You guys sure make it hard for a fella to feel sorry for himself…
December 9, 2008
Original this post was titled “When Second Life isn’t enough…” which refers to escapism factor that SL provides which, I’d argue, we all need sometimes. And how, occasionally, that isn’t always enough to distract us from RL problems that are out of our control and weigh on us heavily.
And yes, I photoshopped that picture to seem broodier then the scene actually was.
Here’s a true, funny anecdote (that also serves as a bit of foreshadowing):
About six months ago I woke up one morning and noticed my baby, ring and middle finger on both hands were kind of numb. Weird, I thought and went to work. At work, during a slow part of the day I decided to investigate this issue. I googled “numb fingers” and all the blood left my face. The list of maladies that the multicoloured search engine spewed out at me was truly frightening. I began to panic.
After work I walked down to the free clinic and told the doctor my problem. He looked at my hands, asked a few basic questions — then he tilted his wrists downwards and asked, “have you been spending a lot of time with your hands like this?”
I looked down at his hands, wow, I thought, he looks just like he’s holding a Nintendo DS and playing Contra 4 for hours upon hours like I have… Oh.
It was a pinched nerves.
Hopefully some of you are smiling, perhaps while shaking your head in a slightly condescending fashion.
Cut to today: Over the past 2 weeks I’ve had some weird symptoms. And yes, I did google them. And yes I have thoroughly scared the living shit out of myself. And yes, I know I shouldn’t have done that.
I’ve been to my doctor and tests have been performed. Unfortunately, I will not know the results until Thursday. So, right now I’m just trying to stop myself from deleting all the porn off my computer in preparation for my untimely demise.
Why am I telling you all this? I dunno. Therapy? To explain my recent absence for the blog scene? Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter. All I know is, I’ve got a whole virtual world full of talented and interesting people on the other side of my monitor and it’s time to stop brooding about things that are out of my hands. You people out there, you are my placebo.
So in the spirit of saying fuck it, let’s just move on, I’d like to request people reply (if you feel the need to reply) to this post by telling me about something that made you laugh, or about someone you love, or about that time you were walking around your apartment naked all day and you suddenly realized that your curtains were wide open the whole time.
Boned 
I tripped up the stairs earlier. 😀
I got to spend time my with my favorite rat lover tonight and some amazing friends. I found out that some people do prefer one ball to four and cold sores to genital warts. Who knew?
Keep logging in and one day you too might be able to catch Sehra kicking my ass in the mud pit.
I once got my shoe laces caught in an escalator at a shopping mall. I was scared it would cut off my foot when it got to the top so I started to panic and cry. I was TWENTY TWO years old, for crying out loud! 😦
One Sunday morning, many years ago, I was at brunch at a diner with Myg, her then boyfriend (that’s how long ago it was), and two other friends, one of whom I had just met the night before. I was eating a cheeseburger. Not really brunch food, but I wanted one. It was a crowded, noisy dining room. We had waited for a table.
With my mouth *crammed* full of cheeseburger, I suddenly had to sneeze. There was no time to wait, I brought my fist to my mouth and tried keep it closed. I sneezed incredibly hard. I felt the impact of chewed burger and bun in my sinuses and my fist. My eyes were shut. The room was quiet. Oh no. I opened my eyes and it was worse than I imagined. There was chewed food all across the table, in other peoples’ food, in their hair… and I had to inhale the already chewed food out of my sinuses and back into my throat to get them clear. It was among the grossest, most embarrassing moments of my life. We’re still laughing about it.
The only reason I walk around my flat naked is BECAUSE I have no blinds. I know I’ll never be able to do this when I’m 60 – well, scratch that, I’ll be able to do it, but who wants to think of a naked oldster with both feet and breasts dragging on the ground? – so it’s worth a laugh now.
In re: Alex Burgess’s story above, I can verify it’s veracity and add, “And that’s the moment when I knew someday this man would be the father of my children.”
Our rubbish day is on Wednesday.
We take turns.
