The Feared Koalapath

I was chatting with L-Friend on Facebook. She's my best friend and the only person (other than Spousal Unit) that I am permitted to complain to.  L-Friend was letting me vent when she typed:

L-Friend - I would tell you to punch people who annoy you in the throat, but . . . I'm concerned you might actually do it. >_>

Me - lol : P. . .  at least you are aware of my dark vein. So many just don't realize it's so . . .  I want to say prominent.

L- But you're still lovable. Terrifying, but lovable. Like a koala.

Cuddly killer?

M- LOL. I swear I don't mean to be so terrifying (especially to my friends), but the koala thing was hilarious.

L- Have you never seen a koala mad?

M- Nope.

L- Their cute little feet have, like, raptor claws.

• 
  The video L-Friend sent me.
• 
  

  M- They must be psychopaths for them to be so mellow when attacking people.
  
  L- . . . I rest my case.
  
  M- I'm a cuddly fuzzy koalapath.
  
  L- Yes. The feared koalapath.
  
  
  

  

  I touched your heart. Now I have it.

  
  
  ~ misfoijd

• 
  

Gobbling Up Trouble

Every so often, Spousal Unit & I go camping with his dad & his dad's best friend, G. G has his own time frame to go anywhere. What should have been a 5 hour car ride becomes 8. Not due to his driving. (His lead foot makes mine feel like feathers). It's due to him visiting many of his chums along the way. 

One camping trip, we were diverted, once again, to visit one of G's friends. G's friend had a small farm in a wooded area. As with most farms, there are traces of years past still laying about. Rusting old trucks, random fence posts, a swing set, etc. While the rest of the guys went in to talk, I chose to stay outside. Mostly cause I'm a glorified 10 yr old & I wanted to swing on the swing set. 

As I'm swinging, a pair of large fluffy white turkeys come around the house.

Just like this one but x 2.

They were just gobbling away like women talking shoes. As I'm listening to them, I can't help but wonder if I could gobble too. I start trying to break down the art of gobbling: the pitch, the warble, length of the gobble. Before long, I got lost in thought trying to match the sound I was making to the sound I was hearing. It felt like science to me, but I probably just looked funny gobbling all by myself. All this while swinging away.

"The gobble starts at a higher pitch, then alternates down the scale
while never topping the initial high note......."

 The trouble with being in deep thought is you don't notice certain things as well as you should. Otherwise, I probably would have noticed the gobbling getting louder ... and closer. 

Do you know gobbling is partially used for claiming territory and isn't taken too kindly? Apparently, I was doing a decent job at gobbling.

I popped out of my haze in time to see this:

Only larger, fluffier, and exuding the "I'll cut you, B!$@#!" vibe.

I pissed off a pair of poultry who decided pursuit was necessary. It kind of went like this:



One comedic chase scene later, I'm perched on the hood of one of the rusted trucks. Fortunately, they got bored with me quickly and moved on to attacking the sliding glass doors on the house across the yard.

~misfoijd


PS - If you want a good laugh, search youtube for turkey attacks. The one with the cops is hilarious.

Thanksgiving

When I was a kid, I looked forward to Thanksgiving almost as much as Christmas. My entire family would gather under 1 roof and wait in line. All of my aunts, uncles, and cousins would be there. Generally with a casserole or 2. And there was ALWAYS more dessert than food.

Now that I'm older, I think I liked Thanksgiving a bit more. It was one of the few times a year we got everyone together. It wasn't a holiday about getting presents. I feel Christmas has become a bit of a selfish holiday. Not like Thanksgiving. If you bail out on the Christmas party, you didn't get presents. So no one misses a Christmas party if they can help it.

With Thanksgiving, you show up either because you love your family or you want to be well fed. In my book, making sure everyone is well fed is how you show you love them. So hopefully they feel so loved that next year, they come back for the love along with the food. 

Over the years, our family has drifted as the kids started having their own kids. Maybe one day, we'll bring it back together. Although our numbers have dwindled, I'm still as excited about this Thanksgiving as the last.

Kind of feel like the guy in the picture. 

Give me the basics and I'm a happy person. That & some turkey.

~misfoijd

Cuddly Eddie

On August 17, 2012, I became an Iron Maiden fan. I went to one of their concerts that day. Spousal Unit & his friends had been planning this trip since April. They wanted their other halves to like Iron Maiden too, so I was going whether I wanted to or not. Glad I did for I had a wonderful time.

Prior to that day, I had a dislike of the bands mascot Eddie.

General overview of the Eddie over the years.

I just remember when I married Spousal Unit. He put his Eddie doll on the shelf by our bed. Eddie was positioned to where he looked like he was watching us with fascination.

Please don't eat my soul, Eddie! O_O

It doesn't seem like fascination when you wake up and his soulless eyes are staring at you. Looked more like blood lust depending on how dark it was.

