Goody’s

I realize I haven’t written a blog post in quite some time. It’s hard to start once you’ve stopped. I spend my days writing about cranes at work, and by the time I come home my words no longer work. Seriously. I find myself asking my wife for words I can’t remember. Like, “hey babe, what’s the word you use when you’re telling a story but it’s not real, and it ends with ‘thetical'”? Hypothetical. That’s the word I was looking for.

But, inspiration found me this morning in the most unusual of places, and so here I am trying to piece together a post. I will admit, my first choice this morning was the television. But, it was somehow inaccessible to me, despite what I believe to be my unique set of electronic qualifications. I’m not sure if this ever happens to anyone else, but I’m completely lost when I’m not at home. If you’re feeling lost, don’t fret. I will explain:

Last night, my cousin called to ask if I would come to Maryland to celebrate her sister’s (also my cousin) recent engagement.

Katie & Liston

Katie & Liston

LB couldn’t come with me because she had to work this morning. So, I made the trip alone to surprise Katie (the sister of my cousin—also my cousin) and spent the night with Sam and Suzi afterwards. Now this might get confusing, because Sam and Katie are both engaged, and Sam’s getting married in 2015, while Katie is getting married in 2016. I have a lot of cousins so this could go on for the rest of the years of my life.

Me, Katie, Sam...

Me, Katie, Sam…

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Suzi, Dan, & Heather

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Liston & me!

I’m quite fond of my family, luckily, so I enjoy celebrating their happiness the way that they have celebrated mine. But, it’s not often that I venture out of Lancaster without my wife, and something dawned on me when I woke up at 7:30 this morning: other people are so weird. I mean, they think that about me too, so it’s not a critical sentiment. It’s just what happens when you get old and married. Other people suddenly become very strange, while you become normal.

I’m a creature of habit. I say that often, and some of you who know me may not believe it. But, it’s true. There are two versions of me, and I don’t mean I have more than one personality. It’s just that I have a tendency to be impulsive and free-thinking. But, if I create a routine for myself and follow it day in and day out, I become…what’s the word when you grow up and go to work and pay bills and do things you’re supposed to do on a regular basis? Responsible. That word just doesn’t feel right in this context so I will just go with “boring”. I’ve become boring. It doesn’t matter what I did the night before or how late I stayed up; I can’t fucking sleep past 7:30 am. I could be hung over and sick with a headache that seems to be radiating all the way to New Mexico…but this internal clock still ticks on.

That’s not usually a problem for me. I wake up; I kiss my sleeping wife (because I know I won’t see her until noon); I take my medication (yes, I am medicated); I let the dogs outside; I feed them breakfast; I give them their medication (yep, they’re medicated too); I make a cup of coffee; and then I watch the news. That’s my morning. That’s just what I do. But, not this morning. I woke up feeling a little rough with that radiating headache. I checked my phone and realized how much I hate my fucking internal clock. I put the pillow over my head and begged God to lull me back to sleep like He does for Lindsey every morning. But, nothing. I thought about all those times I couldn’t sleep at all, and then I felt grateful. I thought about people who don’t have food, and then I felt even more grateful. Then I felt depressed thinking about all of that suffering, and I tip-toed down the stairs to let Sam and Suzi’s dogs outside.

Watching their Jack Russell run out the back door and into the yard kinda made me feel at home.

Crandall

Crandall

So, I picked her up, took her back inside, and looked around the kitchen in case she too was medicated. It turns out, I might be the only person alive who has to medicate four out of five of her pets. Crandall (the dog) is not, that I can see, medicated. If so, she’d have had her medication by now. Since that wasn’t an option, I decided to make that cup of coffee. That’s when Sam yelled down the stairs:

Sam: “Tina, are you OK?”
Me: “Oh yea, totally fine.”
Sam: “Why are you up so early?”
Me: “I’m always up early…it’s totally fine. Go back to sleep.”
Sam: “Ok, I will wake up soon I promise.”
Me: “No stay in bed. I’m not normal. I’m used to spending my mornings alone.”
Sam: “OK, well you can make coffee if you want”

Meanwhile I’m powering up the Keurig K45.

Me: “Yea, I might do that, thanks.”
Sam: “But, check the milk…it’s probably old.”

Black coffee it is! I’m adaptable. No problem. 

Sam: “And, you can turn on the TV, too.”
Me: “Ok, thanks! I’ve got everything under control.”

It turns out that whenever I say that, I actually mean that I have no idea what the fuck is happening. 

