Real Conversation with Mom: the Transporter Room

The Coolest Christmas Gift Ever!

Me:  I can't believe that Gretchen actually got me a transporter room shower curtain for Christmas!

Mom:  Me either.  I cry every time I go in there.

Me:  Cry?  Why would you cry?

Mom:  It is ugly.

Me:  Mom, it is a transporter room!  When you get in the shower, you can beam to strange new worlds!  Don't you have any imagination?

Mom:  I like this world.  And I like a fancy bathroom.

Me:  Fancy?!  Mother, don't you realize that a transporter room has a lever that compensates for the Heisenberg uncertainty principle?  There is nothing fancier than a transporter room. 

Mom:  That is bullsh!t.  Besides, now you come in there too much and try to interrupt my pee time.  It's bad enough that the kitties won't let me use the bathroom alone, but now you stand out there jiggling and talking about beaming away.  It is very bad.

Me:  Okay, I will try to stop that.  But you have to admit, we now have a very cool bathroom.

Mom:  I will not admit that. 

Me:  But...

Mom:  And your sister is in serious trouble.

Real Conversations with Mom: Copycat Christmas Decorations

************************UPDATE!************************

Upon reading this post, my friend Mark expressed some outrage that it was not accompanied by photos of his decorations.  Not wishing to outrage that Mark (which would put me in the company of some extremely unsavory people), I splashed through the Christmas mud this morning to bring you these images of his festive abode:

 

The Peanuts characters that so entrance Mom

The Grinch whose gaze she finds rather disturbing

 ***************************************************************

Mom:  "Look at that!  Did you see that!  Wait.  Back up!"

Me:  "Back up?  Mom, I'm trying to drive here."

Mom: "There is no traffic on this street.   You back up right now and look at what's in front of that house."

Me:  "Okay, okay.  What?"

Mom:  "Do you see that?!"

Me:  "They have the Peanuts characters in the yard.  I like Peanuts."

Mom:  "Those are the same decorations that Riley's daddy has!*"

Me:  "Yes, that is true.  He has Peanuts characters and the Grinch."

Mom:  "These people have copycatted him!  That is not right.  He had his decorations first."

Me:  "Well, honestly, I think there is room in this neighborhood for more than one house with Peanuts characters."

Mom:  "No, there is not!  What will the little kids think?"

Me:  "?!"

Mom:  "They will not know which house Charlie Brown lives at.  They will be all confused."

Me:  "Um, Mom..."

Mom:  "I mean, think of the poor children.  We should go to that house and tell them to take down those decorations."

Me:  "We will not be doing that."

Mom: "You know what you are?  You are a boring bummer.  You are afraid to tell people what you think."

Me:  "That is so very untrue that, that...there is no more untruer thing in the universe."

Mom:  "Hah!"

Me:  "Really, no one has ever said that to me before.  Ever."

Mom:  "Hey, do you have Riley's daddy's phone number?"

Me:  "Yes, but I'm not giving it to you.  You are just going to cause trouble."

Mom:  "I do not know where I went wrong with you."

*"Riley's daddy" = my friend, Mark.  Riley is his dog.  Mom does not remember the names of my friends, but she does remember the names of their pets.

Things People Have Said to Me This Week

It is finals week, beloved readers, and that means that we (students, professors, people-who-have-to-be-exposed-to-students-or-professors) are a bit crazed.  And you know me well enough by now, precious ones, to know that I keep you all in mind during such weeks, for, lo! they provide much fodder for the blog. 

Things People Have Said 

(or posted or emailed or texted) to Me This Week

• My doctor, turning to his computer after having removed a sliver of glass from my foot:  "C'mon, y'all, where did you hide the foreign bodies?"
• My dear friend Kim, who is responsible for this blog's existence, upon watching me struggle to fasten my seat belt while simultaneously disentangling my purse from my jacket:  "That happens to Remy all the time!" [Note: Remy is 18 months old]
• My friend Liz, shamelessly pandering: "Humping is always interesting."  "I'm just hoping I get quoted in Natalie's blog as being funnier than grading" "I find Natalie needs a nudge now and then."  "Natalie, note humping comment above."  Noted, Liz.  Repeatedly.
• My mom, who had a pinched nerve, upon being told, by me, that moaning "Oh, God!" was starting to get repetitive:  "You asshole!  You asshole, asshole, asshole!"  
• Campus safety officer, upon seeing me attempt to parallel park:  "Huh.  I thought you were getting better at that."
• My sister, after receiving six successive texts that were supposed to go to my friend Kim:  "U need help, serious help..."
• Deno, my wonderful colleague, to Sally, another wonderful colleague, during a department meeting:  "Smack her, please.  I can't reach that far."
• My colleague Amy, in response to my "Ow, ow, ow!" floating toward her down a hallway:  "Good morning, Gnat.  When I hear 'ow,' I always know it's you."

Now, for the fun part, says I:  let's put all of these comments together and see what it reveals about my week:

C'mon, y'all, where did you hide the foreign bodies?  That happens to Remy all the time! Humping is always interesting.  Natalie, note humping comment above. You asshole!  You asshole, asshole, asshole!  Huh.  I thought you were getting better at that.  U need help, serious help...Smack her, please.  I can't reach that far.  Good morning, Gnat.  When I hear 'ow,' I always know it's you.

All in all, I'd prefer more humping and fewer assholes and slivers of glass next week.  If it's all the same to you.

More Office Door Signs!

I can't help it.  I now have an endless supply of these door hangers, and the temptation is just too great:

Because we NEED the Oxford comma, dammit!

No one really wants to know the details anyway

It's a serious illness, you know.

