Mamma Mia, I Screwed It Up Again.

How many times in your lifetime do you think someone could plan a really awesome and fun evening involving dinner and Mamma Mia with you, and then ditch you at the last minute?  I might hold the record for doing that to the same person twice within a couple years.  And I’m kind of thinking that I’ll just keep doing it now, because it’s become our little personal tradition.  We get all excited, we talk about where we’re going to dinner, we plan where to meet…and then a few days (or 24 hours) before, I text and say I can’t go.  When we’re 80, and there is no more touring cast of Mamma Mia, I will make one up just so that I can ditch my friend at the last minute, keeping my record of abandoning the same person for a night of Mamma Mia 57 times in one lifetime.  Either that, or some day (probably not when we’re 80, more like 50 or 60) I’ll hire the entire cast of Mamma Mia to go to my friends house where they will make us dinner while singing Abba songs to us.  I can be a jerk, or I can be the coolest friend ever, just 30+ years in the making.

I don’t know if the friend I am referring to wants to be called out by name in a post, so I will say this – she is responsible for the “I’m holding my butt, did you want me to hold yours?” quote on my quotes page.  She is also responsible for telling me that she made cheesecake stuffed strawberries and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that since.

Sometimes I lie awake at night thinking happy thoughts about my cat, dogs, bunnies, MooseMoose, Hogwarts, flying and talking to animals and these lovely thoughts get interrupted by the sudden memory of reading Stranger in a Strange Land.  Then I get really angry, and then I get angry that I’ve become angry, so I get spazzy and twitchy and start kicking my legs.  Then that makes me think of the movie Shame, which makes me beside myself with fury.  So I go from happy thoughts of living at Hogwarts to rage induced thoughts of Robert Heinlein and a naked Michael Fasbender.  These thoughts are then responsible for the inevitable horrible dreams or nightmares that I end up having, like the one where my kidneys fail and I am living in an experimental colony on the moon, and the gravity isn’t right, so dialysis doesn’t work.

The people who post “That moment when…” have not stopped posting it on Facebook, so I can only assume that they read my blog and really want to make me cranky.  Or possibly that the world does not revolve around me, they don’t read my blog, and they don’t care if what they post on Facebook makes me cranky or not.  I’m inclined to believe the world DOES revolve around me, though, so I’m guessing these “That moment when…” posts are on purpose.

I have a very hard time accepting the concept that when I leave a room, life goes on without me for whoever I just left.  I understand the concept intellectually, but in practice, when I leave, everything stops for other people until I get back.  I have a profound inability to grasp the concept that other people have things that they do, and they do different things than I do, and they even do the same things but in a different way.  I don’t necessarily think my way is right, but it’s the way I do things, and so it’s very hard to imagine that someone else does it differently.  And yet, I can picture an animal crossing the street in front of a car and their last moments of life as if it were my own last moments.  I spent most of yesterday and today very upset because there was a baby raccoon in my friend’s yard and he was shaking and he was probably an orphan baby raccoon and didn’t know what to do and didn’t know you aren’t supposed to go up to humans because humans can be jerks (not my friend, just humans in general) and he had to tough it out on his own and this is the picture my friend took of him, tell me it doesn’t break your freaking heart.  Wait until you read the end of the story.

There he is, hugging a box in the recycling container, because he doesn’t have parents.  Then when my friend saw him again he was squished on the street.  This made me cry a lot.  I don’t remember how it is related to me thinking people freeze in place when I leave and only return to life when I come back….wait, I do know.  Because I can visualize the last moments of an animal and it upsets me, and that’s what I’ve been doing with this baby raccoon and it is upsetting me.

Another rule for Dartopia – no roadkill allowed.  Humans can’t kill animals, even to eat.  Sure, I can put away an entire rotisserie chicken like it’s nobody’s business, but I will do without gnawing on an entire chicken and force people to figure out how to make something EXACTLY like a chicken, but not out of an actual chicken.  I’m sure they can do that now, forget MorningStar and Bocca Burgers.  There is fake chicken out there somewhere that is exactly like a real chicken and they are holding back on us.  Once I’m dictator, they’ll have to start mass producing these fake chickens because if they don’t, they will go to an island where they will live with millions of chickens but they are only allowed to eat salad.  And the chickens will be allowed to peck them whenever they want. Whenever the chickens want, that is – not whenever the People Withholding the Delicious Fake Chickens want.

I think I need to take down the Books!  Movies!  TV!  forum and put up the rules for Dartopia so people can commit them to memory so that when I take over, it will be a much easier transition.

Speaking of islands, David Copperfield owns his own island.  You can rent it for just a bit less than $40,000 a day.  I am not ashamed to say, I would totally do that.

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