[WARNING: The following post gives you a look into the inner mind of GotC. You might experience symptoms of hilarity, confusion, anxiety, or mania. You've been warned. Proceed reading with the utmost caution. Do not read while driving. In fact, after reading this you should take a nap in order to pretend it was all a bizarre and disturbing dream.]
This, my sweet and probably insane readers, is an inside look into my brain. Why am I sharing this with you? No clue. I literally have no reason for it other than I think I’m hilarious. Don’t tell me if I’m wrong. When I’m having a conversation, there is another conversation going on unbeknownst to anyone else inside my head. It’s usually a lot more interesting than the conversation everyone else is hearing, if I do say so myself.
Neighbor: So, you’re refurbishing vintage furniture?
Me: Yeah. I love taking vintage furniture and refurbishing it in a really modern way. I like the juxtaposition of old and new. (Wow. I sound like a complete tool-bag. Why oh why am I talking like this? Juxtaposition? Seriously?)
Neighbor: That sounds great. What have you done so far?
Me: I’ve finished an old dresser, and tomorrow I’m working on a kitchen table and chairs as well as mosaic tiling a coffee-table. (I can’t believe you included the coffee table. It’s not even vintage, it’s just 3 year old Ikea.)
Neighbor: I would love to see them. It sounds like something out of Better Homes and Gardens.
Me: It’s more Sex and the City. Very Carrie Bradshaw. (STOP. Stop right now. You’ve taken the douche-baggery too far. WALK AWAY.)
Co-Worker: What sounds good for lunch?
Me: Anything really. (Dude. I should totally write a script for a movie where people from all different time periods are like, hanging out in Heaven. I bet they would have hilarious conversations. A lot of people think of Heaven as a really calm and chill place but I bet there’s lots of laughs to be had.)
Co-Worker: Should we get something delivered?
Me: Yeah, I don’t feel like driving anywhere. (Albert Einstein would be like “I was right about everything. It’s like, hey if Albert Einstein said it- it’s for real.” and Issac Newton would be like “Ummm, you’re welcome Einstein. I totally set you up. Give me my props yo.” and then Einstein would say “You’re right Newt. Even though we didn’t know each other in life- I always felt like we were homies….”)
Co-Worker: Hey! Are you listening?
Me: Yeah, I’m just thinking about what sounds good for lunch. (Also, I’m writing the best movie ever in my mind.)
How Was Your Weekend?
Friend: So, how was your weekend?
Me: Mmk. I guess. Kinda bouncy. (I wonder who would win in a fight between a vampire and a zombie. But not like a Twilight vampire- like, a real vampire. Because they’re both undead. Who kills who? And how?)
Friend: Bouncy? I don’t know what that means.
Me: You know up and down. Highs and lows. Bouncy. (I bet the zombie takes it. Because they seem more ruthless. No one ever made a movie where a lonely pretty girl falls in love with a zombie and then he bites her and she becomes a zombie because they love each other so much. Zombies don’t fall in love. They are totally ruthless. And like, really hungry for brains.)
Friend: Huh. Still kind of a weird way of describing your weekend.
Me: So, what? All of the sudden it’s “weird” to use language in ways it hasn’t been used before? Geez, read some Shakespeare. (But how would the zombie kill the vampire? I’ve never gotten the impression zombies were particularly bright. I don’t know if they would think of a wooden stake through the heart. Unless Buffy the Vampire Slayer became a zombie. Man, if she became a zombie the vamps wouldn’t stand a chance. But, seriously, what about a regular zombie? How would they win? C’mon GotC- put your thinking cap on.)
Friend: Are you comparing yourself to Shakespeare?
Me: No, you’re comparing me to Shakespeare. (Ripping the head off! Of course, it’s so simple! A zombie would kill a vampire by ripping it’s head off. This is a really proud moment for me. I’ve totally worked out the answer of an unanswerable question.)
Friend: What? No, I’m really not.
Me: Methinks the lady doth protest too much. See what I did there? I proved a point.
Friend: Sometimes, talking to you is like doing drugs.
Me: Except, talking to me is only illegal in 2 states.
Friend: So, a “bouncy” weekend, huh? What happened?
I blew your mind a little bit, didn’t I? It was like I dropped a surreal bomb on you. BOOM!