In Which I Am a "Devil Child"

Hey, Friends.

It's been a truly weird day here in my little piece of the world. I can't wait to tell you all about it!

What -- reading about my weird day doesn't sound like a good way to spend your time?  I don't think you'll be sorry.  This was pretty damn strange, and I have weird shit happen all of the time.  If I'm wrong and you end up thinking this was a massive waste of your time?  Feel free to use that little comment box and tell me: you think I suck monkey balls, how you've lost the precious minutes of your life you wasted on my blathering, or all of the other awesome things you could have been doing instead.  You get my point.

Weird Thing the First

I was at work this morning, and a gentleman looked at my right hand, made a face, and kind of snorted at me.  I asked if I could help him, and he kept pointedly staring at my hand before he said, "What's that thing supposed to be?"

I was caught a bit off guard.  Where was this going?  It's my hand.  How weird is this about to get if you don't recognize that you are staring at my hand?  It was only about 10:30 in the morning and I had not had enough coffee yet to be ready to deal with new levels of strangeness from the patrons.

Finally it dawned on me that he must be looking at my ring, so I asked him if that was what he was talking about.  He didn't answer at first...just kept staring at my hand.  Friends, you have no idea how hard I was wishing for him to say yes.  I wasn't sure what other directions the conversation could take, but I was pretty sure I didn't want to find out.

Eventually he said, "Yes, I suppose.  What is that?"

It's a ring, dude.

Uh...It's still a ring.  A piece of jewelry?  **I don't know where you're going with this, Buddy. Help me out, here.**

And then he looked at me like I was a complete moron, and said, "Yes, yes.  But what is it?  What is it supposed to be?  What does it symbolize?"

I think he was a bit bummed when I explained that it symbolized nothing.  It's a fork.  He looked at me like I was feeding him a bunch of bullshit until I took it off and handed it to him and explained that it was literally a fork that someone had bent and curled into a ring.  Found it on a table at Stormville Flea Market a few years ago, thought it was cool, and paid the princely sum of $5 for it.

He looked at it for a bit before giving it back, and then his entire demeanor changed. We were suddenly best friends, he was all smiles, and he called me Dear on his way out.

What the hell?  Help me out here, Friends.  What could he have possibly thought it was supposed to be?  I knew within about 10 seconds of looking at it on a jumble table that it was a fork made into a ring.  I can't come up with a single disgusting/horrifying/dastardly thing he could have gotten out of it. Someone told me once they thought it was an octopus or squid, but even that shouldn't have evoked quite such a reaction.

I chalked the whole thing up to Monday being a Monday.  Got the weirdness over with early in the day so it all should be smooth sailing from here on out.  Hindsight being 20/20, I should maybe have taken this little encounter as a sign of things to come.

Weird Thing the Second

I have bad luck with parking lots.  I must give off an aura of some kind that just screams, "Come talk to me!  Bring me your issues!"  To be very brief (because I have a lot of stories about parking lot interactions), I should really have learned by now never to acknowledge or answer the person yelling from across the parking lot.

I had to run some errands after work this evening.  My last stop had been the dollar store in the local shopping plaza. I was in and out in no time.  I just wanted to get home and be done with the day.

I left the store and as I was approaching my car this woman about 5 cars away started yelling to me, "Hey!  Hey lady is that your car?"

So I said yes.  I really thought that she was about to tell me that some asshole had hit it and taken off while I was in the store.

Oh no.  That would almost have been preferable to what actually went down.

I unlocked the car, put my things inside, and started checking for the damage I was sure she was going to tell me about.  She wandered her way on over between vehicles, and then she said, "That is an evil car."

What?

I was lost.  It's a car.  How can a car be evil?  Is this like a new slang thing that I don't know about? She looked older than me so I didn't think it was, but I wasn't ruling anything out just yet.

By now she had approached close enough to be standing by the passenger side of my car, and I could tell that something was not quite right with her.  I'm not saying that she was strung out on something, but she did not seem like she was in the same reality as the rest of the world.  

She went off.  I was informed that my car is a "devil car" because it is all red and black -- "Those are the colors of Satan!"  That Satan was working to try and spread his evil through my car.  That the evil was infesting me and anyone who so much as looked at my car, and I was jeopardizing the souls of everyone around me.  

I locked the doors at that point.  I kind of hoped that she was strung out on something because she was out of her mind, and that would at least mean it was only temporary. 

She kept rambling on about how the devil was using me.  Apparently my black pants were also a sign of the ever-growing evil that was attacking me.  I listened to her for quite a while.  I didn't know what the hell was wrong with her, but I really didn't want to piss her off any more than she already was.  I'd already done a spectacular job at it without having done a single thing.

She finally came to a sort of rambling stop, but I don't think she had really planned on stopping.  It seemed more like she either lost her train of thought entirely or she had burned through all of the furious energy that her indignation had been giving her. She stepped back a bit and just kind of zoned out. 

I took this to mean that our time together was now done, unlocked my door and opened it to get in. The movement seemed to snap her out of it.  She straightened up a bit, and then asked me if I had any money I could give her. 

Are you kidding me? Like she hadn't just been ranting at me for a good 5-10 minutes about having an "evil" car and being an instrument of Satan. I looked right at her and told her, "No. Satan hasn't paid me yet this month." 

And she hissed at me. She fucking hissed at me and told me I was a "devil child". And then I got in the car and left her in the parking lot.

So....I probably didn't help my case with that parting shot. I feel a little bad for the next unsuspecting person with a red car that she decides to unload on.  I probably just gave her more fuel for the fire.

And for reference:

This is my car.  Why yes, it is a Kia Soul. Makes it all that much more special.

As you can see, Friends, I've had a rather interesting day.  I hope your Monday was much less weird than mine has been.  Oh, and sorry if I just inadvertently infested you with "evil" by making you look at a picture of my car.  My bad.  Maybe I really am a devil child after all.

**If you have a weird day story of your own, you totally need to leave that in the comments!  It would be nice to know I'm not the only one that has this kind of thing happen.**

Please Don't Ask Me

Hey, Friends.

There is nothing I dread more than someone asking me what I think of the new guy they are dating. Maybe that makes me a terrible person, but it's the truth. Close friends that I've known for years? Go right ahead.  I know you well enough to go there, and I've probably met the guy several times and know him at least a little bit by this point.

If we aren't really that close?  Please don't ask, and my opinion should have zero relevance.

