The Preacher and the Tired Waitress

A friend recently visited me from the west coast, and as I was meeting her boyfriend for the first time, she divulged to him that her long time friend (me) has a twisted and bitterly sarcastic humor she adores.  At least in my narcissistic universe that's how I think she feels about me.  She recants this story, which quite honestly I had forgotten, about a time when I expressed my well known quick nasty wit and thrust its sleep deprivation induced venom upon an innocent preacher one morning.  Luckily the guy had a GREAT sense of humor, and we both had a good laugh at the end of it.  I guarantee it was the most interesting door to door experience he had that morning.

Once upon a time I was a waitress.  This one night I stayed way past my grumpy time working, then didn't get home until the wee hours of the morning.  In that type of working situation, you're not an early riser.  Let's just say that awakening a hibernating Kodiak bear would have been more pleasant than waking me from my slumber given the circumstances.  Groggy eyed Abbie hears a "Knock, Knock", at the door at 7:30 AM.  I ask myself, Who the h*** is knocking at my door at this ungodly hour?  Opening the door, I see this lovely man dressed in spiritual garb and offering a welcome to his new church down the road.  Nice man, seems sweet.  Too bad he knocked on my door, poor guy doesn't know what verbal poo is about to hit him in the jugular.  Understand that I have nothing against spirituality, people of god, or those who want to work as their messengers.  I just like sleep.  A lot.

Preacher: "Hi, I'm (blah blah blah) and I'm looking for people who are interested in joining my church down the road.  We just opened our doors, and I'm hoping we can interest you in stopping by to see our service.  (I'm nodding, and not really paying attention.)  Let me ask you a question, If you were to walk out your door today, and get hit by a bus, do you think you would go to heaven or to hell?"

Now, I'm one for a good spiritual debate just as anyone else, but on 3 hours of sleep there is no way MY brain is able to function on any level of social appropriateness.  I'm not even able to do that on a full nights sleep... on a good day... when the sun is shining... and even if  I had all those teleprompters in front of me telling me the right things to say like the President.  This being said from a descendant of catholic nuns no less.  I think I mentioned before I have issues... but, I digress... onward with the true story.

Abbie: "Oh, Pssht!  That's an easy question... (his associate scoffs and replies under his breath, 'Easy?') HEAVEN.  I'm definitely going to Heaven. 

Preacher: "Well! (LAUGHING) You certainly seem convinced of this answer, are you sure?  If you stand firm with your reply, why, may I ask, do you feel so strongly about that?"

Abbie: "Well, you see preacher, I've already BEEN to Hell.  So if I *DON'T* go to Heaven, there IS no God."  *Insert-Cheshire-Cat grin-and-sleepy-rub-of-eyes*

At this point he breaks out into laughter, and so does his assistant.  They both agreed that was the best answer they had heard in their entire career of soliciting followers.  We shook hands and he gave me a literature packet so that I could decide later if I wanted to follow his church to make him smile more.  I thought since I subjected him enough to my torture, I would let him go on his way, making others wonder about their own mortality and how quickly their life would end by being hit with a bus at 7:30 AM. 

True story.

This Holiday it's Avoidance I'll Bring

Holidays can just absolutely suck. 

I've personally never been a fan of them.  Except, of course, for the ones that are very easy - like Halloween.  Halloween is easy-peasy.  On Halloween, I make my living scaring the crap out of people and just basically acting the way I want to act the other 364 days of the year. 

That's besides the point, I'm digressing, let's get back to the holidays sucking...

Having just finished the latest round of holiday fantastical "magic" with  Thanksgiving, I thought I would humbly appease all of the cynics, sarcastic people, shut-ins, socially challenged and even the not so socially challenged with a little acrimonious pick me up (given what we all endure over the holidays, this is an especially nice gesture from me.  Eh-em, you're welcome.).  Especially since the *magical* "Christmas" experience and the *awesome* New Years holiday are right up on our butts too.

Here's a little ditty I just conjured up.  I hope it brings as much bitter snarky laughter to you as it did to me.  Yes, I have serious problems.


This Holiday it's Avoidance I'll Bring
(Sung to the tune of "My Favorite Things", Sound of Music Soundtrack)


Stuffed roasted turkey and rosemary potatoes
Hot as hell family rooms packed with crazy kiddos
Incorrectly spelled name tags adorned with festive bling
This holiday season it's avoidance I'll bring

Sparkly silver ornaments and sweet cranberry ale
Barely known relatives who's attitudes just friggin' fail
Turtle doves adorning much needed cocktail things
This holiday season it's avoidance I'll bring

Men dressed in their best and Gals matching with flair
If I don't get the hell out of here soon, I'll pass out on the stair
Nightmare Autumn gatherings that roll into Winter shindigs
This holiday season it's avoidance I'll bring

When the patience snaps
When the insults fling
When I'm feeling hopeless
I simply remember my emotional avoidance
And then I don't feel so bad

