Sister Sarcasm

I’m sarcastic. This is a given fact, and if you’ve ever met me in real life, it’s fairly obvious after about 5 minute’s worth of talking.

When I’m at work, in front of customers or certain coworkers, I mask.

Masking – a process in which an individual changes or “masks” their natural personality to conform to social pressures, abuse or harassment.

If I’m in an unknown social situation where I’m expected to “conform” to social norms, I mask.

But catch me in a known, comfortable, or laid-back social setting (ex., with friends, or my kids)? And you’ll get the Sarcastic Sister.

And… I use it to deflect criticism, as well.

In fact, I will use sarcastic self-deprecation to head off criticism from others.

I mean, if I’m cutting myself down… what good is it for someone else to attempt microaggressions & insults?

After all, I got there first, and with far better sarcastic insults about myself than anyone else can come up with. Who knows me better than me? Who knows right where to stick the knife so as to thwart further injury by outsiders?

Yup.

I emotionally cut myself to prevent others from doing so.

That’s priceless logic, ain’t it?

So, to show what I mean, a friend of mine upon moving away, gave me a box of affirmations. In the “advent calendar” style, you can pop one open & read something nice, that’s supposed to boost your mood about yourself.

So, of course, I’ve started opening them, & immediately twisting them.

Cause of how I do.

Pandora’s box, Trojan horse…same feel.
My body doesn’t make the sweet feelings anymore, so I use store-bought.
Because – science.
Cloning – not for everyone.
*sigh* is the picture clear enough, or..maybe a couple more.
No caption necessary
My personal favorite – simple & eloquent

One day, I decided the shit was deep enough around me, so I’d take it easy on myself…

Nice enough, yeah?

One of my coworkers asked me yesterday

“How the hell.do you think these things up? Do they just pop into your brain as soon as you read the cards?”

*sigh* yeah.

It’s called Maladaptive Cognition.

There’s always that small “voice” in my brain that pipes up to knock me “back into my lane”.

Another coworker told me I should write “sarcastic self-affirmations”, cause they’d sell like crazy. Meh. I know they might, but why risk yet another form of rejection among so many others?

I usually just shrug it off in front of others, & lay it off to “Well, I’m just twisted.”

They agree, & we go on about our business. They’ve been entertained with my antics, & I’ve prevented someone else from hurting my feelings by beating them down a little myself.

It keeps the hyenas off my lawn.

Sarcasm – the ultimate self defense.

Wear Something Black

I’ve been mulling over a new story, & the title of this post will the biggest hint.

Today was Turkey Day, so I spent a few hours with my parents. I don’t get to see them much, with the way things are right now, so it was good to share a meal.

Turkey Day has never really been a favorite holiday for me, ever since I was little. It was all food, football, dishes, & being told to keep my nice clothes nice. Me being the HUMONGOUS tomboy, hated that. It was a day of varied tortures, broken up with some passable snacks.

Buut, anywhozits, that’s just the highlight reel of the day.

I had to stop in, to share something here that I feel is probably inappropriate to share on fb, today of all days… I don’t want to upset anyone on one of their high holy days…

So, fuck it. I’m posting it here.

As you might know, if you’ve read some of my other posts, I have a dark, morbid sense of humor. I’m also on tiktok, which is an important aside.

So! I was watching vids on my fyp (For you page) & this video came up of an exhumation of an old gravesite. From the background music, you could tell that something was going to go wrong in just a few seconds.

Well, yeah, duh. The cement lid was lifted, without the casket…and underneath was a grave filled with brackish water.

Not inappropriate yet, folks, just the facts.

Sooo, being curious & slightly confused as to the missing context of the video, I opened up the comments to see if the creator had left any info there.

What I found was someone with the same twisted humor as myself.

Commenter: I LOVE 🖤 unboxing videos!

*cue choking laughter*

Annnd, I’m done.😂

Time Travel happens when you’re not looking, so wear sensible shoes

I lost my damned wifi password today.

And, of course, I never bothered to write it down for myself, because it was stored in my phone, so why bother, it was right there.

I wrote it down once for OnlySon, but, like all good tragedies, his room was struck by a cyclone before I could get to the Post-it note, and he’s not here to find the grumble-fucking thing for me.

