The Unhappiest Place on Earth

When I was 5 or 6 my parents decided to take my brother and I to Disney World. You know, that one place that's also known as the happiest place on earth? That one GIANT amusement park that Walt Disney created so that when people went to it they would feel as if they were in some magical wonderland. That one place that just about every kid on the planet dreams of going. That one place where I was the grumpiest kid. Yeah, you read that right I went to Disney World and I was GRUMPY.

I have no idea why I was so grumpy. To be honest, I didn't realize just how grumpy I was until my brother and I were reminiscing and looking through the "Disney World Rosie Hates Everything" photo album. Fun fact, I was grumpy though out most of my childhood. We have albums upon albums where just about every other picture is me frowning, rolling my eyes or glaring into the camera.

I like to think that maybe I was just an old soul trapped in a 6 year old body. Instead of screaming and rejoicing with my fellow Disney loving age group, I was too busy wishing they would quiet down, wishing the lines for the rides were shorter and that I could get out of the hot sun. While all the happy children were busy bombarding all the Disney characters for pictures and autographs, I was standing to the side, glaring at everyone one of those drooling idiots.

Ah, the most magical place on Earth.....

Nope.

Effing Pluto

Even ice cream couldn't make me happy

Fuck you tea cups

Dumb ass Dumbo ride....

Even surrounded by Disney Princesses, I was still mega ass grumpy

Fuck you Disney World and you're NOT happy happiness crap

 

See, you guys thought I was making this shit up. Also, my brother had this weird thing about kissing the noses of the Disney characters with the plastic faces. So, all of them. We went back a few years later and I tried to make up for all the grumpiness. "OH MY GOD IS THAT GRUMPY THE DWARF?" (oh, the irony) But I was still reminded of that trip where I hated everything. 

The "Waitress" and the Monkey

Back in my early 20's (since I'm slowly creeping up on being considered in my late 20's) I got my first real adult job. I gave my lame, part-time mall job the two middle fingers and bounced out that bitch and moved on to a full-time, now you can go to the doctor because you can afford health insurance, teller at a bank job. Like any job, it had it's ups and downs, co-workers that made me really debate about bringing a booze filled flask to work, co-workers that turned into life long friends and then there were the customers. Most were just the run of the mill, here's my check now give me cash type customers. Others would argue with you over a transaction that was a penny over what they wrote down in their check register.

You never fully comprehend just how disgusting money is until you have a "waitress" bring in $500 in singles to deposit. And by waitress I mean stripper. I'm not saying everyone that came in that stated they were a waitress was actually a stripper. But this lady of the night...

What? I like pie!

Pretty sure some of those were in her lady business.

I also like cake.

Yeah, I'm not touching that shit.

She brought her own stripper pole...

I brought my own Hazmat suit.

Another memorable customer was this one lady and her purse. The transaction started out like any normal transaction. She wanted to cash a check or withdraw money or do something that my brain doesn't really remember. But that's mostly because, even after all these years, it's still really shocked about what was in her friggin purse.

See, everything is all normal, nothing funny going on here. Just looking at pictures of dragons on my computer while she fills out whatever the fuck she has to fill out. And then it happened. Her purse moved. And I don't mean like it shook a little or maybe a bottle of water shifted, I mean the damn thing shook like there was a living creature inside.

Those aren't stinky lines, I was trying to emphasize just how much this purse moved on it's own.

Naturally, I just assumed it was a little puppy or one of those tiny dog breeds that live in lady's purses.

After a few totally logically explanations as to why her purse would move on it's own, I went back to counting money. And then it shook all over again.

And she just went about her business like nothing was happening. Meanwhile, in my head I was screaming, "BITCH, WHAT THE HELL IS IN YOUR PURSE?"

Then this happened.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!? IT'S A HAND! IT'S A TINY BROWN HAND! WHAT THE FUCK!!!

IT'S A GOD DAMN MONKEY!

Guys, I'm not making this shit up. A friggin' monkey popped out of her purse! And then she asked if we had any dog treats to give the monkey.

Best Friends Forever!

Don't cry for me Argentina. The truth is, I never left you. I just got busy with work and volunteer stuff and crying about needing sleep. You know, the usually stuff. Anywho, I'm finally starting to get out of that horrible writers block funk!

 

So, I present to you, Best Friends Forever. 

A few weekends ago I went to lunch with a friend of mine that we'll refer to as "Scotty." Now, "Scotty" and I have been BFF's since high school (that's nearly 10 years ago...ugh. I don't wanna be old) and although we may not chat every single day, when we do manage to find time to hang out (since someone finally moved closer after having to move several states away to go to fancy lawyer school) it's like zero time has passed. Getting all the mushy feelings stuff out of the way, I figured I would share the story of the first day we met. It was my senior year (her junior) of high school and I was sitting in my drama class chatting with some friends when we all noticed this pale girl with bright red hair in the doorway. As we heard whispers between her step-dad and the teacher, we found out that she was from Scotland and this was her first day. The following pictures are a pretty accurate recreation of that day. 

We did quietly and awkwardly stare at her as she walked to the empty table in the back of the room.

And we kept staring.

Even when she finally noticed us staring, we didn't stop. 

 After a few minutes of quietly staring back at each other, the group turned back around and went about their daily business. I, with my feelings, felt bad that "Scotty" was all alone at her table so I took a seat across from her and introduced myself. That exchange went a little like this:

I had black hair and short bangs back in the day..DON'T JUDGE MY HAIR CHOICES!

At this point, I was just calmly telling her my name and ah mah gad welcome to America and stuff! How long have you lived in the land of freedom, deep fried food and the Backstreet Boys? Which would explain why I got this reaction:

There was surprise...which quickly turned into a glare

"Scotty" claims she glared at me because she was all nervous and crap about not only being in a new school with zero friends but in a totally new country as well. Plus, we had just spent about 20 minutes staring at her. I just thought she was being a bitch. Then I realized the reason she was looking at me like I was crazy was probably because while I was politely and not crazily introducing myself, she saw this: 

I tried to draw a unicorn but it just looked like an obese pony ...

See! I told you she glared at me!

This is the part where I was just confused because damnit, I was so frigging nice and crap and she was just sitting over there, glaring at my niceness. She eventually warmed up to everyone and now I proudly call "Scotty" mah BFF with the funny accent!

We're totes high fiving.

Staring 2.0

Since I have a case of the Oh My God I Fucking Hate Writers Block, I decided to skim through the old blog here and pick one of the stories and add some doodles to it. Why not start with the very first story on the blog? As you may recall, that story was about one of my assignments for one of the education classes I had to take. I was to sit in a 4th grade classroom and observe, make notes, check email, play fruit ninja, and just watch the dynamics between the teacher and her students.

I was so good at observing that I was able to multitask with my phone and games

They weren't really THAT rowdy...

During one of my observation days, the teacher had to make a quick trip to the office and asked if I would keep an eye on the kids. They were working on a few assignments and even though she would only be gone at most 15 minutes, they shouldn't be any trouble. A few minutes after she left I started getting that creepy feeling that I was being watched and when I put my cell phone this happened:

And then he acted like nothing ever happened. He even turned and waved good-bye with his booger hand when I left for the day.

Writers Block