I have a thousand thoughts going through my mind and can't decide on where to start...do I talk, men, work, friends, failures...?? Hell...my dating scene pretty much covers all of those!
Although, I'm not typing very well because yesterday I was beaten and bruised when I was pushing a mannequin in a wheelchair with one hand, and pulling a computer on wheels in the other down a short, somewhat steep slope which had the computer attempting to sling shot around me and the mannequin to win what must have been a heated race between the two--- it really was roller derby all up in my business and if only the big black guy watching had caught it on video I would surely be an internet sensation by now... damn it, I would be so good VIRAL!. Maybe next time..
So, there I was...dating again.
If I didn't have bad luck with men, I would have no luck at all...you could also exchange the letter L in luck with an F and that would also be true. Seriously....I've spent the last few months doing the casual dating thing and trying to keep an open mind, but is it too much to ask that the date show up on time and not 45 minutes late for a first date...reason being he's just not good with punctuality?... Really fucktard???...that's what you're going with...and the morbid thing I was thinking..."this asshat came up with that as his BEST excuse..what in the hell was really going on?" I'm not sure I should have let this guy buy a vowel much less dinner..but then decided..hey..free meal, and some free drinks the next few times we end up at the same bar again..might as well re-coup my time wasted with some nice adult beverages. Strike one.
Another guy seemed to have some real potential...I should have known when he said he didn't drink that I shouldn't even waste my time- but it really does end up being the little things... this guy couldn't even pick an appetizer much less make an executive decision on something (so I am assuming)..I really do judge a person based on their ability to perform easy, simple, everyday things..hell I pretty much divorced my first husband because he routinely forgot to flush the toilet after he shit or remember to check the mail...it infuriated me to no end...So if a MAN can't get it together enough at the age of 36 what kind of appetizer he likes to eat, then for the love of God stick with dating women who get baffled as easily as you do (because really....in my life- I don't find MENUS to be complex, difficult reading..it's pretty cut and dry, you either like something or you don't, and the last time I checked appetizer menus haven't changed a whole lot). Strike two.
In the end I just want to hang out with my bartender friend Bill...he tells better jokes than me, can keep up with my wit and sarcasm, is hysterically crude, and his Grandfather is from Loogootee. All excellent features in my book. Bill and I get each other. No need for smoke and mirrors, false airs, or even hiding the broken parts of ourselves. We are the type of friends that have evolved over drinks and incredibly bad karaoke. We've shared some of our war stories and left some untold- understanding that some things should remain buried- we have both traveled near and far- lived the good life and the living on shoe string life- We find ourselves in this tiny section of the universe, just trying to enjoy the ride while it's still in motion. He has come to settle in my soul like Suzanne, Tara, Kelly and Carrie- all people who have earned my love and devotion for always accepting me for who I am, for being honest with me and hard on me when I needed it. As simple as it may sound, I don't have really strict criteria for these few splendid folks..I only ask that they see me clearly for the person I am- faulty, funny, moody, goofy, and support me as I stumble and fumble through life. They expect nothing more from me, than me just being me...which is really fucking awesome.
Dear Bill-
You are by far the most politically incorrect, can't believe you called me a slave owner, amazingly hysterical person I know. You may never understand the immense adoration I have for you or maybe you will...just enjoy the ride with me.
Yours-
Brooke
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
April 22, 2014
I had the thought a few weeks ago about "doing something religiously"..I don't have any habits that I can put my finger on. I don't count a morning Dr. Pepper or my preference for Captain and Coke as something I do religiously, because let's face it, those are just evidence of sound decision making..
