'm sorry. For those of you laughing at our pain... go away. It's scary, irrational, and very traumatic.
However, I feel like this could all be changed positively. What if we could talk to spiders? It would be so much better. It would be more like having a super awkward friend that doesn't know how to interact socially instead of a serial killer hanging out in your home.
Here's how I imagine it would go in the above situations.
1. Spider: HEEEEEEEEYYYYYY man I'm glad you turned the shower on I need to rinse off.
Me: WOAH there... this is really a one person job. No offense, but get out.
Spider: How about I just stay in this corner and soak up the steam. I promise I won't be creepy
Me: Okay but can you scoot over? I don't think you want to get swept into the water and drown.
Spider: Thanks for looking out for me. Have a great shower.
See? So much more civilized than the usual " OH &^%^%##$#^&**()(%$#$#%^ SPIDER HOW DO I DROWN IT WITHOUT IT GOING BY MY FEET? Okay I'll just stand on the edges and hope I don't sli.. oh goodness I slipped... where's the spider? Ew it's watching me. What a creep. I hope it doesn't come closer. I don't want to take a shower while watching it the whole time...
2. Me: I'm just going to reach into this bucket to get a sponge to wash my car.. OH GOD what is that?
Spider: Hey there. I'm just guarding the sponges from other bugs you don't like. Sorry if I scared you.
Me: How kind of you! Can you move over to the other sponge so I can use this one? Thanks
Spider: No problem
Me: I hope you catch plenty of food you faithful guardian of sponges. You're awesome.
Instead of this happening I usually scream and run a few feet away, look around for something long enough to smack the spider without fear of it jumping on me or running right at me immediately.
3. Me: Yay! Time to read this magazine
Spider: HEY! How's it going. That looks cool! Can I read it too?
Me: Hey man. Look this is sort of a personal moment in case you didn't notice...
Spider: Woah sorry I had no idea.
Me: No worries. I'll leave the magazine on the floor so you can read it later.
Spider: You're the best human ever.
In reality this is a terrifying event. Being trapped while being vulnerable on a toilet is never graceful or fun. It's humiliating and horrifying. There's never anything adequate to whack a spider with and there is always the fear it will crawl up the toilet and onto you while you're immobile. Putting your feet up and waving a magazine around like a crazy person while spraying febreeze like it's a bug killer is usually the scenario that happens. Inner screaming is common as well.
4. Me: Time for bed! I'm so tired! OH GOD IS THAT A SPIDER? *wide awake*
Spider: Hey! It's okay. I just wanted to escort you to bed. I ate a mean looking bug earlier and wanted to make sure you were safe.
Me: Well I feel like a jerk. It's okay. Hey... where did you go?
Spider: Sorry had to take care of another bug who was acting out. Want a bedtime story?
Me: Yeah that would be great. Thanks for protecting me. Just don't come on my bed...
Spider: No it's cool. That's your space.
This usually goes something like this: SPIDER. WHAT DO I DO. DAAAAAAAAAAD. HELP. HELP HELP HELP. THERE IS A SPIDER. there was a spider... NOOOOOO where did it go? It conveniently reveals itself after every has gone to bed grumpy that I woke them up for an invisible spider.
5. Me: I'm just going to walk down this hallway.. AHH what the heck?
Spider: HEY. Don't come down here it's not safe.
Me: Okay thanks for letting me know, but you didn't have to keep jumping at me. It's scary.
Spider: Sorry, but I know how much you hate cockroaches and there's a massive one over here. My brother is fighting him, but it's getting intense. Stay back.
Me: Alright I will. I appreciate the help.
If we could communicate with the things that terrify us I feel like the world would be a much less scary place. Or we could at least here them coming and voice our fears and angry rants to them instead of looking like we're nuts by jumping around and avoiding spiders and throwing random inanimate objects at tiny creatures that it makes no sense to fear... I'm very guilty of this and I'm sure random people get a good laugh at my expense. It's just like watching people fend of flies coming at their faces or people waving off bees. It looks like they are fighting invisible beings from a distance, but up close they are waging an intense war. Be nice to these people.
