Public Rudity, Part 1
written on Thursday March 8, 2007 about My Mean Girl
"Is she really that mean?"
Since I started writing this blog, that’s the question I get asked the most.
Just because you don’t see the evilness unfold on a day-to-day basis, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. You might not see a million dollars every day, but somewhere, some untalented hack of a musician probably just made his first. That bastard. Anyway…
Car-lington Road
Even people who are just a few feet away from my girlfriend and me have no idea of what happens behind their backs.
Once, while Annie and I were riding in the car with her mom (please ignore the fact that this sounds like we’re 13 years old and our parents arranged a play-date for us), Annie sat in the passenger seat and looked at me in the back seat through the car mirror. She glared and pointed angrily.
I’ve been told that a good story should have both a cause and effect. But you may notice that there wasn’t really a beginning to the mirror incident. That’s because she did it for absolutely no reason. Yes, I am subject to random and spontaneous anger-filled pointings that are done in complete secrecy. Just a quick little one-on-one moment of animosity while the world bats its eyes.
Part of me wanted to alert her oblivious mother of how her lovely daughter was behaving, but I’ve seen too many movies where the protagonist tries to approach the higher powers with the truth… And being set up as the fall-guy to a car bombing of a federal building is a fate I’d like to avoid.
RIP the jacket
written on Friday February 9, 2007 about My Mean Girl
While visiting Annie in Los Angeles, I had to do laundry and wash the only jacket I packed for the trip. This activity ended with her washing machine shrinking my jacket. Or it might have been the dryer—the case is still open.
Another week passes, beckoning another cycle of laundry. As I’m transferring my clothes to the dryer, something glimmers in the dark void of the washing machine. Not only did the washer shrink my jacket, it tore the zipper right off!
Some of you may be wondering, “What does this have to do with Annie being mean? It’s the machine’s fault!” Do not be deceived!
Until the incident, my jacket led a calm and peaceful life, enjoying the leisurely cleansing process at home. Then Annie’s machine gets a hold of it, shrinks it and somehow savagely separates the zipper from it.
I don’t think I can take anymore pillaging at the hands of these evil machines that Annie has somehow programmed to destroy only my jackets. It’s so cold. So very cold.
The half-full optimist
written on Thursday February 1, 2007 about My Mean Girl
Annie: I want to stuff cotton balls in your mouth…
In the grand scheme of things, that’s not such a horrific threat. I mean, she wanted to flush me down a toilet just one year ago. Cotton balls are nothing.
Annie: And then gag you… And then molest you…
How come every time she says something, it just gets worse? Well, I guess being gagged and molested by your girlfriend isn’t too terrible. I’m getting a service that some people would pay for (in Las Vegas).
Annie: And then kill you.
I give up.
You don't want to walk a mile in my shoes
written on Friday January 26, 2007 about My Mean Girl
Something was in my shoe, causing discomfort. What a boring blog post. But wait! Annie saves you from sitting through a stale story, throwing a car accident on the road to our bland and banal discussion. When I said something was in my shoe, she replied,
Annie: I hope it’s a shard of glass.
The comeback
written on Monday January 22, 2007 about My Mean Girl
While browsing for some books at Borders, I see Annie checking out some of the non-book impulse buy items that they’ve scattered near the cash registers. I can’t see the label of the product she’s holding so I ask her,
Chris: What’s that?
Annie: Something you need… Ugly-Face-Be-Gone
Sure, that’s not childish at all… Wait, forget that. I could’ve said something like, “Yeah, because I need YOUR ugly face to be gone. Yours is the ugly face. Be gone, ugly face.” Damnit, I need her to say her exact response again so I can unleash my genius comeback that will surely make her ugly face be gone by exploding from shock.
Anyway, with Valentine’s Day approaching, I can only hope that she gets me something I want rather than “something I need”.
Sleeping Rudey
written on Friday October 27, 2006 about My Mean Girl
As I wake up, Annie walks in the bedroom, looking concerned. She comes closer and asks if she was mean to me last night.
She really couldn’t remember!
My new theory is that she falls into a trance-like state of consciousness when she’s angry with me. Of course, there’s a part of me that wonders if she’s just setting up a nice little back-story to accompany her future plea of temporary insanity during my murder trial. (This story will be automatically mailed out for the jury’s consideration, should I die of unnatural causes.)
Well, unsurprisingly, the answer to her question is yes!
I tried to wake her up in the middle of the night so she could finish doing some work she had to take care of. She quickly became very frustrated with me and was yelling things that you can only mimic if you’re half-asleep or if you lost the mobility of your tongue.
Now before all the sleep lovers sacrifice me to the sleep gods, the only reason I tried to wake her up was because she asked me to before she took her “power nap”. She planned it all. She set me up. That’s entrapment!
Everyone be nice to everyone
written on Friday September 29, 2006 about My Mean Girl
As I mentioned earlier, my girlfriend is studying for the GRE. Since the exam date is near, Annie has bunkered down and is studying feverishly.
While on the phone, she mentions that it’s a very critical week and that I should be extra careful not to upset her. Despite being severely offended that she thinks I have the requisite skills needed to upset her on a regular, weekly basis, I told her I would be on my best behavior.
(But the second she finishes that test, it’s on.)
Anyway, still on the phone… I ask her to tell me what she’s wearing. She tells me. I reciprocate and describe what I’m wearing: a silk robe, bedroom slippers and an antique smoking pipe in my left hand, for those who are wondering. She quickly responds, “I didn’t ask.”
Chris: You’re being a jerk!
Annie: So?! This whole week you have to take it!
Silence over the phone line. The once barely audible background static seems to be getting louder. Then it’s drowned out again by the sound of Annie saying,
Got that?
Silence, once again…
Forget Annie, I suggest everyone be careful not to upset me this week.
Feel free to browse through all the stories.