Days till Menopause: 8
Ah, Mondays.
It's becoming more and more of an effort lately to even attempt getting out of bed in the morning, never mind to actually find the willpower to crawl out from beneath my toasty warm blankets and trot off to take a shower.
What was nice about this morning, though, was that when I took in a deep, early morning breath, I didn't immediately choke on the thick stench of death and keel over myself. Why is that odd, you ask? Well, let me tell you a story.
Once upon a last Friday, Erin and I went over to my apartment so I could change out of my work clothes and gather some assorted things before we went over to her place. This was partially because I had no heat at the time and I was going to spend the night at her place, and partially because, who am I kidding, I spend most of my weekends over at her place anyway.
When we stepped into the lobby of my building, it smelled like a combination of cigarettes, old people, and stale feet - nothing out of the ordinary there.
We proceeded upstairs, where upon the first landing we started smelling something horrific. At first I thought it was someone's cooking gone terribly wrong, but the closer and closer we got to the second floor doorway, the worse it got. It was sinking it's venomous teeth into us, sucking out our souls with its nauseating stench.
And then we opened the door.
I don't really know how to explain the blast of odor that hit us upon opening that door and stepping into the hallway. I don't think anyone that hasn't experienced that type of deep terror can really understand. In the simplest terms I can come up with, it was like some massive, stinking, mutant hamster had crawled into someone's radiator and died a nasty, grotesque death, and now it's rotting carcass was wafting through the heating system and destroying everything in our path. No wonder the heaters were out; how can the system keep going after a 400 pound rodent dies in it?
Ah, Mondays.
It's becoming more and more of an effort lately to even attempt getting out of bed in the morning, never mind to actually find the willpower to crawl out from beneath my toasty warm blankets and trot off to take a shower.
What was nice about this morning, though, was that when I took in a deep, early morning breath, I didn't immediately choke on the thick stench of death and keel over myself. Why is that odd, you ask? Well, let me tell you a story.
Once upon a last Friday, Erin and I went over to my apartment so I could change out of my work clothes and gather some assorted things before we went over to her place. This was partially because I had no heat at the time and I was going to spend the night at her place, and partially because, who am I kidding, I spend most of my weekends over at her place anyway.
When we stepped into the lobby of my building, it smelled like a combination of cigarettes, old people, and stale feet - nothing out of the ordinary there.
We proceeded upstairs, where upon the first landing we started smelling something horrific. At first I thought it was someone's cooking gone terribly wrong, but the closer and closer we got to the second floor doorway, the worse it got. It was sinking it's venomous teeth into us, sucking out our souls with its nauseating stench.
And then we opened the door.
I don't really know how to explain the blast of odor that hit us upon opening that door and stepping into the hallway. I don't think anyone that hasn't experienced that type of deep terror can really understand. In the simplest terms I can come up with, it was like some massive, stinking, mutant hamster had crawled into someone's radiator and died a nasty, grotesque death, and now it's rotting carcass was wafting through the heating system and destroying everything in our path. No wonder the heaters were out; how can the system keep going after a 400 pound rodent dies in it?
x1000000000000Erin was right - it was totally how Law & Orders start. Open with two girls, chatting along and not really taking in their surroundings. They follow their daily routine, when something suddenly seems amiss. They peer quizzically at each other, yet continue onward. What is that smell? Should they investigate? And they do, peering around until DUN DUN, dead body!
At any rate, I was grateful whatever it was hadn't died in my apartment. I hope it wasn't a person dead somewhere, but it smelled like the inside of a gigantic hamster cage, so I can only assume it was indeed a 400 pound rodent. It is the city, after all.
The rest of the weekend was mercifully odor-free; we watched Mystery Science Theater 3000, we slept in until noon, and we even got off our asses and went out to 51st State for drinks. I like that we've made friends with the bar staff, because it's a fun place to go - it's not the madhouse that McFadden's is. There aren't college juniors going completely insane because they're finally 21, and at 51st State we don't run the risk of running into a bunch of douches we can't stand, and then having to play nice for a few hours.
The people are amusingly insane, and even though we've had several bizarre men hit on us and ask us for dances/hook ups/to follow us home, it's almost charming in a way. It's been awhile since I was hit on by awkward 20 somethings, rather than awkward teenagers or awkward 40 somethings.
Oh, and we also watched almost 2 entire seasons of Criminal Minds. I'd heard of the show before, and seen a little bit of one episode, but I hadn't really given it much thought. I figured it was yet another "detectives band together to bring down the bad guy" show, and Law & Order SVU already fills that special place in my heart. What I didn't realize is that the characters are elite FBI profilers in the Behavioral Analysis Unit, the plots are awesome, and the whole show itself is really, really good. They've tackled everything from kidnappings to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, to dismemberment to Saw-like people, and everything and anything in between. Oh, and Dawson Leery guest starred as an awesomely schizophrenic psychopath who kidnaps my poor Reid.