The very thought though, had me watching my own daily patterns, and low and behold...I found something!! Now, it can't be called a habit because in all actuality- habits and neuroses are two different things. There I was, looking into my bathroom mirror, with my face less than 6 inches from that aging old hag in the reflection and I was taking stock of all the hair covering my face..sure... MOST of it is just the soft, practically invisible peach fuzz stuff that only I can see when I'm religiously looking at it (see what I did there!) and of course there are those random, dark and nasty looking hairs that appear on my chin from time to time to remind me of why I need to be looking so closely in the first place. It is just shocking though how MUCH of that baby fine, translucent hair there is..I'm like a marvel of nature, the first ever albino Sasquatch! I have half a mind to take my mascara wand to my face to prove to you non-believers that it's true- hell my mustache would make Tom Selleck jealous and I can't have that hanging over my head.."Indiana Albino Sasquatch drives Tom Selleck to question his manhood"...There could be someone's life at stake. We can't have that.
I'll just say a fervent thank you to the powers that be that it's remaining invisible to the almost naked eye. If you start staring at my face the next time I see you I might feel the need to jab you in the throat. Consider yourself warned.
Besides my impending journey into full facial waxing, I've also been picking up on a few other things lately..for instance..my two cats who are usually just non-thought provoking, movable furniture pieces, that frequently hog the bed, bark at me if there's no water, or instigate an allergic reaction--- have actually been interesting to study. The ugly cat, (they're sisters) likes to throw herself down in front of Beetle and roll on the carpet. The pretty one (she's cute, but I get the feeling she's not all that bright) tends to stare off at the ceiling and watch an invisible butterfly or something..maybe the spirit of the old man that used to live here, but I digress...what really got my attention the other night was that the two of them were sitting on the floor right next to each other, apparently studying something..I walked into the bedroom, they looked up at me, then back down and I happened to ask what they were looking at (yes I talk to my cats), well they both disperse as if I was coming at them with a flame thrower..and sweet 8 pound baby Jesus they had cornered the world's largest spider (that's only a slight exaggeration)! Aren't they supposed to kill insects and small rodents..or rodent sized insects?? The rat sized arachnid goes scurrying under my bed and now I've got to figure out how to UNSEE that whole mess so that I might be able to sleep at night! You know damn well I didn't get on my hands and knees and look under my bed..who do you think I am, some bimbo in a horror movie? Nope.. not looking under there, like ever. I had to just shake it off...rub some dirt in it..drink some water..I held very tightly to my belief that I was not cruel to animals, ever, and that's why I opted to live in harmony with all creatures. Even ridiculously large arachnids. Oh shut up, what would you have done? The closest thing I had at my disposal would have been a flip flop and what? should I have thrown it under the bed at the spider? That'll show 'em. There was only once that particular night that I jumped out of my skin thinking the spider was crawling on me, but it wasn't...it was just my fluffy facial hair blowing in the breeze.
Dear 8 pound baby Jesus,
First, I want to congratulate you on making such beautiful creatures, big and small. I am sure they are all loved equally in your eyes. I know that the circle of life is really about survival of the fittest, a food chain if you will..but for all that is holy and pure please, please instill into my domesticated house cats a ferocious, take no prisoners stance on hunting insects and rodents, and rodent sized insects. May they not pester and play with those that they hunt but pounce on them and kill them dead, quickly and swiftly and if you feel so inclined, maybe teach them how to put the dead carcasses into the trash.
Your faithful servant-
Brooke-world's-first-documented-albino-Sasquatch- Albertson
The very thought though, had me watching my own daily patterns, and low and behold...I found something!! Now, it can't be called a habit because in all actuality- habits and neuroses are two different things. There I was, looking into my bathroom mirror, with my face less than 6 inches from that aging old hag in the reflection and I was taking stock of all the hair covering my face..sure... MOST of it is just the soft, practically invisible peach fuzz stuff that only I can see when I'm religiously looking at it (see what I did there!) and of course there are those random, dark and nasty looking hairs that appear on my chin from time to time to remind me of why I need to be looking so closely in the first place. It is just shocking though how MUCH of that baby fine, translucent hair there is..I'm like a marvel of nature, the first ever albino Sasquatch! I have half a mind to take my mascara wand to my face to prove to you non-believers that it's true- hell my mustache would make Tom Selleck jealous and I can't have that hanging over my head.."Indiana Albino Sasquatch drives Tom Selleck to question his manhood"...There could be someone's life at stake. We can't have that.
