Sometimes I suddenly realize that I am giving orders to a cell phone, or demanding a falling bottle to stop that, or having a full blown conversation with the chair I'm sitting in.
Does anyone else do that? I have to assume it’s not completely weird and unheard of, since I haven’t been carted off to the asylum yet wrapping myself in a manufactured hug and bouncing off of padded walls. And you just know I’m not the type to be keeping that to myself, or to be careful about not actualizing that weirdness in public. I don’t have that oh-people-might-stare-at-me filter that seems to come so easily to others.
Some of it is innocuous, like placing my phone on a table and telling it to “Stay!” in a commanding tone. You have to do it in a commanding tone, so that they recognize you as leader of the pack and an authority. Cell phones will make a run for it at the first sign of weakness. They’ll try to take over your whole LIFE! It’ll be a dang mutiny, I tell you! And they’ll have no compunction about pulling in the tablets, the computers, even the cable boxes into their insidious little plan to take you down. You have to nip that right in the bud.
But other times, I’ll just be laying on the couch, all comfy-cozy, reading my beloved Kindle (Kindle and I are a whooooole other love story. And not star-crossed or anything. Just in love and happy together and if you try to separate us, we’ll run away together and you’ll never see us again.), and I will start musing out loud about how great it is. “Say, Couch, has anyone told you lately how delightfully cozy you are? How astonishingly soft and lovely? And so supportive! I feel that you support me in all aspects of life, Couch. You cushion my falls, you help me bounce back from the depths. Oh, Couch, you’re always there for me!” And then it starts to deteriorate into more peculiar territory.
Apparently when I am waxing poetic about my furniture, I rely heavily on adverbs.
You may be right. I may be crazy...
but it just may be a lunatic you’re lookin’ for.
but it just may be a lunatic you’re lookin’ for.
Either way, some people call me crazy, some call me weird, some call me a space cowboy, but I just like getting calls. :)
In other news, not at all strange, I recently backed a Kickstarter campaign for the ARKYD! It’s a space telescope. And in return for backing them, I get to have MY PICTURE IN SPACE taken with the telescope’s camera. A SPACE SELFIE WITH EARTH IN THE BACKGROUND.
No...seriously.
^^This is the kickstarter!
BAM.
FOR SERIOUS, YO.
I learned about this whole ARKYD thing through The Oatmeal. Big surprise, right? A person who loves bears, weird noises, laughs at fart jokes, and has a crazy cat lady friend (more than one, actually. Just lucky, I guess.) loves reading The Oatmeal. SHOCKING.
^^Here is the actual Oatmeal comic from which I first heard of this strange and amazing ARKYD project.
This was the best $25 I have ever spent. And I don’t even care that I have to wait a couple of years for the building and the launch and whatnot that goes into a public space telescope (Do I look like a rocket surgeon??), because at the end, I’ll have a picture of myself (and possibly BF, should I choose to share my space-y spotlight) IN FRICKIN’ SPACE.
This may be the only evidence of any patience that I will ever have. Someone should write this down somewhere, maybe record the date and time and file it where we can access it as needed to prove that I can display a shred of patience when absolutely necessary.
I feel like anything I say now will be anticlimactic and a little sad. And not about space, which automatically makes it less awesome.
Nonetheless, when have you known me to stop talking simply because it might seem like a good idea or could possibly keep me out of trouble, simply by shutting up? Never, that’s when. Ask my parents, they will happily expound on THAT topic.
For a really long time.
I get it honestly.
Recap: stuff about me talking to things that don't talk back (surprise!), more stuff, ME IN SPACE.
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