The Plague

Y’all, I am sick.

I’m so sick, I’m even allowing myself to use the word y’all, despite having never lived farther south than New Jersey. Which reminds me—when we were on the road on Friday, we saw a NJ license plate that said “BADA 8ING.” I swear. But I’m digressing, as is my habit. Where was I? Oh, right—SICK.

I have what I believe is known as Martian Death Flu. I’ll spare you the boring symptoms, and fill you in on the funky ones, which include your eyelashes hurting, old lady-esque joint pain, inability to swallow,* and weight loss (which in my case, is actually not good). Side effects include only being able to eat peanut butter cookies with peanut butter-filled Hershey kisses stuck in them, toast, and tea. Oh, and frozen mini egg rolls. Hey, the heart wants what it wants.

Thank God the nanny did not flee upon seeing my fright wig rat's nest hair, froggy voice and pallid visage (I’m well aware I could’ve just said “pale face”, but I was reading Poe this morning. Among other things, which I’ll get to momentarily…). Because she is a glorious angel from up on high, she instead chose to stay and take care of the boy, so I am free to sit here, alternating between watching TV, eating questionable foodstuffs and staring at my bookshelves.

While gazing vacantly at my books, I found something that I thought was lost. The Most Hilarious Book Ever. I’ve posted about this before, and as I mentioned then, we haven’t the faintest clue as to how this book appeared in our house. It doesn’t really matter. For it is awesome. And by "awesome," I mean "really really frightening."

The book in question is a book about “teenage issues” which attempts to be cool, and fails miserably. The entire thing just brings to mind a father crashing his daughter’s birthday party wearing a leather jacket and his old jeans from high school. (My dad never did this, but sitcom dads always did, so in my mind, this actually sometimes happens.)

The book makes me cringe with practically each page I turn, as it tries sound “hip” and “with it.” I use those words because that is exactly what the book sounds like. When discussing birth control options, for instance, the book breaks each one down into, among others, the following categories: Cool and Uncool. You know who else classifies things as cool and uncool, Book? Eric Cartman. I don’t think that’s the voice of authority that you were looking to associate yourself with.

The book is unique in that contains something which will forever go down in my personal category of “paragraphs that make me want to die.” (This category didn't even technically exist until I read this book.) In said paragraph, the author discusses “her scent,” and why she is okay with not smelling like … “berries or mountain mist.” Um…okay. I didn’t know that mountain mist had a smell, but I stand corrected. Disturbed, and corrected.

There's also a section on drug abuse, and the authors helpfully include a list of “natural highs” as alternatives for drugs. Itching for a fix, are you? Well then, why not go fly a kite? (No, really. That’s an actual suggestion.) Or sing out loud on the top of your voice? How about running through a sprinkler?

(There! Still want that heroin? I didn’t think so!)

Like communism, the book is actually a good idea in theory.** In practice, however, it’s wholly disturbing.

Glarrrf.

Huuuurrrrk.

Pardon me.

Yes, you, over there. 

Do you mind passing me my left lung?  Oh, I’m not choosy.  If the right one’s closer, I’ll take that for now.

Hmmm...You know, I do believe that this book is exacerbating my illness.

I’m off to the doctor in a bit, where he will hopefully prescribe me some magical medicine that makes all this go away.  

If only he could do something to make me forget about the book.

*(It’s taking ALL my strength to refrain from writing “That’s what she said.” Oops. Oh, well. Whatever, I’m sick; I’m entitled.)

** Lest you think I’m actually a communist, please note that this was lovingly borrowed from this Simpsons quote:

Marge: I really think this is a bad idea.

Homer: Marge, I agree with you -- in theory.  In theory, communism works.  In theory.

Two points to anyone who actually got the reference.