PS. This has nothing to do with spiders, but I wanted to share just how dedicated I am to writing this blog. My previous post about things that are acceptable to do as cats, but not as humans is very relevant right now. I am at Will's house again with the night terror herself, Natasha (the cat). She has been "helping" me write this post and just now decided to walk all over my computer as I was typing and then proceeded to EAT my audition lines for a film. She then had the nerve to FART in my FACE and then stare at me until I smelled it. This cat has it out for me...She's still eating my papers...
"When you're scared, when you're hanging on, when life is hurting you, then you're going to see what you're really made of."--Sylvester Stallone
For reasons such as hairy bodies, way too many eyes, their creepy skulking walk, and the terror they instill in millions of people, I really don't like spiders. They are horrifying on every level to me. Yes I know they are great for the ecosystem and eat bugs I don't want in my house, but do they have to do the following things? Repeatedly?
1. Creep up on me in the shower and make me slip and almost die
2. Hide in places where I will put my hands and not notice them until I am 2mm away from touching them
3. Appear in my bathroom and walk in a hasty manner towards me when I am indisposed on the toilet and unable to move.
4. Show themselves to me right as I am going to bed and then disappear so I have nightmares and constantly think I'm being crawled on by said creepy creature.
5. Stare and unexpectedly launch themselves at me then retreat like it's a game.
For those poor people who know what I am talking about...I'm sorry. For those of you laughing at our pain... go away. It's scary, irrational, and very traumatic.
However, I feel like this could all be changed positively. What if we could talk to spiders? It would be so much better. It would be more like having a super awkward friend that doesn't know how to interact socially instead of a serial killer hanging out in your home.
Here's how I imagine it would go in the above situations.
1. Spider: HEEEEEEEEYYYYYY man I'm glad you turned the shower on I need to rinse off.
Me: WOAH there... this is really a one person job. No offense, but get out.
Spider: How about I just stay in this corner and soak up the steam. I promise I won't be creepy
Me: Okay but can you scoot over? I don't think you want to get swept into the water and drown.
Spider: Thanks for looking out for me. Have a great shower.
See? So much more civilized than the usual " OH &^%^%##$#^&**()(%$#$#%^ SPIDER HOW DO I DROWN IT WITHOUT IT GOING BY MY FEET? Okay I'll just stand on the edges and hope I don't sli.. oh goodness I slipped... where's the spider? Ew it's watching me. What a creep. I hope it doesn't come closer. I don't want to take a shower while watching it the whole time...
2. Me: I'm just going to reach into this bucket to get a sponge to wash my car.. OH GOD what is that?
Spider: Hey there. I'm just guarding the sponges from other bugs you don't like. Sorry if I scared you.
Me: How kind of you! Can you move over to the other sponge so I can use this one? Thanks
Spider: No problem
Me: I hope you catch plenty of food you faithful guardian of sponges. You're awesome.
Instead of this happening I usually scream and run a few feet away, look around for something long enough to smack the spider without fear of it jumping on me or running right at me immediately.
3. Me: Yay! Time to read this magazine
Spider: HEY! How's it going. That looks cool! Can I read it too?
Me: Hey man. Look this is sort of a personal moment in case you didn't notice...
Spider: Woah sorry I had no idea.
Me: No worries. I'll leave the magazine on the floor so you can read it later.
Spider: You're the best human ever.
In reality this is a terrifying event. Being trapped while being vulnerable on a toilet is never graceful or fun. It's humiliating and horrifying. There's never anything adequate to whack a spider with and there is always the fear it will crawl up the toilet and onto you while you're immobile. Putting your feet up and waving a magazine around like a crazy person while spraying febreeze like it's a bug killer is usually the scenario that happens. Inner screaming is common as well.
