So, I realize that it has been ages since I posted anything and that I really should be better at this. The truth is my life has been pretty boring as of late. Mostly I just go to class and work and watch my shows. But today I actually have something! Somethings, really.
Let's go back to the beginning. In this case, the beginning is the beginning of November. As a few of you may know, for those of us in the Creative Writing World, November is the month when crazy people decide to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. It's riotous fun. Truly. Now, last year I decided on a whip to try this, the day before November 1st and it didn't end well. I don't even think I made it to the second week. It just wasn't the right time. I wasn't prepared. I didn't have any idea what I wanted to write about, didn't have a plot outline, didn't have any character profiles, didn't have anything. But this year, I decided in October that I was going to do this. And guess what people, as of right now, I'm 3,000 words ahead of schedule. Now, after the last day of November will I have the best novel in the world? That's a definite no. I don't even know if 50,000 words is enough to contain this beast of mediocrity. But I will have reached my goal. And there are a few gems in there, beautiful passages and a few great scenes. Maybe some of it can be salvaged. I honestly don't care because when I'm done, I will have written more on one story than I ever have before, and in 30 days, while going to school and working and still managing to go to San Diego without my computer for 4 days. I'd say that's an accomplishment. It has been a pretty eye opening month for me, because honestly, it was easy to write 1,666+ words a day. I didn't think I was the kind of person who could just write and become inspired, but these past 22 days that's been my experience. If I sit down at the computer and start writing, something relevant will come out, and sometimes it's really good, something I can use again or something that will help me get this novel where I want it to be someday. Anyway! There's that little tidbit of my life! I'll keep you updated on that 50,000 words.
Now, today was the Milton Marathon at the U of A Main Library, which I was required to attend an hour of for class. It's not that big of a deal because I've already read Paradise Lost like 3 times, for other classes and whatnot. And they always have treats. This year they didn't have any hot cocoa which really sucked because that's my favorite and it's raining out here and hot cocoa goes best with a cold November rain. But anyway, I showed up to the Milton Marathon pretty early on and chose a seat kinda in the back on the edge of a row of seats. I wanted easy access to said treats. Things were going fine, readers weren't botching the style too bad and hardly anyone had mispronounced a word. Then, suddenly, danger struck from above. In the form of the guy sitting in front of me. For some reason, he didn't feel my personal space was important to me because he leaned back his head until it was practically on my Kindle (from which I was following along with the readers of Paradise Lost) and started shaking his somewhat shaggy hair out. Now, I didn't see any kind of dandruff or lice or anything, but anyone who itches there head that much and then shakes it all over my area kinda freaks me out. He also stretched his hands out until they almost hit my face and I had to lean all the way back, probably causing me to intrude on the personal space of the girl behind me. The worst part? His eyes were closed the whole time so he didn't even notice I was there, apparently. Or so I thought.
The next thing I knew, however and despite my attempts at making noise and putting on lotion and coughing and stuff to let him know I was there, the dude was at it again. So as soon as the shenanigans had stopped I switched seats so that I was sitting in the seat next to the one which had caused me so much trouble. Thinking this would help me keep from being attacked by that guy's hair and whatever may or may not have been falling out of it. Nope. The next time he leaned back, he made this sort of wide arc with his head and hands so that I was still forced to lean away from him and probably into the personal space of the next person I was sitting in front of. I'm now pretty sure that this video game playing lame-o head was doing this on purpose. Anyway, I'm not his biggest fan. Or his fan at all. In fact, I kinda hate that kid for ruining my Paradise Lost experience. Then I left, because my hour was up and I needed to watch The Hunger Games in preparation for watching Catching Fire tonight. But of course, the light sprinkling that had been happening when I went into the library had turned into a downpour and I didn't have my hoodie. A travesty of my own making. Luckily I did have my boots on, or I never would have made it to my car parked at the Institute. Seriously, last year when it did this I fell down like five times. This time I was completely soaked and I barely managed to keep my books and stuff safe inside my purse, but I didn't fall and I made it back to my car mostly unscathed. My mascara was a little messed up but that was to be expected. It's what I get for wearing make up and doing my hair in the first place.
So now, here I am, watching The Hunger Games and writing this blog. And hoping that the kid with the atrocious hair problems didn't give me some sort of disease.
The moral of the story: If you have an itchy head, don't shake it over someone else's personal space! And also, don't sit behind weirdos, because you might have this happen to you.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Reasons Why I Love Superman
10. The new movie was so amazing! And it made me remember the days when all I knew about superheroes came from the episodes of Smallville I managed to watch on TV. Good times. I've grown so much!
9. Henry Cavill's face.
8. Superman has a pretty amazing moral compass. And he always tries to do what is right.
7. Superman is a journalist, which is cool because I've thought about being a journalist and can therefore relate to his more mundane problems.
6. The glasses.
5. Henry Cavill's smile.
4. He can fly. Which is totally cool because my dream of soaring through the air, singing "A Whole New World" could totally come true if I was Lois Lane.
3. Clark Kent is a country boy who loves America. And that's just cool.
2. Abs of steel. (See what I did there?!)
And the Number One reason why I love Superman?!
1. He saved me from the clutches of a ruthless villain!!
OK, that's a little bit more dramatic than what really happened, but seriously, Superman saved me. It all began with an event at my Comic Book store which involved a Superman Cosplay guy who was so in character that no one knows his real name. Even the guys who work at the store don't know his real name. Anyway, because I was excited about the upcoming movie I took a picture on my phone with Superman. It was all very exciting. Flash forward to this morning, when I awoke to a buzzing phone that alerted me to a new friend request on Facebook. It was a guy I knew in high school. Since I remembered not hating him in any way, I thought why not. And I added him. Immediately after adding him he sent me a message asking me how I was. Which I thought was a little odd but whatever. (The old me would have assumed the worst of his motives simply because he was a man but I've turned over a new leaf and therefore sent a message back.) Maybe he just wanted to catch up. After all, it's been like four years since high school and sometimes it is nice to see what's going on with other people.