This brings me to the concert. As we were all basking in the awesomeness, various versions of Eddie would come and go from the stage. The one that cause my eye the most was, what I call, inflatable Eddie alpha. 

This is how he looked on stage.

After years of awkward discomfort, seeing Eddie in his most cuddly state washed away the nerves. All I could think is "Awe! How so cute!" Sorry, Eddie. I'm female and this is the cutest I've ever seen you.

Having seen Eddie in all his not-scariness, he has lost his menace to me. And to make sure he stays there, I present to you in all his cuddly inflatable cuteness . . . 

EASTER EDDIE!!

No offense to Eddie or Iron Maiden, but it's this or I have nightmares. 

~misfoijd

Fancy Bane

This weekend, Spousal Unit & I went to see The Dark Knight Rises with some of our friends. When we meet Bane, we hear him before we see him and I - not having clue one on who Bane is - guessed based on his voice he'd be a suit & tie guy; possibly fancy with a preference for a monocle & top hat.

Surprise!

Turns out Bane is a big brawny fellow with no hair and no monocle!

As the movie progresses, I'm in awe of how he can speak so proper & not once put on a top hat. Tom Hardy must have fought the urge to wear a monocle, but then again, he pulled off a borderline magical transformation from man to EPIC VILLAIN.

Magic!

By the end of the movie, I was saddened that Bane didn't get the accessories his voice so deserved. 

I FIXED IT!

I made Fancy Bane!

~misfoijd

Cinder Block Shower

Every Independence Day, Uncle Ron brings a massive haul of fireworks to the BBQ. He lives in Missouri which means most of his supply was not available (& probably not legal) in Oklahoma. I truly don't think Ron considered the legality of his interstate explosives.


And sure as sugar, we weren't going to tell him. He brought all the COOL stuff!


There was a new firework we just had to try. It was still daylight & most of our audience was still happily feasting on Burt's Burt Burgers (redundant we know, but they're too tasty for us to care). Perfect time for a quick test. 

I don't remember there being any identifiers on the packaging. I don't remember there being any pictures showing what it did. That probably should have been a big hint.


So we put it in a cinder block to find out just how awesome it was. We were standing the minimum safety distance for a normal firework when time slowed.


THUUM!

Felt like this.

It felt the thud of the explosion on my chest & through the souls of my feet. I was looking right at it when it went off (forgive me on this one. I thought it was going to be small like a ground bloom). Looked like a shell firework popped in the tube except less fire and more pointy things shooting off in all directions. Lots more pointy things.


I don't know what they were expecting but what we got was shrapnel.


We scattered instantaneously. Ron got one to the back. The largest chuck flew off to assault a RV. Some of us got hit, but nothing serious. That stuff could have been used for demolition. By God's grace, no was severely injured. Some how I was spared.


~misfoijd


P.S. - Let me know what kind stories you'd like for future. Post in the comments.

Explosive Definition of Fun

Every Independence Day, my family & extended family gather for a large BBQ at my Uncle Burt's home. He has a small farm near city limits which is prime because the cousins and I like things that go boom. We're not talking about Red Devils or any other small fireworks. 


We once blew up a cinder block. (Different post)

It's my favorite family get-together. It's the only time of the year that me and my male cousins get to play together. My cousins have their own lives, careers, or families. It's a day to go back and be stupid little kids again.


Every year, we leave burnt, covered in soot, buzzed from adrenaline and the smell of sulfur & generally with some temporary hearing loss. We head home grinning from ear to ear.

But this year, we upped the accidentally stupidity level up a few pegs.

List of Stupid Things We Surpassed

• Underestimated the destructive power of a dry ice bomb
• Nearly caught Burt's roof on fire with poorly aimed parachutes
• Thrown rockets at each other
• Launched rockets out of a PVC pipe (we had to trim the fins to fit them in)
• Launched 2 rockets at the same time out of the same PVC pipe
• Launched rockets out of a PVC pipe at each other
• Played Russian Roulette with a Saturn Missiles
• One year, I wound up being bottle rocket target practice

Those are stories for another post. For this past Independence Day was special crazy.

It's getting dark and we had shells to launch. My cousins had bought a mega pack of shells & multiple launch tubes. More than enough for all of us to light them off in groups & multiples. That's besides the other shell sets that had been bought. We were using an upside down circular horse trough as our launching pad. 


We had the space & the tools, so we what do we do....


Big Bang Groupings


We were shelling in mass. 7 people lighting at once with fuses tied together to 2 to 3 shots each. We'd light as a group and gawk as a group then the cycle continued...


You know what happens when some of the shells don't go off & some of the shells get put in tubes they didn't belong to and no one notices? 


VA-VOOOOOOM!!



Very close proxy firework show.


