i am a chill individual but i have my moments. moments where given the right circumstances i want to unleash the fury of hades. i bring this up because for the last couple of weeks my fuse seems to have gotten shorter.
background... i travel for work. so i am rarely in the same place for more than two weeks at a time. i have spent maybe a month in my apartment since i moved into it. not all at one time mind you just cumulatively since i moved in this past February. i like what i do so that is no bother.
given that when i show up at one of my employer's establishments (huge company!) i am usually greeted with some varying degree of incompetence. no worries right. i can deal. this is what i do. i help make them better, stronger, faster, yada yada.
but this go round. i was not doing it correctly.
huh?
yeah. i do not claim to be the smartest guy but i know my shit. and this is my shit. who are you to tell me my shit is wrong? i am here specifically for this shit. i live, eat, breathe, and help plan this shit. but i am wrong? go lick donkey balls, sweaty hairy donkey testes.
don't try to be my friend after you discover i know what the hell i am doing. don't shorten my name like we are frat brothers and you just boinked my mom and we are gonna bump fist and make it all go away.
don't get your feelings hurt when i ignore the living shit out of you because i have turned off my douche radar.
don't think because i am involved in a friendly conversation with a group of your people you can saunter up and join because they know what you did. i told them and they all agree you are a total d-bag.
finally...
do fail to make eye contact with me when you praise the work i have done.
until then,
R.L.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Priscilla Penelope Cooper
i am co-writing a story with my hetero-life mate luis. he has thus far completed three character profiles and i shall now add to this with the mother of the "main" character Harriot. you can check out his character profiles on his blog. i have treated my profile a little different and will have the character speak directly to you.
My name is Priscilla Penelope Cooper. I was born the 31st of August 1910. I met my husband, the late Oliver Wesley Cooper in the summer of my seventeenth year. We were engaged the fall of that same year and married the following spring. From our blessed union was born one child, Harriot Annalynn Cooper. Oliver thought it best to wait for children and I was inclined to agree. He was in the military and gave his life to our nation in the summer of 1944 at Normandy. I have not and shall not remarry. I have a comfortable life and men do tend to complicate things. My dearest friend and neighbor Joan agrees with me on this; she too was widowed but unlike me remarried. Joan complains to no end about her new husband. She spends most of her free time with me. Being as she only has a dog and no children I see Joan everyday.
My daughter, Harriot, and I are not close. I will shoulder some blame for this, but not all. I can see now if I had remarried a male influence may have helped her and me. She is nearly twenty-five and still not one proposal or any suitors. There is that one boy, odd little twitchy fellow, but fortunately I can see her lack of interest in him. Thank heavens. He is very protective of her. But the way he watches her sometimes. Almost like he could give up everything he is and has for her I find quite disturbing. Of course if she waits much longer he may be her only recourse for a family of her own.
I do try my best for Harriot. Giving her tips on her appearance. Her clothing, hair, etiquette what have you. Things any mother does for their daughter. What does Harriot do? She ignores me. Not a nod, not a blink, not a sigh. She will simply look at me and change the subject almost as if none of it matters to her. It is just so gosh darn infuriating. Pardon me. That outburst was inexcusable. I love my daughter. I am very proud of her. She's a nurse and smart enough to be a doctor. I wish she understood that. All I do and ever have done have been out of my endless love for her. I just don't think she understands the way the world works.
I also have this suspicion that something else is going on. She would never tell me of that much I am sure. So I will just have to find out for myself.
Mrs. Priscilla Penelope Cooper
My name is Priscilla Penelope Cooper. I was born the 31st of August 1910. I met my husband, the late Oliver Wesley Cooper in the summer of my seventeenth year. We were engaged the fall of that same year and married the following spring. From our blessed union was born one child, Harriot Annalynn Cooper. Oliver thought it best to wait for children and I was inclined to agree. He was in the military and gave his life to our nation in the summer of 1944 at Normandy. I have not and shall not remarry. I have a comfortable life and men do tend to complicate things. My dearest friend and neighbor Joan agrees with me on this; she too was widowed but unlike me remarried. Joan complains to no end about her new husband. She spends most of her free time with me. Being as she only has a dog and no children I see Joan everyday.
My daughter, Harriot, and I are not close. I will shoulder some blame for this, but not all. I can see now if I had remarried a male influence may have helped her and me. She is nearly twenty-five and still not one proposal or any suitors. There is that one boy, odd little twitchy fellow, but fortunately I can see her lack of interest in him. Thank heavens. He is very protective of her. But the way he watches her sometimes. Almost like he could give up everything he is and has for her I find quite disturbing. Of course if she waits much longer he may be her only recourse for a family of her own.
I do try my best for Harriot. Giving her tips on her appearance. Her clothing, hair, etiquette what have you. Things any mother does for their daughter. What does Harriot do? She ignores me. Not a nod, not a blink, not a sigh. She will simply look at me and change the subject almost as if none of it matters to her. It is just so gosh darn infuriating. Pardon me. That outburst was inexcusable. I love my daughter. I am very proud of her. She's a nurse and smart enough to be a doctor. I wish she understood that. All I do and ever have done have been out of my endless love for her. I just don't think she understands the way the world works.
I also have this suspicion that something else is going on. She would never tell me of that much I am sure. So I will just have to find out for myself.
Mrs. Priscilla Penelope Cooper
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