I had my black cup of coffee, the dog to cuddle, and I found the TV remote without having to search for it like I usually do at other weird houses that I don’t live in (again, not a critical sentiment). Just when I thought my morning was looking up…I hit the power button on the TV and got that BIG FUCKING STUPID BLUE SCREEN THAT SAYS HDMI2 on it. And I’m like, well, this isn’t cable. So, they must have a lot of cool electronic stuff for me to do until they wake up. I clicked the Input button on the remote and there were like ten HDMI options, that weird AV option that no one actually ever uses, the RGB option that I’ve never actually used, deuces on the component option, and then…finally…hidden under all of those strangely unnecessary Input options…dun dun dun dun! TV! I’m like, OK this has to be the one. Click. BIG FUCKING BLUE SCREEN. Now what? No creamer, no medication for the dogs, and no news? This is turning into a very bad morning.

You know when you’re at someone else’s house and you have no idea where anything is but you’re close enough to that person to look around for what you need anyway? Well, Sam and I have been close since she was born. Like for real. I held her cute little screaming ass when she was born and kissed her chubby cheeks when she was toddler. We even lived together on multiple occasions and played in several bands together, which did require us to travel in tight quarters. We’re pretty fucking close. But, she’s practically married, and it’s Suzi’s house too…and I’m walking that fine line between Sam won’t mind but it just doesn’t feel right that I’m searching through everything to find the remote for this TV. While I was searching, Crandall saw her out, and she took off up the stairs to climb into bed with her mommies. I whispered her name quietly, but Sam heard me, and I woke them both up. Then, they went back to sleep, and I decided that I would figure this out without waking them again.

Down one dog, but determined to hold on to my morning routine as best as possible, I went on the search again. But, every time I found something that looked remotely electronic, it was like it came from an alien nation. Like, WHAT IN THE FUCK IS THIS THING????

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I turned on this strange mini-TV thing with nobs and realized it was some new weird gaming device. But, I also noticed the Netflix icon on the screen and thought…BINGO. This is it. I can at least watch Netflix. I tapped the Netflix icon and chose a user (the one I assumed to be Sam). But, she had that shit on fucking parental-control lock down, which is INCREDIBLE because they don’t have any fucking children. Now, as I said before, I’ve known Sam since she was born, and I’d like to think I have the mental capacity to guess her password. I tried EVERYTHING. Mom-mom’s birthday, her last name, Suzi’s birthday, Sam’s birthday, my own fucking birthday for God sakes. But, I couldn’t crack the code. So, I turned the alien-electronic device off and began searching for other devices that might prove entertaining.

That's a regular wii remote, right?

That’s a regular wii remote, right?

That didn’t get me any closer to watching television, so the search continued….and then I found it. THE FUCKING CABLE REMOTE.

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I picked it up and turned it around a few times in my hand. Then, I realized that it’s actually just a phone. I haven’t seen one of these things since like 1999. They have a landline phone but no cable remote? I was losing the battle.

I went back to the big TV remote with nobs and tried AGAIN to turn it on. Then, I changed the TV input to some other HDMI number (like 5), and the image on the remote showed up right there on the TV! I flicked through all the users: Sam, Suzi…and then I found this random bitch:

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Now, I’m not one to judge other people’s relationships, but there are three women on the big TV remote nob thing. And, I don’t recognize this lady at all. Sometimes, I suppose, it’s best not to get involved in other people’s affairs. Lol.

At that point, I was totally defeated, so I walked my ass right up the stairs with bricks for feet and flung their bedroom door open.

Me: “Guys, I’m sorry but you have all of these weird devices, and I can’t figure out any of this stuff.”
Sam: (Eyes like little slits and raspy as shit) “Tina…what stuff?”
Me: “The cable, the big remote TV with little nobs…the weird phone.”
Sam: “We don’t have cable Tina. And, that big remote is called a Wii U.”
Me: (Feeling old as fuck) “Well, how do I make it work?”
Sam: “Turn it on.”
Me: “Right, but you have a parental control password for God knows what reason, and despite my efforts, I can’t figure it out.”
Sam: “Tina, it’s Poopsmith.”

Seriously? Poopsmith. Apparently Sam & Suzi are totally meant to be together because Suzi was quick to chime in with her password for the remote, which is Poop-ulus. Best part is, they were afraid to reveal their passwords to one another. But, once they did, Sam proposed.

There’s really no good way to end this blog, except to say that other people’s houses are fucking weird! And, on a side note, Suzi woke up and gave me headache medication that she referred to as “goody’s”. It came in a long, thin, white piece of tissue-y like paper that looked like rolling paper. Then, she ran back upstairs with no explanation to go to bed. I unrolled the paper, and found a line of white powder inside. I wondered what my cousins were into these days. I didn’t know that cocaine rolled up in a joint would cure my headache, but I figured, what the hell, I’ll give it a shot. I poured it into my cold black coffee and took a giant swig. I totally expected it to taste like that time I chewed up pain medication to make it work faster…but to my surprise it had no taste at all. I’m still not sure exactly what they gave me, but my headache was gone in seconds. If anyone knows where I can purchase this miracle medication, please let me know as soon as possible.

2 thoughts on “Goody’s

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