I'll just say a fervent thank you to the powers that be that it's remaining invisible to the almost naked eye. If you start staring at my face the next time I see you I might feel the need to jab you in the throat. Consider yourself warned.
Besides my impending journey into full facial waxing, I've also been picking up on a few other things lately..for instance..my two cats who are usually just non-thought provoking, movable furniture pieces, that frequently hog the bed, bark at me if there's no water, or instigate an allergic reaction--- have actually been interesting to study. The ugly cat, (they're sisters) likes to throw herself down in front of Beetle and roll on the carpet. The pretty one (she's cute, but I get the feeling she's not all that bright) tends to stare off at the ceiling and watch an invisible butterfly or something..maybe the spirit of the old man that used to live here, but I digress...what really got my attention the other night was that the two of them were sitting on the floor right next to each other, apparently studying something..I walked into the bedroom, they looked up at me, then back down and I happened to ask what they were looking at (yes I talk to my cats), well they both disperse as if I was coming at them with a flame thrower..and sweet 8 pound baby Jesus they had cornered the world's largest spider (that's only a slight exaggeration)! Aren't they supposed to kill insects and small rodents..or rodent sized insects?? The rat sized arachnid goes scurrying under my bed and now I've got to figure out how to UNSEE that whole mess so that I might be able to sleep at night! You know damn well I didn't get on my hands and knees and look under my bed..who do you think I am, some bimbo in a horror movie? Nope.. not looking under there, like ever. I had to just shake it off...rub some dirt in it..drink some water..I held very tightly to my belief that I was not cruel to animals, ever, and that's why I opted to live in harmony with all creatures. Even ridiculously large arachnids. Oh shut up, what would you have done? The closest thing I had at my disposal would have been a flip flop and what? should I have thrown it under the bed at the spider? That'll show 'em. There was only once that particular night that I jumped out of my skin thinking the spider was crawling on me, but it wasn't...it was just my fluffy facial hair blowing in the breeze.
Dear 8 pound baby Jesus,
First, I want to congratulate you on making such beautiful creatures, big and small. I am sure they are all loved equally in your eyes. I know that the circle of life is really about survival of the fittest, a food chain if you will..but for all that is holy and pure please, please instill into my domesticated house cats a ferocious, take no prisoners stance on hunting insects and rodents, and rodent sized insects. May they not pester and play with those that they hunt but pounce on them and kill them dead, quickly and swiftly and if you feel so inclined, maybe teach them how to put the dead carcasses into the trash.
Your faithful servant-
Brooke-world's-first-documented-albino-Sasquatch- Albertson
Thursday, April 10, 2014
April 10, 2014
So there I was, sitting buck naked on a bath towel, on the floor of my bathroom, attempting to give myself a sponge bath out of a soup pot because my hot water heater decided to go on strike. No. It's not a pretty sight. But actually getting to the bathing part alive was no small task. The first "bath I drew," I poured equal parts boiling water and tap water into the pot and placed it on the closed lid of the toilet seat. I stepped over to get out a wash rag and I kid you not that soup pot was jumping to its death off the toilet bowl. The crash of the pot induced a wee bit of a dainty shriek but the hot splashing water on my skin brought forth a slew of such filthy vulgarity that Beetle barked and the cats hid under the bed. The good news is my bathroom floor is clean, well at least I thought. So, again.. to the towel and a just right water temperature (second times a charm) in my make shift bath basin sitting perfectly square on the floor. It was fucking miserable. You don't get all fresh like a morning shower kind of wet, you get damp like gross reclaimed water out of the water misters at a theme park wet and then attempting to use the right amount of soap and water is mission fucking impossible..I had the completely wrong ratio of soap to wet wash cloth that the soap was on my skin in a layer that finally started lathering when I was trying to rinse it, then the rinse water was contaminated with the soap water and I hadn't even gotten past my arms yet! and my GOD the HAIR!!! stray, random hair, sticking to my body every where the wash cloth touched...hair from me, maybe Beetle, maybe old Mr. Whosywhatsit that lived here a decade ago, or maybe from the family of rats that are surely living in the walls seeing the size of the hole at the corner of the baseboard under the bathroom vanity! Did the Universe put a "kick me" sign on my back???