For the next ten or fifteen minutes we talked on Facebook, idle chit-chat about what we'd been up to the last few years, but something still felt a little weird. Still, I was trying to think the best in people. And men. But then he asked for my number. Which was weirder. But hey, he said he never gets on Facebook and so far our conversation had been fine. Then he immediately started texting me. And then it was only about five more texts before he asked for a picture. Which just proves that you never trust a man. I've learned this before but usually try to give them a chance to screw up. It just makes me feel good to know I'm right and can be justifiably angry at people. Anyway, even though I was angry I sent him a picture. But not of awkwardness. Of me, standing next to Superman in all his glorious, caped awesomeness. Needless to say, that was not what this guy was expecting. Anyway, he never texted back and then he proceeded to unfriend me. Which really only means that I won. But this brings me back to my point about Superman. I believe that it was his amazing goodness that saved me today. Also, Clark Kent would totally never text Lois Lane and be like, "What up? Send me a pic." And if Clark won't do it, neither should any other man. He would totally court her and impress her with his glasses and amazing smile and then when they were totally in love (admittedly this wouldn't take long because have you seen his smile?!) he would make his move. In a totally respectful way that Lois wouldn't feel was demeaning in any way possible. She would actually think - probably - that he took too long to make his move simply because he's just such a good guy that he doesn't want to take any kind of advantage of her.
So, from now on, whenever some random dude wants a picture, he'll get one of me with Superman by my side. And if Superman's majestic all over wholesomeness doesn't shame him into leaving me alone, I'll send him a picture of my foot. And hopefully he's seen enough That 70's Show to know exactly what I'm implying. Anyway, I've learned a few things. Like my life was a whole lot easier when I just assumed the worst in men and let the few good ones surprise me with their respect. Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm just going to go back to that. Also, I've learned that Superman is probably the best superhero on the planet. His mere presence saves people. And last, I've learned that what I want in a man. He must have Clark Kent's glasses, Henry Cavill's smile, Superman's amazing moral compass and his ability to fly. It's a pretty tall order. And I might have to take that last one off the list. But I'll never be able to settle for an ordinary human man now.
Anyway, that's my life. Everyone should really watch Man of Steel. It was fantastic!!
This is me with Superman. Pretty epic.Also, notice my amazing Han Solo shirt and the beautiful array of comic books.
9. Henry Cavill's face.
8. Superman has a pretty amazing moral compass. And he always tries to do what is right.
7. Superman is a journalist, which is cool because I've thought about being a journalist and can therefore relate to his more mundane problems.
6. The glasses.
5. Henry Cavill's smile.
4. He can fly. Which is totally cool because my dream of soaring through the air, singing "A Whole New World" could totally come true if I was Lois Lane.
3. Clark Kent is a country boy who loves America. And that's just cool.
2. Abs of steel. (See what I did there?!)
And the Number One reason why I love Superman?!
1. He saved me from the clutches of a ruthless villain!!
OK, that's a little bit more dramatic than what really happened, but seriously, Superman saved me. It all began with an event at my Comic Book store which involved a Superman Cosplay guy who was so in character that no one knows his real name. Even the guys who work at the store don't know his real name. Anyway, because I was excited about the upcoming movie I took a picture on my phone with Superman. It was all very exciting. Flash forward to this morning, when I awoke to a buzzing phone that alerted me to a new friend request on Facebook. It was a guy I knew in high school. Since I remembered not hating him in any way, I thought why not. And I added him. Immediately after adding him he sent me a message asking me how I was. Which I thought was a little odd but whatever. (The old me would have assumed the worst of his motives simply because he was a man but I've turned over a new leaf and therefore sent a message back.) Maybe he just wanted to catch up. After all, it's been like four years since high school and sometimes it is nice to see what's going on with other people.
For the next ten or fifteen minutes we talked on Facebook, idle chit-chat about what we'd been up to the last few years, but something still felt a little weird. Still, I was trying to think the best in people. And men. But then he asked for my number. Which was weirder. But hey, he said he never gets on Facebook and so far our conversation had been fine. Then he immediately started texting me. And then it was only about five more texts before he asked for a picture. Which just proves that you never trust a man. I've learned this before but usually try to give them a chance to screw up. It just makes me feel good to know I'm right and can be justifiably angry at people. Anyway, even though I was angry I sent him a picture. But not of awkwardness. Of me, standing next to Superman in all his glorious, caped awesomeness. Needless to say, that was not what this guy was expecting. Anyway, he never texted back and then he proceeded to unfriend me. Which really only means that I won. But this brings me back to my point about Superman. I believe that it was his amazing goodness that saved me today. Also, Clark Kent would totally never text Lois Lane and be like, "What up? Send me a pic." And if Clark won't do it, neither should any other man. He would totally court her and impress her with his glasses and amazing smile and then when they were totally in love (admittedly this wouldn't take long because have you seen his smile?!) he would make his move. In a totally respectful way that Lois wouldn't feel was demeaning in any way possible. She would actually think - probably - that he took too long to make his move simply because he's just such a good guy that he doesn't want to take any kind of advantage of her.
So, from now on, whenever some random dude wants a picture, he'll get one of me with Superman by my side. And if Superman's majestic all over wholesomeness doesn't shame him into leaving me alone, I'll send him a picture of my foot. And hopefully he's seen enough That 70's Show to know exactly what I'm implying. Anyway, I've learned a few things. Like my life was a whole lot easier when I just assumed the worst in men and let the few good ones surprise me with their respect. Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm just going to go back to that. Also, I've learned that Superman is probably the best superhero on the planet. His mere presence saves people. And last, I've learned that what I want in a man. He must have Clark Kent's glasses, Henry Cavill's smile, Superman's amazing moral compass and his ability to fly. It's a pretty tall order. And I might have to take that last one off the list. But I'll never be able to settle for an ordinary human man now.
Anyway, that's my life. Everyone should really watch Man of Steel. It was fantastic!!
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Creepy Snakes, Catching Horses and a Late Hay Delivery
It has been a really long time since I've written anything and today I just felt the need to change that. For some strange reason I believed in my heart that this summer would be a calm time in which to relax and do stupid things with my friends like stay up until two in the morning on a regular basis. It was a silly dream. And it didn't work out that way. I now have to wake up earlier than I usually do for school but it's totally worth it. I have been working at what passes for a Ranch in this city for a few months now and since the guys who usually run the place are busy running a summer camp for children, guess who gets to show up early and make some of the hard decisions? That's right. It's me. At first I was a little nervous but I figured it wouldn't be that much different than what I had been doing. I was completely wrong.
