Tag Archives: mace

If You Need Me I’ll Be in My New Cave

19 Jun

I don’t know whether to file this post into the category “I did this so you don’t have to” or “when you think people are laughing at you they probably are and you should look in the mirror” or “Rebekah needs to buy a cave and stay there until 2015.”  Anyway, you can cast your votes after reading the next incredibly embarrassing thing that happened to me.  I promise I will laugh at this a few years from now.  Maybe.

So, I don’t know if you guys know this but for me, this year totally sucks.  It is the actual worst year of my life.  I thought that nothing could be worse than 2010, and I had really clung to that with every bit of strength that I possess in my entire body because at least then when something totally sucked I could be like “well, it could be worse.  It could be 2010 again!”  But now I don’t even have that because 2014 is totally worse.

I need to add here that I know that, relatively speaking, my 2014 has not been as bad as some other people’s 2014.  I know that probably I am sounding like a whiny little bitch right about now and people are gonna be all “well, those aren’t real problems” but whatever.  Those people can suck it.  So, let us continue.

So earlier this year, after I got back from Peru (which was really fun except for when my earrings were stolen out of my ears), I had an interview at this place that does community gardening.  I was really excited and totally qualified and the position was essentially made for me.  Anyway, I got all excited about it and then I got to the interview and in an effort to not sound like a raving lunatic because of all the excitement that I was feeling I dialed it back too far and I think came across as uninterested.  I knew it didn’t go well the second I left the office.  Anyway, I got home like an hour later (it was so far!) and looked in the mirror and discovered that my scalp burn from Peru had started peeling and there were like pieces of skin all through the top of my head.  I had looked in the mirror when I left, no skin.  But by the time I got there, skin everywhere.  So probably they thought I was this totally underwhelmed, totally boring, totally unmotivated person with serious hygiene problems.

That was a great day to be me.

So then fast-forward to this afternoon.  I had to go to this interview and it was sort of rainy outside when I left so I brought my umbrella.  By the time I got to where I was going it was not rainy but instead it was wildly humid. You know what does not do well in humidity?  Eye liner.  You know what would have been a good thing to do before interviewing?  Looking in the mirror.  Did I do that?  No, of course not.  So I talked to the lady for a few minutes, she seemed nice, and then I left and walked over to the Verizon store to deal with the fact that they had said they would send me a new phone in the mail but had neglected to do so.  Anyway, because of the earlier rain I had not brought my my sunglasses which, as it turns out, was a huge mistake because had I brought them I could have at least not looked like an ass while walking the streets of Brooklyn.  So I am walking down Flatbush and this woman in a car looks at me and starts laughing.  Like, seriously laughing so hard.  She was having the time of her life.  I thought to myself two things: (a) don’t be so insecure that you think some random person is laughing at you; and (b) did you sit on something?  You must have sat on something.  I looked at my butt, there was nothing there.  Why I assumed it had to do with my ass doesn’t actually make sense because I was facing her, so really logic should have told me that I looked like a total weirdo but no, I thought it was my ass.  Or that I had been shat on by a bird and didn’t notice because I get shat on more than the average person so it’s just like, normal these days.

So I logicked myself out of the worry and continued on to the Verizon store where I dealt with 4 different people, none of whom told me my makeup was fucked.  Also, I may or may not have had an almost mini-breakdown in the Verizon store because that is something I do these days at random places.  (As a side note, why don’t the people at the stores and at banks have direct access to someone who can help you at the help center?  Why do they also have to wait on hold listening to advertisements for mortgages and extra cloud storage and shit?)  Anyway, the lady on the phone was really nice and I don’t blame her for not telling me about my makeup because she couldn’t see me but I believe if she had seen me she would have told me about it.  Then I walked all the way home to my apartment.  I got home, walked through the door, went into the bathroom, looked in the mirror and BAM.  Disaster face.  I actually wish I had taken a photo of it because it was really something to behold.  So I immediately did the thing that I shouldn’t have done but it’s me so obviously I did it.  I sent the following text to the person I had just interviewed with:

“Thanks for meeting with me.  I just got home and realized my eye makeup had gotten all screwed up from the humidity and I am hoping that happened after I talked to you.  But if not, I am usually not that much of a mess and will not be leaving the house without a mirror in my purse for the rest of the summer.”

To which she replied:

“:) It’s all good. Very nice meeting you too.”

And then she said something else about shifts that’s not actually relevant to the story.  Her text led me to believe that my makeup was, in fact, at least moderately screwed up when I talked to her.  So, that’s good.  Go me!

The thing that is so sad about the whole situation is that I looked in the mirror when I got home and all I could think was “of course.”  That was it.  It’s like, obviously since I put effort into actually looking like a presentable human being today my eyeliner was like “sucker! You think you look GOOD?! Palease!”  So, that happened.  It has now been made clear to me that the only reasonable thing for me to do is put a bid in on a cave somewhere and move into it for the remainder of the year.  My friend Sarah tells me that probably I can just go into a cave and hang out there and eventually through squatter’s rights it will become mine but with my luck a bear will be living there already and would try to maul me but would only succeed in gauging out one of my eyes and eating my right arm.  I would defend myself with bear spray but, as we have learned from my experience with mace, I cannot be trusted with anything that comes in an aerosol can.

So, if you need me I will be in my cave.  I will be accepting visitors and snacks.

A Piece of Advice: Don’t Mace Yourself in the Face.

28 Feb

So tomorrow I am leaving for a week long trip to Peru with my friend Carrie.  I decided that now, the day before I leave, would probably be the right time to start packing for my trip.  So, I burrowed into the closet and found my backpacking bag and pulled it out only to discover that I never actually fully unpacked the bag from my trip to India…a trip I took in the summer of 2011. In case you were wondering, that trip occurred approximately 2.5 years ago.  So, you know, clearly I am a responsible and reasonable adult.  Anyway do you know what I found in there??  Aside from my Chaco sandals and a pair of super old running shoes I discovered mace in a pink leather holster sort of thing gifted to me by my awesome and hilarious friend Kendra.  So now let us take a little trip down memory lane, shall we?

Kendra gifted me my stylish mace one night when we were out having a drink.  Or maybe she gave it to me and then I went and had a drink.  I guess it really isn’t important.  The important part of the story is that I walked to my house 10 blocks from the F and G stop with my mace, slightly inebriated, all the while wondering what I would do if someone were to approach me in an intimidating manner.  I decided that when I got home the first order of business was to make sure my mace worked and figure out how to spray a possible assailant quickly and efficiently.

Fast forward about 10 minutes.

I could hardly contain my excitement!  I got home, took the mace out of its cute little pink house, and looked at the instruction booklet.  It said not to spray the mace into the wind because it would be blown right back into your own face.  Not ideal.  It was a little windy and I didn’t trust myself, in that state, to figure out the direction the wind was coming from.  So, sadly, I put my mace back in its house and moped my way up the stairs.  But I had to know if it worked!  I just had to!  So you know what I did?  I went into the bathroom and sprayed the mace into the sink.

So you know something about sinks?  They are bowled which means that if you spray an aerosol thing into them the spray just sort of bounces off the sink and, you guessed it, goes directly into your face.  Do you know what hurts?  Getting maced in the face.  Do you know what makes you an idiot?  Macing yourself in the face in the bathroom.

So, just let that sink in (no pun intended) and remember:  I did this so you don’t have to.