But as God as my witness, this is the thought that occurred to me..Man.. I am one lucky asshole that I live in a civilized society with running water, sewer systems, and doors for hiding behind to clean all my dirty bits. Praise God! Can I get an AMEN! And I have to say it. I am a bold faced liar if I EVER told any of you that I liked camping. Bullshit. I have camped overnight... not overnightS! One night does not a camper make. Oh..and all these wild eyed fantasies of traveling on do-good missions to third world countries to help vaccinate the natives and teach them English- HELL NO. I don't need to re-enact this whole "bathing" experience again anyplace that might result in me dying from being bit by a mosquito or mauled by a hippopotamus. I'm pretty sure that in Zimbabwe the dirt floors are incredibly therapeutic for getting those pesky knots out of my back that I get from sleeping on my plush pillow top, 600 thread count sheeted, king size bed, in a darkened room with a fan running, but I'm willing to risk the eternal damnation by keeping my volunteering to places more attuned to someone of my sensibilities. Shoot, I'm not asking for the Ritz Carlton, give me a Motel 6 and I'll leave the damn light on for you.
Dear Maintenance Man,
If I have to drag you down here by your uvula I will..because one thing is for certain...This girl is not, I repeat, NOT about to wait until next week for a new water heater to get installed because you pussy footed around all Friday and didn't make it in time to take care of this monumental problem (emphasis on mental) I am enduring. Shit just got real man and I am not afraid to hold you hostage.
Your faithful, on time, rent paying, don't care if my ass stinks so bad, gonna keep changing my underwear and walking fast so no one is sure it's me that stinks- tenant,
Brooke Albertson
But as God as my witness, this is the thought that occurred to me..Man.. I am one lucky asshole that I live in a civilized society with running water, sewer systems, and doors for hiding behind to clean all my dirty bits. Praise God! Can I get an AMEN! And I have to say it. I am a bold faced liar if I EVER told any of you that I liked camping. Bullshit. I have camped overnight... not overnightS! One night does not a camper make. Oh..and all these wild eyed fantasies of traveling on do-good missions to third world countries to help vaccinate the natives and teach them English- HELL NO. I don't need to re-enact this whole "bathing" experience again anyplace that might result in me dying from being bit by a mosquito or mauled by a hippopotamus. I'm pretty sure that in Zimbabwe the dirt floors are incredibly therapeutic for getting those pesky knots out of my back that I get from sleeping on my plush pillow top, 600 thread count sheeted, king size bed, in a darkened room with a fan running, but I'm willing to risk the eternal damnation by keeping my volunteering to places more attuned to someone of my sensibilities. Shoot, I'm not asking for the Ritz Carlton, give me a Motel 6 and I'll leave the damn light on for you.
Dear Maintenance Man,
If I have to drag you down here by your uvula I will..because one thing is for certain...This girl is not, I repeat, NOT about to wait until next week for a new water heater to get installed because you pussy footed around all Friday and didn't make it in time to take care of this monumental problem (emphasis on mental) I am enduring. Shit just got real man and I am not afraid to hold you hostage.
Your faithful, on time, rent paying, don't care if my ass stinks so bad, gonna keep changing my underwear and walking fast so no one is sure it's me that stinks- tenant,
Brooke Albertson
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