Then He Tells Me I'm a Creep

Then He Tells Me I'm a Creep

Heads up: Stone Temple Pilots reference in the title, hey-ho! I should totally get paid for musical referencing, guys, I really should.

Three guys moved into the house across the street from us, after being abandoned for…well, for longer than we’ve been here (a year in June). As mostly elderly people live in our neighbourhood, one of the three dudes – I’m going to call him Sam, as he’s 6’9″ and reminds me of Supernatural‘s Sam – Sam is the grandson of the woman who lived in the house before she died. He’s living with a college buddy – I’ll call him Dean1, because apparently he looks just like Jensen Ackles – and another friend – I’ll call Nick for Nick Swardson, since he’s quite the comedian.

They started coming over to the house to talk the sister and a friend, and when they came over Saturday my parents, being the chatty-patty’s that they are, were all like HAI COME OVER AND DRINK AND STUFFZ. You can imagine the next three hours, which involved Nick cat-calling to me to come out and meet them – something that wasn’t going to happen unless Gerard Butler was cat-calling me to come out and meet them.

For those who don’t know, I have severe social anxiety. I have anxiety attacks, and they affect for me for days after. I can’t control them, and it happens if I’m with a small group of people I know very well, or I’m in a grocery store surrounded by people I don’t. I don’t like anybody witnessing these attacks – it’s very stressful to the people around me, and it ends up making the situation worse – so I don’t go out around crowds, which if you guessed, is very hard to do, especially in the city. So, of course: I wasn’t leaving my room – which was, coincidentally or not – right outside the front porch2.

What’s been bothering the past couple of days, however, is not Nick threatening to not give up trying to meet me no matter what – he was rather intoxicated at the time, if not buzzed – or warning everybody he’d mow the yard nude3 and to get out the binoculars4 – it’s them hanging out in the front yard, which causes me to lock myself in the house, or in the backyard, away from where they can see me. I’m not afraid of them by any means, I just want to avoid the very-probable panic attack that will ensue.

Soooo-ooo-oo, I came up with a plan: as the men and their friends are consistently outside in their lawn chairs, I thought about going out into the front yard, sitting in the middle of it, and taking pictures of them – right in front of them. Not only would this paint me as a stalker and a huge creep, but it just might make them go inside long enough for me to not be afraid to actually be outside. The kicker: while I’d love to do this for shits and giggles – if their drunken behaviour was anything to go by, it’s likely they’d pose for me or something – I’d never actually do it. As I’ve been dodging the open windows in my own house, I quite sincerely doubt I’d ever get the balls to do it.

…I have been blaring Lady Gaga, Spice Girls and Britney Spears for the past two days, though. THAT’S SOMETHING.

  1. « Chris actually started calling him Dean-o!
  2. « WHY, HOUSE, WHY MUST YOU BE CRUEL TO ME? I kid, I kid! I’m the dumbass who actually chose the room.
  3. « …OK fine, I admit it, I’d definitely come out if he ever did do that (and proposition him? IDK, I’m unstable in the face of male nudity).
  4. « This was funny to just about everybody, as the Uncle and I had just been joking about spying on them with binoculars – my sassy zinger was to brag about having a mega zoom on my camera for pictures and zooming peekage, but that’s neither here nor there.

Doctor! Doctor!

Doctor! Doctor!

I felt like using that title because it’s actually a song by The Blood Brothers », and you know me1, if there’s a reference to be made, it will be had.

But I’m not here to talk about The Blood Brothers, or how awesome they are, or how I cried at the news of their break-up, but in relation to this entry » by Rachel » about a doctor who played around with his bushy eyebrows, and repeated the process a million, billion times.

So, I didn’t feel sorry for her like the commenters clearly did, and I just LOL’d SO HARD I almost had a cramp in my side. Which, if I were the superstitious type, I’d think that today’s events were Karma LOL’ing at me and biting me in the ass, as the saying goes. So along with the Dad and the sister, I had an eye doctor’s appointment this morning, and I was the last to go. I go through the whole shebang with the Halle Berry-esque nurse, and the Doctor comes into my room first. From there, the nurse decided she would have this conversation rather loudly in the hallway outside my room:

Nurse: She’s just been dilated, you don’t need to see her first.
Doctor: Oh, she is? So, the other two are dilated.
Nurse: Yes, both of them are fully dilated, I just dilated her. You need to see them.
Doctor: OK, I’ll go see them since they’re both fully dilated.

So, after feeling like a fat pregnant lady — and feeling like the Dad and sister were pregnant as well, as they were talking about them — I was then told to wait “just a moment”, a moment that I am convinced turned into an hour. During that hour, I stared down a headpiece I swear came from The Silence of the Lambs2, and chastised my nurse internally at leaving a unlocked computer in the hands of hacker in the guise of a developer — but that’s neither here nor there, and for a different entry entirely.

I eventually did see my eye Doctor, where I would have convinced myself he was gay by his elegant and wide hand gestures and the way he consistently crossed his legs — except, well, my late Uncle had ravishing hand motions while being utterly3 straight and he did happen to be wearing a wedding ring. Of course, this in no way means I think my Doctor can’t be gay because he wears a wedding ring, or that I wrongly accuse others of being gay to myself — I’m just suggesting, in the future, that perhaps doctors should think about using terms such as “dilated” and the situations that surround them, as the sister and Dad got a kick out of hearing that they were pregnant, too.

(For the less than sarcastic variety, yes, they heard it from their rooms, too – and yes, we did laugh hysterically in the car on the way back.)

  1. « And if you don’t, you certainly should.
  2. « A headpiece he actually ended up wearing! Cue in the frantic heartbeat of trying to stuff down my laughter.
  3. « I use “utterly” because most of us still think he was in the closet.