ANY WHO…..

During my rip-tear-toss of a search around the house, I decided to try my rusty, trusty… (Drumroll please ****)

ADDRESS BOOK!!

YES, this is a thousand years old, the binding is cracked & in desperate need of some form of bonding agent, but!

It’s also a vehicle of time travel.

Honestly, I think I picked this book up at Ben Franklin in the little town I used to hang out in, my senior year of high school… It. Is. That. Old.

My Mom always told me to write addresses into these books in pencil. (wicked, morbid woman).

Because you know what pencil means…right??

TEMPORARY.

It makes my heart hurt & my brain ache, just thinking about all the names my mom would’ve had me erase from this book if I’d kept following her stricture.

But…I’m an ink-pen kinda girl.

Yeah, some of the names in my address book are written in pencil, but I’ve still never erased One.Damn.Name.

Not. One.

Ohhhh, I’ve scribbled out a few, hooo boy, yah I have.

But erased?

Nope.

My Grandma’s name, last home address and phone number are still written in this book, and she’s been gone a couple of years now.

My friend, Shane, he’s still in the book…and he passed away quite a few years ago from a cancerous brain tumor.

A great aunt & uncle, both passed, many years ago… Still in the book.

Friends I haven’t talked to in years, but if I saw them on the street tomorrow, I’d hug the crap out of them?

Still in the book.

Multiple addresses for my male sibling… Some crossed off, some not, none current. All still there.

People’s names, addresses, and/or phone numbers that I haven’t thought about or used in years, they’re probably no good anymore…

But when I look at their name in that old handwriting, I’m suddenly transported back to whatever time of my life that was, & remember that person.

And…in the back of the book…carefully scribbled

Anniversaries

Birthdays

Important numbers belonging to people I cannot forget – my children, my parents.

For a book small enough to easily fit in the back pocket of my jeans…

There’s a whole lot of living time crammed into those pages.

Step lively, step lightly, but step forward.

…….

…………

No, I never found the damned wifi password. I’ll call the cable co. tomorrow. Dammit.

I’m A 3-d Printworthy Genius.

I swear, someone needs to patent the shit that comes out of my brain.

And by someone, I mean me, of course.

Because then I’d be a gazillionaire.

I went to see my rheumatologist today about my hands.

I’ve had osteoarthritis for a couple of years, now, and have seen a couple of specialists. Last year, I got shots in not only my thumbs, but also in a couple of fingers. (The ones you don’t want to randomly show off to people, because they might get offended if you don’t explain, first, why you’re flipping them off)

Needless to say, the shots don’t last forever; osteoarthritis is a degenerative disease that causes the cartilage between the bones to decay, allowing the bones to rub on each other. Causing pain, sometimes lots and lots of pain, and some swelling. Although, with my osteo, the swelling isn’t so bad, the aching & pain is.

Most days, my hands feel as though they’re just meat bags full of busted glass.

And over the last couple of months, I’ve developed a problem with my grip, especially in the mornings.

Osteo sucks. It really, really does.

ANYWHO!!

ON TO THE BRILLIANCE!

I went to the Dr., and he gave me a shot in each thumb again. ….and it hurts. As the afternoon wore on, it hurt worse, aching all the way up to my elbow by the time I got home, driving me to tears.

BUT, I came up with a BRILLIANT, SCIENTIFIC answer to the problem!

Ok, so my first idea…if they can make fake boobs – just make them smaller, & put them in where the cartilage is supposed to go…isn’t so brilliant. I can just imagine – the implants get put in, and a short while later – – POP! yeah… Not going to work.

BUT! My piece de resistance…

3-d PRINTING!!

Everything is being 3-d printed these days, so why not cartilage replacements?!?

Look!

They can 3-d print a whole hand! All I need is the little cartilage bits between the joints! C’mon! Waaay less work for the printer, right?!?

They can make prosthetics with a 3-d printer, but not cartilage??? What’s wrong with this picture??

Nanoparticles!

They can 3-d print Nano-fucking-particles! And yet they’re not curing arthritis?!?

I’ve cured arthritis, here, folks.

Where’s my damn Nobel Peace Prize??

