Archive for ‘Excessive Displays of Awesomeness’

February 26, 2011

Conversations with Mbrotha: V is for Vampirism

I have a deep and abiding fear of zombies. 

Well, maybe not so much a fear.  More of an intense and growing concern that the entire world will turn into zombies at some point during my lifetime. 

On a normal day, I’d say this concern consumes roughly forty percent of my thoughts at any given moment. 

On a day that I feel like a giant booger? 

On those days my only thoughts are zombies. 

Which results in the following types of conversations:

Setting:  The boudoir

Who:  Me and Mbrotha

When:  Sometime in the last week or so, I was sick and time was hazy.

Somehow Mbrotha and I were talking about how we’re both sick and one of us (me) suggested that we probably had the zombie virus and we were both 100% likely to turn into zombies overnight and wake up fully zombified.  At this point, the conversation was all laugh-y, laugh-y, joke-y, joke-y.  Haha, we’re going to turn into zombies.  Oh, hope you don’t eat me, teehee!  Mm, your brain smells tasty, hoho! 

What fun, what fun!

Mbrotha:  Goodnight, babe, love you.

Me:  Night, love you.  Hope you don’t turn into a zombie, heeheehohohaha.

Mbrotha:  Okay then.

::about five minutes passes by and then…::

Me:  Um, hey, babe?

Mbrotha:  Yeah.

Me:  I’m sort of legitimately concerned you’ll turn into a zombie overnight.

Mbrotha:  I’m not going to turn into a zombie, pumpkin, don’t worry.  Go to sleep, good night, I love you.

Me:  Okay, phew.  Night, love you too.

::another five minutes::

Me:  No, seriously, babe, I’m really very concerned you will turn into a zombie overnight.

Mbrotha:  Honey, I’m not going to turn into a zombie.  Go to sleep.

Me:  Okay.

::five minutes::

Me:  Babe?

Mbrotha:  I’m not a zombie.

Me:  Not yet.

Mbrotha: Nor will I become one.

Me:  Listen, hon, I don’t think you fully understand my concern.

Mbrotha:  I do, now go to sleep.

::five minutes::

Me:  Hon, I’ve really thought about it, and I’m quite convinced you’re about to turn into a zombie.

Mbrotha: I’m not, I assure you.

Me:  You’re sick.

Mbrotha: I have a cold.

Me:  Or the beginnings of the zombie virus cleverly disguised as the common rhinovirus.

Mbrotha:  I’m pretty certain it’s a cold. 

Me:  Really?  Because I’m not convinced.

Mbrotha:  Okay, go to sleep.

::five minutes::

Me:  No, you are clearly becoming a zombie and because of that I already have my escape route planned.

Mbrotha:  It’s a cold.

Me:  No, listen.  I’m really freaked out here.

Mbrotha:  I know, honey, but I’m fine, it’s just a cold.

Me:  Okay, fine.  But look, in the morning, if you are no longer a human but a member of the living undead, I fully plan to bash you in the head with the iron and since you’re now undead I’ll have to bash you several times.  Then I plan to run down the hallway and call my mom.  But I can’t because now the whole world is full of zombies including my mom, so I can’t call her which means I have to deal with you on my own.

Mbrotha:  Naturally.

Me:  Right.  And you’ve chased me down the hall but you get distracted by the smell of the dogs and I can’t let you just eat them now can I?  So I have to clobber you repeatedly until I manage to knock you unconscious.  Then I’ll have to work quickly and tie you up.

Mbrotha:  Smart.

Me:  I’m going to put you in the bathroom okay?  I’ve thought about it and it’s really the safest place for you.  I don’t want other zombies to get to you and I figure they won’t be able to crawl through the window because it’s small and I plan to barricade it and the door with pieces of wood from the garage.  Plus I’ll put you in the tub and I’ll draw the curtain so if another zombie makes it inside, they won’t think to look inside of the tub.  Zombies aren’t that bright, you know?

Mbrotha:  Why would another zombie try to get to me?  I’m already a zombie.

Me:  How the fuck am I supposed to know?  It’s Zombiepocalypse!  Times are crazy!  Every zombie for themselves!  Or something.

Mbrotha:  Okay.  Well, you don’t have to worry about that because I’m not going to become a zombie. 

Me:  I sure hope not!

Mbrotha:  Go to sleep.

::five minutes later::

Me:  Look, if you’re so intent upon becoming one of the undead, I’d much prefer you contract the vampire virus. 