1) Does he make you happy?
2) Does he treat you well?
3) Does he seem like a decent human being?

There you go.  I'm happy that you're happy.  Please leave it at that and let's not delve any deeper.

I found myself in this situation recently, in case you hadn't figured that out by now. It was so uncomfortable!  This wasn't a close friend by any measure, and I had met the guy on accident a couple of times when we happened to be in the same place at the same time.

It was odd to me that she was even asking my opinion.  We don't see each other all that often.  I don't feel like I know her well enough to even gauge if she was asking because she really wanted an outside perspective, or if she was just looking to be told what she wanted to hear.

Thankfully she didn't press the issue, just started gushing about how wonderful he is, all the great things that make him so fantastic.  I'm happy for her.  She went through a really bad end to a 4 year relationship a few months ago.  I'm more than willing to sit and listen to her excitedly talk about him for as long as she wants.

But when she got to the part where they are already planning a vacation together?  I had to ask if that wasn't moving a little fast.  I don't want to rain on her parade by any means, but that seems rushed to me. They have only been seeing each other a couple of months. She, of course, thought otherwise and went on at length to explain why they thought it was a great idea.

I told her to go for it then.  They had obviously put some thought into it and were convinced it was a fabulous idea.  Clearly nothing I said was going to change her mind if she practically bit my head off for daring to ask the question.

She talked about him for a while more before we parted ways.  I told her I was glad she was so happy, and he seemed like a good guy.  He really does from what she said and from the couple of times I met him. I'm happy to see her so happy again. She made it very clear that she thought he was made of all things awesome and that any thought to the contrary was wrong and unwanted.

I hope that the next time I see her they are still together.  I honestly do.  I want to see her continued happiness, and I hope it works out for them.

However, I also won't be surprised if it all falls apart before they ever take that vacation.  I don't know her that well, but even I can tell that he is just screaming "rebound".  He's pretty much the polar opposite of her ex in every way.  The things she listed as these fantastic qualities he possesses right now are the same things I have listened to her bitch and rant about before -- things that annoy her to no end. What do I know?  They say opposites attract.

Back to my point, if I ever had one.

Why do we put our friends in these situations?  I can understand asking a close friend if you really want to hear their opinion, someone who knows you really well and who you know will tell it like it is.  I know how helpful that can be, especially if there is some inner doubt within yourself.  But random acquaintances?  It is so awkward. Say anything less than flattering about the guy and you end up pissing off your friend and/or hurting her feelings.  And there is also the possibility that she is going to repeat that shit if the relationship lasts. At the same time, do you really want to encourage someone in a direction that doesn't seem like it's going to work out?  You don't want her to rush into another heartbreak.  (If he seems like he's abusive all bets are off -- I'm straight up telling you that whether you want to hear it or not.)

Maybe it's just me.  Maybe I suck at this type of thing.  I'm single and probably the last person you should be asking.  I've kissed my fair share of frogs without finding a prince. I excel at attracting the wrong guy.

So please don't ask me.  Spare us both from the awkwardness that I will inevitably bring to that conversation no matter how much I try to avoid it.

Long and Weird

Hey, Friends.

Have you ever had a week that wasn't necessarily bad, but it just seemed super long because it was filled with weird and ridiculous things?  I know that sounds odd and a little vague.  I'll try to explain as best I can.

It all started on Monday.  I thought it was just a fluke -- one weird conversation that I was dragged into as a very confused participant.  In retrospect, I maybe should have taken it as a sign of how the entire week was going to play out.

I was at work, minding my own business and trying to get things accomplished, and this guy I've never seen before comes over to me and decides to start a conversation.  He opened by asking me if I have, "ever contemplated what life is like for the noble coconut?"  He was serious about it, too.

What?  I'm going to go with no. Is he really talking about a freaking coconut here, or is this some kind of code that I don't recognize?

So I told him that I hadn't really given any thought to coconuts.  I didn't know where he was going with this, and I saw no point pretending like I had given time to contemplating the life of a coconut. 

That was mistake, Friends.  I'm not sure there was actually a good answer to that question though, as I'm pretty sure he was going to have his say on the topic no matter what answer he got.  I got a whole lecture about how I was part of the problem.  Oh yeah. 

Did I ever eat coconut?  Yeah.  It's delicious.

Did I ever drink coconut water, or cook with coconut milk?  Yes to both.

That's why I was deemed part of "the problem", Friends.  Don't feel left out -- I'm sure he would consider you part of "the problem" as well. He went off about people only appreciating the parts of the coconut that they could eat or drink.  No one cared about using the entire coconut.  Why wasn't anything being done to make productive use of the hard outer shell?  The coconut should be just as respected as any other living thing, and "all of its resources should be used."

I might have made it worse when I mentioned that people did use the shells for things.  I have a little monkey statue made from pieces of coconut shells. Apparently he did not consider "tacky tourist crap" to be something of value.  The shells were solid, hard material that should be used to create things for the greater good.  He didn't seem to have any specifics on how that should happen or what those things should be, but was emphatic that it should be happening and the world was, "overlooking a wonderful resource."

That was Monday morning, Friends.  

There was a whole shit-storm of the weird and ridiculous happening that I can't talk about.  We're only going to touch upon the surface stuff here, kids.  I'm going to give you the most amusing parts of the week.

By the time Thursday rolled around, I figured everyone could use a little treat.  

Made Rice Krispie Treats using Fruity Pebbles. Not sure if it will taste like anything but pure sugar, but they look cool. pic.twitter.com/ujHXh5UB6r

— Tammy (@tammyshampoo) March 2, 2017

**A bit of a digression for a moment...
I rarely use Twitter from my laptop unless I need to post something here.  I can't even imagine trying to type this all on my phone or Kindle Fire.  I need a full keyboard and many tabs. To that end (and because I kind of suck at social media in general), I've only just now discovered the link to the Twitter Analytics on my profile page.  I don't ever see that on my phone.  There could be a whole post about this discovery in the near future.  But to get somewhat back on point, that tweet has apparently gotten more views than almost anything else I have ever posted.  Who the hell knew that Fruity Pebble Treats would be that damn popular?**

Where were we?  Thursday, right.

I work the late shift on Thursdays.  When I got to work I found out that the phones and computers had been down for part of the morning, but it was all rectified by the time I arrived.  Worked well for me, and clearly everyone was going to need the Fruity Pebble Treats even more than I had thought.

