1, 2, 3.
1. I have long since been of the opinion that life is too short to spend it talking to people who piss you off. There is a chap at work who is very annoying, abrupt, and in your face, so apart from the usual hello-type pleasantries, I give him a miss. I mean, there's something like 95 staff members on the floor so it's not a huge deal. But apparently it is! I caught this same chap loudly BITCHING about me at work.
Bitching! About me! The quiet girl who wears boring clothes and sits in the park all the time with a book!
I go out of my way to avoid the bitchy people, and yet I am still bitched about. I am back in high school. He is the student who smokes behind the gym at lunchtime and loses his virginity when he's 13 to a 38-year old man and then loudly tells everyone how he constantly inserts vegetables up his own bottom (ACTUAL FORMER CO-STUDENT). I am the student who thinks 'gosh, this is an eye-opener and all, but I think I'll leave' and goes to their room to play with dolls and read Jane Eyre. This guy's currently being investigated by management due to several complaints being made against him, and I know that people who put others down all the time probably have, I don't know, issues or something, and I'm not really overly offended, but STILL.
2. This weekend, John and I are venturing out into the big wide world to buy a car. Now, I don't know too much about cars (hell, I don't even have my licence), but I know what I like, and I have created a list of the specifications that this broombroom must meet. This list is as follows:
3. John threw a packet of chips at me and it hit me square in the face, so I pinned him down and then hurled the same packet of chips at his head repeatedly. Then he apologised, said it was an accident, and as soon as I had moved away he threw them at my head again. This is our relationship.
The book I am reading, Running With Scissors, makes me feel like I have had the most normal life in the world.
1. I have long since been of the opinion that life is too short to spend it talking to people who piss you off. There is a chap at work who is very annoying, abrupt, and in your face, so apart from the usual hello-type pleasantries, I give him a miss. I mean, there's something like 95 staff members on the floor so it's not a huge deal. But apparently it is! I caught this same chap loudly BITCHING about me at work.
Bitching! About me! The quiet girl who wears boring clothes and sits in the park all the time with a book!
I go out of my way to avoid the bitchy people, and yet I am still bitched about. I am back in high school. He is the student who smokes behind the gym at lunchtime and loses his virginity when he's 13 to a 38-year old man and then loudly tells everyone how he constantly inserts vegetables up his own bottom (ACTUAL FORMER CO-STUDENT). I am the student who thinks 'gosh, this is an eye-opener and all, but I think I'll leave' and goes to their room to play with dolls and read Jane Eyre. This guy's currently being investigated by management due to several complaints being made against him, and I know that people who put others down all the time probably have, I don't know, issues or something, and I'm not really overly offended, but STILL.
2. This weekend, John and I are venturing out into the big wide world to buy a car. Now, I don't know too much about cars (hell, I don't even have my licence), but I know what I like, and I have created a list of the specifications that this broombroom must meet. This list is as follows:
- Red, preferably. Because red cars go faster. FACT.
- No rev-head, boy-racer, yobbo, or hoon previous owners. In my limited experience, I have discovered that the surefire way to spot a hoon car is a modified gear knob. WHO MODIFIES THEIR GEAR KNOB? Hoons. That's who.
- All the buttons need to work. Even the buttons for crap things like your hazard lights.
- A customised horn. None of this standard beep-beep bullshit. We're talking La Cucaracha, maybe some Abba or some AC/DC.
- No suspicious stains on the seat or floormats. Previous drivers and passengers must not have transferred any bodily fluids to the car. This includes, but is not limited to: weeing, pooing, or the result of carrying a dead body in the trunk.
- It should have those cool doors that open upwards. You know. Like a DeLorean. Actually, if it could be a DeLorean, I'd be stoked.
3. John threw a packet of chips at me and it hit me square in the face, so I pinned him down and then hurled the same packet of chips at his head repeatedly. Then he apologised, said it was an accident, and as soon as I had moved away he threw them at my head again. This is our relationship.
The book I am reading, Running With Scissors, makes me feel like I have had the most normal life in the world.
posted by GBE at 8:59 pm
15 Comments:
Ah, former co-student, I remember him well.
Mate, I told you that book was MESSED UP. It makes you want to keep reading, but with your hand over your mouth and eyes wide open.
1.) Give him a candybar tomorrow. And say hi (only hi) when you pass him at the beginning of the day. That way, when he comes in to work next week with a sawed off shotgun and starts picking people off, he'll let you be. . . because you gave him candy.
2.) Its better to pay a couple extra bucks to have an independant shop look it over than to find out you bought a crap car. On the brighter side, if you purchase one thats less than four years old and has less than 100,000 kilometers on it than you should be ok. If you really want to be in good shape, look for something between 50,000 and 80,000. Most cars today are designed to last about 160,000 km, so a vehicle in the range of half that should be a good trouble free ride.
3.) Instead of throwing it back at him, just hit him (maybe not in the head though); that hurts more. He'll learn his lesson better that way.
