Monday Post

For your viewing delight:

I won a sexy, sexy tote bag in an online writing contest. The prompt was to write a scary story in 250 words or less about being followed in a dark alley.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, PREPARE TO BE SCARED UNTIL YOU DIE.

It was cold and the night had been strange.

The alley looked longer than usual, stretching forward into garbage cans and dark shapes, unrecognizeable with soft edges, blurring into the night.

Everything was still. His footsteps were the only sound as he moved forward quickly, not as confident as he looked, acutely aware of the unearthy hour it was and the way the light was fading behind him, not following into the blackness ahead. His jacket wasn’t warm enough. He hugged it to his body anyway, feeling the cold seep in through each individual thread as he strained his eyes against the growing dark.

There wasn’t a specific moment when it dawned on him that he was being followed. There had been that uncomfortable feeling ever since he stepped into the alleyway, and it had crept up his spine and into his mind so gradually that he hadn’t noticed. There was a shadow in the alley with him, just out of sight. He would jerk his head to look at it sometimes, but it always danced away.

It stopped dancing after a while, though, it just stayed in the corner of his eyes until he turned one final time and it had solidifed into what must be a person, not just another shape but the tall dark outline of someone who had been following him for ages and ages. He started to run, but he already knew that the alley never ended.

Sunday Post

Today, my roommates and I turned our living room into a forest.

I tried to take a picture of it but that didn't work.

We found giant fall leaves and made them dangle from the ceiling, and put glow in the dark stars everywhere. Then we made a tent out of blankets. And we will be sleeping in the woods underneath the stars tonight on a pile of blankets, thank you very much.

Green Food Coloring as a Cosmetic

If you ever find yourself wondering what would happen if you rubbed green food coloring on your lips, don't do it. Because if you give in to temptation and put that crap on, a really attractive guy might call you and ask if you want to carve pumpkins with him. And you will have some explaining to do.

In all seriousness though. I had to scrub my lips. That was a new one.

I got it all off eventually.

Soulless

A few nights ago, this guy named Ian was talking about a friend of his with me.

"She's a vegetarian," he said, laughing at this absurdity, "We tease her about it so much. Vegetarians have no souls."

Saddended by this bit of news, I replied "Oh. I am one of them."

Ian looked taken aback.

"A vegetarian?"
"Yeah."
"Like...you don't eat meat?"
"Right."
"On purpose?"
"Actually it's this very frustrating condition where meat won't stay on my fork. I've tried everything. Superglue, putting my face on the plate, nothing helps."

Ian looked at me for a minute.
"Okay," he said.
We changed the subject.

Peace n' Blessings

In the Mormon religion, there is this thing where you can bless someone who is ill. A group of men put their hands on said person's head and pray over (for?) them to help them recover.

One Sunday, my beloved roommate Emily was very ill. She had lost her voice so badly that it was actually kind of hilarious.
...But mostly sad that she was sick.

So other roommates and I went to church and there was this dude Ben. And we said "Hey Ben. Emily would like a blessing aiight? Kbai."

Then we parted ways.

When church was over, I was in a jolly temperament. I bounced down the stairs to my apartment, singing loudly, and I swung the door open hard and fast and directly into the back of Ben's head as he prayed over my roommate.

I then immediately sprinted away.
So as not to disturb the prayer.




Don't worry I found him later and apologized and he wasn't even concussed.

An Effective but Impolite Technique for Dodging Meatloaf

One time, we had meatloaf in my dinner group.
When I arrived, I didn't know what it was. I went over to the stove and peered into the deep, mysterious pan with the sudden knowledge that I was doomed.
Oh no, I thought. I'm not sneaky enough for this.
"Take some!" the cook said happily, because this was a man who loved his meatloaf. I froze. I looked at the meatloaf. I looked at chef Jordan. He seemed to be planning on watching me until I served myself some hamburger-ketchup cake.
"I actually have to go," I told him, with what I hoped was an innocent, charming smile, "I just remembered."
Jordan seemed unfazed.
"Okay!" he said, "You can come over later and get some."

I left, I did some things, and I contemplated how rude it was to look at food someone had prepared for you and then tell them that you had to leave. My roommate and I returned to Jordan's apartment.

"Hello," he said, "Are you here for meatloaf?"
"No," I replied stoically, "I am here to confess."
Jordan was intrigued.
"I did not eat your meatloaf because I don't eat meat. Not because it looked gross. I felt bad for being so awkward about it."
Jordan processed this, bobbing his head slightly.
"Whoa," my roommate said, "Really?"
I gave her a serious look so she would know how deadly serious I was.
"Well, I knew something was up," Jordan said with the air of a detective revealing how the mystery had been solved, "But I wasn't offended. I just thought...she must not like meatloaf. More for me!"
Suddenly he stood up and headed into his kitchen.
"Do you want cereal?"
"What? Uh, no thanks."
"I have a lot of apples..."

For a moment I didn't understand what had filled him with the desire to start giving me all his food.

"Thanks but I'm good, I didn't come tell you this so you'd feel obligated to give me something else, I promise--"
"I could make you nachos. Like, just with cheese. Not with meat."
"Jordan you are the best but really, you don't need to feed me."
"Look, I have a whole bag of clementines."
"...Okay I will eat a clementine."


So everything went better than expected, and although I don't have hard evidence, I am almost positive that Jordan has since forgotten the whole thing, including my vegetarianism.

Roommates

I really like my roommates. They are great at cheering me up even when they don't realize that they are cheering me up. For example, last night we ended up reading all the foods on this website over and over and laughing like fools for about half an hour.

You should try it. Out loud is much funnier than to yourself.

Another reason I like them is because, as far as I can tell, none of us are morning people. This is perfect because I have a really, really hard time with morning people. If I recall correctly when I woke up this morning, the only thing that anyone said for about the first hour of me being awake was "whoa, dense cotton ball."
Which I appreciated, firstly because cotton balls with unexpected density can be alarming and secondly because I don't regain my ability to communicate until 10 am or so.

Avoiding Slabs of Chicken

I am in a dinner group, the members of which are not aware that I do not eat meat. I am terrible at being sneaky. So terrible.

Today, Trevor--a delightful young man in my dinner group who loves his protein--made giant slabs of chicken with salad and bread. Normally, I can eat the sides and dodge the meat and life is cool. BUT TODAY, Trevor was distributing the meat-slabs.
"Which one do you want?" he inquired politely.
"Ummmm no thank you," I responded in a casual, devil-may-care attitude, turning to the salad as though this were no big deal.
"Hey wait," he said, "You can't skip the main course. That's not normal."
"I," I said quickly, thinking on my feet, "IIII ate a bowl of chocolate cheerios when I got home from school and now I just need healthy food to balance it out."
Trevor narrowed his eyes.
"Chocolate cheerios?"
"Yep. Yeeeep."
"Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah!" I said with a winning laugh, grabbing my garlic bread and dashing to the couch.
"Okay," Trevor said, "I'll put a piece in a tupperware and you can eat if for lunch."
"That sounds...fantastic!"

Time passed. Small talk was made and a football game played in the background. I waited for the perfect opportunity. When Trevor seemed completely immersed in the game, I leapt to my feet. "Thanks Trevor! Bye guys!" I shouted, making a beeline for the door.
"Wait--" Trevor began to say, so obviously I immediately shut the door and made like a bolt of lightening down the stairs and into my apartment.

...It would probably be better just to tell people that I do not want their meat products.