My Stupid Mouth

My doorman, Umar, is the nicest guy. He's a little older than me, from Nigeria, and always has the hugest smile on his face. He's the only one of our guards that I ever talk to.

"Hi, Malanie," he says, as I walk in the door on Saturday afternoon.
"Hey, Umar," I say, "what's up?"
"Nothing. Nice day," he says.
"Yeah," I say.

I approach his desk and notice that he's reading a thick, hard-covered, dark blue book that's missing its jacket.

"Hey Umar, what are you reading? The dictionary?" I ask, then laugh aloud at my own joke.

Omar looks perplexed. "Ackshilly, Malanie, yes. Yes I am. I read it so I can read the English newspaper," Umar says matter-of-factly, as he lifts up his dictionary to point out what's spread open beneath it: the newspaper.

Aggggh! Shit, I am such an asshole!, I shout inside my own head.

"Oh really?" I ask, attempting to save myself from yet another unfiltered remark, "I was just kidding, I didn't really think you'd be reading the dictionary!"

"Heh. Heh. Heh." A nervous giggle escapes my mouth. Umar joins in, and grins widely. I take that as a sign that he doesn't hate me. Phew!

"Have a good one," I say, as I walk away and head for the elevators.

I look at the ground, and shake my head back and forth. My stupid mouth almost gets me in trouble once again.

"Oprah's sampled every biscuit in Boston."

Sometimes I forget to breathe. No joke. Like I'll be concentrating so hard on something that I don't realize I'd been holding my breath the entire time.

Sometimes I talk aloud and don't realize it. I know, hard to believe for a sane girl like me. When I realize I have been talking out loud, I just pretend I'd been singing to myself, and people usually buy it. What? That's not weird.

Sometimes I wake up with the strangest thoughts in my head. Monday's thought? "Oprah's sampled every biscuit in Boston." Really, Mel??? Really?!?! Where did that even come from?

Sometimes I pretend that walking around NYC during rush hour is an obstacle course, and I find myself dashing and darting around people. Then I realize that I am a total shmuck and I need to calm the fuck down.

Sometimes, in real life, I pretend I am in one of my improv classes. This tends to piss people off. I was having an argument with my sister the other night, about nothing just because I was enjoying the banter. Then I realized that she was getting really pissed off (and spoiling my fun).

Sometimes I think about random things, try to remember to tell people about them, and then never do. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is... thanks for humoring me as I make my poor and subtle attempts to humor you.

Until next time, kids.

I Do Not Wish I Could Quit You

Are these things random? Or is the universe trying to tell me something?



Because I really do have a sweet spot in my heart for Italy - the language, the culture, the food... is this the universe's way of telling me that it's time to let go? But I can't!! I love Italy!

Or is this mere coincidence? I can't seem to figure it out!

WTF?!

'I Love Jesus' Meets 'Young Mother'

It's approximately 7:37am. You're seated near the back of an eastbound M96 bus. An older woman is standing next to you. You don't make eye contact with her, but you notice that she is carrying a very large tote bag. The bag keeps digging into you but you keep your mouth shut. It's only a 5 minute ride, only a 5 minute ride..., you think to yourself.

You look up at the woman and begin to study her. You notice her mismatched clothing, nappy hair, and orange baseball cap. It reads: "I Love Jesus"

Hah, you think to yourself, she seems like quite the character. (Little did you know that would be some improvisational foreshadowing.)

You notice that the volume on your iPod seems to be a little low, and that there's some background noise that's beginning to be a nuisance. As you reach for the volume control on your iPod, you notice "I Love Jesus" lady brawling with another passenger. Like most New Yorkers, you mute your iPod and pretend to still be listening.

"You're squashing my child!", the Young Mother exclaims.

"No I ain't!", shouts "I Love Jesus".

"Yes you are!! You got pushed, but then you pushed directly onto my child! Why would you do that! You squashed my child!", yells the young mother.

"No I didn't. You stupid!", shouts "I Love Jesus". The whole bus is listening at this point.