Later that afternoon, the police show up with lights a-blazing on their cars.  They are looking for a white male who "may or may not have any clothes on."  They got a call from the school down the street and thought he may have headed to the library. They checked the library and the used book store in the back of the building.  No naked man found.

We were all more than a little amused about the situation.  Did the police really think that we wouldn't have noticed, or called them, if there was a naked dude just wandering around in the library?

I actually made notes about the things that I said.  The staff was amused, but all of the patrons present had to ask what was going on and we had to explain.

"Nah.  I'm pretty sure we would have heard about it by now if the naked man had wandered in to join the knitting group."

"Because if you're naked and running from the cops, the library is totally the place to go!  You'll blend right in."

(Real talk -- it happens more often than you would think.  Let me Google that for you.)

"I made Fruity Pebble treats.  Eat one of those and you'll be wired for hours.  You won't miss any of the fun."

"I bet it was a senior prank.  Probably changed in the men's room long before the cops ever got here."

"No, we don't generally get a lot of naked people in the library."

Taking it down a few notches in excitement, you know what else is always amusing?  The titles on some of the romance novels.  Take a look if you have never paid any attention to them.  I had commented to a former coworker once about some of the character names being a little crazy, and she actually had an explanation for that.  She is a published author, reviewed a lot of things, proofread manuscripts,so she would be in a position to know.  She said a lot of the character names get changed because the authors will get feedback from the editors that they need to make the characters "fiery", or to "spice it up" a little bit.  She said that is when you end up with main characters named things like Cayenne -- clearly that author had hit the breaking point with the need to make things "spicier".  The titles themselves are just silly sometimes, and full of contradictions. I swear I once saw one called "The Playboy King's Mistress Bride".  What the hell does that even mean?

I don't remember the exact title of the book we discovered this week, but it had to be something pretty interesting to catch everyone's attention.  I wish I could remember what it was, but I know it led to me saying:

Because when I think I need someone to depend on, my first thought is always, "Damn it, where can I find a bull rider?"

Friends -- there are even better discoveries on Amazon.  I kid you not.  A couple years back I was trying to find a book on there for a kid that had something to do with a T-Rex when I made an amusing/disturbing discovery of the WTF variety. This obviously was not the book he was looking for, but it isn't something that you will forget seeing.  Like....ever.  I had no idea that such a thing even existed.  Click here if you want to know, but don't blame me when you can't forget about it.

Which brings us to yesterday when it was finally, blessedly, Friday.  I got out of work and had some things to do, errands to run.  I just wanted to get home and relax.  Couldn't just be easy though.

A new Popeyes opened very near my house, and that thing has screwed up traffic on a regular basis since day one.  Essentially, I really can't use one end of my street from lunch time on.  I kind of spaced on that fact when trying to get home last night and spent some quality time stuck in traffic caused by the drive-thru line that had backed up out into the street.

I'm listening to the radio, cursing my own stupidity for trying to get home that way, when there's a guy knocking on my window.  He keeps knocking until I crack the window enough to ask what he wants.  "You going to Popeyes?  I need some biscuits."  I tell him I'm not going there, just stuck in traffic.  I fully expected he was next going to ask for money, but he didn't.  He just wandered on to the next car and knocked on their window.

Fucking Popeyes is fast becoming the bane of my existence.

So that was my week, Friends.  It was full of weird and ridiculous things. I'm not saying that it is necessarily bad, as it was pretty amusing at times.  I just wish it had spread itself out a little more....like over a few weeks rather than crammed all into the same one.  

Phone Notes Part V

Hey, Friends.

It's snowing here, again.  Been trapped in the house all day and I'm bored.  I'm not going to thrill you with any pictures of the snow today, sorry. Okay, maybe one that pretty much covers my delight at having to deal with more snow.

I'm calling this my "I'm Not Happy That It's Snowing Again" face. pic.twitter.com/6QGFE9NRzp

— Tammy (@tammyshampoo) February 12, 2017

Instead, I decided that we could have fun looking at all of the random shit that I wrote as a note on my phone at some point.  You like those, right?  Hope so!  If you've been here a while then you know the drill.  I'm going to share the flotsam that was going on in my head.  If I remember what inspired it, or why I even made the note in the first place, I'll try to explain.  Some are pretty self-explanatory this time, I think.

1.  I sometimes check my phone, certain that I heard it going off, only to discover that it was a phantom sound and nothing is there.  Other times I can sleep right through the alarm -- and I use the really annoying alarm sound.  I don't understand how people can wake up to music.  I've tried and it never works.  I end up incorporating it into my dreams as a soundtrack.

2. It's 19 outside (feels like 10).  I wore fleece-lined leggings & a wool sweater to work in an attempt to stay warm in the building.  I go to Stewart's (it's like a convenience store, for those not in the North East) after work to buy gas.  Apparently they are having an ice cream sale -- and they are really pushing it.  Like I must have been asked 3 times if I also wanted to buy some ice cream.

No.  I very much do not want to buy ice cream right now.  No, I'm sure I won't want any tomorrow either.  I just want to pay for my coffee and the gas and leave.  I want to go home, drink my coffee, put on warm clothes & wrap myself in a blanket.  I'd like to feel warm again at some point.  Ice cream has no part in that plan.

3. **Fun fact:  this was apparently written at 2:01 am, on a random day back in September.  I could elaborate on it further, but I'm not going to.  I'm a little iffy on even including it.**
Past hurt and disappointment.  Time passes.  Trust once broken is a hard thing to regain.  I expect too much.  Setting the bar lower and lower and still I manage to be dazzled as he flies spectacularly beneath it.

4. Neighbor calls: "Did you see the thing?  The thing in the road?"

Okay, I know exactly what this was about.  My neighbor called the other night, convinced that she had seen a "big thing" crossing our road, down near my house.  This was about 10 pm.  She had been outside walking her dog, and it freaked her out enough that she and the dog immediately headed back inside.

No, I did not see the thing.  

She continues, telling me that it was bigger than the cats that roam the neighborhood.  That it seemed bigger than the cats, but not as big as her dog, but it didn't walk like a dog.  What could it be?

I told her I thought it might be a raccoon.  They are around here.  I saw one in my backyard over the summer, and they can get pretty big.

She was already moving on.  What if it was the bear?  We never did find out whether they caught it or not.  I tried to reassure her that it wasn't a bear, and that a bear should be hibernating right now.