So far, I've had to do such things as catch horses and administer medicines to them, clean out their hooves (a horse pedicure as my coworker calls it), play vet for a horse with wounds on his knee, pick up feed supplements and make sure all the time sheets for our clients make it to the main office in time. It's been crazy. And hot. Very hot. Did I mention we also have to sift, shovel and move manure compost in this Arizona heat? Yeah, that part's not very fun. Well, on Monday we had a horse die. She was old and had a tumor so she really was ready to go but that didn't make it any easier for some of the clients. Also, all of the bosses were out that day. And some of the people who give funding to the summer camp. It was not the best time for Freckles to die. Also, I was alone that day with the three clients. As we waited for the man to come take Freckles' body away (inside because Ethan - one of the guys in charge - didn't think the clients needed to see them take her away) it became very clear that we wouldn't be able to do afternoon chores. But it wasn't until I went out to check on the situation that I found any real problem.
That problem was a huge black snake that shot through my direct path getting back to the house. And then it did something that I was pretending snakes couldn't do: it slithered UP into the raised garden beds. Now, as most of you know I am terrified of snakes. Absolutely terrified. The less I know of their skills the better. And that is something you cannot unsee. Even after they took Freckles' body away (45 minutes late!) I could really only focus on the fact that there was a snake on the loose with the ability to go up things. Like walls. And raised garden beds.
Then, right after two of the clients had left and I was only waiting for one other client's ride to show up, the very late hay delivery guy showed up instead. And let me tell you, he was angry. And swearing like a sailor. Mostly about how much he hates women. While I was standing right there. Luckily for me, the client whose ride hadn't yet showed up helped me get all the bales of hay in their correct spot. OK, he did most of the work. I basically let him lift the 105 pound bales and I pushed them to the right spot. I'm not that strong, people. Anyway, the whole while this hay delivery guy is throwing bales all crazy off the truck and swearing up a storm and saying some very degrading things about the women he works with. At least he had the (sort of) decency to throw in a hasty, "But not you," after the first round of sexist comments. But then he said something that ruined whatever good graces he'd managed to receive from me when he said that I should just take a whip to my clients to get them working and then took it back because, "They might like it too much, I know I would!" Yeah. He's not the greatest of guys. Luckily he's moving to Tennessee in like a month. I should never have to see him again.Well, it turns out I'm not the only one that found him less than savory. Then next day when we told Ethan about the late delivery he made a show for the clients that people have their good and bad days and then caught my attention as he left the house to go to the summer camp. He mouthed the words "He's an - "and then mouthed a word that I won't repeat and shouldn't have made me laugh but it did. It just proves that some people's mother actually teach them respect.
Anyway, I'm learning a lot. Like the fact that I can totally catch a horse and force her to take her meds and even like it. Which will totally be helpful when I'm a mom, I'm sure, because what are children to gigantic, rowdy horses who don't want to do as their told? Just kidding. For that I'm probably going to have a child that never does what she's told. Also, I have learned that even though I'm still very afraid of snakes in all their forms, I can hold back a scream so as not to alarm clients when I see one. Great skill, that one. Most importantly, I've learned that with hard work and a willingness to do the hard jobs that others don't want I can accomplish whatever I want. Because guess what?! Thanks to all my hard work and willingness to work, I'm getting a raise. And it feels good. Because I've earned it. I'm so grateful for my family for teaching me the value of work and I can't wait to see what else this summer holds!
So far, I've had to do such things as catch horses and administer medicines to them, clean out their hooves (a horse pedicure as my coworker calls it), play vet for a horse with wounds on his knee, pick up feed supplements and make sure all the time sheets for our clients make it to the main office in time. It's been crazy. And hot. Very hot. Did I mention we also have to sift, shovel and move manure compost in this Arizona heat? Yeah, that part's not very fun. Well, on Monday we had a horse die. She was old and had a tumor so she really was ready to go but that didn't make it any easier for some of the clients. Also, all of the bosses were out that day. And some of the people who give funding to the summer camp. It was not the best time for Freckles to die. Also, I was alone that day with the three clients. As we waited for the man to come take Freckles' body away (inside because Ethan - one of the guys in charge - didn't think the clients needed to see them take her away) it became very clear that we wouldn't be able to do afternoon chores. But it wasn't until I went out to check on the situation that I found any real problem.
That problem was a huge black snake that shot through my direct path getting back to the house. And then it did something that I was pretending snakes couldn't do: it slithered UP into the raised garden beds. Now, as most of you know I am terrified of snakes. Absolutely terrified. The less I know of their skills the better. And that is something you cannot unsee. Even after they took Freckles' body away (45 minutes late!) I could really only focus on the fact that there was a snake on the loose with the ability to go up things. Like walls. And raised garden beds.
Then, right after two of the clients had left and I was only waiting for one other client's ride to show up, the very late hay delivery guy showed up instead. And let me tell you, he was angry. And swearing like a sailor. Mostly about how much he hates women. While I was standing right there. Luckily for me, the client whose ride hadn't yet showed up helped me get all the bales of hay in their correct spot. OK, he did most of the work. I basically let him lift the 105 pound bales and I pushed them to the right spot. I'm not that strong, people. Anyway, the whole while this hay delivery guy is throwing bales all crazy off the truck and swearing up a storm and saying some very degrading things about the women he works with. At least he had the (sort of) decency to throw in a hasty, "But not you," after the first round of sexist comments. But then he said something that ruined whatever good graces he'd managed to receive from me when he said that I should just take a whip to my clients to get them working and then took it back because, "They might like it too much, I know I would!" Yeah. He's not the greatest of guys. Luckily he's moving to Tennessee in like a month. I should never have to see him again.Well, it turns out I'm not the only one that found him less than savory. Then next day when we told Ethan about the late delivery he made a show for the clients that people have their good and bad days and then caught my attention as he left the house to go to the summer camp. He mouthed the words "He's an - "and then mouthed a word that I won't repeat and shouldn't have made me laugh but it did. It just proves that some people's mother actually teach them respect.
Anyway, I'm learning a lot. Like the fact that I can totally catch a horse and force her to take her meds and even like it. Which will totally be helpful when I'm a mom, I'm sure, because what are children to gigantic, rowdy horses who don't want to do as their told? Just kidding. For that I'm probably going to have a child that never does what she's told. Also, I have learned that even though I'm still very afraid of snakes in all their forms, I can hold back a scream so as not to alarm clients when I see one. Great skill, that one. Most importantly, I've learned that with hard work and a willingness to do the hard jobs that others don't want I can accomplish whatever I want. Because guess what?! Thanks to all my hard work and willingness to work, I'm getting a raise. And it feels good. Because I've earned it. I'm so grateful for my family for teaching me the value of work and I can't wait to see what else this summer holds!