Establishing priorities is important

Showing off my linguistic facility

Really, either one would be welcome.

Because watching you text is not what I consider a productive meeting

You have to say it with a Scottish accent

Hee-hee!  For everyone, my humor is not.

And in what others do not know.

Especially for finals week

This Year's Funniest Responses to My Facebook Posts

So several of you have decided to use the spirit of this holiday weekend to chastise me for not posting more often.  I am, now, deeply ashamed.  However, Mom has decreed that ALL the laundry shall be done before Monday, so I really didn't have the time or energy to be creative today.  It was a serious conundrum, my friends, which vexed me for almost thirty-five unbearable minutes.  Then it finally occurred to me that you all are both energetic and creative, especially when it comes to writing snarky, humorous or confounding responses to my status updates on facebook.  Hence, I collected my ten favorite from 2014, and I present them to you for your amusement:

This Year's Funniest Responses to My Facebook Posts

1. How many squirrels had to make the ultimate sacrifice for those Christmas towels to be purchased? 
2.  I've never thought about threatening to burn skin off of faces. The things I learn from my online colleagues.
3. All I got was a piece of candy cane stuck to my foot.
4. Hey, Troilus, is that a love letter in your pocket, or...well...sorry.
5. Perhaps one of the extra stockings belongs to Flamingo?
6. I hesitate to wonder what a Dalek bathroom would entail.  Eliminate! Eliminate!!
7. It looks like it would hold plenty of dead squirrels.
8. Gnat, a raging angel.  Just right. [Note:  this one is funny because it was posted by my provost.  Who understands me all too well.]
9. Well, we all know that penis-sucking-vaginas are real people-pleasers.  [Note:  not posted by my provost.] 
10. I have plenty of unused lampshades since I have given up wearing them lately.

Actually, these aren't as funny out of context as I thought they would be.  In fact, this whole post kind of sucks.  But I'm going to hit the little "publish" button anyway, so I can go do more laundry and throw some pots without some guilt-trip bringing me down. Satisfied?  Good.

Black Friday Texts to My Cousin Beth

Greetings and Happy Holidays, Beloved Readers!  It has been too, too long.  As I compose this cheery missive, I am curled up in Mom's broken recliner (the new one is being delivered this afternoon, the fourth in ten years.  Don't ask me.  I  have no idea what she gets up to when I'm at work, but whatever it is, it's rough on those recliners), sipping holiday tea and recovering from an exhilarating* morning Christmas shopping or, as many of my friends will no doubt remind me, contributing to the consumerist destruction of civilized society.

I wore black and red.  You know, because if sales are good, then shops go from being in the red to being in the black?  Get it?  That's okay.  Nobody else did either.

My cousin Beth had planned to engage in this same ritual, but she was feeling sick today and had to stay at home.  I, therefore, decided to amuse and appall her by sending periodic text messages updating her on the progress of my own shopping expedition.  And now, because I love you all so much, I present those texts to you as well.

6:57am:  Off to the stores!  First stop:  the bookstore!

7:15am:  Ah! My hunt was delayed, for I had to turn around and go back to put out the garbage can.  The holiday schedule is my bane.

7:25am:  I have now run over a squirrel, poor victim of crass consumerism.

7:42am:  The ad said that this book store opened at 6am, but they are not opening until 8am.  Great is the wrath of impatient shoppers crowding the sidewalk!  I will leave this place and venture into the most dangerous realm of all:  the Mall.

8:45am:  Have been shopping for over an hour now.  Everything I've bought so far has been for me.  I am going to have a good Christmas, apparently.

9:03am:  Thought about getting a cinnebon,**  but it looks too much like the squirrel I have slain.

9:20am:  People keep waving me into good parking spaces.  Just realized that I have Mom's car and am displaying her handicapped tag.***  The guilt just keeps piling up.

9:59am:  Stray dog just peed on the tire of Mom's car.  Don't tell her.

10:12am:  Dog made me need to pee.  Headed back to bookstore.

10:33am: Successfully peed, thanks for asking.  Put Mom's tag in glove compartment.  Got flipped off by someone in a Lexis.  Feel better about myself.

10:37am:  Starting to get crowded out here.  Everyone must have finally found what they wanted at Best Buy.

10:48am:  Stopped for tea.  My parents couldn't afford to buy me legos when I was a kid, and now that I am an adult, I can't afford to buy the expensive adult lego sets of famous buildings.  Lego might be my arch nemesis.

11:22am:  Almost all shopping done, except for Mom.  Now entering the terror which is the Kohl's parking lot.

11:39am: Kohl's is vicious.  Heard a manager begging customers to stop yelling at him.  Thought about giving him a hug, but didn't want to lose my place in line.

11:57am:  Stepped in gum.  Tried to get it off and kicked shoe across parking lot.  Car ran over shoe.  Time to call it a day.


*Did everybody else know that there were two A's in that word? 
**This word should have a U, but it doesn't.  I am orthographically confused today.
***I did not park in any handicapped spaces.  I am a squirrel-murderer, but not a sociopath.

Real Conversations with Mom: Gardening

Mom:  "Listen!  If you don't do what I tell you, your ass is grass, and I am the lawnmower!"

Me:  "Mom!  Where did you hear that?"

Mom:  "I've known it for a long time.  A long, long time."

Me:  "Fine, well, could you carry this folder inside while I get the bags?"

Mom:  "I don't know.  That might be too heavy for me.  I am delicate, you know."

Me:  "The sarcasm is running pretty thick today."

Mom:  "Vroom-vroom!  Vroom-vroom!"

Me:  "What?"

Mom:  "Vroom-vroom!  I am the lawnmower, and don't you forget it!"