Twat Waffles and Twiddle Parties

Apparently people find me to be very amusing when I am tired. Perhaps this is because I don't have a filter for all the random inside my brain.

Talking to Pixie and TrollDiva about lots of assorted things, like the running joke that the ladies throw twiddle parties while the men are away. We once went into great detail about running naked through the house. Wearing party hats and making a lot of noise with our penis-shaped vuvuzela's.

Today, Pixie asked to borrow my lighter so I scrunched up my face and said "No". Then I gestured at my lap and handed it to her while saying "twat lighter". I looked at TrollDiva and smiled saying Pixie was touching my twat and it only seemed fair since Pixie makes me touch her "D" all the time. Which "D" is what she calls her lighter on a tether in case you were wondering. Then I called Pixie a twatwaffle which brought about the conversation of Blue Waffles. Pixie was not aware of the meaning of either so TrollDiva educated Pixie on the matter of Blue Waffles. After which I made commentary to the affect that I was trying to figure out what could cause a Blue Waffle. This in turn spurred TrollDiva to look it up. In case you were wondering about that; there is no known disease that causes it, and it was originally a prank played on a mayor.

TrollDiva is wearing a shirt with cherries on it so I said she was all cherries today. Then I promptly asked if you could pop those cherries. She looked at me in a comically suggestive way and said "you know it". To which I replied " have you guys ever heard that song ' pop that coochay'?" They laughed at me because that was how I said it, and then immediately followed that by saying "I heard it scroll by in my head". Which only served to make them laugh more.

I'm a weirdo.

Apathetic Rage Depression

Sorry, I really haven't been writing very much. I don't think I posted anything at all last month and then I felt guilty, because of the guilt: I posted one I was holding back so I could at least have something this month. That said; I've been in a funk.

A weird apathetic/rage/depression. I am not sure what you would call it. It started off with just being irritated at everything all the time. Those things that infuriate your obsessive compulsive tendencies but you can't yell at people about it because not everyone is anal retentive about these things.

Not just those but also other things that normally would just be a nuisance enraged me to the point I felt like droppin' plates [Insert Disturbed song here] just to hear something break so I could feel better.

I'm aware these things either can't be helped (like the cat), or they are some weird quirk of my own so I feel bad even bringing it up.

I'm guessing my lack of expression, or lack of ability to express the irritation led to the apathy. I am currently still in the (more or less) apathetic depression.

At first I just stayed in my room, balled up on my bed, buried under the covers with no motivation to get up and do anything. The cat draped across my head did not bother me, and when she started to purr, it did not soothe me. I just felt very motivated to do nothing but lay there.

I thought maybe if I forced myself up and to socialize I might feel better. They say that if you keep smiling and trying to be happy, eventually you will be. That, my friends, is a LIE. For the past several weeks I have been forcing myself out of bed and socializing with the housemates. I genuinely smile, laugh, and talk, but I still don't feel happy. I don't feel anything. HAHAHAHA-oh kind of thing happening.


Then when I did start feeling things again (which I do now but only just) it is brief moments of extreme sadness or bright flashes of anger. Mostly, I spend my time thinking. The moments of sadness generally come with the thinking. The flashes of anger when I am out in the common areas.

I constantly have an inner monologue going on because of the heightened awareness of EVERYTHING, that came with this strange state of existence.

So that's kind of my daily battle. Now don't get me wrong here, The house is not a filthy mess. I just notice every little thing that has any possibility of annoying me. Especially since I have a weird super power for it now. Oh. LISTEN PUNY NON-GINGERS! THE NEIGHBOR TO OUR LEFT PUT THE TOILET PAPER ON THE ROLL WRONG!


Snap awake from a restless sleep. THE CAT WILL PUT HER BUTT ON MY HEAD IN EXACTLY...3...2...1. catbutt. I'm not even sure whether to be grateful for the apathy most of the time or not. At least if I just feel "meh" I'm not, NOT happy, but I'm not angry or depressed either.

Time marches on.

Fights: Finish Him!

Where to start? First, let me say I am a redhead, sometimes called ginger, often called grumpy. It's frustrating that any grumpiness or anger I might show is attributed to the color of my hair; rather than the fact I might have a legitimate reason for being upset. People make jokes about my not having a soul so I stare at them intently and tell them to continue speaking and soon they will not have one either.

Any way the point is that when I was a child I was shy and quiet but I did indeed have an awe-inspiring temper. It was not easily set off but some things triggered it instantaneously. I have only been in a handful of fights my whole life and most of them were with boys. This is the first fight I was ever involved in.

When I was probably about 7 years old I was wandering around the neighborhood by myself, minding my own business, poking at sticks, and random debris trying to find something to do. I heard someone start shouting things at me. When I looked it was a boy about my own age.

I pretty much ignored him and continued poking through the debri looking for something interesting. Keep in mind I had never met this boy before. He started making fun of me, my clothing, my hair, and what I was doing. So I stopped poking around and went to say something to him. I approached calmly and told him he needed to stop being mean to me because I didn't do anything to him.

For some unknown reason when I was telling him to stop he started to hit me with a stick that I had previously not noticed. Being the type of person I was at the time I blocked his strikes with my arms and was probably just going to leave and go home. I was never the confrontational type, actually I was kind of a wimp. But the boy starts insulting my mother and my sisters. How he knew I even had sisters is beyond me. Unfortunately for him, this has always been something that sent me over the edge into full on rage. From any perspective it's kind of like my version of hulking out. I'm sitting there one second talking to you and trying to get you to stop whatever it is and the next there is a very angry redhead in your face (which I have been informed is very terrifying indeed).

Growing several feet and my hair going all DBZ is probably an exaggeration.

I then snatched that stick out of his hands and proceeded to beat him with it until he was curled up in a ball pleading with me to stop.

In that moment I realized what I was doing and was faced with a moral dilemma. In a matter of seconds I realized I was not behaving any better than he, I had caused another human pain (that wasn't related to me), he was now lying on the ground crying, and finally it dawned that I might get in trouble. At the last realization I dropped the stick and hauled ass home as quickly as my little legs would carry me.

When I made it home I pretended nothing had happened and hoped that nothing would come of my suprising momentary rage. A few minutes passed and I was beginning to relax when there was a knock at the door.

I cautiously peered around the corner and stared at the front door. My parents opened the door and there stood an old man and the smug face of that terrible little boy. 

As you can imagine my parents were pretty angry and they told the old man they would discipline me accordingly. When the two left my parents turned to talk to me about it. They were legitimately confused because it was not in my nature to just beat someone with a stick for no reason. So I told them what had happened. I didn't get in any trouble at all. They told me I had better never start a fight, but I should always be the one to finish it.

This is how I learned it's okay to beat people up as long as they aren't related to me and they start the fight.
(Rule not applicable to siblings especially).