Mbrotha:  I’ll keep that in mind.

Me:  I’m A-okay with vampirism.

Mbrotha:  Great.

Me: But not werewolvism.  And not one of those creepy vamps from “30 Days of Night.”  I mean, we have to draw the line somewhere.

Mbrotha:  Right.

Me:  But if you want to be a vamp like Edward from Twilight?  I’m fully on board with that idea. 

Mbrotha:  So I can only be undead if I become a vampire? 

Me:  Correct. 

Mbrotha:  Okay, just so I’m clear. 

Me:  Great.  So, to recap.  Zombies and werewolves, hell no.  Vampires, hell yes. 

Mbrotha:  Mmhmm.

Me:  I feel better now that that’s settled. 

Mbrotha:  Good, I’m glad.  Go to sleep, love you.

Me:  Love you, too.  Night.

::The next morning::

Text message from Ali to Mbrotha:: 

Thank God you’re not a zombie.

February 18, 2011

It’s the thought that counts, right?

Every now and again I have one of those “Aha!” moments.  You know the kind where you’re bumbling along trying to find your way and then all of a sudden something happens and you go, “Yes!  That right there!  That’s what I’m looking for!  That’s it!”  And all of a sudden birds are singing and the sun is shining and your outlook on life is just fucking amazing.  You know those moments?

I had one of those moments today.  I had no idea it was about to happen either.  I was just sitting there, minding my own business, fake-interviewing celebrities while eating my lunch. 

And Whammo!

It hits me.  This realization I’ve been searching for for ages.  And it happened at the most innocuous of times and when I was least expecting it.  A co-worker mentioned that she’s going to Haiti in March for volunteer work.  She’s volunteered once already and this is her second year going. 

That’s all it took.  I was hooked. 

Aha!

Look, let’s take a moment and air the dirty laundry.  I used to do this job I absolutely fucking hated for this company I liked even less.  Spawn of Satan is not even remotely an apt description.  It put me in this huge funk that, at times, I was positive I would never be able to recover from.  Just……bloody fucking awful.  Somehow, a miracle occurred and I was able to tell the “Dude” to go fuck off and here’s your suck-ass job to do it with (And by that I mean I politely quit and thanked them for the opportunity.). 

The end of that job allowed me to start thinking again.  Thoughts that I make available here, whether you care to hear them or not (you totally do though, let’s face it, I’m made of awesome-sauce and win).  And over the course of the last eight months I’ve figured out that I want more from my life.  Unfortunately, I’m still vastly uncertain exactly what “more” I’m looking for.  Thankfully, every now and again the universe sees fit to throw me a bone and I have an “Aha!” moment.  Thanks Universe, you rock. 

One time in my life I’d like to do something that doesn’t benefit me in any way.  When I heard about my co-worker’s trip today, I was just amazed.  I want to do that.  I want to go somewhere and help someone I don’t know simply because I can.  I want to help make a difference somewhere.  So now I just have to figure out where.  Who’s going to be lucky enough to get this girl? 

I think it’d be more accurate to say, who’s going to be unlucky enough to get this girl.  What I lack in upper-body strength, I make up for in smile-wattage.  I hope that accounts for something. 

I’m also not a huge fan of bugs or sweating.  But I can save you from the Zombiepocalypse.  At least, I’m pretty sure I can.  I haven’t had to test out my skills yet and I’d like to keep it that way.

Now it looks like I’m making fun of volunteering.  Great. 

Worst.  Volunteer.  Candidate.  Ever.

December 9, 2010

Boredom, Day Eleventy: Salesmanship

Limited Time Offer!  Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Flailing Tube Ali!

GET YOURS TODAY WHILE SUPPLIES LAST!

An Ali!*

*The Ali pictured above may not be the Ali you receive. 

December 3, 2010

Boredom, Day Five: Woot, Woot!

Check it out!  It only took me like eleventy million tries, but at last, AT LAST!! success is mine!

Spider Solitaire should write odes to me! 

Also, after this post, I had several comments from those nearest and dearest stating that perhaps I should write a book. 

A)  I’m flattered. 

B)  Okay!  Let’s do this! 

So, I guess, be prepared for some mumbling and grumbling in the weeks ahead because I’m sure it’s not going to go smoothly.  Forewarned is prepared.  Or something. 

But FYI, if someone says they’d like to pay me money to interview Jared Leto and find out his take on s’mores (world’s greatest food pairing OR highly overrated/room for improvement) I’m one hundred eleventy percent on board with that idea. 

