Category Archives: Miscellaneous Plans for Success
Don’t they say that we create the future that’s predicted? Like when people predict trouble in the stock market, people start selling their stocks which basically causes the crash they predicted? What if all this Zombie talk has scientists in their labs trying to create zombies? I know there’s that flower that makes zombie ants, so I bet there are scientists out there trying to replicate it in rats or something. I think we should all keep an eye on the local rats to make sure they aren’t running around all dead and stuff. I’m sure they’ll say they’re trying to come up with possibilities for how they’ll be created so they can cure the zombie disease when it actually happens. But that’s not true…Did they not learn from Frankenstein? Science CAN go wrong, and it CAN become something you can’t control. I hope the government has some sanctions on zombie creating…in fact, if the military is having zombie training exercises then I bet they already know the hows and the whens of the upcoming zombie apocalypse. The government is sneaky like that. Guess I should get some zombie bullets, and some various weaponry in case of an outbreak. I read that the safest place to go would be a military base so perhaps I’ll do that….I hope they have twinkies…wait…nevermind.
Maybe they will make a vaccine you can get to prevent you from getting the zombie bug…like the flu shot. But if it works anything like the flu shot they have now, then the vaccine will just cause the zombie apocalypse because I’m pretty sure the vaccine for the flu causes the darn flu. I’m sort of anti flu shot, if you haven’t guessed.
I just googled Zombie Rats and found that they do exist….are you kidding me, science??
Usually when someone is going to take you, they’ll cover your mouth with their hands, or put a gag in your mouth to keep you quiet. But ventriloquists can be just as loud with their mouth closed as I can be with my mouth open. They can even articulate words and sentences without moving their mouth, so I bet it’s pretty hard to kidnap a ventriloquists and keep them quiet. They could even yell in different voices to make people who could hear think there are several people being held hostage so they’ll speed up the rescue process. They could probably even throw their voice to sound like cops are outside threatening the kidnapper. They could yell things like “we’ve got you surrounded” “release the hostage and all your requests will be met”, you know, things like that.
I should probably start working on my ventriloquists skills just to ensure my safety.
Actual conversation with my husband. Actually, it’s a mostly one sided conversation where Chris just gives me strange looks because I am irrational. Obviously.
Chris: I almost bought the movie Jaws
Me: We don’t need that movie
Chris: Why not?
Me: I’m already afraid of the ocean. I don’t need anymore help with that
Chris: What? You’re afraid of the ocean, but you want to go to the ocean for vacation in August?
Chris: So, you aren’t getting in the ocean?
Me: A little
Me: I’m more likely to get in the ocean than I am to get in a lake
Chris: (strange look)
Me: I’m afraid of the lake
Chris: (more strange look but now it looks like if maybe he’s wondering what he got himself into with this marriage)
Me: I’m afraid of fish. I’m afraid they’ll bite me. And those hidden underwater trees? Those freak me out.
Chris: Is that why you don’t like to eat catfish?
Me: No, it’s already dead and can’t stab or bite me. I just don’t like to eat fish.
Chris: (continued strange looks)
Me: Also, I believe that there are snakes in lakes
Chris: There ARE snakes in lakes
Me: SEE?? I’m not getting in the lake. I was tortured as a child. The only way I’ll get in the lake is if I’m thrown off the tube. Which is why I’m really good at tube wars. I can stay on for a crazy long time. But when I get thrown off I float on my back and/or kick my legs and move my arms as much as possible so I scare the bitey animals.
Me. It’s a survival skill.
Chris: Why are we talking about lakes? We don’t even have plans to go to the lake.
Me: Stop judging me.
I’m prepared for many situations, like scary children in the desert, break-ins at church, potential direct tv man attacks and other random situations no one ever thinks about. But I was not prepared for a printer attack. I’m sitting here working, minding my own business, listening to the radio and the giant printer/fax/scanner/monster starting making noises and spinning it’s wheels. Out. Of. Nowhere. For like 30 seconds it just growled and spun and I was just waiting for it to print some paper out with something threatening on it. I even recorded it. And I sent the video to my husband. He replied with “it does a self clean where it checks the ink levels and crap like that”.
So maybe it’s not possessed. Maybe I’m just paranoid.
This thought originated with the following sentences: I want to speak another language right now. And I want the dogs to understand me.
Then I realized that both our dogs are German, so obviously I need to learn German. Maybe that would make Max less angry. Maybe he’s mad that no one respects his language enough to learn it. Or maybe he’s mad that all the signs are in English. Or maybe he’s mad that we don’t let him wear hats. Do Germans wear hats? I feel like they do. I’ve been to Germany, but it was a long time ago, so I don’t remember. Time out. I just realized I know a word (1, one, single, uno) in German. “NO”. <– that was english, don't get confused. I know how to say no in German. Next time the dogs act out, I'll yell NO in German and see if they respond better. I'll let you know. Actually, I probably won't because I'll forget or lose interest before I even publish this.
