Damn reindeer running rampant all over the place!

My work is a madhouse. People are going crazy with the holiday spirit. Every day I wake up and it's just another day, then I get to work and all hell breaks lose.

One day I came in and was minding my own business when two of my coworkers stop by my cubicle wearing tiny stuffed pants on top of their heads as hats. It was like they slaughtered two miniature scarecrows and stole their nether regions so they could parade around the office in triumphant glory.

If this wasn't enough to make a person question the sanity of their surroundings I then witnessed a whip cream pie-eating contest. All went accordingly until I noticed one of the contestants eating their pie (cough) rather seductively. I made eye contact with one of the pants-on-head girls and exchanged the "this is wrong on so many levels" look. I am going to assume his girlfriend is a very happy camper.

Throughout last week I had noticed people wandering around my area of the building looking aimlessly into cabinets, under desks, and in the office foliage. I work with a lot of people so seeing them around is normal, but this was just odd. While putting away some files I had someone ask me "You're not looking for the reindeer in there are you?" and then I knew. It was that stinking reindeer, it was on the loose and hiding. It was taunting everyone to be found and they were falling for it. It was a free for all and they want to find it badly. All I have to say is if I find it, there will be a ransom note involved.

So it has begun, the end of the year contests at my work. I've never been the one for audience participation but I did attempt to name the reindeer by voting for "Venison" and "Chewy" unfortunately that name got shot down and the more appropriate name of "Hidey" (get it) was chosen...with this choice my first mumblings of "Bah-humbug!" were heard.

That ain't no Tofurky on my plate!

I am proud to say I just ate something that was probably warbling along quite merrily a few days ago, until THWAK! No more "gobble, gobble" for you! It's time to celebrate my thanks and I'm thanking you for being lower on the food chain, welcome to the holidays in America. For some reason this time of year we are happy to be killers. We kill birds, we kill trees and by the end of it we want to kill each other. All of this in the name of holiday spirit.

I have never been one for the holidays; I try to stay hidden until they've passed. I'm not sure why this is; I think my psychic abilities are warning me of the bad things to come. My friends always assume I'm being sad so they take it upon themselves to make me join in. One year I drank 4 glasses of hot apple cider only to find out it was spiked with a huge bottle of Rum via my friends’ mother. Another time I almost ran over a bloody hooker wandering in a daze down the middle of the street, and I don't mean bloody like the English use the term, I mean bloody like she really was bloody. On Christmas eve I once slept in the very rancid smelling public restrooms of our downtown area due to a flat tire, lack of cell phones during that time and nobody I knew the number for was at home or in town BECAUSE IT WAS CHRISTMAS! And then there was the time I spent with my friends' family of about 30 Jewish people getting my hand swatted for trying to eat desert to soon by her grandma, being one of the only non Jewish people there you are the instant comic relief of the group.

So on that note, I suppose I should step outside where the rest of the people I work with are enjoying their pre-thanksgiving meal provided by our company to see what kind of trouble I can get into this year. Tomorrow is a pie-eating contest. Weeeeee, I can't control my enthusiasm any longer.

The Monsters ate my brain!

And other true stories from the worlds most popular genius.

When I peaked my head out and looked at the doctor he grimaced and said “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t think the rest of the world is ready for you yet.” It was at that precise moment on a cool January evening my mother gave her final push; the doors to the ambulance flung open and little baby Emily went flying into the night. This was all followed by a loud THUD, and the squealing of tires. The proud owner of a 1977 Peterbilt truck scratched his head as he opened the door and stepped outside. His heart was pounding, the welt on his forehead rising, and he approached what he hoped was a cruel joke only to find a wee little version of me, staring up at him.

Well, that was my sister’s version of the story.

For many years I thought I was the outcast, the nerd, the ugly one, the flat chested one and the one who drove my great grandma Parkinson from Maine to New Jersey in a super-cool red fire truck. Later in life I learned I was sorely mistaken. Out of all the things I was led to believe, all the things that were egged on by my surroundings, the one thing that held true above all others was the fact that in sixth grade I was buffed by an angel. Well…that’s not entirely true; I was buffed by two angels. I spent many years trying not to allow this to go to my head but I couldn’t help it. I was blessed in the most uncommon sort of way and I wanted to let the world know.