She tells me that is was big, and it was dark colored.  "Maybe it was a coyote? Oh, what if it tries to eat the cats, or attacks my dog?"

Okay, there is the remote possibility that it might have been a coyote, but I'm not telling her that.  That will in no way help me to calm her ass down. I reiterated that it was probably a raccoon.  Yes, they are dark colored.  Fucking anything is going to be "dark colored" when you are looking at it at 10 pm. Maybe it was a stray dog.

It could be damn chupacabra for all I know.  I didn't see it.  I kept telling her it was probably a raccoon, and just to be careful when she is out walking her dog.  

5.  Every day I secretly hope that something random and awesome will happen.  And I drink coffee -- lots and lots of coffee, just to make sure I don't miss the little spark of awesomeness when it happens.

6.  Did you ever encounter someone and you can't even wrap your brain around how they are real? Overheard a conversation, and I was absolutely just as dumbfounded as the one participant.

Person 1: So, what do you do?

Person 2: I'm John's girlfriend.

Person 1 is tapping away on her phone

Person 2: I thought you looked familiar!  Where do you work?

Person 1: I don't work.

Person 2: Well, then do you go to school or something?  Volunteer?

Person 1: No, I don't have time for that.

Person 2: Okay....but then what are you doing all the time?

Person 1: I told you, I'm John's girlfriend.  *continues texting*

It continued on.  Apparently that is literally all she does is be this guy John's girlfriend.  She lives with him, doesn't work, doesn't do anything else.  When he is away on business she lives with her parents.  Chick had to be in her 30s.  She doesn't have time for a job because when he has to go to Albany for work, she rides with him to keep him company in the car, and so they can have lunch together.  No, they don't have any children or anything. She was texting John, who was like 20 feet away on the other side of the room.

WTF people.  I'm really trying not to judge here, but how is this even possible?  I get that maybe they are just crazy in love with each other.  Apparently they have been together for a couple of years. She was there with John, but she didn't know anyone so decided to just sit down and wait until it was time to go. 

How can you literally have no life, zero things to do of your own?  What can you possibly have to say to each other via text that can't wait until later?  You're in the same damn room -- you can literally see each other!  What happens if you break up?  You have no money, no job. 

The whole idea kind of broke my brain.  I get that they are (I assume) in love and want to spend as much time together as possible, but it seems incredibly strange to me.  How do you not do anything else with your life?  I get that they are in a relationship, but that doesn't mean that you totally lose everything about yourself.  Maybe I'm wrong.  I'm single, so what the hell do I know.  Maybe she's actually brilliant.

Almost...But No, Probably Not Even Close

Hey, Friends.

Do you ever wonder how hard it must be to be a celebrity sometimes?  No, really.  It's got to be like being the popular kid in high school only you're under a thousand times more scrutiny. Why yes, this is the nonsense that runs through my mind at times.

Maybe you just want to go out and get coffee, or meet a friend for dinner.  Now someone recognizes you.  And yeah, it's a good problem to have to be popular and get recognized on the street. People obviously like you and your work, which is great. I'm sure you get used to it after a while.  But now do you stop and talk, take a picture or whatever? One or two people, okay, but what if more show up? If you ignore them is it going to be all over the internet that you were an asshole and wouldn't stop to talk to your fans?  What if you're already running late and you really just can't stop at the moment, and now that's the one time some dude parked 3 cars away decides to shoot video and post that you are a jackass?

Why am I pondering problems that, most likely, I will never have to deal with?  Fair question, Friends.  Because it happens to me sometimes, but on a much smaller tinier not even remotely close scale.  Okay, it's really nothing like it, but it's the best comparison I could manage.

For example, I went to get coffee on the way to work yesterday morning.  There's a dude chilling outside the door, and he says, "Hey, Girl!  Do you know what time it is?"  So I tell him it's about 8:30 and wander inside to get my coffee.

I come back out and the dude is still there, but this time he's all, "Hey!  I know you!  You're the Library Lady!"  Yup.  That's me.  So now I guess we are going to have a chat.

Dude: You going to work?

Me: Yeah, but I'm going to the branch.  Not into the city.

Dude:  Oh.  Can you give me $5 for bus fare?

Me: Uh, no.  I've got $1.  You can have that.

Dude:  Thanks!  I'll pay you back, I swear!

Me: Don't even worry about it.  Have a nice day!

Dude:  See ya, Library Lady!

That's paraphrased a bit, but you get the gist.


That shit happens a lot.  I'm used to it now, but it freaked me out at first.  Not going to lie.  Just because I don't necessarily remember them, doesn't mean they don't recognize me.  I'm not going to be rude and ignore someone.  Common courtesy and manners make life easier for everyone, kids.  Also -- just be a decent human being and acknowledge that someone is speaking to you.  And it also reflects on the library, even though we aren't there at the moment.  I don't need to contribute to any feeling of ill will against the library, or have rumors running rampant that I'm a bitch.

It doesn't happen to me all the time.  It's never a concern when I leave the house about who I might run into that day.  I've never been swarmed with people wanting to chat when I just want to grab lunch.

It does make me wonder how much more difficult it must make things if you do have to worry about it on a grander scale.  If I were to blow off the guy outside the door asking for money?  There's very little chance anyone would ever hear about it.  It sure as hell isn't going to be all over the internet in the next few hours, complete with video.

I've got no follow up for that, Friends.  Consider it an example of the flotsam that floats about in my brain.

On a totally unrelated note --

My last post with the attempt at vlogging?  You all seem to like that.  A lot.  That post has been viewed twice as much as anything else I have posted in months.  I'm hoping that's a good thing.  For all I know I could be getting turned into a meme somewhere as we speak.

Since you seemed to enjoy it, Friends, I put together more nonsense that didn't fit in the first video. You can watch it or not -- entirely up to you.

Questions Part II

And, since someone said it would be funny to watch all of my facial expressions and hair shenanigans in fast motion, I tried to do that too.  

It's not great, but I'm seriously impressed with myself for even figuring out how to do this.

I Might Be a "Depressing Little Snowflake"

Hey, Friends.

It's that time of year where everyone everyone starts reflecting on the year: did they learn anything, any major life accomplishments that occurred, plans for the future, etc.  This is a little bit of that, but also a story, and it includes a request for feedback.  Oh, and it all centers around Instagram. Intrigued yet?  I sure hope so, because I kind of need you to read until the end and give me some feedback, if you have some time to spare.