4.) The fact that I was second to comment proves I have no life. . .
I suggest ABBA as a horn song. The longer the better. Imagine, you can start a disco dance off right in the middle of traffic! So rad, man. And cheery too! That's all i know about cars.
Running With Scissors is completely insane. It makes me feel sound. Case in point.
p.s.: your relationship is as refreshing & desired as that glass there :D! Bottoms up!
My bloke decided to bury my head with pillows as his wakeup call to me this morning. Nothing like a bit of asphyxiation and claustrophobia to start the morning.
Did you hear anything more of the job that you applied for that was so good you wanted to marry it?
Running with Scissors is rather disturbing, I'm so thankful I have a relatively normal life.
Good luck with your car search! I love looking at cars!
Mmm, I second Abe on the independent evaluation thing. See if you can get the RAC to look over the car - if the dealer hasn't had it done already.
PS: Mankind has yet to invent a vehicle cooler (and sexier) than the Holden Sandman.
Foud you through A Novelist... cool blog! I'd be sure to visit again!
GBE,
Once again you come to the edge with a glimpse of sanity! Are you sure you're not "older and wiser"?
If John, ever forgets how good you are as a person, hit him up along side the head and tell him, "Wake up dude, you are about to blow it!"
(From your blogs I know he loves you, just keep on being a supre couple, your time will come.
Oh i want to see the car you picked!!!!
And if you change you mind and want a 1973 mini with a cool paint job instead (It has a cool horn and no suspicious stains) then let me know! As I don't live in Brisbane (where it is) anymore I don't really see the point in keeping it.
The guy at your work sounds like a jerk...Maybe put some seafood shell or something in his filing cabinet or desk drawer!!
Oh and your relationship with John sounds really healthy to me!!
Sars, yo, that was some crazy shit. But hey, now he has a book deal and doesn't talk to his crazy adopted relatives any more.
Abe, 1. I think he is on a diet, so he'd probably put me first on his Kill List if I gave him a candybar. "Bitch never talks to me, and is trying to make me FAT. DIE!" 2. If there's anything this insurance business has taught me it's that low km's reign supreme. I refuse to be the customer who buys a car, only to discover that they were ripped off thousands. 3. I like your style, son. 4. Next time, if you make it to first, you win a prize!
Vapidly Vibrant, starting a disco in the street is perhaps the best idea in the entire world. The passers-by wouldn't be able to resist the funky rhythm. And your knowledge of cars far surpasses my own.
Hawkeye23, are we actually living the same life? Or are we the same person? As for the job, I'm still waiting. Applications only closed last week so I'm thinking I'll hear something this week. At least if they send me a rejection then I can stop thinking about it.
Jen, we were having a debate the other night about whether it would be worth living a really disturbing childhood, if it meant you would land a book deal and make squillions when you turned thirty. We came to a resounding 'no'. More of a 'NO!' actually.
Mark, the Sandman is pretty cool. Plus, you can live in it, which is always a bonus. I get the distinct feeling you'd find yourself attracting hundreds of women named Sharon and Sheila, though.
Heart of Darkness, hello! And thank you muchly. :-)
Mr. Guinness, I hope I didn't come across like I was having a bit of whinge about it - more just pointing out how completely absurd our behaviour is, most of the time. I think I'd go a bit mental if we didn't throw packets of chips at eachothers heads every now and then. Um.
Lulu, I would sincerely love your car, but John is afraid that everyone will point at him and say 'look at the man in the very small car' and then laugh. If it was just for me, hell yes. Sigh.
My darling best friend mtk is the most organised, anal person I know. She has fruit crates full of books stretching up to her ceiling and makes her lunch on Sunday night so that she can pack it every day for the working week. She has a very neat, tidy and clean white hatchback that never has rubbish on the floor.
Her gear knob is a silver skull with red eyes.
Hah!
She's also reading Running With Scissors right now and she agrees it's wack.
I know you're not in the states and all and if you're not.. who buys an American car.. but I will advise you anyway.. do not, under any circumstances by ANY car w/ the letters F.O.R.D. I'm just saying. Cuz that's what I drive.. and I'm waiting for it to die. And tho for some reason, it's had a kajillion and one issues in the oh.. FIVE years I've owned it including brakes that went out at 24,000 miles (which is ridiculous), 2 coolant leaks, an oil leak, a bad fuel pump, cd player went out twice, umpteen-thousand recalls and the sensor something or other most recently replaced... it's not dead.. yet. I will never ever do that to myself again. I'd rather have something German.
I really want to read that book tho!
Audrey, is mtk a secret hoon? A hoon in disguise? A hoon hidden beneath a veil of organised book-stacking and lunch-making? Because it simply does not add up. A skull gear knob sounds like it would be ok, though. Does she end up stabbing it in the eye every time she changes gears?
Miss Devylish, we have Fords here and as far as I know, they actually have a pretty decent reputation. I think yours might have been made at the Ford Factory For Reject Cars With Faulty Bits, though.
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