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Sonic Screwdrivers, Spidey-Sense and The Day the Force Failed Me
So, as a few of you may know, Free Comic Book Day is an amazing event that happens at comic book stores all over every year on the first Saturday in May. This year, the stars aligned so magically in that Free Comic Book Day fell on May the Fourth, a day of Star Wars Celebration. Basically, this was the nerdiest of all days. Everything seemed perfect...
The morning of May the Fourth (be with you) 2013 dawned bright and glorious. With money for all the comic book sales I was sure to find in my Batman wallet and enough gas in my car to actually visit my favorite comic book stores, I left my apartment around 9:45 to pick up my Comic Book Mentor, Alex. She was the one who taught me about the joy of comic books. It was a very special day, indeed, the anniversary of my introduction to comic books. I had on my Star Wars shirt and my DC Converse (one with Batman, the other with Superman) and basically I was rocking the nerdy look without actually wearing a costume. It was a great day to be a nerd. Alex and I were joined by new, nerdy, magic playing friends and one Brony. (If you don't understand those references, that's probably OK.) Anyway, everything was great. We started with Heroes and Villains, a marvelous comic book store where some of our greatest nerd friends work. After picking up our free comic books and scouring the shelves for necessary additions to our collections (I found an encyclopedia of Doctor Who) and taking pictures with all the people dressed up (even the My Little Pony group) Alex and I were off to R-Galaxy.
It was here that I found the most marvelous of items. A Sonic Screwdriver, the Doctor's trusted tool. And it was on a keychain. The perfect size. It lit up when you pushed the button on the side. A gem, I tell you, a gem. I bought it, because how could I not at 10% off? Plus, I found some awesome old school Spider-Man comics. It was marvelous. Truly amazing. This is what Free Comic Book Day is all about. Things seemed to be working out perfectly.
After returning home to inspect my spoils, I put on Star Wars Episode IV, because I had one last task to complete on my nerdy checklist for the day. I needed to celebrate May the Fourth in true Star Wars style. I'd barely made it past the beautiful, scrolling sentences when - suddenly!- all the power in my apartment shut off. For no apparent reason. I tried, unsuccessfully, to use the force to turn it back on. I'd never felt so betrayed by a day before in my life. It had seemed like this would be the greatest of all the nerdy days known to man. But when my spidey-sense failed to warn me of the dangers and the force failed to fix my electricity I was so distraught I just went upstairs and took an hour long nap. Seriously, I saw no other option. When I woke up and the power was still MIA, I decided offensive action needed to be taken, so I headed over to the Leasing Office of my apartment complex to find out what was happening. As it turned out, what was happening was children. Just children playing and breaking electrical things that powered our side of the apartment complex. Yay for children. (Please recognize the sarcasm of that last sentence.) I was promised that the electricity would be back on that day. However, when I returned from an Avatar: The Last Airbender marathon at around 12:30 am, there was still no electricity.
Luckily for me, I'd just bought that sonic screwdriver. And that thing is bright! I managed to find my way through the darkness and not trip up the stairs (an accomplishment in the light, trust me) and fell asleep after being unsuccessful at charging my phone with what little juice remained of my computer. That night I had a dream, a dream in which the power magically came on in the middle of the night, but when I woke up I saw that it was just a dream. I had to take a shower in the dark, which was terrifying. Terrifying. And I'd forgotten that blow dryers run on electricity. Plus, I live in Tucson, and since I had no power, I had no A/C. It was a dark day, indeed. I felt an irrational wish to use the dark side of the Force to choke someone threateningly and make them fix my electricity. I guess that's why I wasn't born with Jedi powers. Too much anger in me. Anyway, with my Sonic Screwdriver at my side and the need to get to an air conditioned building fast, I left for church.
Right before I went to work I called the "Emergency Number" for my apartment complex and they, once again, promised to take care of this electricity problem. I didn't believe them until my roommate confirmed it. Now, I only spent one night and a few hours without power. I'd hoped it would be like camping. But at least when you're camping you have a lantern and stuff. And food. One thing I did learn, if you want something fixed at this apartment, call the "Emergency Number" first, because those people actually get stuff done. Those fools in the office know nothing of electrical problems. Or customer service, for that matter. And even though the greatest of all the Nerd Holidays didn't go quite as planned, it was still pretty epic. I mean, I got a Sonic Screwdriver out of it, and thing will pay for itself. I've already used it to find the key hole on my car door in the dark and entertain a dog. So Han Solo had to wait, but I was introduced to Avatar: The Last Airbender (which is a cartoon that is entertaining no matter your age) so everything balances out. I'm convinced that the Universe just couldn't handle so much Nerdiness on one day and so it reacted violently to those of us trying to celebrate. Next year should better, with the only freakouts being on the side of the fandoms and not the electricity.
As always, eat more Chicken and stay awesome.
P.S. Sorry for the Nerd Overload. This is just who I am.
The morning of May the Fourth (be with you) 2013 dawned bright and glorious. With money for all the comic book sales I was sure to find in my Batman wallet and enough gas in my car to actually visit my favorite comic book stores, I left my apartment around 9:45 to pick up my Comic Book Mentor, Alex. She was the one who taught me about the joy of comic books. It was a very special day, indeed, the anniversary of my introduction to comic books. I had on my Star Wars shirt and my DC Converse (one with Batman, the other with Superman) and basically I was rocking the nerdy look without actually wearing a costume. It was a great day to be a nerd. Alex and I were joined by new, nerdy, magic playing friends and one Brony. (If you don't understand those references, that's probably OK.) Anyway, everything was great. We started with Heroes and Villains, a marvelous comic book store where some of our greatest nerd friends work. After picking up our free comic books and scouring the shelves for necessary additions to our collections (I found an encyclopedia of Doctor Who) and taking pictures with all the people dressed up (even the My Little Pony group) Alex and I were off to R-Galaxy.
It was here that I found the most marvelous of items. A Sonic Screwdriver, the Doctor's trusted tool. And it was on a keychain. The perfect size. It lit up when you pushed the button on the side. A gem, I tell you, a gem. I bought it, because how could I not at 10% off? Plus, I found some awesome old school Spider-Man comics. It was marvelous. Truly amazing. This is what Free Comic Book Day is all about. Things seemed to be working out perfectly.
