Thursday, March 22, 2012

I'm having a me partaaaaay

You guys, how is it only Thursday? Every day this week has gone really quickly and yet the week itself has lasted at least 12 years by now. For serious. I also haven't posted in two weeks, which is ridiculous, but in my defense, I thought I posted last week which is totally a good excuse. I'm having a hard time believing that March is almost over so in my head, I was all, "oh, it's still like March 14th." But it's not, you guys, it's March 22nd. It's SPRING. Although, if you went by the thermometer, it's more like summer. What is going on? It is so blazing hot in our house, at least upstairs (the basement is Cool City, population US), but I refuse to turn on the AC, even for a few days, because IT IS MARCH AND THAT IS CRAZY. Do you hear that, Ohio? Cut it out right now.

I realize, even as I complain about the unseasonably warm weather, just how crazy it all is because just a month ago, I should have been complaining about how cold it was. But it never really got all that cold this winter. I think it only snowed a couple of inches and we didn't even get one freak ice storm. Which...yeah, great, but I don't feel as thankful for the warm weather this year because, whatever, it was like sixty degrees on Christmas day. I think. I don't remember. I didn't blog about it so who knows if Christmas even happened. 

So here's something weird (GREAT SEGUE, JENNIE). I've grown completely addicted to a show I never, ever thought I'd be this obsessed with, and that show is The Good Wife. I cannot explain to you why I love it so much OH WAIT YES I CAN, it's because all I want in this universe is for Will and Alicia to make out and have a million, trillion babies. YOU GUYS. I love them. Well. Mostly Josh Charles, who I will forever love for the following reasons: Sports Night, Dead Poets Society, and (this accounts for at least 80% of my love for him) Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead.

Anyway, we just started the second season and there have been NO MAKEOUTS YET. COME ON YOU GUYS JUST MAKE OUT ALREADY. UGH. I'm not trying to be all Cooper Nielson or anything, but why won't TV characters just do what I want when I say I want it? Stupid writers.

Let's see, what else have I done recently. OH. This is important! A couple of weekends ago, I watched The Gate. I know I've talked about The Gate before. I just know it. Hold on, I'll try and find it. OH MAN DON'T WORRY, here it is. So yeah. The Gate is a charming tale of two siblings, allowed to stay home all alone one weekend, and the little boy's (STEPHEN DORFF!) friend and also two of the older sister's friends who are awful. There is a hole in the backyard from having a tree removed (not, as I previously stated, from them trying to dig a pool...what) so they put a gate over it. Obviously.

Some other crazy shit happens, like the boy's friend thinking he sees the ghost of his dead mother, and then dancing with said ghost, only to wake up to find he's been dancing and hugging the family dog, WHO IS ALSO DEAD WHAT THE FUCKING HELL. I had completely forgotten about that part. I guess my young mind edited it out of my brain to protect my fragile mind. I'm not sure it worked. But OK, back to the story. The dog ends up buried in the backyard, next to the hole to Hell, which causes a bunch of demons to come spilling out and it's just a bad situation all around. I won't tell you how it ends because you should obviously watch it. It's on Netflix Instant and you're welcome in advance.

As I was writing this, I felt like there was something I hadn't told you guys and I just remembered what it was, but I feel unprepared to tell you the story at this time (not because it's bad or anything but because it's kind of a long story) so I'll tell it next time, I promise (I am sure you're on pins and needles), but I can tell you that it involves groundhogs and peeing outside. YEAH GET EXCITED.

Friday, March 09, 2012

I need a check-up from the neck up

I’ve been scared of bats ever since I was a little girl. When I was five or so, I was spending the night at my aunt’s house and I woke up at one point to find a bat sitting on my chest. I screamed bloody murder, woke up the entire house, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Except not really because no one believes it actually happened. They think I dreamt it. It’s one of those things everyone still laughs at me about, like the time I forgot to get off the bus in Kindergarten or when I started sobbing over my oatmeal one morning because I didn’t want to go to church (PMS). I’m of the mind that, whether or not it ACTUALLY happened, it was still traumatizing enough (at a very impressionable age, I might add) that I’ve been terrified of bats ever since.