4. Me: Time for bed! I'm so tired! OH GOD IS THAT A SPIDER? *wide awake*
Spider: Hey! It's okay. I just wanted to escort you to bed. I ate a mean looking bug earlier and wanted to make sure you were safe.
Me: Well I feel like a jerk. It's okay. Hey... where did you go?
Spider: Sorry had to take care of another bug who was acting out. Want a bedtime story?
Me: Yeah that would be great. Thanks for protecting me. Just don't come on my bed...
Spider: No it's cool. That's your space.
This usually goes something like this: SPIDER. WHAT DO I DO. DAAAAAAAAAAD. HELP. HELP HELP HELP. THERE IS A SPIDER. there was a spider... NOOOOOO where did it go? It conveniently reveals itself after every has gone to bed grumpy that I woke them up for an invisible spider.
5. Me: I'm just going to walk down this hallway.. AHH what the heck?
Spider: HEY. Don't come down here it's not safe.
Me: Okay thanks for letting me know, but you didn't have to keep jumping at me. It's scary.
Spider: Sorry, but I know how much you hate cockroaches and there's a massive one over here. My brother is fighting him, but it's getting intense. Stay back.
Me: Alright I will. I appreciate the help.
If we could communicate with the things that terrify us I feel like the world would be a much less scary place. Or we could at least here them coming and voice our fears and angry rants to them instead of looking like we're nuts by jumping around and avoiding spiders and throwing random inanimate objects at tiny creatures that it makes no sense to fear... I'm very guilty of this and I'm sure random people get a good laugh at my expense. It's just like watching people fend of flies coming at their faces or people waving off bees. It looks like they are fighting invisible beings from a distance, but up close they are waging an intense war. Be nice to these people.
PS. This has nothing to do with spiders, but I wanted to share just how dedicated I am to writing this blog. My previous post about things that are acceptable to do as cats, but not as humans is very relevant right now. I am at Will's house again with the night terror herself, Natasha (the cat). She has been "helping" me write this post and just now decided to walk all over my computer as I was typing and then proceeded to EAT my audition lines for a film. She then had the nerve to FART in my FACE and then stare at me until I smelled it. This cat has it out for me...She's still eating my papers...
"When you're scared, when you're hanging on, when life is hurting you, then you're going to see what you're really made of."--Sylvester Stallone
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
I hope no one is eating and reading this
"I am confident that, in the end, common sense and justice will prevail. I'm an optimist, brought up on the belief that if you wait to the end of the story, you get to see good people live happily ever after." --Cat Stevens
That has to sound much cooler than what happened. I had a very exciting morning of working out, and going to panera to buy lunch. Hopefully you noted the sarcasm... I recently got into a 4 car pile up (not my fault and yes I'm okay) so I've been driving very carefully. Will's house is on a street where the traffic is 55mph. I slowed down gradually to turn into his driveway the way normal people would. Apparently the guy driving the car 2 cars behind me wanted me to drive into the driveway like I was a stunt driver for fast and furious. He slammed on his brakes, which caused the motorcyclist behind me to slam on his brakes and go into a skid.
Luckily he slid into the ditch in the front yard, was wearing a helmet, and didn't break any bones. All of this happened in about 2 seconds. I look up from picking up my things from the car and see it happen. I immediately ask if he is okay, and tell him to put the bike in my yard and come inside for me to clean him up.
After about 50 "yes ma'am and thank you ma'am" statements I managed to convince him that he was bleeding and hurt enough to need first aid. He apparently hadn't noticed the hole in his knee or the fact that his palm was missing a layer of skin. Luckily I had to learn first aid when I became a scuba dive master. This is one of the few times I've had to use it and I was extremely glad I could at least help a little. Since I didn't have gloves I turned on the faucet for him and made him wash himself off and applied towels to his wounds and neosporin to his superficial wounds. He had scraped off skin on his palm, fingertips, ripped a few nails off, and scraped his elbow quite a bit. Those were all minor so I wasn't concerned. I noticed his knee later and he definitely needed stitches. What did he say in response? "I'll get some superglue and a butterfly bandaid and it'll be fine." All I could do was stare at him with a look of disbelief and didn't push it.