"Excuse me, you squashed my child," the Young Mother says cooly.

"You stupid. You stupid. YOU STUPID. You stupid, you know 'dat? You stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!!!!!", shouts the crazy "I Love Jesus" lady.

At this point, the Young Mother tells her daughter to stand up and move a few rows ahead, far away from "I Love Jesus". Young Mother looks back at "I Love Jesus".

She is fired up.

"You stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!!!!!", shouts "I Love Jesus".

Finally, the bus stops and the doors open. "I Love Jesus" exits, all the while muttering to herself, "You stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!"

Your opinion on the whole scenario?

Poor Jesus. He's being so poorly represented by this crazy old bat. He probably wishes that she'd never purchased that silly hat. It's so not his style anyway.

Salmon, you disgust me.

Dear Salmon,

Hey there, pal. How are ya?

Not too good I hear. I'm doing well though, but I'll save that for another time. I wanted to bring up something very important, and I hope you're willing to hear me out. Remember how we used to be really good friends and hang out all the time? Well, this has caused me to question my loyalty. And quite frankly, I'm not sorry. My own well-being could be at risk, and it would be all your fault!

Please explain to me how some dude in Chicago ate one of you and got a 9-foot long tapeworm. That is just plain guh-ross. Can't you keep it together, Salmon? I'd hate to stop ordering the raw version of you every time I go for sushi. Seriously, my selection will become extremely limited. You're one of the few raw fish I enjoy, so please stay clean.

Also, they say that tapeworm resonates in your muscles, so maybe if you worked out a little more they wouldn't be able to burrow deep inside? They also say that tapeworm comes from dog shit, but I don't even want to go there with you right now.

Please get your act together, Salmon, or else I don't think we can be friends anymore.

I hope you understand.

Regards,
Mel

Haiku Monday: Elation

This is the place where I passive-aggressively talk about stuff that bothers me. And there's a lot of little things that peeve me. The list is endless. So, hooray, it's Haiku Monday!

thank goodness for malfunctioning workstations // there's cause for celebration // today i barely notice your mastication, AMEN

Fantasy Friday

Cue dream sequence.

It's near sunset. I'm sitting on a purple and white striped beach chair, 20 feet from the shoreline of Waikiki Beach. The beach is deserted. I'm staring out at the water, sipping on a really strong cocktail that barely tastes like it contains any alcohol. I dig my toes into the sand, until the cold, damp particles envelope both my feet. In the distance I see a figure walking towards me. I can't really tell who it is. He looks strangely familiar, wearing a fedora-type hat, sunglasses, a brown t-shirt, and plaid shorts; he's carrying a brown messenger bag and a green beach chair. When he gets about 30 feet from my chair, I gasp. It's Jason Mraz!

"H..hi," I stammer tipsily.

He comes closer and extends his hand.

"I'm Jason," he says softly.

We shake hands.

"Mel, my name is Melanie. Well, Mel. Or whatever you want." I nervously giggle.

"Cool," he says. "Okay if I set up my beach chair right here, Mel?" he points to the space right next to mine.

"Sure!!!! I mean suuuurrreeee," I say.

He sets down his messenger bag, unfolds his chair, and casually sits down. He removes his fedora and places it on top of his messenger bag. He turns towards me, removes his sunglasses, and says, "So whatcha drinking?"

"Oh, it's nothing," I say. "Just 'Sex on the Beach'."

You idiot, Melanie!! That's awkward!! Why would you say that!! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

But Jason just looks over at me and says, "That's cool. My favorite drink is actually 'Sex on the Beach' with you."

I spit out my mouthful of 'Sex' in a hose-like spray.

"W..what did you just say?" I stammer.

"You heard me," Jason says.

And he grabs my hand and...

SNORE!

THEN I WAKE UP.

Oh, shit!!!!! I just dozed off at my desk again. Damn it, Melanie! Damn it! I hope no one noticed.

I look around just to make sure and luck for me everyone seems to be immersed in their work. Close one. Phew!

That's what I get for sleeping on the job. TGIF.