Sunday, April 12, 2009

The Floor Carrot

Alright, so here is the deal, anyone that knows me is aware that I am a bit of a selective germophobe. As in, I am not always the tidiest of people, but I still won't share food or drink.

It is for that reason that I think my friends might get a kick out of the following narrative.

I was at a casual function where snacks and beverages were being served. Among the snacks was a vegetable tray. I grabbed a few things, not bothering to get myself a plate because I didn't take very much. As I was eating I happened to drop one of my baby carrots on the floor. The carpeted floor. Which I know for fact isn't vacuumed very often. On which people were walking with their outdoor shoes. Also, the carrot bounced a few times before I picked it up. So, obviously, this carrot was pretty much dead to me, there was no way I was going to eat it now, but I picked it up with the intention of immediately throwing it out. Unfortunately there wasn't a garbage in sight, and I was soon engaged in conversation by a fellow mingler. No problem, I thought to myself, I will simply hold on to the carrot until I spot a garbage. Well, I guess as I was chatting I got a little distracted, and some sort of terrible instinct got the floor carrot from my hand to my mouth. I only realized what I had done about two chews in. I was horrified. Completely horrified. I couldn't spit the carrot out now, not when I was in the middle of chatting with someone, and had no napkin, and there was so nearby garbage for me to dump the non-existent napkin into anyways. My thoughts were dominated by two things:

1. OMG, I am eating the super disgusting floor carrot.

2. Has anyone noticed that I am eating the super disgusting floor carrot? Are they judging me? Do they think I regularly eat floor food without a care?

I troopered it out, more and more disgusted by every chew, but I eventually swallowed.

Even today I can still remember the repulsive taste. I was sure I sure I could detect dirt, and lint, and something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Ugh.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Rabbits

Bunnies aren't just cute like everybody supposes.
They got them hoppy legs and twitchy little noses
And what's with all the carrots?
What do they need such good eyesight for anyway?
-Anya

I don't think I have always been freaked out by rabbits. I definitely am now though. They are just so frantically twitchy, and spazzy, and their poop looks like their food.

I used to have to look after my uncle's rabbits when him and my aunt went out of town. I hated having to reach into their cages and get their food bowls. They would start moving around like crazy, and, I don't know, it would just discomforting. I devised several methods of limiting my contact with said rabbits. Method number one involved wearing an oven mitt. Though I figured it was pretty thorough protection from one of their "attacks" it made getting their food bowls out really hard (I couldn't form a proper grip). I tried other things (which all failed for one reason or another). The only effective method was getting my then boyfriend to do it for me. He thought I was a big freak for being scared of rabbits, but putting up with his mocking was such a small price to pay.

My worst rabbit experience ever though was arriving one day to feed them (alone) and finding one unusually still. I didn't want to poke it with one of my fingers for two reasons: 1) It might bite my finger clean off in a fit of spazziness and 2) It was probably dead, and as much as live rabbits freak me out, a dead one would be even creepier. I mean, it would be eerie to have this normally frantic creature not react to a prod. I got something to poke it with, and sure enough it was dead. My dad came over and buried it in my uncle's back yard.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Poop on you father time! Poop on you!!

Lately I have been noticing a few things. These things disturb me greatly as they are making me realize I am no spring chicken anymore. I mean, it's not like I am wrinkled, or arthritic, or anything, but what follows is a few of my observations which prove that, sadly, I am getting older.

1. My similarly aged female friends are getting pregnant, AND ITS SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE.

2. I no longer think of money in terms of comic books, or video games (ie: Why buying a $ 120.00 purse is ridiculous! That's like 6 graphic novels! That's like 3 video games!). Instead I think of money in terms of car payments, and down payments on homes (ie: Why buying a $ 120.00 purse is ridiculous! That's like 1/150 of a new car! That's like 1/250 of a 20% down payment on a $ 150,000.00 home!)

3. The things I need to save up for are getting exponentially more expensive. What follows outlines (roughly) the kinds of purchases I wanted to make in pre-adolescence, adolescence, young adulthood, and adulthood and their costs.

Barbie: $ 20.00
Bike: $ 150.00
Computer: $ 800.00
Car: $ 18,000.00
Home: $ 150,000.00

Did you notice a jump in prices there? It's at times like this that I ponder the merits of communism... Or winning the lottery.... Basically I am looking for the easy way out here, EXCEPT THERE ISN'T ONE.

4. I worry about my current lack of pension plan. My current scenario involves a cardboard box... in Florida.

5. It's been almost a year since I have legitimately been drunk, AND I'M NOT OVERLY BOTHERED BY THAT FACT.

Le sigh.