At this point his adrenaline was rushing like crazy and he was sweating. He just gave me a look of desperation and asked if he could lay on the dining room floor. I couldn't really object so down he went. It was apparently much cooler.
He was having trouble holding all of the towels on his wounds to stop the bleeding and to keep them from getting potentially exposed to infection or dirt. This being a house with 3 navy guys in it I knew there was a slim chance there was a bandaid much less something to bandage him up with. The only reason neosporin was in the house was because Will bashed his head at work and I forced him to put something on it. He complained to much about hydrogen peroxide so I made sure he did something to prevent infection.
By this time I was starving. I'd delayed my lunch by about 30 minutes and anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE lunch...and food in general. I get grumpy when I haven't eaten. So after seeing him was blood and pick bits of skin off himself I causally munched on my sandwich and soup. No I'm not disgusting I'm just really into crime shows and blood and gore don't bother me. Vomit near me and I'll run in the other direction. I hope no one is eating and reading this. Maybe I'll title this post something along those lines so at least I warned you. Anyway, the guy looked at me eating and says "You must be one heck of a weird girl if you can eat after seeing blood." My reply? "Thank you".
I momentarily turned into a mother and told him that he was not allowed to continue bleeding openly onto paper towels and that I was going to attempt to find a makeshift bandage to hold the towels on to stop the bleeding with applied pressure. What was my choice for bandaging? Saran wrap. Yes I did indeed saran wrap a navy seaman. He left the house on his ride home with a saran wrapped knee, elbow, and palm. Thank you kitchen supplies for moonlighting as first aid materials. When in doubt, improvise! Take another look at the picture to see my handy work.
I've never met a person more grateful for me wrapping him in kitchen materials. He thanked me about a dozen times and when he came back to pick up his bike he thanked Will for me helping him. It's nice to know that although that guy's day was ruined, but I was able to help him. It's even nicer to help someone who was so appreciative and genuinely nice. Good people are still out there :) My good deed for the week has been accomplished!
"In the final analysis, the question of why bad things happen to good people transmutes itself into some very different questions, no longer asking why something happened, but asking how we will respond, what we intend to do now that it happened." --Pierre Tielhard de Chardin
That has to sound much cooler than what happened. I had a very exciting morning of working out, and going to panera to buy lunch. Hopefully you noted the sarcasm... I recently got into a 4 car pile up (not my fault and yes I'm okay) so I've been driving very carefully. Will's house is on a street where the traffic is 55mph. I slowed down gradually to turn into his driveway the way normal people would. Apparently the guy driving the car 2 cars behind me wanted me to drive into the driveway like I was a stunt driver for fast and furious. He slammed on his brakes, which caused the motorcyclist behind me to slam on his brakes and go into a skid.
Luckily he slid into the ditch in the front yard, was wearing a helmet, and didn't break any bones. All of this happened in about 2 seconds. I look up from picking up my things from the car and see it happen. I immediately ask if he is okay, and tell him to put the bike in my yard and come inside for me to clean him up.
After about 50 "yes ma'am and thank you ma'am" statements I managed to convince him that he was bleeding and hurt enough to need first aid. He apparently hadn't noticed the hole in his knee or the fact that his palm was missing a layer of skin. Luckily I had to learn first aid when I became a scuba dive master. This is one of the few times I've had to use it and I was extremely glad I could at least help a little. Since I didn't have gloves I turned on the faucet for him and made him wash himself off and applied towels to his wounds and neosporin to his superficial wounds. He had scraped off skin on his palm, fingertips, ripped a few nails off, and scraped his elbow quite a bit. Those were all minor so I wasn't concerned. I noticed his knee later and he definitely needed stitches. What did he say in response? "I'll get some superglue and a butterfly bandaid and it'll be fine." All I could do was stare at him with a look of disbelief and didn't push it.