I got burnt on my scalp, chest, arms, & Lord knows what happened to my cousins. All I know is we all had the same response: 


O_O CRAP! *running arm flail*


There was a variety of obscenities, but the gist was the same.


And it happened again and again...


And we still left happy & buzzed, but a bit more burnt than average.


I would do it again any day.


~misfoijd

Flower Power Perplexion

Boss came back to work 2 Mondays ago. In his absence, he left me his phone which I dang near lobed at him while giving him the "never again" glare. He took it in stride and requested a full briefing on all the happenings while he was gone. I proceeded to turbo babble a month's worth of info: house updates, pending closings, people that helped us, hatred of his phone, how he owes me a pony....


Boss - "We should get them flowers!"
Me -  *short pause as I back track to the topic* "Agreed!"
B - "Sounds like they helped a lot. Order them some flowers. Make it so."
M - "Yes, Picard."


I was determined to deliver them myself. In my old SUV. That has NO A/C.

It was worth it.


First stop,


*Gasp* OHMYGOD!! PINK IS MY FAVORITE COLOR!!XD


2nd Stop,


: 3 Awwww! How sweet!


3rd Stop,


Thank you. I really needed a pick me up *HUGS*


. . . 

IDEA!!!

This got me thinking: Spousal unit has been extra helpful recently. I should get him flowers to tell him how much I love and appreciate him.


On my way home, I had to go by Walmart to get some groceries. Since we're in super-saving mode, I figured it'd be the only place I could afford to get flowers. Two birds; one stone, right?


The flower rack at Walmart makes me think of a wounded wildebeest. Don't look to good as a whole, but there's still good parts.


After circling a few times, I spot the perfect bunch. I don't know what they are, but they are dark yellow flowers that are unique and different just like Spousal Unit!


I scoop them up and happily scamper to the check out. I couldn't wait to get them home to Spousal Unit.


When I get home, I open the door and hand him the flowers.


.....


M - "What?..."
S.U. - "Isn't this backwards?"
M - *super sad face* "You don't like them."
S.U. - "No. I like them. It's just odd. Shouldn't I be bringing you flowers?"




~misfoijd

Impressible?

I have a 'matter of fact' way of viewing the world. Because of this, I'm very hard to impress. I guess I take the word almost literally. Unless it leaves a deep impression, your S.O.L.

I fully acknowledge that I'm EASILY amused, amazed, wowed, and distracted. These happen frequently but flits away with the breeze. Still not impressed.

I'm not talking about big wigs or movie stars. They've made their bones in this world and flaunt it everyday. I'm glad for them, but they do not meet what 'true impressive' is to me. I don't know them. I'll never meet them. True impressions should be more .

Truly impressed is very rare for me. It's something that makes me sit back and go "Whoa. They are going places."

A friend of mine never believed me when I told her that she's a talented writer and that she impressed me. She would occasionally ask me to read her work. I'd critique and return it, telling her she's got talent.

I told you all that so I could say this.

She met with Peter S. Beagle (Yes. THE Peter S. Beagle who wrote The Last Unicorn) for a 2 part Writer's Workshop. Yesterday was part one, the one-on-one session w/ Beagle. Here's what he told her: 

“I want you to know this. You’re onto something here. Of all the manuscripts I read for this workshop - and I did read all of them - yours is the one that stuck with me. It’s the one that stayed with me.”

From now on, when ever she feels down about her writing skills or her stories, I have the RIGHT to say:

"Beagle liked you."

I was right :P


~ misfoijd

Found One of My Comics!

Carnival Workers Are Missing Out

Carnivals come to my hometown about 3+ times a year. I generally only attend if I have a huge hankering for funnel cake.

Better with strawberries

On my last visit to the Carnival, Husband & I decided to attack balloons with darts in hope of a stuffed giraffe (at least I think it was a giraffe). There was a pleasantly plumb lady inflating victims in one corner of the booth. We struck up a conversation. She enjoyed being a 'Carnie' with all the travel and meeting new people. The chat shifted to my job....

Me-"I'm a school bus driver."

Carnie- O_O "Oh, God. I could never do that. All those kids...."

M-"Don't you deal with kids?"

C-"Yeah, but I'm in a booth. They stay out there. *waggles hand over the booth's counter* I can't imagine being stuck in a bus with them."

I found this amusing. I guess her & I could never swap jobs. I prefer my job especially now that I'm working for this other district. Man, so many stories.

Want to know some of them? Here's a brief overview:

• Boy walking onto the bus in his boxers
• Kid smashing another kids head against the window
• Random fights for NO REASON
• Kids having sex without discretion
• Boy leaning out a bus window to try and hit his head on a street sign

And that's just from my bus... I have a dozen more second hand ones.

• Coworker nearly wrecked bus when a kid lobbed a D cell battery at his head, knocking the driver out cold.
• Kid threw a rock out a window hitting a windshield of a occupied police car. Bus gets pulled over and the kid arrested on the spot.
• AND MORE!