Let's start with the story first.

I was at a soiree recently, and was chatting with a guy I had been introduced to at said event.  I've seen him at other things before as we share a mutual friend.  So we're chatting, and it becomes very clear that he knows more about me than I know about him (especially since I didn't even know his name until we were introduced.)

He brings up Instagram, of all things, and tells me that I take really good pictures. It's always nice to get compliments, and I didn't think much of it as my Instagram is public and meant for anyone to see. It was where he went from there that started to get a bit strange, at least in my opinion.

He told me that I was a "depressing little snowflake" because so many of my pictures were dark, or taken in the evening or at night. Then he declared that I must be "one of those Emo people" because I was wearing black during the holidays. Yeah.

Suffice it to say that we did not chat long, and I'm proud of myself for not telling him that he must be one of those assholes who likes to draw conclusions about people based solely on an Instagram account and an outfit.  I tried very hard to be polite and keep it civil since we do have a mutual friend and I will most likely end up seeing him again in the future.

And yes, I was wearing black during the holidays.  I like black.  I wear it all year long.  This is not new and is not going to change.

Moving right along to Part II of our journey here today, Friends...

As we are near the end of the year, and we are talking about Instagram already, I decided to go back through and find the post from each month of the year that got the most "likes".  They might not be my favorites, or even the ones I think were my best, but they were the most popular.  There are 14 in total, since a couple of months had a tie score.  I'm going to share them with you below, and hopefully they don't make you think I am a "depressing little snowflake."

Not a good way to start on the whole "not a depressing little snowflake" front, I realize.

Do they really strike people as sad or depressing?  Sunsets are beautiful, as is the way light causes reflections on water.  

Moving on to Part III of our purpose here today...

I need some feedback from you, Friends.  I was talked into participating in a staff art display at work. I would like your assistance in choosing which pictures I should use. If you have time, I could really use suggestions on which ones you like the best -- not just from the group above, but from anything found on my Instagram account here:  https://www.instagram.com/tmyers526/

I've already chosen one, as I was asked to provide one for the newsletter at work.  I decided on this one, as it was taken at the library.

Peonies in the rain

Any thoughts would be greatly appreciated, Friends.  Obviously, I'm biased and like all of them as I took them and shared them with the world.  I have more that I didn't post and can choose from as well, but I'd like to get as wide a variety of opinions as possible.  You can comment here, or on Facebook or Instagram, or even hit me up on Twitter at @tammyshampoo.  Even if you only have time to pick one, that would be tremendously helpful in narrowing it down.  Hell, tell me you think they all suck monkey balls if you feel like being painfully honest.

Thanks for reading, Friends.  And thanks so much in advance if you have a moment to help me out!  

You Be the Judge

Hey, Friends.

So, I was standing in line to get coffee this morning, minding my own business and listening to the two guys in front of me having a conversation about some sports thing.  (I honestly don't know what they were talking about -- I don't watch sports except for the Olympics, the World Cup, and the Super Bowl half-time show.)  I'm going to paraphrase their conversation, except for the part at the end which is an exact quote because it is burned into my memory and has haunted me all day. M'kay?

Dude #1: Says something sports related

Dude #2: What?  What makes you say that?

Dude #1: I read it online...blahblahblahsportsblahblah wesbite

Dude #2: What website?

Dude #1: Well, it's a blog.

Dude #2: Oh, forget then.  I don't pay attention to blogs.

Dude #1: Why not?  You were just interested in it like a second ago.

Dude #2: "Bloggers are all just a bunch of narcissistic assholes who think their opinions are more important than everyone else in the world."

And that's when I tuned out.  Clearly they were not talking to me.  I don't know them, they weren't paying the slightest bit of attention to me, and I highly doubt they have ever stumbled their way to our little speck of the internet here.

It still hit a little close to home, Friends, and the thought kicked around in my brain all day.

I have a blog.  Do I come off as a narcissistic asshole?  I hope not, truly.

I mean, I'm sure I have my asshole moments -- we all do.  We're human.  I admit to being narcissistic at times as well.  I'm far from perfect.  In fact, this whole post could be a prime example of being what this guy hates because it is going to involve a lot of navel-gazing, Friends.  You can bail now if that isn't your cup of tea.

I would never attempt to explain or defend all bloggers.  I know very few people with blogs.  I can only speak for myself here.

I think people create things because they want to share it with others.  It might be writing a screenplay, a poem, a painting, writing a song, crafting the perfect joke, or even just a humble blog. It's trying to capture an ephemeral feeling, or a moment, and asking other people to share in it. Maybe the goal is to help someone, or just to bring a little humor into the world. It's putting a little bit of yourself out there, your heart, your world view -- whatever you chose to present -- and seeing how it resonates. People might hate it and think you are a narcissistic asshole.  Fair enough.  But it might help one person, or bring a smile to someone's otherwise shitty day.  There might be one person out there who identifies, who feels it.  That's enough to make it worthwhile.  It helps to sort through the shit in your own head, and maybe the reaction it spurs can end up helping you in the end by giving a different perspective on the matter.

Personally, I like writing as a way to express my thought and ideas.  I have to slow down and think about what I'm saying before just shooting off my mouth.  It helps to clarify my thoughts and gives me time to reflect on what I'm actually trying to express.

Also, I absolutely hate public speaking, and I am naturally incredibly shy when meeting new people. I'm never going to be the person out on stage in a spotlight, or reading a new poem at an open mic night.  That's the fuel for nightmares, in my book. I'm not exaggerating.  Been like this my entire life, although I have gotten much better and less awkward over the years.

My Mother tells a story about trying -- yeah trying -- to get me to go see Santa when I was little.  I was fine the entire time we were waiting in line, and when the moment came and I realized I would have to go talk to him?  No way.  I covered my face with my hands, because if I couldn't see him then he couldn't see me and it wasn't happening. I kept telling her, "I don't want to tell him, you tell him." Even the allure of my own candy cane could not make me go to talk to him.

Let's talk about the hell that was any kind of presentation that involved public speaking, all through high school and college.  It wasn't a matter of not having done the work, or not having understood the material.  I am a huge geek.  I love doing research.  I'm the kid who was stoked the first time we ever got a homework assignment in elementary school. I'm ridiculously competitive, even if it is only me against a test.  If there is a score or competition involved?  I'm going to do my level best to kick ass.