Enter: our recent trip to Mexico.

We went to Mexico for my friends Mary’s wedding. It was a pretty great trip, as far as trips go, and a REALLY great wedding. We got to Puerto Vallarta last Thursday in the early afternoon, with plenty of time to go swimming and enjoy a few drinks by the pool. The wedding itself was on Saturday and, since I was a bridesmaid, I got to go to the wedding location early with Mary and the other bridesmaids.

The wedding was held at a more private location than the resort. It was only accessible by a 45 minute ferry ride, which sounds like it might suck BUT IT DIDN’T YOU GUYS WE SAW WHALES! WHALES! A mom whale and a baby whale! The captain let the boat idle for a bit so we could watch them. We also saw some baby pelicans but...come on. Whales > Pelicans.

But what of the bats, you might be asking? I’m getting to it.

Once we got to the wedding location, we had some relaxation time (seriously, it was scheduled) until about 1, at which point we ate lunch and started getting ready for the wedding. This involved showering, since we’d been lying on the beach for two hours, and there being a limited number of showers, we didn’t have a lot of extra time. Maybe we should have scheduled less relaxation time, who knows.

A friend and I decided to use the spa bathrooms, which were kind of rustic in that they were made to look cabin-y and didn’t have very much hot water. Other than that, they were fine. Each spa bathroom had a shower to the left, just as you entered, and a separate stall beyond the shower, where the toilet lived. The ceiling was high and sloped up to its highest point just over the toilet.

Anyway, so I went into my bathroom and started getting my stuff ready in the semi-dark, because either I couldn’t find a light or there wasn’t one. My friend knocked on the door to borrow some soap and, as we were talking, she looked up and shrieked, “THAT’S A BAT UP THERE.”

Now. I did not freak out. In fact, I was mad that she’d pointed it out to me, because I didn’t have my glasses on so, at that point, it just looked like a big dark blob and I probably never would have noticed it. My friend was all, “I’m sorry...I’d offer to switch bathrooms with you but I don’t think I can shower with a bat.” I glanced at the bat-like blob again. He was just hanging there, sleeping. I tried to tell myself he was a nice bat, like Batty, who was the only nice bat I could think of at the time. He’d probably just sleep through my shower, right?

So I took one for the team. I decided to shower in the presence of a bat, because god forbid I throw the entire wedding off because I was afraid of a teeny tiny animal. I was all, “He’s far enough away. He’s not even over the shower, he’s over the toilet. I just won’t pee. Unless he comes at me, in which case I will pee all over myself.” True story. As I showered, I barely took my eyes off of the bat. Which is why I noticed immediately when part of the bat separated from the rest and started flying around the bathroom.

“EEK!” I shouted. I seriously did. I shouted EEK. It turns out that’s a real noise. And you’d make that noise, too, if suddenly you were showering with two bats.

At that point I had shampoo in my hair, plus I was, you know, naked, so I couldn’t go running out of the bathroom screaming. I continued my shower, my eyes wide, staring right at the bats, one of which was still fluttering around the ceiling, while I made whimpering noises and crouched under the water. I decided not to close my eyes again, not even if I got soap in them, which is how I noticed that another part of the bat separated from the first bat and started flying around the bathroom.



I mean. I did survive, obviously. With (most of) my mental faculties intact, even. I took the fastest shower of my life, all the while watching two out of three bats flutter menacingly around the room. I’m surprised I didn’t cut myself terribly while I was shaving, lose a bunch of blood, and pass out on the floor, at which point the bats would whip out their vampire fangs and finish me off.

In the end, I lived to tell the tale. TO EVERYONE. I tried not to make too big of a deal out of it, though. I mean, sure, I battled three bats and came out victorious but my friend got married while wearing heels IN THE SAND, so who is the bigger hero here, really?