- A warm and fuzzy holiday song, by Abbie Nourmel

Bonjour maggots, we meet again

Engarde! Monsieur Maggot!  We meet again... and this time there is no mercy my friend.  Yes, sadly (AGAIN) I am dealing with maggots within my lifetime.  Once more than I would have liked to of course.  The problem lies within a party host, who is not very good with details, and forgot to line the trash bins with liners.  "So what?", you say?  Sure... probably not a big deal if you are disposing of plastic, or random beer cups.  Unfortunately, our waste was the result of a Hawaiian pig roast, and the remnants of said swine and a plethora of accouterments into the garbage can (all unlined).   Corn, beans, pork, seasoned ribs, potato salad, salad, etc.

As soon as I was approached during the party, by a few guests, what were they to do with said garbage items, I looked to the host(s).  One, who was more than a rock star, suggested one of the items on the co-host's list was the garbage and he had nothing to do with it - fair enough.  It just happens to be that the co-host responsible for garbage is also family to me... and I know what their follow through is on minutia, and especially garbage detail.  *Sigh*.  After multiple neighbors convince me otherwise (what were THEY thinking???), I decided to reject the idea of immediately taking the pig and resulting garbage out of the bins in my full Hawaiian dress at 11:30 at night.  This, I fear, was a huge mistake.  Not the drinking too late into the evening, nor the tomfoolery (or cacophonous noise I was making or other things not worth mentioning), just the garbage was the most evident mistake. 

I warned, nudged, pleaded, nagged "please, please, please take the garbage out and put it into separate bags, don't leave it un-bagged in the bin!"... nothing budged said partner to change the scenario outside - even after several days post party.  His reasoning?  "It takes a week before maggots show up.  It will be fine."  My response?, "Fine.  When the maggots show up - you're dealing with it, not me."  He agreed.  Finally, two days after, he moved AT LEAST the swine into a bag.  But, alas, nothing else... so basically it did nothing for the result I was looking for (no maggots).  I come out three days post party (fully knowing what to expect) and of course, as predicted - full on maggot infestation.  Laid bins out for trash pick up, felt like an a**hole towards the Garbage men, and waited.  Please GOD, take these bins. 

So, back to today... I come out to see if the bleach I poured onto the bins last night worked in terms of the infestation reducing.  Nope.  There is this little pile of maggot worms laying at the base of each bin.  OMG, I want to projectile vomit out my eyes.  At LEAST 100 lying there, and more squirming out the sides.  This is like a Wes Craven Horror movie.  BARF.  I am PRAYING that the men take these bins.  Especially since I had gone out last night in a fit of despair, and doused the bins with bleach - no dice.  The little worms of horror are invincible.  It's unbelievable.  Eight O'clock comes around... They took it - phew.  I had been watching feverishly through the window the whole time the men took the bins.  Images of holding back barf were flowing through my mind.  I couldn't BARE the thought of what it would be like taking care of this myself if they refused it, carrying those bins in the back of my perfect Tahoe.  Then the HORRID realization comes to me.  Husband: Just. Can't. Deal. With. The. Aftermath. Of. Cleanup.  F*&$.  OK, I get that he has a shiza load of responsibility on him right now, so do I, but what happened to the "man's work"?  I'm now doing both the man's work and the woman's work?!?!?!?  GRRRRR...

That's it.  It's four days post party, and I've had it with patience.  Someone needs to do this, and I guess it's going to be me.  I pull out every frigging bin and container I have of Vinegar and environmentally biodegradable bleach (this type of bleach breaks down to salt water - like the kind you use to clean your deck), and I SOAK the suckers.  I have full on plastic gloves and am spraying the wet, maggot infested garbage down, and just dousing the disgusting awfulness that this is.  Then I have to pick up the wet maggot garbage and reload it into new garbage bags.  VOMIT fest.  For a sensory sensitive person like me - especially olfactory like mine - this is the worst job you could possible hold in the world.  Never-the-less, it has to be done, by someone, and STAT.  Neighbors are walking by, moms are instructing their kids not to breathe, people are walking to the other side of the street - its bad.  But after one solid hour of this hell - we're back BABY!  Clean bins, smelling like Lysol bleach and vinegar fresh, at least for the time being.  I think I may have to re-bleach the bins... and there were a few extra "worms" hanging around I didn't catch from my relentless hour long power spray from the hose throughout the colonoscopy of the garbage bins I performed... but WTF?  I sprayed until the potential thunderstorm lightening bolts above my house were right above my garage.  I did my part, and THEN SOME.  Hubby asks if I took care of it when I walked in...  Is it wrong to want to slap him in the face?  :-/

No words, my friends, no words, just a nice strong martini and maggot free garbage cans at the side of my house.  Also, VERY happy crows (and neighbors)... side note: I kind of like crows more now?