After returning home to inspect my spoils, I put on Star Wars Episode IV, because I had one last task to complete on my nerdy checklist for the day. I needed to celebrate May the Fourth in true Star Wars style. I'd barely made it past the beautiful, scrolling sentences when - suddenly!- all the power in my apartment shut off. For no apparent reason. I tried, unsuccessfully, to use the force to turn it back on. I'd never felt so betrayed by a day before in my life. It had seemed like this would be the greatest of all the nerdy days known to man. But when my spidey-sense failed to warn me of the dangers and the force failed to fix my electricity I was so distraught I just went upstairs and took an hour long nap. Seriously, I saw no other option. When I woke up and the power was still MIA, I decided offensive action needed to be taken, so I headed over to the Leasing Office of my apartment complex to find out what was happening. As it turned out, what was happening was children. Just children playing and breaking electrical things that powered our side of the apartment complex. Yay for children. (Please recognize the sarcasm of that last sentence.) I was promised that the electricity would be back on that day. However, when I returned from an Avatar: The Last Airbender marathon at around 12:30 am, there was still no electricity.
Luckily for me, I'd just bought that sonic screwdriver. And that thing is bright! I managed to find my way through the darkness and not trip up the stairs (an accomplishment in the light, trust me) and fell asleep after being unsuccessful at charging my phone with what little juice remained of my computer. That night I had a dream, a dream in which the power magically came on in the middle of the night, but when I woke up I saw that it was just a dream. I had to take a shower in the dark, which was terrifying. Terrifying. And I'd forgotten that blow dryers run on electricity. Plus, I live in Tucson, and since I had no power, I had no A/C. It was a dark day, indeed. I felt an irrational wish to use the dark side of the Force to choke someone threateningly and make them fix my electricity. I guess that's why I wasn't born with Jedi powers. Too much anger in me. Anyway, with my Sonic Screwdriver at my side and the need to get to an air conditioned building fast, I left for church.
Right before I went to work I called the "Emergency Number" for my apartment complex and they, once again, promised to take care of this electricity problem. I didn't believe them until my roommate confirmed it. Now, I only spent one night and a few hours without power. I'd hoped it would be like camping. But at least when you're camping you have a lantern and stuff. And food. One thing I did learn, if you want something fixed at this apartment, call the "Emergency Number" first, because those people actually get stuff done. Those fools in the office know nothing of electrical problems. Or customer service, for that matter. And even though the greatest of all the Nerd Holidays didn't go quite as planned, it was still pretty epic. I mean, I got a Sonic Screwdriver out of it, and thing will pay for itself. I've already used it to find the key hole on my car door in the dark and entertain a dog. So Han Solo had to wait, but I was introduced to Avatar: The Last Airbender (which is a cartoon that is entertaining no matter your age) so everything balances out. I'm convinced that the Universe just couldn't handle so much Nerdiness on one day and so it reacted violently to those of us trying to celebrate. Next year should better, with the only freakouts being on the side of the fandoms and not the electricity.
As always, eat more Chicken and stay awesome.
P.S. Sorry for the Nerd Overload. This is just who I am.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Sometimes I Get a Twitter Account
This is pretty much the story of the events leading up to my new Twitter account. While I've never really felt the need for Twitter before I've been a little intrigued by it. Anyway, about three weeks ago or so - it might have been less time than that, I'm really not sure - a friend of mine sent me this link to sign up for a free, online comic book class which, frankly, sounded amazing. So, I signed up for the class and then kind of forgot about it. But then today I got this email about how my class was starting so I quickly got on the site and started looking around, only to see the suggestion that I should get a Twitter if I didn't have one. I thought, why not? So now I have a Twitter. And I'm seeing some benefits, actually. I have all kinds of news, right in one place. World news, news related to books and authors that I like, funny things that are happening in pop culture. It's pretty great. Plus, it's a great way to get exposure for my writing. Seriously, I already have two followers and I just got the account. Since I'm trying to actually take my writing somewhere, this seems like a pretty great thing. We'll see if I can be funny in small doses. And in the meantime, if you have a Twitter and you want to follow me, that would be cool! Just find me @JessRochelle1
Anyway, sorry this is so short but I just wanted to get this out there! Also, that rooster attack totally left me scarred! Seriously, my leg is now blemished. It's totally not cool. Although, maybe it will give me some street cred. I did survive a brutal attack, after all. Here's hoping!
Anyway, sorry this is so short but I just wanted to get this out there! Also, that rooster attack totally left me scarred! Seriously, my leg is now blemished. It's totally not cool. Although, maybe it will give me some street cred. I did survive a brutal attack, after all. Here's hoping!
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
God Bless Percocet
This, my friends, is the amazing story of the recent (as in last night recent) trip my roommate and I took to the Emergency Room last night. It is a tale full of excitement, fast cars, work romances, and attractive EMT's. It's great, let me tell you.
Anyway, our wonderful little adventure begins last night around 9:30 at night, as I was speaking with my mother on the phone. It was a normal night, nothing to suggest that anything exciting would happen. Except that it wasn't a normal night. I got a text message while I was on the phone and saw to my alarm a text from my roommate, Stephanie, which read, "Can you help me up? I got stuck on the floor." Now, I cannot pretend that I knew what was going on at this moment. I mean, all I could think about was those commercials for the old people that say, "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up." But, I went upstairs anyway to check on my roommate. And she was indeed stuck on the floor. In the process of sitting up on the floor something in her back had popped. Not a good sign, folks. After a (not-so) quick call to the Nurse Hotline to see if that was normal and a phone call to her parents, I managed to help her up and she managed to walk down the stairs of our apartment (which are so steep I usually fall up them at least once a day) and to the car. To the Emergency Room at UMC we rushed. We were quickly followed by dear friends (whose names I will not mention because if I do, I will owe one of them $50) who came to Stephanie's aid with their amazing Priesthood power to give her a blessing.
The boys waited with us for an hour and a half before it became apparent that we wouldn't be getting out of there soon. Knowing they had work and class to go to the next day, we sent them home, bravely facing the dangers of an ER after midnight alone, with nothing but the memory of the laughs we had shared to sustain us. Finally, after what felt like years, we were moved to the hallway, where Stephanie was seen by a nurse and a doctor, who told her that an X-Ray was necessary. So, while she was sent off, I was left in the hallway with a very sleepy crazy man (who really wanted to stand up even though he couldn't even remember his own name) and two nurses who were obviously deep in the thralls of an inter-office romance that was quite distracting to me. Even though all I was trying to do was read Catcher in the Rye. Seriously, they had some definite chemistry going on in that hallway. At least, that's what I thought until the nurse who had seen my roommate left and her supposed boyfriend moved on to the very next nurse who walked into the hallway. And let me tell you, that nurse, so not a catch. I mean seriously, I have no idea how he managed to convince two nurses who were clearly out of his league to be so into him. It was unbelievable. And then came the female paramedic. Who was also under his powers. I'm thinking he uses a magic love potion or something. Plus, I totally didn't like the shifty-ness of his eyes.
