Just Another Rerun

This is just another rerun, pulled from the annals of my OD. (That’s aNNals…not anals, you sickos.) I have been trying to remember Christmases where my will to live was a bit more steel, a little less lace. Here is another entry from the same time period as my previous entry. To give context: this was written and posted on OD back in 2004. I was a senior at college at this time and had several friends that I loved more than words can ever explain. The people mentioned in this entry were the people that stuck with me when others were freaked out after my suicide attempt. I was also madly in love with the Kevin mentioned here…who was an odd music composition major who resembled Ben Folds and I crushed on from the first time I saw him. We had a “Will they-Won’t they” relationship for many years at college…culminating in a kiss in 2004, where I freaked & he decided we should remain friends (which is also probably also written about in an entry somewhere deep in the bowels of this blog)…but…here is a happy Christmastime memory…because…well…fuck, it makes me happy to remember, ok?

The Yahtzee Nazi-Original Posting Dec 2004

I don’t see what the big deal about Jane Goodall is…to my knowledge, she has yet to spend a holiday with my family. So she works with gorillas in the wilderness—wooo. Yes, she’ll get the mocking “woooo” noise that is supposed to symbolize a pseudo scariness, and that’s about it. You can’t know one true reason to shit your pants in fear till you stay with my family.

I don’t know if it’s due to conflicting schedules the rest of the year, or maybe they have to use up all their “crazy” days before the end of the year so they don’t waste them–but my family finds it absolutely necessary to play out some borderline-operatic drama every year.  So here I am, at college knowing that in less than a week, it’s out of the frying pan and into the wolves den. So I like to mix my metaphors–so what?! It saves time. It’ll be the way of the future, I tell you.

We’ll see what happens. I may or may not kill them all, guess you’ll have to keep reading. Mwahahaha.

The other day, I went to my friendly 80 Center Street Girls’ house. They were having their Xmas Spectacular. At the beginning they were joking about having a designated make out place. Unfortunately, the place they deigned the “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas Place” was the picnic table outside. Well it didn’t matter b/c Kev became Dick Extraordinaire and it all came about due to the animosity that Yahtzee evokes from people everywhere. Someone did not have the presence of mind to keep the Yahtzee away from the Catholics at this party and there was almost a massacre. Kev found the Yahtzee game and strides out to kitchen, claiming he dominates the field when it comes to Yahtzee. We laugh at him and question, how, since the biggest part of the game is rolling die, he could dominate Yahtzee playing field. He starts getting pissed off and starts playing the game by himself…shaking the 5 die in his hand. “Kev, aren’t you going to use the cup?” I ask. “FUCK THE CUP!” He says, maniacally, and continues to have at it. Hmmm…So then he’s trying to set Adam up for failure by teaching Allan how to play so that he can play Kevin, and ultimately lose. I don’t know when Kevin hatched this evil plan. I’m pretty sure that it’s a step in the direction of “World Takeover: One Yahtzee Player At A TIMEEEEE!”  So he is yelling at poor Allan, “Don’t DO THAT! Oh my god. *Slaps self on forehead in exasperation over (now ex-)friend’s stupidity and lack of Yahtzee strategy.* YOU HAVE A LARGE STRAIT DOWN BELOOOW” I, wanting to spread Christmas cheer in the form of giggling at what I perceive to be subliminally sexual messages, crack up. Kev looks at me and I’m pretty sure the narrowing of his eyes was part of a spell he was casting on me.  I stop laughing…till my friend Jason comes out and starts making me laugh with his dancing. Kev, thinking I am mocking him in his Cup-Less Glory, yells, “You want a large strait, Roxy? I GOT YOUR LARGE STRAIGHT RIGHT HERE! *flips me off* FUCK YOU!” At this point, no one in the party quite knowing how to respond to such unreasonable SCARINESS moves into the next room…leaving poor Allan trapped in the MiltonBradley Web of despair. As Kevin’s leaving, my 2 friends, Pete and Chris are kinda laughing at him about how he is like the Yahtzee Dominatrix. Kevin tells them that he hopes they suck at student teaching and leaves. The next day he apologized saying, “I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m sorry–I’m the YahtzeeNazi.”

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

The other funny part to the night was when my friend, Jason sat on me. “How you doing?” I gasp, “Wonderfully. How much do you weigh anyway?” “210.” “Sounds about right.” After 5 minutes, I say, “Hey, J? I love you and all, but I’m starting to feel like a toilet.” He stands up, turns around and pushes my ear down like it’s a flusher…and he made the toilet noise. I almost soiled myself I was laughing so hard. But it wouldn’t have bad…all I would have had to do is push my ear down and voila! No one knows.