I clearly remember having to do a presentation, about Super Bowl ads of all things, in an advertising class in college.  Of course I had done all of the research, watched the game, took notes on the ads while watching the game.  Drove my roommates insane making them listen to my presentation over and over so it was the right length.  I gave myself pep talks: class is at 8 am and half the class is going to be asleep or hungover.  No one wants to be there that early, let alone paying attention to a presentation.  Don't actually look at anyone, just stare at the wall over their heads or the note cards.  My hands were shaking so bad the entire time I was worried about dropping my note cards.  By the end of what was really a short presentation, I was tipping my head back slightly as I spoke because I could feel my throat closing up and was desperately trying to just force out the words.  Give me a term paper any day rather than a presentation.

Then there was the presentation I had to do on renewable energy in another class.  I remember begging one of the smartest guys in the class (his name was Ben) to please, for the love of all that is holy, do not ask me any questions afterward.  Of course he didn't listen and had to ask a bunch of questions.  It was my own personal hell, and I just wanted to crawl under a rock.

As I said, I've gotten a lot better over the years.  I credit a lot of that to my sorority sisters in college. WHAT?! Yes, I was in a sorority -- I was actually the President for a year.  Shocker!  Once I'm comfortable around you, you can't shut me up.  I have no problem putting myself out there in a leadership role, either.  I'm just a ball of contradictions!  The first time I had to run a meeting I was terrified.  I was worried about messing up, or disappointing them somehow. And then I managed to just relax, because while there were a lot of people staring at me, it was going to be okay. These were my friends, and even if I messed up they weren't going to hold it against me.  That experience alone helped so much I can't even explain.

My job has also helped tremendously.  When I first started working at the library it was terrifying.  I felt like all of the patrons were staring at me when I was working on the circulation desk.  And I had to talk to strangers all. day. long.  Those first few months were exhausting.  Now I am used to talking to strangers all of the time, listening to their stories, being screamed at and called a bitch because I won't waive their fines.  Every day is an adventure when you deal with the public.

But back to my point, Friends.

It's a personal preference, comfort thing for me.  I'm never going to be the person who wants to claim the spotlight, who wants all the attention focused on them.  I mean...yeah, it would be pretty sweet, not gonna lie, but then people would probably expect me to say or do something in that spotlight, and I would freeze up like a deer in headlights.  There are people who are seemingly meant to do that: they are mesmerizing, charming, and just kind of draw people to them.  Doesn't matter what they are doing -- they might be famous, or they might just be the center of their group of friends.  They have that inner sparkly thing that draws attention to them and they are happy to bask in it.  I prefer a quieter, subtler kind of attention.

Having said all of that, Friends, I hope I don't sound like a narcissistic asshole.  I do try not to be an asshole.  I hope that whatever I've shared here has never come off as being holier than thou, or that my opinion is the right one and everyone else is wrong.  I'd consider that a pretty asshole move.

A special note to my Friends here that I don't actually know:

Hi there.  If we ever should meet up -- you know, in real life -- just don't assemble in a large group. I think we've established that I don't deal well with those situations. Otherwise we should be cool.

**Unless you are someone I am attracted to and/or admire.  Then that shit is out the window and I am probably going to be a hot mess.  Fair warning.**

Yeah...I'm Not Okay With This

Hey, Friends.

Weird bit of excitement today.  It all started around noontime when a coworker asked me if I had seen what happened near my house.  I had no clue, but I saw he was bringing up an article in the local paper.  Fantastic. What could possibly have happened now?  My top three guesses were:

• Fire of some sort
• Crack house got busted
• Sting operation for allegedly running guns and drugs

Why were those my top 3 guesses?  Because they have all happened on my street since I bought my house 6 years ago.  And before you ask, Friends -- 2 and 3 were separate incidents involving different neighbors. I don't live in a bad area. I swear! However, I think it goes a long way in explaining why I pay attention when I notice weird shit going down in my neighborhood.

What I was not expecting was the story he actually pulled up:

Black Bear Spotted in Town of Poughkeepsie

Yeah.  Read that.  Join in my moment of WTF-ness.

Honestly, I probably wouldn't have believed him if I hadn't read the article myself...from a link that someone else emailed me. It is entirely too bizarre for words.

I find this disturbing for a few reasons -- not the least of which is that they haven't updated the story to say the bear has left the area or, more likely, been hit by a car or shot.  

***BREAKING NEWS***

Sorry for the interruption, Friends.  As I was writing this up last night the power went out. The lights blinked on and off a few times, and then darkness descended.  I finished that last sentence, then turned off the computer.  I lit a candle for a little light in the house, then grabbed my phone and went outside to explore and see how big the power outage was -- hoping it wasn't just like my house, or me and one other house.  

It was odd.  We weren't having a storm of any kind with winds that should have done any damage.  I hadn't heard any loud noises -- like a transformer blowing, or an accident nearby that hit a pole.  This was about 10 pm last night.

So I'm strolling the neighborhood in my pajamas, doing my own little survey of how big the outage appears to be.  My entire street is definitely out. Streetlights and traffic lights on the highway are out, and that's really bad as there are accidents there all of the time even when the lights are working. A large chunk of Main Street appears to be out as well, but from the top of our hill I can see that a couple blocks over and to the right the lights appear to be on.  Very odd.

I stop to chat with a neighbor who was out to walk her dog briefly.  Another neighbor comes home and tells us she was just at the Pizzeria Uno down the street.  The lights went out there, but they must have a generator because they came back up, but all of the lights everywhere else are out -- so now that's 3 major intersections involving the highway in both directions that are out.

I get the job of calling in the outage to the power company since my phone is the only one fully charged.  They give me an estimated restoration time of midnight, and none of us believe that it will really happen.  We part ways listening to the symphony or car horns and sirens that has begun.

A while later I'm back outside, as there was just a loud crunch like there might have been an accident.  I wander over to take a look at the highway and see if I now need to call 911. I don't see anything, and as I'm wandering back inside it occurs to me that it is probably really stupid to be wandering around in the dark, in my pajamas, with only my phone, because there was a fucking bear in the neighborhood this morning and how did I forget that it could still be wandering around out here with me?  I was literally just writing about it when the power went out!

I bump into yet another neighbor who is out to see what happened.  We chat briefly and this happens:

In related news, a neighbor and I have almost identical pajamas. #PowerOutageDiscoveries

— Tammy (@tammyshampoo) September 15, 2016

Yeah.  So now that half my neighbors have seen me in my pajamas, I decided that I'm just going to stay inside for the rest of the night.  Plus, you know, BEAR IN THE AREA.