Yesterday was not my day.
My flatmate still managed to leave a bag of rubbish next to the front door.
On the way to my bedroom I got to see it, staring at me saying “if you do not throw me out now I promise to stink your bin with my rotting mess till next Wednesday”
It had to be done.
I ran butt naked at 3am to throw the fucker out.
On the side note, I never sleep in my underwear. I feel free to dream that way.
❤ ya’ Bone.
Once ( and many times after I’m sure ) I was looking all over for my glasses and I couldn’t find them. Not in my purse, case, work bag, anywhere! Until.. I walked in the bathroom and looked in the mirror. They were on my head. -_- yeah it’s like that!!
I once (many moons ago) was sitting in an apartment complex parking lot smoking a joint with my friend and staring in someone’s open curtains across the way. Suddenly the owner of the apartment (male) shows up VERY NUDE and at full attention. He proceeds to walk to the window, touching himself, and stare out for a few minutes, finally walking away.
Most hilarious thing ever.
Can’t think of anything funny, but I’ve been laying in bed all day, home sick from work, and I never googled a single symptom. 😀
In true Ivy fashion, mine is the blondest of all blonde moments 🙂
One day the power had blinked long enough to need to reset all of the clocks in the house. I finished that task and hoped it didn’t affect anything else. Later that day I heard our carbon monoxide detector go off. Not knowing what to do, as this was my first experience ever with that, I got my kids out of the house. I walked to my neighbor’s house and called the gas company. They told me to call 911. I called 911 and waited for the fire department. They went in and a few minutes later came out laughing so hard I thought they would fall over in their suits! One of the guys nicely walked up to me in my panicked state and said that the good news was that I was free from carbon monoxide leaks. The bad news was that whatever event I had set my alarm clock in the kitchen to remind me of, I’d missed. I had never even heard the alarm clock in the kitchen since I’d only used it for music while I cooked! I guess while I was resetting the clocks, I accidentally set the alarm to the on position. The clock was so close to the detector that I hadn’t stopped in my panic to see which one was making all that noise! I am certain those firemen still laugh at their own special blonde joke 🙂
Oh lordie, the stories I could tell. I am awesome at making an ass of myself.
When I lived in Spain, I thought I’d be brave and attempt my (admittedly poor) spanish speaking skills with the man in the convenience store up the street from my house. I figured the weather was a safe bet, and cheerily told him, “I’m hot.” (It was about 100 degrees out that day.) He looked at me with a grin and told me he’d see me later.
When I got to work, I was telling my coworkers about it and saying that he was really odd in his reaction. They made me repeat what I’d said in spanish and then THEY started laughing at me. Turns out that what I’d said, while literally correct, really means more like, “I’m horny.”
On the bright side, he was very nice to me all summer.
An Actual Conversation That Happened In My Car:
*Little girl’s voice pipes up from the backseat*: Mom, did you know that burps are called mouth-farts?
*radio is blasting, and young boy’s voice is telling little girl she’s wrong, so Mother can’t hear*: Birds are called what?
Little girl, suddenly worried that she used a word she shouldn’t, says: Burps are called mouth-passed-gas.
*young man is still arguing that she is incorrect, and little girl starts waving her hands at said young man in a vain attempt to get him to be quiet*
Mother, turns radio down, and tells young man to let the girl talk, to which he argues that he is: Birds are called mouth-passed-gas?!
Little girl shouts, smacking the young man: Burps are called mouth-passed-gas!!!
Young man shrieks that little girl hit him.
Mother: OH! Who told you that?
Little girl: Mrs. Lee (her teacher)
Mother raises her eyebrow: Mrs. Lee told you that.
Little girl changes her story: A boy at school told me.
Young man is still protesting, trying to get mother to look at his wounds.
Mother: Well, some people might say that, but it’s not very polite.
Young man gives little girl vindicated grin.
Little girl laughs at young man, and says: Can we watch Charlie Brown Christmas when we get home?
Mother shakes her head, sighing…