Auto response from Stusha19: it snowed enough to make things bitchy… but not enough to cancel life..i mean school.. meeting from 12-1, work from 1:30-7p… back here to sit in the fetal position and cry a little
whatvrneveramen: when you’re ready to curl up into a fetal position and cry, come over here…my form is not that good so i need to learn from a master…also is it possible to drink coffee and laugh while in a fetal position?
whatvrneveramen: cuz we could do that as well
whatvrneveramen: i mean, who are we to put limitations to what you can do while imitating a fetus
whatvrneveramen: it would be rather presumptuous of us wouldn’t it?

I had my mock-trying-to-get-a-teaching-job interview with Dornberger/her evil minion. (No, this guy is super nice, he’s a local school administrator and just really easy to talk to…) They start out with the dreaded question, “Tell us about yourself.” I’ve been dreading this question. For weeks, I’ve been interviewing myself in my head and this question always gets me. There is just so much I could fill the answer of that question with that would not get me hired. “Well, I’m a recovering alcoholic–got a love for the vodkkaaaaaa! Wooooot! *lifts up shirt like it’s spring break and flashes interviewers* I’m an Aries and I’m looking for love and—oh yeah, I’m allergic to shellfish. Totally makes me breakout and sweat. I once had to get a shot in my ass by this old dr cuz my face was swelling up like a balloon and we went out on a couple dates after that, cuz I felt close to him, you know?  It didn’t work out, I’m a commitment phobe–hey that’s something else about me. And, Oh! Oh! I forgot–I sent porn to a professor once, if you hire me I can cut you into that deal! I’m telling you, it’s so SA-WEEEET!” Well of course, they asked me. I bobble my way thru it…but I’m like “I can handle this. I can handle this.” They ask me a few educator related questions. Then all of a sudden, they throw in, “What’s your favorite food and least favorite food?” I say that my favorite food is “Caesar salad” and then when I get to my least favorite food, I stammer, “I don’t have a least favorite food…I …*Cessation of thinking starts right about ….NOW!* I will pretty much eat anything that doesn’t eat me first.” Dornberger and Mr. Richmond look at each other and crack up. For a good 5 minutes. They compose themselves and Dornberger deadpans, “I can support that.” Then they ask me how I would deal with a disruptive student. “I know that children act out when there are things going on at home sometimes (*BOY DO I EVER…I STILL DO IT AT 21!*) but I mean, if that wasn’t the case, if it was just them, in general..” They crack up again. I say, “That’s an example of what NOT to say if you want the job. I wouldn’t get hired, would I?” They crack up harder. Then they ask to describe myself in one word and the only adjective that comes to mind besides “fuckedup” is “Indescribable.” I start to laugh and say, “I was going to say something stupid, I will go with humorous.” Dornberger goes, “What was the other answer?” “Indescribable.” She laughed and I felt like the biggest chump. Dornberger loves me though and gave me an A. Haha. HELLS YEAH.

APARTMENT 610, Where Cereal Killers Reside…
“i love cinnamon toast crunch.” -me
“oh yeah?” -Chels
“yeah. i think it might have to get restraining order against me cuz i got all possessive when i saw the milk touching it and having a good time!” -me
“i feel the same way about my golden grahams. i could have a good time with my golden grahams.” -Chels

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December 11, 2019

The oldies are still goodies, I think 🙂

December 11, 2019

I have tried going back to my original entries but I can’t do it without feeling like I’ve dived into a fiery pit of despair and tears… sooo, I quickly jump out of there.

Although not suicide-related, I get the bit about people sticking w/you – I too have parted with all manner of folks who, having known her for 20+ yrs, were magically “too busy” when my Mom got terminally ill. One or two stuck – it’s like having a pure gold nugget found in a pile of rotting trash.

I loooved Yahtzee when I was a kid. I had to laugh at Kev’s attitude because I never liked the cup either! LOL

I’m really glad you had folks who stuck by you after your attempt. It makes all the difference <3

December 11, 2019

Hm. Now that I think about it, you are pretty humorous. You are so good at describing things. I’m jealous of your writing ability.

December 11, 2019

Kev the Yahtzee Nazi sounds like he would’ve dueled someone to the death over a Yahtzee dispute! But I can certainly detect a subtext of sexual tension in your passages involving him. Though the toilet flushing via ear was of course the sexiest aspect of this classic entry.

You kept those interviews in stitches/rolling on the floor laughing so well that an old fashioned spring break flash wasn’t even necessary to seal the deal!

Ah, the days when one’s comedic game was all about the AIM auto response. I would often rely on standard, fill-in-the-blank messages that I would adjust each time. One, used during the school day when students fought fiercely for campus parking, was “And I thought the parking at ___ was bad!” For that, I once went with “the Leonard Nimoy folk revival concert”.

Regarding the golden oldie you resurrected in your previous entry, I laughed at the image of covering the couch with a sheet and giving it a toe tag. When I was in college, me and some dudes went to Good Will and claimed an also “ugly as sin” couch — which came with a surprise bonus: hidden underneath the cushions was a nice necktie. I wore that tie to formal events for years afterward … even though I joked that someone had probably died wearing it.