Anyway, back to my roommate. After she came back from her X-Ray the nurse came back and brought her some Percocet. Which is when things got incredibly interesting. It only took about twenty minutes for that stuff to kick in and Stephanie found everything around her incredibly humorous. Except the crazy man who was still in the hallway and now very much awake and wanting to share his pain with everyone. Him she didn't like so much. In fact, as we were (finally!) being moved to a room, she looked back at him and said, "That guy has a broken brain." Now, just imagine if you will, that last sentence being said with the most disgust in the planet and you'll understand how my roommate was feeling about that guy from the hallway. Still, though, I hadn't realized the drugs had actually kicked in until we got to the room and turned on the TV. What happened next can only be understood if you have seen the Pringles commercial that involves to guys sitting outside, looking at the moon, and ends in them breaking a chip that causes the entire moon to burst into millions of little cheese pieces. Well, as soon as my roommate saw that commercial, it took her fifteen minutes to stop laughing. And then she started up again when the Doctor asked her how the Percocet was doing.
By the time we made it home, everything was funny. It was around 3:30 in the morning when we left the ER and since we'd been there for six hours, we were hungry. Only, McDonald's employees aren't very nice at 3:30 in the morning and they won't make you anything with bacon in it before 4 am. Which is stupid. Because we were literally fifteen minutes to 4 when they refused to give us the bacon. After making it very clear how she felt about this and getting our breakfast, Stephanie went back to laughing at everything. Some very memorable quotes from the night include these lovely tidbits.
As we drove by a very bright sign. "This sign is too bright. Can we shoot it?"
About the lovely effects of Percocet on the human brain. "You know, Percocet really shows you what a person is really like. I think we should give it to all of our first dates. Like, just a half of a half of one." When I asked her if she thought that was actually a good idea she just said, "This stuff is really fun."
On where she should be getting her drugs. "I think I should go to Mexico. Prescriptions from Mexico are better."
About how much she loves Percocet. "I'm really funny on Percocet!"
It was quite an eventful evening, let me tell you. And now we have a thank you dinner to plan for our friends, a list of movies to watch while Stephanie is under the influence of painkillers and exhaustion. But we learned a lot. Mostly, that an actual emergency room is way not as exciting as any medical show ever created. And definitely not as entertaining as say, Scrubs or Grey's Anatomy or even the show ER. Never trust television, people. Hollywood lies to us.
Anyway, our wonderful little adventure begins last night around 9:30 at night, as I was speaking with my mother on the phone. It was a normal night, nothing to suggest that anything exciting would happen. Except that it wasn't a normal night. I got a text message while I was on the phone and saw to my alarm a text from my roommate, Stephanie, which read, "Can you help me up? I got stuck on the floor." Now, I cannot pretend that I knew what was going on at this moment. I mean, all I could think about was those commercials for the old people that say, "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up." But, I went upstairs anyway to check on my roommate. And she was indeed stuck on the floor. In the process of sitting up on the floor something in her back had popped. Not a good sign, folks. After a (not-so) quick call to the Nurse Hotline to see if that was normal and a phone call to her parents, I managed to help her up and she managed to walk down the stairs of our apartment (which are so steep I usually fall up them at least once a day) and to the car. To the Emergency Room at UMC we rushed. We were quickly followed by dear friends (whose names I will not mention because if I do, I will owe one of them $50) who came to Stephanie's aid with their amazing Priesthood power to give her a blessing.
The boys waited with us for an hour and a half before it became apparent that we wouldn't be getting out of there soon. Knowing they had work and class to go to the next day, we sent them home, bravely facing the dangers of an ER after midnight alone, with nothing but the memory of the laughs we had shared to sustain us. Finally, after what felt like years, we were moved to the hallway, where Stephanie was seen by a nurse and a doctor, who told her that an X-Ray was necessary. So, while she was sent off, I was left in the hallway with a very sleepy crazy man (who really wanted to stand up even though he couldn't even remember his own name) and two nurses who were obviously deep in the thralls of an inter-office romance that was quite distracting to me. Even though all I was trying to do was read Catcher in the Rye. Seriously, they had some definite chemistry going on in that hallway. At least, that's what I thought until the nurse who had seen my roommate left and her supposed boyfriend moved on to the very next nurse who walked into the hallway. And let me tell you, that nurse, so not a catch. I mean seriously, I have no idea how he managed to convince two nurses who were clearly out of his league to be so into him. It was unbelievable. And then came the female paramedic. Who was also under his powers. I'm thinking he uses a magic love potion or something. Plus, I totally didn't like the shifty-ness of his eyes.
Anyway, back to my roommate. After she came back from her X-Ray the nurse came back and brought her some Percocet. Which is when things got incredibly interesting. It only took about twenty minutes for that stuff to kick in and Stephanie found everything around her incredibly humorous. Except the crazy man who was still in the hallway and now very much awake and wanting to share his pain with everyone. Him she didn't like so much. In fact, as we were (finally!) being moved to a room, she looked back at him and said, "That guy has a broken brain." Now, just imagine if you will, that last sentence being said with the most disgust in the planet and you'll understand how my roommate was feeling about that guy from the hallway. Still, though, I hadn't realized the drugs had actually kicked in until we got to the room and turned on the TV. What happened next can only be understood if you have seen the Pringles commercial that involves to guys sitting outside, looking at the moon, and ends in them breaking a chip that causes the entire moon to burst into millions of little cheese pieces. Well, as soon as my roommate saw that commercial, it took her fifteen minutes to stop laughing. And then she started up again when the Doctor asked her how the Percocet was doing.
By the time we made it home, everything was funny. It was around 3:30 in the morning when we left the ER and since we'd been there for six hours, we were hungry. Only, McDonald's employees aren't very nice at 3:30 in the morning and they won't make you anything with bacon in it before 4 am. Which is stupid. Because we were literally fifteen minutes to 4 when they refused to give us the bacon. After making it very clear how she felt about this and getting our breakfast, Stephanie went back to laughing at everything. Some very memorable quotes from the night include these lovely tidbits.
As we drove by a very bright sign. "This sign is too bright. Can we shoot it?"
About the lovely effects of Percocet on the human brain. "You know, Percocet really shows you what a person is really like. I think we should give it to all of our first dates. Like, just a half of a half of one." When I asked her if she thought that was actually a good idea she just said, "This stuff is really fun."