Thankfully, around 11:45pm the power came back on.  

***END OF STORY WITHIN THE STORY***

Hi again, Friends.

So after a few hours of away time what with the power outage and the need for sleep, we are back. There was a bear, and I think I was about to explain why I was less than thrilled about it.

Before we go any further (and it might really be too late based on what I've written above) I need you to hold up your right hand and swear that none of you will turn into creepy stalkers and try to figure out exactly where I live.  I'm not talking to those of you that I actually know and that have been to my house before -- obviously it's cool and you are welcome.  I'm talking to my unknown Friends here online.  Promise you won't get creepy.  I think this entry alone makes it quite clear I already have enough weird-ass problems going on without adding "stalker" to the list.  It's not that I don't love you, Friends, but I don't need random people stopping by unannounced and making this all strange and unsettling.  If you're ever in the area and just desperately need to hang out with me, I'm sure we can work that out ahead of time and meet for coffee or something.  You know, when it wouldn't be weird and stalker-ish.

Everyone done with their "I'm Not Going To Be A Creepy Stalker" oath?  Fantastic.

First:  I'm worried about the bear itself.  This area is not meant for large wildlife to hang out and chill. The poor thing has to be seriously lost. How the heck did it even manage to get here to begin with? Maybe it wandered down the rail trail from somewhere else, but to get over in my neighborhood it still had to navigate across a lot of busy intersections and major roads.

That's Main Street.  Big intersection right there that always has accidents.  And yes, that would be the Uno's that still had power last night.

This is the intersection on Main Street where the bear was sighted.  

The block in between on Main Street, early on a foggy morning.  I couldn't pictures of everything for you yesterday, so this one is older.

Highway intersection on the other side of my street.  This also had no power last night. As you can clearly see in the picture, people almost hit each other on a regular basis even when the lights are working.

Sunset over Holy Trinity's parking lot last night -- after the bear sighting and before the power outage.

I'm really hoping they catch the bear before he gets himself injured, or causes and accident.  I don't even know if it's a young bear, probably lost and looking for his way home, or a big bear who came in search of food, or what the case may be.  I just hope it doesn't wind up hurt or dead.

Second:  The Interloper.  The Interloper is a feral cat that lives in my neighborhood.  It was born a couple of years after I moved in, and it used to chill in my back yard with it's Mama cat and two siblings.  Sadly, Interloper is the only one left now.  I hadn't seen Interloper for quite a while, but for the past month or so it has taken to hanging out in my back yard or on my back steps.  Most mornings when I wake up and go into the kitchen, I can see Interloper sitting up and looking at me through the back door of the porch, and giving me sad eyes and looking hungry.  Needless to say, I have now begun giving Interloper breakfast every morning.  That's how Interloper got its name.  Jazz-kitty is all cool with other cats walking around outside -- she just watches from the windows.  She never growls, or puffs up or anything.  As soon as the food started going out the door in the morning?  Jazz-kitty was not a fan of that happening. That's her food and she really didn't want to be sharing it with some unknown, outdoor menace.  Jazz follows me onto the back porch each time, and then sits in the window and glares daggers at the Interloper while it eats.  

The point of all that: I'm worried about The Interloper accidentally having a run in with the bear.  I don't even want to think about what would happen, and I really don't want to find an injured Interloper in my yard one morning that will have to go to the vet.  (I can report that Interloper was just here for breakfast this morning, looking fine and dandy.)

Third:  The advice in the article is ridiculous! I know they don't really have anything else they can say, but it is so totally dumb in this situation.

"Cleaning outdoor grills after use, removing bird feeders, and not leaving pet food outside are all ways to limit bear encounters. Garbage cans should be kept inside in a secure area and placed outside the morning of pick up."

I'm sorry, but that is the least of your problems in my neighborhood.  I don't think the bear wandered over here because of my neighbor's grill, or a bird feeder, or the empty cat bowl The Interloper uses. As I was discussing with the coworker who showed me the article, the residents are the least likely to be attracting the bear.

In that little stretch of a couple of blocks on Main Street, in either direction, there are a shit ton of better options for a hungry bear than a bird feeder.  We tried to name all of them.

Wendy's, Taco Bell, Dunkin Donuts, KFC, at least 2 bars, 2 convenience stores, 2 Mexican restaurants, a Chinese restaurant, a pizzeria, Noshi's Coney Island Hot Dogs, a Vietnamese restaurant, Pizzeria Uno's, and the Acropolis Diner.  That's not even counting all of the restaurants in the area that run the length of a busy cross street.  If the bear is hungry, it has much better options than someone's grill or a bird feeder.  

Fourth:  I really don't need to meet the bear face to face.  I don't want it to get hurt, but I also don't want to encounter a pissed off or scared bear and end up getting mauled.  That's the stuff for nightmares and movies, and until yesterday I didn't think it would actually be possible in my neighborhood.  

So, that's what has been going on in my little corner of the world, Friends.  We've had a lot of excitement in the last 24 hours.  Today seems pretty normal so far, so let's hope it stays that way.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a good, bear-free day!

Of Book Groups and Pinterest Fails

Hey, Friends.

So, last week at work I got to run my book discussion group.  Since it was May -- the month of Free Comic Book Day and the first ever Hudson Valley Comic Con -- I decided that we would do a graphic novel this month.  I chose Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes by Neil Gaiman.  If I was going to do this then I was going to pick one that I love.

It was a hard sell.  Two ladies flat-out told me the month before that they wouldn't be coming because it wasn't their thing. Fair enough.  There were a few other people I mentally took out of attendance because I already was pretty sure that it wasn't something they would like.

For those souls brave enough to attend I wanted to make it awesome!  Well...as awesome as a program room in the library can be.  I always try to decorate to match the feel of the book.  I also try to serve refreshments that go with it -- be it food that was mentioned in the book, or something that kind of goes with it.  If you have been hanging around here long enough, you may recall when I made little sinking Titanics out of Twinkies when we read A Night to Remember by Walter Lord.  There have also been some rather interesting choices around Christmas time.

So, this is what I came up with for our discussion of Sandman:

Our table, complete with coloring options.  Shout-out to Chris for his help in finding said coloring options.

Cupcake display!  Conveniently received the holder as a birthday gift.

