Where I’m headed, the Shady Brady is necessary… ;)
Category Archives: Humor
[NOTE: Got big news for you, but why just blurt it out when I can make it a three-part reveal? :P Here's an attempt at flash NON-fiction...]
“The thing is, it’s been a long time since I traveled with anyone across the country. Thirty two states I’ve done completely on my own. But when I did have someone I could travel with, it was nice. I liked the company. That’s why I’m putting it out there; I need a wingman. A travel buddy. I figured since you’ve been trying to get out of town for awhile and you really don’t care where you’re going, as long as it’s outside Florida, I should give you a try, you know, see if you can really hang the way I need you to hang.”
She nods with understanding, then cranes her neck.
“You see, I have severe trust issues, like, SEVERE. I’m always the go-to person, the rely on person, the one who has to start and end the fights, you know…”
“The Protector type.”
“I can see that about you.”
“Well, I’m a practical person.”
Her order arrives but she’s not touching it. I float my left hand over her tray and insist, nonverbally, she start, but she waves me off, nonverbally saying, I can wait.
“You have to understand when I’m out on my own, I do whatever I want. I engage whoever I want. I plan to be in a state of constant discovery. If not discovering new places and scenery, then discovering how far over the edge can I push someone.”
Now that was a deliberate line because I want to see her reaction. Instead, she offers this:
“I can tell you’re the kind of person who does things within reason.”
“And if you can reason an action, you’ll do it.”
“Also yes. And I need you to go along with it, see? Something’s going down, I give you an instruction, there’s no time for discussion, you do it, you’re in, you’re out. Just like that.”
“Like, if I call your phone, you NEED to pick it up.”
“Right, because if we’re travelling together, what other reason can there be for you to call?”
“Exactly! And if I’m on the other end and I say, ‘go to the car, get the tire iron, bring it to me now!’ you gotta do it.”
Her face turns up, and she makes a half snarl, half sneeze expression to her right side.
“I’d come back with like, seven tire irons because I wouldn’t know which one you’d prefer.”
Left fist into right cupped hand signaled confidence in this proselyte possible progeny.
“Right! And if I only need one, you throw the rest!”
She stands and mimics one crazed urban ninja, tossing tire irons like shurikens.
My order is delivered to the table. The tattoo-sleeved, dark-haired, bearded fella would have been flirtable had I not caught the flatness of his ass.
I part my meal, she divvies hers, and we share plates across the table…
The 4th of July Fill A Bag for $5 was a success! Got 26 articles of clothing in one plastic shopping bag, and it still closed. All those years of packing Army bags, camping rucksacks, even backpacks full of clothes has now become a competitive skill set!
Olga said her record is 36. See you next time, Olga….
My e-boyfriend dumped me.
Gist of the situation is, he can certainly dish it out, but can’t take it. I see it as his Hero Complex mixed with his personal insecurities being projected in our time-delayed interaction. While I’m e-sad about it, I shall e-get over it.
I’m e-single again, and e-looking. ;)
Are online relationships real? Yes! It’s in the word…you are relating with someone on a level other than material. Digital relationships can be just as disruptive as physical relationships, just as ephemeral, just as challenging.
He was cool though. I did enjoy the short time we spent together. Hopefully he gets over being butthurt and we can reconnect as e-friends. Hey, I let all of you know up front – I am a mad woman. Don’t act shocked when you experience it.
I’m so mad right now. Not angry with a someone, I’m angry with an institution, an administration. I’m mad because I followed the bazillion rules they have in order to qualify my disability, and then they turn around and COMPLETELY disregard what they were supposed to honor.
You should know better you silly bitch! No one is looking out for you!
Oh I get it now. The abject discrimination is too much. Lemme have my half my face blown off, okay, we get it, pass on through. But have a debilitating disorder that takes over even the simplest aspects of your life? You need to fill out three hours’ worth of forms, and oh, by the way, we’re gonna go ahead and revoke your benefits before you sign the final page.
No review board. No honoring of appeals. Just….doors slammed shut. Phone calls not returned. Our official decision is…we don’t acknowledge you.
