Jul 05 2006

A Story

Once upon a time, it was a beautiful day in Northern California. Lovely children gathered in a grassy meadow to play. They spoted a beautiful, magic pony and lured it closer. It was attracted to their joyfulness and beauty.

“Come here pretty pony.”

And then they strung it up and beat it.

They were vicious. Relentless.

The pony tried desperately to get away, but they beat it back down. They even took turns.

They finally broke its neck and the magic pony’s life was ended. Yet they continued to savagely beat the dead body.

When the interest in bashing the corpse around had waned, they feasted on the innards.

Then they went inside for cake.

And the pony’s poor, brutalized body was left swinging in the trees for the birds to pluck.

The end.
Jul 05 2006

Shit Starter

Today is my Monday. Even though it is actually Wednesday, it still feels like Monday. Already I feel like punching one of my co-workers. Even at only three days long, it could be a very long week.

I seem to have a lot of pent-up hostility lately. I blame it mostly on my co-workers who treat me like shit and I can’t do anything about it. It seems that, because I can’t take it out here at work, I find other ways.

On Saturday, John, Cole, my sister, and I went to the Farmer’s Market. To go there, the easiest place to park is on main street. We got there a lot later than usual and parking was kind of slim. I found a place behind a motorcycle with a trailer and turned on my blinker to show I was going to pull in (back first- the only way to parallel park). But the owner of the motorcycle was standing in the parking place. When we asked him to move, he and his wife gave us some bullshit line about the truck behind us being too close and that we would never be able to pull in (which is crap because I’m an awesome parallel parker- I used to parallel park a BUS for cryin out loud). We decided it wasn’t worth fighting about (and he wouldn’t MOVE) and found another place a little farther up.

I was going to just try to let it go until I saw that they had just been saving the place for their friends who were also on a motorcycle with a trailer (side note- what dumbass bothers to ride a motorcycle and then puts a trailer on it? It totally defeats the purpose). It just infuriated me. (Here’s where the pent up rage comes in) As we were walking past them, my big, fat mouth opened and I said “You people are assholes. Talk about fucking being childish- saving spots.” To which the guy responded “What did you say?” and I shot back over my shoulder “YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE.”

What I didn’t realize is that John decided to stop and calmly explain where he thought I was coming from. He started to tell the guy that I was just irritated that we had tried to park and that, instead of telling us that they were trying to save a spot for friends, they lied and said we couldn’t fit in.

But this guy decided that he would try to pick a fight with John. He started stepping up on him and called him a “nerd”.

If you know my husband, you would know that he IS a nerd. Totally and completely, and he is not ashamed of it at all. But, besides his glasses, he doesn’t look like a nerd. He looks tall and fit and has huge, wide shoulders. He looks like a soldier on leave. This guy who was picking the fight was easily in his late 50s/early 60s and was overweight. I don’t know what he was thinking, trying to pick on my husband. Further evidence that he’s an idiot, I guess.

So John responded by calling him a “fat fuck.” It was hilarious, really. I wish you all could have seen it.

My sister and I pulled him away as they were about nose to nose and we continued to the market. When we came back they were gone.

Yes- I realize I was an idiot for saying anything, especially the WAY I decided to say it. I felt like an asshole the minute the words were out of my mouth. I was PMSing, too- did I mention that before? I had all the rage stuff going against me. It doesn’t excuse my poor behavior, but it might explain it a little better.

But is it wrong that when my husband was defending me I thought he was mighty hot?

John immediately went and got a very butch haircut. And we had something to talk about with our friends all weekend. Perhaps it was worth it just for the story.