P.S.  The correct answer is world’s greatest food pairing. 

December 1, 2010

Contemplations in boredom, Day Three: Entrepreneurialism

Spider Solitaire (Windows)

Image via Wikipedia

Dude, Internet, I’m having one of those days.  You know the kind of day where you spend your day writing an ode to “Spider Solitaire?”  That kind of day?  One of those.  What does it mean?  Am I having an existential crisis?  That doesn’t seem likely.  I feel pretty comfortable with my place in the universe.  Mid-life crisis then?  I fucking hope not.  That means I expire far sooner than I’m ready too.  I have a lot of things I want to do in my life and thirty years is not nearly enough time to accomplish those things, thanksverymuch.  So no, not a mid-life crisis.

Oh God, Internet, I know what it is!  I know what’s afflicting me.

Boredom.

Internet, I’m sooooooooooooooooooo bored.  Seems innocuous enough, but I assure you it’s not.  I have always far preferred being busy versus not.   Some people can sit around with their own company and they are perfectly comfortable and at ease doing just that.  Not this gal.  And not because it forces me to look inside and face my own mind.  I’m really comfortable with what bonks around in there.  Me and my brain?  We’re besties.  Sitting around doing nothing just simply makes me feel inactive.  Wasteful.  And that in turn makes me feel anxious and irritable and eventually the kind of batty that generally results in ode’s to computer card games. 

I know the culprit of my boredom.  A lot of it is a direct result of being smack-dab in the middle of the slow season at work (I wrote an ode to Spider Solitaire today, does that give you some idea as to how slow it is?  The other day I wrote a fake interview with Mark Salling.  And was so amused by it that I literally had to stop myself from laughing out loud at least a dozen times while writing it.).  The rest of it is because I finally figured out what my passion is.  I hard-core love writing.  I realized it’s my thang.  This has resulted in insane boredom whenever I’m doing work other than writing.  It consumes my thoughts.  I dream about it.  I can’t wait to get home and write, write, write.  I intensely wish that I had figured this out when I was young and stupid and carefree because I’m quite positive my life would be a heck of a lot different right about now (My professional one.  The rest of it I like just fine.).

I’ve spent a lot of time in my brain the past few weeks and I’ve started thinking how I might entice an eMagazine, like thegloss.com, to hire me as a columnist.  I’ve met me and I’d hire me.  They say you’re your own worst critic so this is probably the best recommendation in the history of recommendations.  I could be their Celebrity Interviewer Columinist.  I’d revolutionize it.  They’d have the most awesome celebrity interviews.  They’d kick every other eMag’s butt. 

Competitor eMag:  Oh, hey, I just interviewed Mark Salling.  I found out he hates his faux-hawk.  Praise me for this awesome journalism!

Me:  Oh really?  You found out he hates his faux-hawk?  Did you find out where he stands on “Vampires vs. Zombies (to the victor goes the humans)?”

Competitor eMag:  Uhhhh….no?

Me:  Well, I did.  And that’s why Mark and I will survive the Zombiepocalypse.  And you probably won’t.  But props to you on the hard-hitting investigative journalism!

This is probably word for word exactly how it would happen.  You’re welcome, thegloss.com.

The other day I was thinking what my form letter requesting they hire me would look like.  Proabably something like this:

It's not pink...but it is scented.

 

Best.  Form Letter.  Ever.

Who wouldn’t want to hire me after a gem like that?  (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.)

Now would probably be a swell time to post my ode to “Spider Solitaire.”

“Ode to Spider Solitaire.”

Oh, Spider Solitaire, you fickle beast

I thought I had bested you

With just one suit, I conquered you time and time again

Look at me win! 

I am Ali “Spider Solitaire Champion.”

But then you sly brute, you

You whisper, “Now try me with two suits and see how you do.”

Oh, Spider Solitaire!

You got me!

But wait! 

I have bested you again!

Behold Ali! “Spider Solitaire Champion!”

Not to be outdone, you bellow:  “NOW TRY ME WITH FOUR SUITS!”

And so I have

Oh, Spider Solitaire, you have foiled me!

You best me time and time again

But take care, Spider Solitaire!

I will conquer you!

And if I don’t?

I’m switching back to Freecell.

Not only am I the most awesome of awesomest celebrity interviewers, I write a pretty mean ode if I do say so myself. 

Tag, you’re it, thegloss.com.