Someone for everyone

                In an earlier post I discussed the phrase “There is someone out there for everyone,” which irritates me to no end.  I said if you are going to tell me this then you need to tell me where she is. I think this is a fair demand. Of course, I do not think anyone is out there for me. People always say try to find your soul mate. This opens other questions with me.

                Can you have a soul mate if you do not actually have a soul? People have told me that I am missing that one item. They tell me things like this all the time. I have heard compassion and a metaphoric heart as well. At least I hope they mean a metaphoric heart as it would be hard to keep on living without it.

                What if your soul mate is a walnut and you eat it without even knowing it? What if it is some other inanimate object like a garden gnome? Come on, those gnomes have to serve some purpose…

                What if you are straight and your soul mate is the same gender?

                What if you are closely related to your soul mate (EWWWW, sorry that one just occurred to me and yes, I am a little-no, a lot, sickened by the idea)?

                What if you sell your soul to the devil? Does that mean the devil has rights to your soul mate?

                What if your soul mate is an animal? Treating an animal like a soul mate gets the police and PETA involved and no one wants that. I do not think they would accept soul mate as an excuse for certain kinds of behavior. Freak.

                What if they died hundreds of years ago?

                Of course the main problem with the concept of soul mates is that most people think a certain celebrity fills the bill. Repeated letters, calls and visits to their home while they are out (with a requisite going inside the house and rifling through their belongings. It is okay to do this as long as you are their number one fan and you have the paperwork to prove it) are ignored.  All this gets you is the police involved and a restraining order telling you that the celebrity no longer wants you near them. Don’t worry, they are just playing hard to get.

                Back to my point (if there even is one) is that the phrase ”There is someone out there for everyone” is completely misleading and a lie. People tell me this is a rule which means there is an exception to it. Yes, I know that I am the exception, which is fine since I like breaking rules---especially grammar ones.

                With my luck I have already met my soul mate and they were so put off by my sarcastic nature or my “meh” attitude or any number of other flaws they sworn off men completely and now life a life of complete solitude where they commune with nature and only eat wheat by-products. Apparently I am good at turning people and since we were supposed to be together I turned her especially hard.

                I suppose they might be right and there is someone made for me. I fear certain things if this is correct.

                She is a TV/movie character and I will only see her on the screen which, as everyone knows, will not keep me warm on a cold night.

                She is even kinkier than I am. That is probably not possible but one can never tell.

                She is allergic to me personally and keeps sneezing on me.

                She thinks the Kardashians and the cast of “Jersey Shore” are really fascinating people.

                She looks at me and asks me to take off my mask. When I tell her that this is not a mask she laughs and walks away.

                Is there a website for finding  your soul mate, like a site that guarantees you will find your soul mate in three months or they will give you one month free?

                                    

                                                                                               Her majesty, Kim Bookless, made this better.

Keep it confidential

                I have been employed by several school districts and they all have strict confidentiality agreements which limit how much I can write about them. I am going to put down what I am allowed to write about. The rest of this blog will clearly demonstrate how much the confidentially agreements allows me to say or write.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                That is all I can say without violating my agreement.

Cautionary Tale

              If you read my earlier blog posts you have seen my story about my ultra conservative family. What I did not tell you is that I have become a cautionary tale to my family (like the boogeyman, but I don’t just hide out in closets). By cautionary I mean I am the one they use to scare their children into submission. It seems to work and it only required one nephew staying with me to scare their kids straight. Apparently when he got home he told his mother (my sister) that he didn’t want to be poor and please not to send him to live in the sad place anymore. I am so pleased that my house is now called the sad place.

                Not that I really wanted my nephew to come stay with me. My sister, Janie May, called me to say Peter was in trouble and she did not know what to do next. She said she was sending him to me for a little while.  My response was immediate.

                “The hell you are!” I thought I was being firm since I really do not want a delinquent in my house. I have enough trouble with two surly cats. I don’t need a teen in the mix. I say that because I have worked in a public school and I know what those kids are listening to today. I don’t want some kid with Bieber Fever in my house. Then Janie May played her trump card.

                “You better let Peter in or I will tell mom what you have been doing instead of coming to family meetings.”

                “You wouldn’t.”

                “I would so tell her that you went to a liberal political rally. See what happens then.” She had me. It is a real threat since liberal is a dirty word in our mother’s house. Granted, they all know I am a little (okay, a lot) off but that’s inexcusable in this family.

                Eventually the boy came around to my house. We spent the first night just staring at each other.

                “Mom made me come here.”

                “I know.”

                “Your house is small.”

                “So am I. It works out that way.”

                “Mom said you move around a lot.”

                “That’s true enough.”

                “Mom said you have never had a real relationship.”

                “Also true. Sad, but true.”

                “Mom says you’re just going to feed me spinach, okra and kale.”

                “Your mother is a damned liar!”  