At this point his adrenaline was rushing like crazy and he was sweating. He just gave me a look of desperation and asked if he could lay on the dining room floor. I couldn't really object so down he went. It was apparently much cooler.
He was having trouble holding all of the towels on his wounds to stop the bleeding and to keep them from getting potentially exposed to infection or dirt. This being a house with 3 navy guys in it I knew there was a slim chance there was a bandaid much less something to bandage him up with. The only reason neosporin was in the house was because Will bashed his head at work and I forced him to put something on it. He complained to much about hydrogen peroxide so I made sure he did something to prevent infection.
By this time I was starving. I'd delayed my lunch by about 30 minutes and anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE lunch...and food in general. I get grumpy when I haven't eaten. So after seeing him was blood and pick bits of skin off himself I causally munched on my sandwich and soup. No I'm not disgusting I'm just really into crime shows and blood and gore don't bother me. Vomit near me and I'll run in the other direction. I hope no one is eating and reading this. Maybe I'll title this post something along those lines so at least I warned you. Anyway, the guy looked at me eating and says "You must be one heck of a weird girl if you can eat after seeing blood." My reply? "Thank you".
I momentarily turned into a mother and told him that he was not allowed to continue bleeding openly onto paper towels and that I was going to attempt to find a makeshift bandage to hold the towels on to stop the bleeding with applied pressure. What was my choice for bandaging? Saran wrap. Yes I did indeed saran wrap a navy seaman. He left the house on his ride home with a saran wrapped knee, elbow, and palm. Thank you kitchen supplies for moonlighting as first aid materials. When in doubt, improvise! Take another look at the picture to see my handy work.
I've never met a person more grateful for me wrapping him in kitchen materials. He thanked me about a dozen times and when he came back to pick up his bike he thanked Will for me helping him. It's nice to know that although that guy's day was ruined, but I was able to help him. It's even nicer to help someone who was so appreciative and genuinely nice. Good people are still out there :) My good deed for the week has been accomplished!
"In the final analysis, the question of why bad things happen to good people transmutes itself into some very different questions, no longer asking why something happened, but asking how we will respond, what we intend to do now that it happened." --Pierre Tielhard de Chardin
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Grown Man vs Bat
"But I love being scared. I think you're brave only when you do things that scare you." --Ginnifer Goodwin
There comes a time in every man's life when he must defend himself against vicious creatures of the wild. Most people expect to find these creatures outside of their homes. The most terrifying and effective creature attacks are ones that come from within our comfort zones. These are particularly effective when coming from your clothes rack as you prepare for bed. This creature, which happens to be a bat, knew this and also knew that this man, we shall call him Bob, was absolutely horrified of bats and would turn into a 5 year old girl when confronted. This is the tale of the epic, but very short lived adventure of the grown man and the bat.
Will and I were casually watching Orange is the New Black because let's face it; it's one of the best shows on tv right now and I may or may not be able to stop watching it. Bob is Will's roommate and has the entire top floor to himself. We hear a massive bang and think okay he dropped something. He then shrieks... and yes I do my shriek. It definitely wasn't a manly yell. Will then gets a phonecall from Bob, but we ignore it. More banging ensues and yelling. We get concerned and answer the next phone call.
It went something like this:
Bob: *sheer panic* THERE. IS. A BAT. A BAT IS IN MY ROOM. OH GOD here it comes. AHHH. Help me. What do I do. How did it get up here???
Me: Uncontrollable laughter
Will: Okay calm down I'm coming.
This is one of those moments where I absolutely hated myself for not grabbing my phone to record the hilarity. We get up to his room and walk in. Bob is crouched behind his bed for cover while holding a t-shirt that he flings when the bat gets close by. This flinging is also accompanied by a girly yell and "oh god... oh god..." By this point the bat is terrified and probably wondering what in the heck is going on. It's flying in a big circle around the room. It tried to fly out the door I was by and I slammed it in its face so we could contain it. Will, unlike Bob, is not terrified of bats. He calmly tried to coax the bat into a pillowcase, but it was too smart for that. He then trapped it inside a laundry hamper.