After many weird looks and rude comments about my higher being I was broken. I caved and succumbed to the negative world around me. I believed these things, I had no choice. If everyone else says I’m the pariah, then it must be true. I soul searched, I grew horns, and I made eggs explode in the microwave. One day it came to me, my light bulb turned on above my miraculous dome of a head. I was not the weird one. I was not the loser. I was on the other hand a proud owner of a 1987 Chuckie Cheese coin, which if you’re lucky I’ll let you touch it. Aside from that, I knew what I was. I was a tugboat in a sea of insanity. It was I that was the sane one, and it was everyone else who was insane. They had figured it out and they are jealous. They are trying to sink me…I am the tug boat…I will not sink…I will eat my gummy bear vitamins. I will carry on.

My nuclei think I’m cool because they always stick around for the encore.

This one’s for Tim who thinks my writing is genius and it’s for those who never let me down, despite my nonsensical writing. This is for those who get it (I will proceed to laugh at those who don't).

Friendships Lost

I’ve lost many friends in my life for many reasons. I’ve lost them to drugs, I’ve lost them to murder, I’ve lost them because of their bad decisions, I’ve lost them because they stole from me, I’ve lost them because they slept with my boyfriend and I’ve lost them to suicide.

One of those friends whom I lost use to tell me I was too nice to people, and then she did the one thing she promised never to do. She hurt me. Here it is years later and I’ve come full circle. My best friend, the man I love tells me I give the human race too much credit. For two years I’ve told him he gives them too little. I bow my head for the moment because I can’t help but feel he is right. My inner being is kicking and screaming. “Don’t do it Emily, there are good people in this world, you are still friends with some of them. They are still with you as you are with them. They love you, they need you.”

No matter how many friends I have lost for different reasons, it never makes it any easier. It always seems hard to hold the tears back especially when you feel they don’t deserve them or the reasons for the loss are ridiculous. There are no rules on how to act or how to feel when the end of a friendship draws near. If there are I’d like to be the first one to know.

Sometimes you just have to take a deep breath and say goodbye. So to this friendship, I say goodbye and goodnight, it was good while it lasted and I will miss the time that was spent.

This is dedicated to those who have never done me wrong and whom I hold out faith never will. You know who you are.

Here is a pathetic “poor me” photo filled with snot bubbles… at least today was a good hair day.

OMFG!

HA Ha Ha Ha Ha HA!!!
Extreme Mormons
What the?

Quotatiosness Grandioso

In the great words of SpongeBob from the SpongeBob Movie (sing it with me folks)
"I'm ready...Promotion! I'm ready...Promotion!"

I am only Human...

Sometimes my insides scream for something bigger than this world has to offer. It bothers me when people I hold close can't understand that, or take me the wrong way (which happens more than I would like). Sometimes things happen that make you feel so bad the only thing you want is a hug and sometimes things so wonderful happen, it's hug you crave once again. Lately I've been one or the other, there seems to be no walking the fence for me. Heaven forbid I'm ever allowed the middle ground. I guess that's just the way this world works. The balance must be maintained and it will be done so on my watch. The only people who don't have this issue are the ones who worship mediocrity.

I do not worship mediocrity, It is those heads I will use as grips so I can climb over them.

I need a hug.

Glass half full

Once upon a time I had a roommate come home and say "hey, my work gave me a few free bottles of wine...you want some?" I was never much into drinking nor do I have any kind of addictive personality (thank God), yet for some reason my glass found itself full and no matter how much I drank that evening it never emptied. By the end of the evening I had convinced myself there was a magic wine fairy that lived inside my glass who would refill it when I wasn't looking. That wine fairy turned out to be my odd roommate Graff (the same one who brought the bottles home), he had an affinity for polish girls, the Navy and owing me money. Ever since this fateful evening I find myself obsessively drawn to the wine section at the local grocery store, especially the "El Cheapo" selection that seems to have a neon sign with my name on it. I am now convinced wine is a good thing but don't take my word for it, there are many studies saying; a glass a day will make you live longer (yeah sure Emily...Whatever helps you sleep at night). Although I haven't drank enough wine in my lifetime to live until I'm a hundred and fifty, I have drank enough to know it's an amazing way to get my homework done, write a blog and successfully turn my whole mouth blackish/purple (I hear it's genetics). So in the light of this evening I celebrate to getting my homework done with my glass that is half full...or in my case a happy walk to the refrigerator to top it off! Here's to endless glasses of mutilated grapes, cheers!