~misfoijd

Change Is Good.... Right?

It's been too long since I've posted. So much has changed. I've missed you all so much!

Oh the many happy hugs I'd give!

Quick Overview:

• No longer work for the newspaper. (Who saw this coming? *raises hand*)
• Back to being a realtor's assistant for Boss.
• I'm driving a school bus again, but for a the richest one in the county. Last district was pretty rough. New district is in a better place. Less fist fights and more iPhones.
• Back is goobered pretty bad.

Long Overview:

I loved working for the newspaper, but I was delusional to assume the news was black & white like I was trained to believe. I wanted to spread truth; not rumor. 

The publisher also had a ... personality type that baffled me. I'm generally very practical. So when the publisher ordered a new outdoor sign, I understood. The present sign was very old and dated. It was due for an update. Reasonable. But then he had it bedazzled?  He had his graphic designer glue crystals to it, because "it doesn't sparkle enough." The sparkles won't last. The glue won't hold forever. It's a waste of money in so many ways. Maybe I'm just too practical to understand bedazzling signs. 

When I chose to leave the paper, I had to get another job lined up fast. Boss was excited to hire me back. Apparently, I brought him good luck. When I last worked for him, he went from 2 listings to 10. When I left, the listings didn't come in very fast if at all. 

That's all well and good, but real estate goes through dry spells. I need a stable income.

A guaranteed job is big perk of keeping my CDL up to date. Schools will always need bus drivers BECAUSE NO WANTS TO BE ONE. That is until you find the right school (I'll have to do a separate post to cover this). But basically new district is in a better place than my last one. Less fist fights and more iPhones.

Like driving a bus, but multiply by 70.

Ever since last summer, my back has been ... uncooperative. Husband has been nagging me to see a doctor. Boss noticed and made me promise. I saw my doc. X-rays were done. I have 2 points of concern: upper mid-back & lower back. The upper mid-back is muscle based. Powerful muscle relaxers were prescribed. So powerful that I can't drive or stay conscience while on them. The lower back is showing signs of degeneration. The degeneration could be heredity since my mom has it too. Preventative measures are lose weight, maintain good posture, and take calcium. I'll get a 2nd opinion when I can afford to get one.

One problem: the 2 points of pain can't cooperate. Good posture makes my upper mid-back hurt. Bad posture makes my lower back hurt.Can't use the relaxer until the weekends. Makes life....curious.

Here's to a LOT of curious blog posts.


~misfoijd

Nothing Says 'Merry Christmas' Like Headshots

This past week, I've been playing video games as my 'relaxation mechanism.' Generally, I don't play video games unless they have great stories &/or puzzle-based especially ones that involve modifying the average thought process i.e. Portals & Portals 2 (my brain is designed for thinking with portals).


There's only one exception: Mass Effect. Great first-person shooter game with a marvelous story and the last one in the trilogy was just released.


XD


So I wound up exploring various weapons only to fall in love with sniper rifles.

Black Widow (my favorite  :D)

 


I got very good at headshots to the point I could do them in quick succession almost with a rhythm. A rhythm that reminded my of Christmas songs. One song stuck out the most...


"I WISH you a Merry Christmas.
I WISH you a Merry Christmas.
I WISH you a Merry Christmas.
And a HAPPY New Year."


Not a fan of guns in the real world, but in the land of video games.... sniper rifles make me smile.


~misfoijd

L is for Living

     When I first got this job with the newspaper, it was a dream come true. I'd been fighting for a long time to get a foot in the door of the newspaper realm. It's amazing to finally be able to do what I was trained to do, what I went to college for, what I wanted to be. Maybe as cool as an angel playing electric guitar.

    I enjoy working with InDesign and Photoshop (I guess you could tell by the picture). I enjoy that I have a desk to myself that isn't a cubicle. I enjoy my work.

     But there's a issue... I don't get to live.

    My work is an hour from home. On average, I work from 7:15am to 5:30pm for $9 per hour. I understand page designers are lucky to make $12/hr with experience especially working for newspapers. So we afford all the bills, but we aren't able to put much aside in savings. Things pile up during the week so I spend my weekends playing catch up. I don't go to movies, see friends, or much of anything else because after 12 hours (this includes commute) ... I'm just tired.

     I suppose being a morning person is a factor. Michael (aka a night crawler) comes home and bounces around. I come home tired and generally cranky. Think badger...

...except meaner and dressier.

And frankly, I don't like myself when I'm like that. I don't know how my husband can stand me.

NOTE: There's a difference between page designer and graphic designer. On a basic level, it's which program gets used more. I use InDesign quite dominantly while the graphic designer uses Photoshop almost entirely.

EXTRA NOTE: Photoshop focuses mostly on creating images while InDesign focuses on mostly words and arrangement of images. Just so you know....