On where she should be getting her drugs. "I think I should go to Mexico. Prescriptions from Mexico are better."
About how much she loves Percocet. "I'm really funny on Percocet!"
It was quite an eventful evening, let me tell you. And now we have a thank you dinner to plan for our friends, a list of movies to watch while Stephanie is under the influence of painkillers and exhaustion. But we learned a lot. Mostly, that an actual emergency room is way not as exciting as any medical show ever created. And definitely not as entertaining as say, Scrubs or Grey's Anatomy or even the show ER. Never trust television, people. Hollywood lies to us.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Why Being a Grown-Up Isn't a Good Idea
Let me tell you the story of how I can, actually, be a grown up when the time calls for it. This is also the story of how it's not fun to be a grown up sometimes. This story, like many other stories that I will end up telling, involves my job. More specifically, the job where I am a job coach at a so called "Ranch" (I'm pretty sure I've made my feelings on the legitimacy of what constitutes a ranch out here in Tucson) which involves me being responsible and helping people better do their jobs. It's great. Until now that it is now summer time, we're working outside, we're in the desert and it's snake season. Not just any snake. Rattlesnake. Which is the worst kind. And as you should know, I am terrified of snakes. They are my biggest fear. But this is the story of how I faced my fears.
Let me set the scene for you:
Recently (Thursday if you must know), I was at work at the Ranch. It was after lunch, and since there were only four clients and two job coaches, everyone was busy working on their respective jobs. I was helping one client prepare supplements for the horses when suddenly a scream broke the silence. All eyes and ears turned to the shed where one of our clients was supposed to be getting out the muck rakes to clean up the horses pen. She kept screaming, "Snake, snake," which of course caused all the clients to run in the general direction of the shed, because, hello, there's something super exciting going on and who wouldn't want to be in on that? Me, that's who. Now, normally even just hearing the word snake will cause me to fear exceedingly. I'm serious. Usually when there is a snake sighting I flee to the nearest possible place of refuge.
Now, here is why being a grown up is totally not a good idea. Because inside, I was calculating how long it would take to get into the house and lock all the doors. But on the outside, I totally had to be calm and convince the clients that it was best to stay away from what could possibly be a snake in the shed and just keep working. The client who discovered the alleged snake was the only one who fled the scene. But as soon as the other job coach confirmed that it was, indeed a snake (and not just any snake, but the dreaded rattlesnake itself) everything sort of deteriorated in our work day. Oh, sure, we got the supplements to the horses and the pen was successfully cleaned out and I managed to keep my clients from going crazy. However, the strangest thing that has ever happened to me, happened. I had no concern for the snake whatsoever. I was more concerned with making sure my clients stayed on task. I was responsible. And adult. And I didn't even fear the snake!!! Amazing.
However, the most exciting part of the story happened after the snake was discovered in the shed. While the other job coach was keeping an eye on the snake situation, mostly just trying to re-find the snake in the crowded shed, I was tasked with calling the fire department so that they could come kill the snake for us. Now, where I'm from, if you call the fire department to come kill a snake for you they would probably laugh and tell you to either kill it yourself or just leave it alone. But I'm in Tucson now, where apparently even the manliest of men do not feel equipped to kill a rattlesnake. Seriously. I would have laughed, except that would probably not have gone over well. But come on, I've actually witnessed my Grandma kill a whole nest of rattlesnakes once while I escaped to higher ground with the dog. If my Grandma can kill a whole nest of rattlesnakes I'd assumed that a guy who works at a ranch, even a ranch that isn't really much of a ranch in my opinion, could successfully find and kill one snake that was hiding in the shed.
As it turned out, it took three firefighters to do that. And unfortunately, I'd been working all day and therefore didn't look my best. So, no husbands were found that day. But at least I learned something about myself that is actually pretty great. I can be a calm and collected adult, even when snakes are involved, when I have to be. But of course, now I'm slightly terrified to walk outside in the dark, lest snakes be lurking and waiting to strike.
In other news, that rooster from before still hates me. He hasn't attacked, but he keeps giving me the crazy eye. I'm fairly certain he's just waiting for the right moment to go all ninja on me again. In the mean time, watch out for snakes and eat a lot of chicken!
Let me set the scene for you:
Recently (Thursday if you must know), I was at work at the Ranch. It was after lunch, and since there were only four clients and two job coaches, everyone was busy working on their respective jobs. I was helping one client prepare supplements for the horses when suddenly a scream broke the silence. All eyes and ears turned to the shed where one of our clients was supposed to be getting out the muck rakes to clean up the horses pen. She kept screaming, "Snake, snake," which of course caused all the clients to run in the general direction of the shed, because, hello, there's something super exciting going on and who wouldn't want to be in on that? Me, that's who. Now, normally even just hearing the word snake will cause me to fear exceedingly. I'm serious. Usually when there is a snake sighting I flee to the nearest possible place of refuge.
Now, here is why being a grown up is totally not a good idea. Because inside, I was calculating how long it would take to get into the house and lock all the doors. But on the outside, I totally had to be calm and convince the clients that it was best to stay away from what could possibly be a snake in the shed and just keep working. The client who discovered the alleged snake was the only one who fled the scene. But as soon as the other job coach confirmed that it was, indeed a snake (and not just any snake, but the dreaded rattlesnake itself) everything sort of deteriorated in our work day. Oh, sure, we got the supplements to the horses and the pen was successfully cleaned out and I managed to keep my clients from going crazy. However, the strangest thing that has ever happened to me, happened. I had no concern for the snake whatsoever. I was more concerned with making sure my clients stayed on task. I was responsible. And adult. And I didn't even fear the snake!!! Amazing.
However, the most exciting part of the story happened after the snake was discovered in the shed. While the other job coach was keeping an eye on the snake situation, mostly just trying to re-find the snake in the crowded shed, I was tasked with calling the fire department so that they could come kill the snake for us. Now, where I'm from, if you call the fire department to come kill a snake for you they would probably laugh and tell you to either kill it yourself or just leave it alone. But I'm in Tucson now, where apparently even the manliest of men do not feel equipped to kill a rattlesnake. Seriously. I would have laughed, except that would probably not have gone over well. But come on, I've actually witnessed my Grandma kill a whole nest of rattlesnakes once while I escaped to higher ground with the dog. If my Grandma can kill a whole nest of rattlesnakes I'd assumed that a guy who works at a ranch, even a ranch that isn't really much of a ranch in my opinion, could successfully find and kill one snake that was hiding in the shed.