Chocolate cupcakes with cherry pie filling, chocolate icing, and complete with little skull sprinkles on top. (Death is a character in the books, for those who haven't read them.)

Display of other related works for further reading

I even wore a Carpe Noctem shirt.  Thought it was appropriate.

One of my favorite quotes from the book, hanging on the door.

Candy to represent the more squiggly dream-essence, and unicorn poop cookies.

About that last bit, Friends...

Yeah.  Unicorn Poop Cookies had zero relevance to the book.  And there is a story about how they got to be included.

A couple of weeks prior to book group I was still trying to figure out what I was going to do to try and bring the Awesome to it.  I was working at the circulation desk when this cookbook came through: Nerdy Nummies by Rosanna Pansino.  I flipped through it to take a look, and that's when I saw it -- Unicorn Poop Cookies.  OMG I have to find a reason to make these at some point!  I thought nothing more about it. Didn't read the recipe, didn't make a copy of it.  Simply checked it in and put it on the shelf for the patron that had requested it.

Jump ahead to about a week before book group.  Other than the cupcakes I still didn't know what I was going to make.  The idea of the Unicorn Poop Cookies was still lingering in my brain.  I mean, they totally had nothing to do with the book.  On the other hand, if there was ever a group of people who might appreciate being served such a thing this was probably my best bet.  The swirly colors of the cookies kind of reminded me of Delirium from The Endless, which is a stretch since she isn't even mentioned in the book, but it would make sense if people had read the rest of the series....and I could print out a rendition of The Endless to try to explain.  Yeah.  This could work!  I can totally rationalize why there are Unicorn Poop Cookies being served.

That's when the drama of our little tale really begins, Friends.  I didn't have the cookbook or the recipe, hadn't even really read it.  I decide to just Google "Unicorn Poop Cookies Recipe" and that should get me a result.

It got me a shit-ton of results (technical term, I know).  Most of them were links through Pinterest, which always gives me a little trepidation.  You hear about Pinterest Fails all the time, but they hadn't steered me wrong with the Twinkie Titanics.  So I browsed through a few options, found one that seemed pretty clear-cut, and printed it out.  And before you ask: No, I cannot pinpoint exactly which recipe I used.  I found it, printed it out, didn't save it, and moved on with my life.  I didn't save the print-out either, and you'll soon see why.

Let's start with a picture of what the magical Unicorn Poop Cookies are supposed to look like:

Cute, right?  You won't be seeing this later.

We're going to skip the boring part about making the dough.  You don't need to read that.  We're jumping straight to the action where I try and make it look like the above picture.

The recipe has helpful tips/steps included on how to get the best results.  Fantastic! I'm probably going to need those.  To paraphrase, these include things like the following:

--Remember to use more food coloring than you think you will need!  As the dough bakes, the colors will fade.

Use an obscene amount of food coloring.  Got it.

--Divide the dough into sections, and place on separate sheets of plastic wrap.

Okay, that makes sense since we are going to be making different colors.  I'm with you so far.

--Take a section of dough on the plastic wrap and shape it into a circle.  Make a well in the middle. Drop the food coloring in to the well.  Wrap it in plastic wrap and knead in the color.  This will keep the food coloring from getting all over your hands!

And that would be the step that made me leery, and I kind of started talking to myself.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just wear gloves?"

Yes, brain of mine, it probably would.  Where the hell were you earlier?  The color was going to have to be put into the dough at some point.  Why did I not consider this before?

It's 9 pm.  Not going out to try and find gloves at this point.  Let's do this thing, Pinterest!

I decide to start with green, to kick it off with one of the darker colors.  Go big or go home.

It took all of about 10 seconds for it to start going wrong.  Two squeezes in the plastic wrap to start working in the color, and that shit was leaking out all over my hands.

I look like I'm morphing into the Hulk.  And that's after trying to wash it off.

I fucking hate you so much right now, Pinterest recipe.  Liar, liar pants on fire! Things were only going to get worse, as I had three other colors to make as well.

--Chill the colored dough sections for a couple of hours.  This will make it easier to handle later.

Sure thing.  I'll use that time that to scrub the rainbow off of my hands after your last little step failed spectacularly.  Maybe I will find a quasi-normal skin color once again.

--Twist each section into a thin strand.  Take each strand and twist it together, and then form them into cookies.

That sounds a lot simpler than it really was.  

Fun fact: chilling the dough doesn't keep the food coloring from once again getting all over your hands as soon as it meets up with the warm temperature of your body. Also, the dough gets stickier the warmer it gets and the more it is handled.

Could I have put it back in the fridge to chill again?  Yes. Should I have done so? Probably.  Did I? No, no I did not.  It was already almost 11:30 pm and I just wanted this ordeal over and done. It wasn't pretty, Friends.

Looks appetizing, right?

So I rolled, and twisted, and made cookie-type shapes.  I baked them.

Those suckers did not fade into pretty pastel shades.  No.  I had some seriously dark colors going on. We're talking primary colors, like they could decorate a kindergarten classroom's walls to help teach the kids their colors.  "Colors will fade"?  Bullshit.

--After letting your cookies cool, add fun sprinkles, or icing, or edible glitter to make them prettier!

Are you kidding me?!  Sprinkles and glitter won't stick to cookies after they are baked without some sort of icing or frosting.  That shit needed to be added BEFORE you told me to bake them, when the whole cookie universe was a sticky mess! I wish I had realized earlier that you were kind of talking out your ass, Pinterest recipe.

This, Friends, was the point where the recipe and I parted ways and I decided to just make the rest up on my own.  How was I going to get the decorations to stick to these things?  The original picture didn't seem to show any frosting or icing involved.

I decided to make a glaze, of sorts.  A little confectioners sugar and vanilla ought to do the trick.  It should be relatively clear and shiny when it dried.  If I basted it on the cookies, then threw the decorations on really fast before it hardened, they should stick.  It was literally the middle of the night by this point.  My brain was not coming up with a lot of other options.


I did it, and it worked.  It didn't really help to make the cookies look more like the cute original picture, but the damn things were finally finished.

Here they are, in all their glory!

Feel free to scroll back up the page to look at the model version...and then look at my handiwork.  Not a total fail, but not a raging success either.

They still tasted pretty darn good, and people were amused.  Mission accomplished!

But I will probably think long and hard for before blindly placing my trust in a recipe found on Pinterest again.