So, the cable guy came to the house today. I picked an installation time of 12-4 (you know, because they’re never specific) and he called me around 9 this morning to say he could be here in 15 minutes. Cool!! That works out nicely. Except I’m home alone. Kind of. The dogs are here and they’re vicious and carry knives so don’t get any ideas. Anyway, I tell Chris that he’s on his way. Now, at this point, I’ve run some “scenarios” through my head…just in case…ya know? Like what happens if he attacks me…etc… Chris replies to me saying stuff about guns and knives and a machete, you know for an FYI and just in case something happens so I’ll know where to find it all. Ok, yeah not like I wasn’t ALREADY paranoid. Thanks. So I make sure the dogs are loose so when he knocks, he will hear them being all crazy and killer like. When he gets here, he is totally polite, very friendly looking. But you know, the friendly ones are the ones that’ll get ya. Like that Joran dude, or that handsome guy bandit (seriously that’s what he was called). So, when he went back to his truck, I took a picture of his paperwork that had his tech ID on it and I sent it to K-Star. Just in case. I tried to get a pic of his face, but I was afraid he would catch me. I described him to her though. and to Chris. Just covering my bases.
ANYWAY…here’s where I realize I need help. Like mental help.
He needed to go in the attic, and the stairs are upstairs behind my desk. So the first time he went up there, I was downstairs when he came down. Well, while I’m up at my desk he comes back upstairs and goes in the attic again…my brain got loose here. I started thinking, what if he’s just going up there so he can come down while I’m sitting here and he can sneak up behind me. (uh, duh, I would hear him coming…idiot). Then when he actually started coming down the attic stairs, I brought my hand up to my throat…palm out. And just held it there. In case he tried to strangle me. Yes. I did that. Wow. That amazed even me. As I was doing it I was like oh my gosh, you have your hand to your throat. You’re clinically insane. You shouldn’t be left alone. Ever. Especially since at that point I was talking to myself in my head. Awesome.
Well, it’s official. I’m packing up and moving from the Dallas area to the Houston area in February. My (almost) husband’s job is relocating him, which means they’re relocating me.
Dilemma #1: I have no job after January 31st.
Dilemma #2: We have to have a place to live and the place we really like and want costs money.
Solution #1: I will be a hooker. Except I don’t think I would be a very good hooker because I don’t like sleezeballs and from what I understand a lot of sleezeballs get hookers. And I don’t want to be arrested, and I don’t think I would be able to tell if the “john” was undercover or not. Also, there are a lot of other hookers out there, and since Houston is a big city, it’s probably a pretty competitive market. Also, I don’t feel like I would handle getting slapped around by a pimp very well. I don’t like abuse. Nevermind about the hooker thing.
Solution #2: I will be a pimp. A pimp of guys. I will find willing Houstonian men and make them work for me. And they will pay me. Unless they someday realize that there is only one of me and several of them (because I would be a successful pimp and would have a lot of guys working for me, because I’m entrepreneurial and stuff) and that if they join together they could take me out (like murder not like on a date). I don’t think I would like murder so I could not be a pimp. Also, I don’t think very many women would pay for it. Women can just basically get it for free. Nevermind about the pimp thing.
Solution #3: Get a real job. So. Um, someone find me a real job please…
You know when you’re around someone with a knife and they think it’s funny to pretend to stab you? Well, that scares me. I don’t like the thought of being stabbed or pretend stabbed. That would hurt so bad. I can barely handle a papercut or a cat scratch. I can’t imagine how bad it would hurt to have sharp metal stuck in you. I feel pretty sure that if I did get stabbed, I would want them to leave the knife in there though. Mainly because I KNOW it’s going to hurt going in so I bet it extra hurts coming out. Secondly, I have a nail in my tire now, but the air stays in. If I take the nail out, the air will go out. So maybe if the knife is left in, the blood and organs will stay in until I can safely but urgently arrive at the hospital.
I really hope it’s only 1 knife though. because another tire had 2 nails in it, and the air didn’t stay in.
I also hope it’s just a knife. I know sometimes people stab people with other sharp objects. I don’t understand how un-sharp objects stab. I feel like that would probably hurt most. Like rebar. People get stabbed with rebar when they fall. Holy Ouch! No. How hard to you have to fall to get stabbed with rebar? Why is rebar where you fell? Why is rebar always rusty? ….so many questions
On our latest visit to the Houston area, we went to Logan’s Steakhouse and got it to go. Chris ordered chicken strips/fries but got no ketchup. So, we just decided to go to the Walgreens next door. No Ketchup. None at the Shell station next to Walgreens. WHERE IS ALL THE KETCHUP, HOUSTON? So I came up with the brilliant idea to go to McDonald’s, order a small fry and get all the ketchup you can carry. What if it’s behind the counter you ask? Well, here’s what you do: say you have an addiction to ketchup and you have only purchased the frys to satisfy your ketchup craving and so you can eat the ketchup without looking like you’re insane just eating ketchup straight from the package. People can’t argue with an addiction or a crazy person because they’re afraid of what kind of other crazy you might be. If they resist giving you more ketchup, then just give them some crazy eyes and say give me the freakin ketchup. Now. Smart people will give you the dang ketchup. So, Chris went inside McDonalds to act out “the plan”. After about 5 minutes, he came out looking defeated. I thought, how could my plan fail? Well, here’s how: He had a large fry and 6 ketchup packets. That was clearly not the plan. It failed because I said get a small fry. And act crazy. Crazy would have more than 6 ketchup packets. Or maybe it failed because people are stingy with their ketchup. Anyway, we finally got back to the hotel, got out the ironing board/TV tray, sat at the end of the bed and enjoyed our nice Logan’s Steakhouse meal while watching the miserable Cowboy’s game.