Bob decided since it was trapped that now would be a good time to come out from behind his bed. He approached the hamper cautiously and began to freak out about getting the bat out of the house.
Here's a fun video that Bob took right before he called Will. This still makes me smile.
Sorry Bob. I know I am exploiting your horror, but you had to have seen this coming.
After Will took the bat outside we went back up to Bob to see how he was coping in his now bat free environment. As we were walking back downstairs I casually threw into the conversation this gem:
Me: "Check your clothes racks for babies. There might be more."
The repeated transition from horror to hate that crossed his face was priceless. It was also completely worth it. We could hear him shuffling through his clothes for 15 minutes before he was convinced I was kidding.
Then because I couldn't help myself I sent him this picture.
"As much as they deny it I think people like being scared. It's a phenomenon, why people want to be scared when there is so much violence and craziness in the world. People still really enjoy being scared. It's a conundrum to me. It's hard to explain. It's an unconscious thing, really, why people like that so much"--Dylan McDermott
There comes a time in every man's life when he must defend himself against vicious creatures of the wild. Most people expect to find these creatures outside of their homes. The most terrifying and effective creature attacks are ones that come from within our comfort zones. These are particularly effective when coming from your clothes rack as you prepare for bed. This creature, which happens to be a bat, knew this and also knew that this man, we shall call him Bob, was absolutely horrified of bats and would turn into a 5 year old girl when confronted. This is the tale of the epic, but very short lived adventure of the grown man and the bat.
Will and I were casually watching Orange is the New Black because let's face it; it's one of the best shows on tv right now and I may or may not be able to stop watching it. Bob is Will's roommate and has the entire top floor to himself. We hear a massive bang and think okay he dropped something. He then shrieks... and yes I do my shriek. It definitely wasn't a manly yell. Will then gets a phonecall from Bob, but we ignore it. More banging ensues and yelling. We get concerned and answer the next phone call.
It went something like this:
Bob: *sheer panic* THERE. IS. A BAT. A BAT IS IN MY ROOM. OH GOD here it comes. AHHH. Help me. What do I do. How did it get up here???
Me: Uncontrollable laughter
Will: Okay calm down I'm coming.
This is one of those moments where I absolutely hated myself for not grabbing my phone to record the hilarity. We get up to his room and walk in. Bob is crouched behind his bed for cover while holding a t-shirt that he flings when the bat gets close by. This flinging is also accompanied by a girly yell and "oh god... oh god..." By this point the bat is terrified and probably wondering what in the heck is going on. It's flying in a big circle around the room. It tried to fly out the door I was by and I slammed it in its face so we could contain it. Will, unlike Bob, is not terrified of bats. He calmly tried to coax the bat into a pillowcase, but it was too smart for that. He then trapped it inside a laundry hamper.
Bob decided since it was trapped that now would be a good time to come out from behind his bed. He approached the hamper cautiously and began to freak out about getting the bat out of the house.
Here's a fun video that Bob took right before he called Will. This still makes me smile.
Sorry Bob. I know I am exploiting your horror, but you had to have seen this coming.
After Will took the bat outside we went back up to Bob to see how he was coping in his now bat free environment. As we were walking back downstairs I casually threw into the conversation this gem:
Me: "Check your clothes racks for babies. There might be more."
The repeated transition from horror to hate that crossed his face was priceless. It was also completely worth it. We could hear him shuffling through his clothes for 15 minutes before he was convinced I was kidding.
Then because I couldn't help myself I sent him this picture.
With a caption that said "Just think. You could've woken up to this beauty! Best friends!" (Thank you national geographic website for this photo. It's not mine it is completely theirs.)
All I got was a message back saying he hated me. So worth it.
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