Liz celebrates:
I'm declaring it "It Sucks To Be You" week next week. I have decided that I have a really great life and that being happy is worth holding over other people's heads. In its origin, long before my time, the idea of out-joying others started out pure, but then it was stolen and distorted by the incredibly perky. They ruin everything.
My mind is racing, thinking of all the ways my joy can sap the life out of those around me. You'd be surprised at how difficult this planning is. I'm feeding on the principles of the dark side, but I have to make certain that I'm not doing anything evil. I'm trying to be both the Yen and the Yang simultaneously. A Yeng.
Thank God I'm up for the challenge.
I believe there are more creative ways for me to make you feel awful about your own life than to use phrases like, "Happy Monday!" and "I'm doing great, but it's getting better." Only people who aren't really happy use cliches like that. I haven't quite finalized my plan for making you feel worse about your life than you already do, but I can guarantee that I'm working on something and it's pretty damn clever.
This inspiration for being a happy vacuum came from a recent visit to the Chancery Clerk's Office. I'm trying to get a passport for a possible vacation to Italy this summer (you're already feeling your happiness level fade, aren't you?). Obtaining a passport is a major pain in the ass. But that's ok. If I'm going to Italy, I can do a little leg work pre-trip. But when I walked into the Chancery Clerk's Office, it was like an invisible force field of loathing enveloped the room. The people working there are bitter cunts. All the pleasure I felt about my ultimate purpose was sapped out of me the moment I pushed open the glass doors. The room is depressing and the people are lethargic. They all have the same wrinkle lines, too; those lines that come from years of scowling. I ascertained immediately that the gates to hell were behind the file cabinet, but the imposing "DO NOT ENTER- THIS MEANS YOU" sign prevented me from being able to verify my suspicions.
I figure if you can be such a despicable human being that you steal the joy of others for a living, I can shove in your face that it sucks to be you. I'm just doing you a favor. I want to take what happiness you have left in your crusty heart and take it. Your transition to a soulless asshole can finally be completed.
You're welcome.
You are all invited to celebrate "It Sucks To Be You" week in your own way. My way will involve smoking to the point where I'm convinced I've given myself cancer and inventing a new cocktail. This cocktail will reflect the personality of its creator. I want a concoction that glows like it's radioactive and combines both sweet and bitter. It should bubble and smoke like a witch's brew and be adored by some and despised by others. This drink is going to have its own opinion. Love me, drink me in and become intoxicated. Hate me and settle for your store-shelf mixer. You decide. No pressure.
Oh. And I'll be making county employees cry.
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11 comments:
My husband had no problem getting his passport when we went to London. I had some problems that were no big deal since I had like six months to fix it. Otherwise I would have been really ticked.
So there's this guy at the post office who takes your stuff so that you can get a passport. Unfortunately, he's not the one who actually gives you a passport, or he could fix all of your problems sooner, or at least tell you that you have a problem that needs fixing sooner. No, some jerk in Houston or Austin does that, and you can't call him or see him or wave something in his face and go "See??? I already did that."
So a long time ago in a place two or three hours drive from here, I was born. My parents were given this big suitable for framing birth certificate thing, only it's not the official birth certificate. The official thing is about the size of a business card with an official stamp on it. To be on the safe side, my mom always took both pieces of paper with her whenever she needed my birth certificate for school or something. So that's what I did, I took both pieces of paper to the post office with two identical photos of me and a check for a hundred dollars or whatever it was.
My husband did not have the large suitable for framing uniofficial birth certificate or the little stamped card or any kind of birth certificate, but we lived about ten miles from where he was born and a short drive to some government office got a computer print-out that didn't look near as impressive as what I had.
So the guy at the post office takes my husband's stuff and tells him it will be several weeks before he gets his passport. He looks at my stuff and almost tells me he it doesn't count, but then he sees the little stamped card and says he hasn't seen one of those in a while but that will work and he takes my stuff and my check and we say thank you and go to lunch.
Several weeks later my husband gets his passport and I get all my stuff back and a note saying try again. So I start to panic cause I don't want to spend all day driving to the place two or three hours away trying to find out where to get my birth certificate. So we go back to the place where my husband got his computer print-out, and they ask if I was born in Texas and I said yes and then they give me a slightly different computer print-out and tell me to have a nice day. About a month later I had a passport.
I did not go to Italy, but I think Dmarks went a few times.
I wouldn't know where to begin with getting a passport.. I haven't had one since I was 3 yrs old.. I doubt you will be able to suck the joy out of me.. but you can sure give it the good old college try.. Sounds like a fun week.. I would love to make people cry.. or least think about how much their life sucks.... I know of someone that lives close by that I could suck the joy out of.. not that she has much left.. but I figure drain what is left... what the hell.. it's a week for joy sucking..
I never had any troubles with the passport people, but the secretary of state people must be related to the passport people. Maybe their offices are linked in some star trek type of way. They have improved somewhat, but going there is always a crapshoot. I'm headed there to renew my license. Maybe then I'll have something to post relating to "my life sucks,"
i always thought it was "yin" and "yang"
thought "yen" was money
tgif coz i am all about confused!
I've been to Italy, Chad got his passport stolen there, but you know all this.
If we are going to have a whole week dedicated to sucking the joy out of people, this would be a good time to inform you I renamed my penis Joy.
I BOYCOTT "It Sucks To Be You" Week - Next week on the grounds that next week is my birthday.
Working in a passport office would be torture. You sitting there in a gross and boring government office while everyone that comes in wants to talk about how they will be going on some amazing vacation to some far away land. I don't blame them for scowling. I probably would too.
This only happens once a year, right? Are there shoe sales for the holiday? I like shoe sales on holidays. I'm guessing that this holiday offers no shoe sales. Damn. It sucks to be me.
There is quite a large shoe sale.
Just none of the shoes fit you.
I did go to Italy. Twice. Accosted by knife-wielding Gypsies, but came out of it OK.
The theft happened in Germany.
But still beware of knife-weilding Gypsies.
Okay, my car didn't start again after getting a new battery and everything.
Therefore, it must be Liz's fault.
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