                At this point, my two giant monsters came into the kitchen and began circling Peter.

                “What are those?” He asked as he pointed at them.

                “Those are my cats.”

                “They’re huge.”

                “Yes, they are. Try not to show fear. They live for that.”

                “Why are they staring at me?”

                “You could be their next meal. Try to sleep with one eye open.”

                “Don’t they stay with you at night?”

                “They’re not allowed to sleep in my room at night. I’m not going to die that way. Watch out for when you wake up to their sniffing your eyes. That means you are in trouble.”

                “How long do I have to stay here?”

                “Until I can find a way to get your mom to take you back. The sooner you leave the better. The cats don’t like you but don’t take it too personally. They don’t like anyone.”

                “I’m hungry.”

                “There is ketchup and lettuce in the fridge. That’s all I have right now.”

                He stared at me. I stared at him. The cats stared at him. He continued to stare at me. I shrugged. He took out his cell phone and called his mother.

                “Mom, I am so sorry. I want to come home and promise I will never do anything again. Please…” Two hours later (after he spent 73 minutes hiding from the cats) his mother came to pick him up. Word of this spread and they still talk about me. No one has ever come over since. 

                        

 

                                                                                      Her Majesty, Kim Bookless, made this better

                                            

Bailing me out

 

                This is a recent conversation I had about an upcoming convention. Realistically you could apply this conversation to any part of my life. Once you get to the end you will know how ashamed I should feel. But I don’t. Shame is such a useless emotion.

                “I’m going to need some bail money in November. “ You will not believe how many conversations I start this way.

                After a distinct pause (and a deep sigh) from Byron (let’s call him that since, well, it is his name) he said, “Wait a minute. November is months away. How do you know you’re going to need bail?”

                “Well, there is a convention coming.”

                “Uh-huh. I am going to need more than that. “

                “The con is having several celebrities show up to sign autographs and ____________ (this is where you can put in one of the following names; Jennifer Love Hewitt, Lucy Liu, Holly Marie Combs, Gillian Anderson or Amber Benson. Any of them will do just fine. They are listed in no particular order) is going to be there. “

Amber Benson

 

                “You know you don’t have to do anything.” He says this after I tell him my nefarious plans to meet people at the con (most of which he thinks is going to involve security in one fashion or another).

                “We both know that is not really an option. I don't have a choice. It is going to happen.”

                For some reason, whenever I approach him, Byron starts speaking in a low voice and saying the same thing over and over, “Don’t get arrested. Don’t get arrested.” He seems to feel that subliminal training is the best way to go with me.

                It is not like I want to get arrested. It is just that people do not appreciate certain behaviors or statements that may come out wrong. Like saying “I have been following you for a long time” instead of what you meant “I have been following your career for a long time.”

                Celebrities also don’t like it when you stand there and stare at them mutely. Don’t say a word. Just look at them with your mouth hanging open. That won’t make them uncomfortable in the least. You should try it. Stand there silently, mouth agape. Throw in a few grunts for good measure. They will love you all the more for it. Or, more specifically, they will love when you leave.

                Of course this is a good way to meet new people as you will become very acquainted with con security and if you do this long enough, you will be on a first name basis with them.  Like when you enter the con and they nod in greeting since they know you.

                “Morning, George.”

                “Morning, Al. What’s on the schedule today?”

                “Thought I would head to the celebrity room about 1:30, check out who’s there.”

                George starts writing in his schedule book, “You said 1:30?” I love it when security pencils me in. It means they have my back or, more specifically, my hands behind my back as they drag me away.

                Dragon*Con was the first time I have met celebrities at cons. Well, except for one instance at NYCC last year but I don’t have any photos of that so there is no actual proof anything even happened. At Dragon I was able to meet several celebrities. One was Amber Benson whom I have discussed in my DC recaps.

                The others were cast member from “Farscape” (squeal).  No, I did not get into any trouble at DC. Of course you have to understand that I did not get to the room with Gillian Anderson. That may have changed everything but for the lack of 60 dollars to spend on her, the convention was saved. This time there is photographic evidence (which might actually work against me).

Rebecca Riggs

 

               

 

Virginia Hey

Gigi Edgely

 

 

Here is the phrase every parent longs to hear from a child, “I am in con security lockup again.” The again really adds something.

                Of course, if you go to cons you will find out that the celebrities have handlers. These are people who help the celebrity with anything the celebrity needs over the weekend. I have decided I want to be a professional celebrity handler but only for the ones listed above. This statement, when mentioned to a certain person (see above) causes him to sigh and say in a very loud voice “That is not what they mean by handler. You’re ridiculous!”

                Yes, yes I am.

                And to answer an earlier statement (in case you were wondering) Byron would not bail me out. He would let me rot in there. Probably for the best.

 

                                                                                                Kim Bookless made this better.