A Little Wild

I fear my mother despairs of ever cultivating a true gardener’s soul within me.

(Yeah, pun intended)

I have this tendency to “grow my own way”.

And, I hate weeding.

Uggghhh…nothing more mind-numbing and irritating to me than pulling weeds. It’s one of the reasons why I got rid of the vegetable garden we used to have in the backyard.

Boooring….

I do however, have my own way of gardening.

Wild.

Other than my lily garden, which is still a work in progress, and will probably end up more wild than tame by the end of things, anyway, my flower beds are thrown together as a mix of perennials – and then told – “GO! Whoever lasts – wins! May the odds be ever in your favor!”

And I am very much in support of this style of gardening, obviously.

My mother hates it.

She sees it as disorganized, messy, & well…not like her.

But that’s just it.

It’s ok. I’m not her. I’m me.

I love my mom.

But I’m disorganized, messy, & not her.

I am, however, a survivor.

Just like the flowers that make it to the blooming stage in my yard.

And, by that – I mean – my yard…has now gotten into the The Hunger Games act of gardening…

I have wild daisy patches blooming in the middle of my grass.

And I let them.

Why?

Because Katniss and Peta made it this far. They deserve their chance to shine before the mower takes them out.

They aren’t specially bred lilies, or carefully cultivated and pruned arrangements.

They popped up, out of nowhere, while I wasn’t looking, because we were getting rain & I couldn’t mow for a few days.

So- bloom – you little fuckers.

Bloom.

Go wild.

This yard is the only place you’ll probably get this chance.

Because I’m still a little wild myself…even if only between my ears.

(No green thumbs here)

Drag Me To…

I went to my very first Drag show on Saturday!

*SQUEEE*

Ahhhh…that’s better.

I’ve wanted to see a live drag show (as in, Yaaass, Qween!) for years – ever since I watched the original 1978 movie version of La Cage Aux Folles. I saw this one late night on cable in my early twenties, & was immediately riveted.

This feeling was reiterated when I saw Too Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar.

And again by the Robin Williams and Nathan Lane version of La Cage Aux Folles, retitled in English to The Birdcage.

Needless to say, I’ve had a healthy fascination with Drag Queens for a long time.

Hairspray? I prefer the original version with Divine, Rikki Lake, Blondie’s Debbie Harry, and Sonny Bono. C’mon, I mean RIC OCASEK from The Cars was in it, fergawdssake!! (Yes, I’m a child of the 80’s, and not ashamed of my musical upbringing, thank you)

And, I was recently lead to Todrick Hall, who has the voice of an angel, and the attitude of…well…

Y’all should watch his YouTube video called Straight Outta Oz. It’s straight outta this universe amazing.

Of course, I love RuPaul, and discovered others through the Drag Race, like Bob the Drag Queen, Alyssa Edwards, Miss Fame, Kim Chi, and others too numerous to mention here.

Anyway, back to the Drag Show.

It was put on as a fund raiser by a local Relay For Life team, and they called it “Cancer is a Drag”.

It was 4 hours of knock-down, drag-out (pun totally intended) hilarity and fun.

I didn’t want to leave my seat the whole 4 hours, even to pee, for fear I’d miss something!

And the Queens and Kings were amazing! They lip synced, they joked, they played games & got the audience revved up and involved.

I was blown away.

And, I can’t wait till they come back.

I just want to hug them all, tell them how much they’ve given me, how brave and inspiring I find them, that they can be so OUT LOUD, and UP FRONT right in people’s faces! Especially in conservative places like the city and state I live in.

(North Dakota’s a red state, y’all, and sometimes it’s so conservative it’s claustrophobic)

So, here’s the best of the pictures…I know they’re not the best, but when you’ve got #QWEENSINMOTION…well, you do the best you can.

These were not all of the performers, but I wasn’t able to get great pictures of everyone – a lot of the pictures I took came out blurry due to the dim lighting, the strobing light effects, & the constant movement of the performers. It was really difficult to get still shots!

I sincerely hope these ladies and gents know just how appreciated their performances were on Saturday, & they’re willing to do this again really soon. Because I’m kind of addicted to the whole experience, now.

Even though I ended up going to this alone, I never felt left out.

And that, was the most amazing part of it all.