I can’t deal with this. A raw nerve I am, every little nip, quip, snip sets me off. I’m not experiencing despair, just raw, unfiltered…RAGE. I want to talk to someone about it, it’d be REALLY nice if I had a reliable go-to, but instead I have the holier-than-thou people, the ones who tell me they get what I’m going through but have never actually experienced what I’m going through, then follow with a condescending, “you need to get it together. Don’t take things so seriously.” Yeah, you know all about that.
Before I tear open the Feeling Homicidal Emergency Phone Directory, I’m gonna re-watch Maria Bamford’s latest stand up on Netflix, The Special Special Special! because she does deliver an EXCELLENT presentation on the rampant hypocrisy towards the mentally disabled.
If, after watching this, I can’t fight off the rage, I’ll initiate the phone chain.
Help me out, Maria…
Growing up, it was simple: “Are you American?”
If you weren’t American, the next question was, “What are you doing on our base?” If we didn’t like your rationale, we took our American liberty to whoop your ass.
If you were American, the next question was, “What base you from?” To which, you’d want to offer a city we liked, else we whooped your ass.
See? Simple living.
I didn’t grow up with the tendency to cubby-hole all the social interactions I have, like insular Americans (what I call Americans who have ONLY lived in the United States) put in full practice in their modern living. The working vernacular is “marginalization.” That’s defining your comfort with a person based on how they appear, what color they are shaded, how they smell, and which socially acceptable attributes they display.
Because it is not natural for me to pronounce my race/sex/ethnicity/nationality/sexuality/etceteraetcetera, I don’t do it with my art. You don’t see emblazoned across my website banner VON SIMEON – ULTRA-BLACKTINO NON-NATIVE WOMAN WITH SEXUAL TENDENCIES YOUR PARENTS DISAPPROVE OF… I mean, honestly, that’d be a busy header! Instead, I go with Plato, Socrates, and Cato: Von Simeon – what I do, thus what I am/who am I to others without intention/where my mind is when affected by society. Nice ‘n’ Neat.
I promised myself when I released my novel, I would not campaign with an adjective before the word ‘author.’ I am merely that – the author of my book. The last two months I did decent with general sales but absymal in representing my work without getting forced into a social cubby-hole. I received derogatory statements regarding my sex, my race, my ethnicity, and those statements then erroneously defined the quality of my book.
Bookstore owners demonstrated the same abject marginalization. There was an opportunity for I Blew Up Juarez to be featured in one of Tampa Bay’s [adjective] bookstores. According to the bookstore owner, she is well connected in her sub-population and felt her endorsement for my work would be a step up in the [adjective] reading community. A bystander to our convo in her store looked me straight in the face and pronounced, “We need to support all [adjective] authors”, then provided a heavy nod to indicate insistence, or maybe because he summitted that soapbox too quickly? To which I blinked my large brown eyes to him and replied, “Thank you for that, I have copies in my car, would you like to purchase one?” The bookstore owner looked at him, and he said, “I wasn’t prepared to purchase a book today.” Ah. Yet you’re in a bookstore…for…?
Like so many other [adjectives], everyone’s ready to politick about what should be done, but no one necessarily wants to be the one to take action. I retrieved my review copy of I Blew Up Juarez from her last week; I didn’t care to play to grandstanding, even if they are my “people.”
Don’t get me wrong, there are some hilarious moments. I gave you some negative examples, but my common exchanges are mellow; if anything, people tend to react much like Brian does at the dinner table:
All I can do is laugh, because otherwise I’d go on a killing spree. :D
As in ‘go’, as in ‘green light’…clean ups on every page. Especially check out my I Blew Up Juarez tab…did I answer your questions satisfactorily? Think I covered ‘what is the book about?’ and ‘where can I find it?’ as succinctly as possible. And please do Like the page, but only if you mean it ;)
You know how you look at a thing too long you don’t know if you’re done? I’ve updated two of my Pages, “All About Von” and “Make Contact”. Well if you could just dance through those, offer edits where necessary, so I can stop looking at this, I’d really appreciate it!
Going to walk away and shower while you do that. Maybe eat lunch. Yeah, lunch…