Reid. Okay, my "type" of guy varies. I tend to date one of two types of guys: Tall, blond-ish guys with good senses of humor, and tall, very dark guys with good senses of asshole-ish-ness. Reid, aka Matthew Gray Gubler, falls into none of these categories. He is this:
At any rate, I was grateful whatever it was hadn't died in my apartment. I hope it wasn't a person dead somewhere, but it smelled like the inside of a gigantic hamster cage, so I can only assume it was indeed a 400 pound rodent. It is the city, after all.
The rest of the weekend was mercifully odor-free; we watched Mystery Science Theater 3000, we slept in until noon, and we even got off our asses and went out to 51st State for drinks. I like that we've made friends with the bar staff, because it's a fun place to go - it's not the madhouse that McFadden's is. There aren't college juniors going completely insane because they're finally 21, and at 51st State we don't run the risk of running into a bunch of douches we can't stand, and then having to play nice for a few hours.
The people are amusingly insane, and even though we've had several bizarre men hit on us and ask us for dances/hook ups/to follow us home, it's almost charming in a way. It's been awhile since I was hit on by awkward 20 somethings, rather than awkward teenagers or awkward 40 somethings.
Oh, and we also watched almost 2 entire seasons of Criminal Minds. I'd heard of the show before, and seen a little bit of one episode, but I hadn't really given it much thought. I figured it was yet another "detectives band together to bring down the bad guy" show, and Law & Order SVU already fills that special place in my heart. What I didn't realize is that the characters are elite FBI profilers in the Behavioral Analysis Unit, the plots are awesome, and the whole show itself is really, really good. They've tackled everything from kidnappings to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, to dismemberment to Saw-like people, and everything and anything in between. Oh, and Dawson Leery guest starred as an awesomely schizophrenic psychopath who kidnaps my poor Reid.
Reid. Okay, my "type" of guy varies. I tend to date one of two types of guys: Tall, blond-ish guys with good senses of humor, and tall, very dark guys with good senses of asshole-ish-ness. Reid, aka Matthew Gray Gubler, falls into none of these categories. He is this:
AND I CAN'T HELP MYSELF. Admittedly yes, he's also a model for DNA Models (one of THE top agencies) and he's done campaigns for Marc Jacobs, Burberry, and Louis Vuitton (meaning the cream of the crop) - but he's super stringy, super angular, and super... well, dorky. Especially on Criminal Minds, in which he plays a super genius who graduated from high school at the age of 12, and can profile people who haven't even been born yet.
He's not even remotely my type, but I'm strangely drawn to him. Maybe he's made of magnets.
At any rate, I'm smitten. I want him to show up at my door with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of Hot Fries, and declare his love to me. And then I'll make him shower me in gifts until the 15th, when I can make sweet, sweet love to him all night long.
And it wouldn't be like a normal relationship, in which I meet him at 10pm, have sex with him at midnight, then forget about him. No, this would be real. I'd hold him tenderly, maybe we'd cry a little together as we shared our feelings. We could brush each other's hair, tell stories about our childhoods, and dream up chic and awkward fad names for our babies. I'd suggest Paperclip Maria, and he'd surprise me with Coca-Cola Jade. Our son would be named Fabio Sandstorm. Maybe the other way around. We'd move to a ranch in Tennessee and raise livestock. You know, escape the paparazzi and the cruel realities of Hollywood. It'd be like Heaven.
Although, truth be told, I'd probably just get him drunk and get him laid. Can't teach an old dog new tricks.
Your Survival Technique of the Day
How to Survive the Stench of a Dead Creature
Step 1: Cover. Make sure your eyes are only somewhat opened, and make sure your hand is closing your nostrils and covering your mouth, so that you're only breathing in the scarcest supply of air. You want to stay alive, so burning lungs are part of the job.
Step 2: Run. If you must get something from the mist, do it as fast as you can. This is to avoid breathing in too much of the odor and dying awkwardly and embarrassingly on your own floor, and it's also to make sure you don't take too long, and your lungs don't explode because you're not breathing in enough air.
Step 3: Survival of the fittest. If you're with someone else and they're falling behind, leave them. You can't overcompensate for their lack of survival skills. Ask Darwin.
Step 4: Shower and detox. When (if) you make it out, immediately run to a fresh air source and gulp in some air - then shower directly after. If you were in a cloud of dead rodent smoke, chances are you now smell like dead rodent. To avoid accidentally killing any of your friends, or having the maintenance man called on you, scrub yourself straight away.
Step 5: Dinner. If you're from the South, dig in.
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