As it turned out, it took three firefighters to do that. And unfortunately, I'd been working all day and therefore didn't look my best. So, no husbands were found that day. But at least I learned something about myself that is actually pretty great. I can be a calm and collected adult, even when snakes are involved, when I have to be. But of course, now I'm slightly terrified to walk outside in the dark, lest snakes be lurking and waiting to strike.
In other news, that rooster from before still hates me. He hasn't attacked, but he keeps giving me the crazy eye. I'm fairly certain he's just waiting for the right moment to go all ninja on me again. In the mean time, watch out for snakes and eat a lot of chicken!
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Sometimes I Write Blogs
It's my spring break and since I don't have enough to do with my life - like spring cleaning and getting a head start on the reading for all my classes and generally just getting my life together - I've decided to create a blog instead. This is probably because I was looking for jobs that I could - hopefully! - get after college and became depressed at the words, "Five years work experience required," like it's that simple to get five years experience when every job requires it. So it seems like a great idea to just not worry about that right now and instead start my writing career in a much different way. A way that allows me to fail from the privacy of my own living room in a prolonged sense instead of failing before I've even started. Plus, here's a novel idea, I could actually succeed. And at the very least I'll be writing more which is super important. What's this blog going to be about, you ask? Everything. Life. Books. Things I've learned in class. Interesting things I've seen on Netflix. Crazy things that will inevitably happen to me while working. Crazy things that will inevitably happen to me due to the fact that I'm a clutz. You know, just normal stuff.
Essentially, I just want to write stuff. So I will. And hopefully people will actually read it. I don't actually have anything funny or witty to say write now, which is kind of shocking since I usually feel most creative after I'm supposed to be sleeping. So, instead of giving this whole big story, I'm just going to tell you what it's like to get attacked by a smallish rooster. Repeatedly.
I recently started new hours with my job - I work with people with developmental disabilities - where I am a job coach for what passes as a ranch out here. The set up is actually kind of cool, though. There are horses that need different supplements twice a day, a green house and other garden-y things, some desert tortoises, goats - which are some of my favorite animals - and of course, "free-range" chickens. At first I wasn't too sure about this free range thing, since the chickens don't spend all of their time out of the pen, but after being in charge of their foray into the world of free range I'm completely satisfied with how long they are outside of that wonderful little pen of theirs. One of my clients and I were tasked with the job of making sure they didn't get too far away from the house. We have to be able to find them, after all, if we want to sell the eggs. Everything started out fine; we were basically just herding them around, making sure they didn't go off the property and stuff. But then, when I was walking by a group of them, it was like the medium sized rooster just sensed something in me that he didn't like and - Bam! - attacked like a ninja. Seriously. The thing was fast. It ninja kicked and got my leg with the spurs on it's claw. And it ripped through my supposedly durable jeans. As much as this hurt, and oh man did it hurt, I had to be a professional. So, I just pushed it away with my foot. But after what was probably the fiftieth time this had happened I straight up retaliated with a swift kick in the beak. Unfortunately, that only made the little demon more angry. Probably understandably, from the rooster's point of view. And he retaliated on my retaliation by actually drawing blood this time.
It was fun, for sure. But it totally brought back my - perhaps not so irrational - fear of chickens. The thing is, that rooster still gives me the evil eye every time I walk by the pen. I'm pretty sure he is plotting my untimely death. Or at least the untimely death of every pair of jeans I own. Either way, it's not good. So here's hoping I can be stronger than a rooster that's actually not much bigger than a squished together chihuahua on steroids with the jumping capacity of an NBA player. No matter what happens, this experience has taught me a few things. Like, I can totally handle being attacked by a deranged rooster so long as it's not my clients being repeatedly rooster ninja-kicked. Also, chicken nuggets definitely need to be a bigger part of my diet. I mean, if a crazy rooster is going to harbor a grunge against me then I might as well make it justified by eating his cousins or whatever.
Anyway, I hope people actually read this thing! As our lovely friends at Chick-fil-A like to say, "Eat more Chicken!"
Essentially, I just want to write stuff. So I will. And hopefully people will actually read it. I don't actually have anything funny or witty to say write now, which is kind of shocking since I usually feel most creative after I'm supposed to be sleeping. So, instead of giving this whole big story, I'm just going to tell you what it's like to get attacked by a smallish rooster. Repeatedly.
I recently started new hours with my job - I work with people with developmental disabilities - where I am a job coach for what passes as a ranch out here. The set up is actually kind of cool, though. There are horses that need different supplements twice a day, a green house and other garden-y things, some desert tortoises, goats - which are some of my favorite animals - and of course, "free-range" chickens. At first I wasn't too sure about this free range thing, since the chickens don't spend all of their time out of the pen, but after being in charge of their foray into the world of free range I'm completely satisfied with how long they are outside of that wonderful little pen of theirs. One of my clients and I were tasked with the job of making sure they didn't get too far away from the house. We have to be able to find them, after all, if we want to sell the eggs. Everything started out fine; we were basically just herding them around, making sure they didn't go off the property and stuff. But then, when I was walking by a group of them, it was like the medium sized rooster just sensed something in me that he didn't like and - Bam! - attacked like a ninja. Seriously. The thing was fast. It ninja kicked and got my leg with the spurs on it's claw. And it ripped through my supposedly durable jeans. As much as this hurt, and oh man did it hurt, I had to be a professional. So, I just pushed it away with my foot. But after what was probably the fiftieth time this had happened I straight up retaliated with a swift kick in the beak. Unfortunately, that only made the little demon more angry. Probably understandably, from the rooster's point of view. And he retaliated on my retaliation by actually drawing blood this time.
It was fun, for sure. But it totally brought back my - perhaps not so irrational - fear of chickens. The thing is, that rooster still gives me the evil eye every time I walk by the pen. I'm pretty sure he is plotting my untimely death. Or at least the untimely death of every pair of jeans I own. Either way, it's not good. So here's hoping I can be stronger than a rooster that's actually not much bigger than a squished together chihuahua on steroids with the jumping capacity of an NBA player. No matter what happens, this experience has taught me a few things. Like, I can totally handle being attacked by a deranged rooster so long as it's not my clients being repeatedly rooster ninja-kicked. Also, chicken nuggets definitely need to be a bigger part of my diet. I mean, if a crazy rooster is going to harbor a grunge against me then I might as well make it justified by eating his cousins or whatever.
Anyway, I hope people actually read this thing! As our lovely friends at Chick-fil-A like to say, "Eat more Chicken!"
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