Is That What They're Calling it These Days?

Once upon a time, there was a time in which there were non-fanish reasons to follow my journal (I’m not quite sure what they were, but...)  Yeah, I’ve not been very good about that lately.

I’ve spent way way waaaaaay too much time in front of my computer, not much time for me to be cracking jokes out in the world.  Hmmmm, irony?  Or just sad.

Anyway, I’ve also not been talking much when I am out in the world, because I’ve been reading a whole bunch of writing advice about the value of observing other people to learn how to write them, and it’s dead hard to observe others when one’s actually doing the talking.

I suppose I could report back to you funny things I’ve seen while on my quest to actually sit back and observe, but that doesn’t involve me, so it’s bound to be boring.  We all know I’m the most interesting thing here, yes Dear Reader?

It should be really easy for me to disappear into the background and just watch.  It’s very strange, Reader, but as soon as I take off my high heels, I vanish.  As comfortable as my flats are, I do most of my walking in high heels, because I do most of my grocery shopping in high heels.  Yeah, you get to see how little exercise I do.  Anyway, when I go shopping, I can’t get meat at the butcher’s counter, or get the cashier to realize that I’m not the same person as the person in front of me.

BUTCHER: Next!
FISH: *walks to the counter*
OTHER SHOPPER WHO CAME AFTER ME: *walks to the counter*
BUTCHER: *finishes helping them*
FISH: *wearing flats* Meeeeeee! *waves frantically*
BUTCHER: Do you want to wait here until your mother comes back?

I, Dear Reader, you see, am tiny.  I stopped growing when I was ten, and I’m not even five feet tall.  I’m also scrawny and sickly, and I look about as intimidating as a pomeranian.  This is most likely accurate.  Pomeranians are freaking intimidating dogs.

PITBULL: *prances merrily along*
POMERANIAN: growl bark shout get back you foul... growl bark
PITBULL: *Runs to hide behind human companion*

I love pomeranians, don’t you?

Of course, I tend to recount all of these little slights to Cat.  I’m a Jew.  I complain.  It makes me feel better.  Really.

But you see, he doesn’t get that no one means to do it.

CAT: God, he’s a pussy.
FISH: Don’t insult my folds of lady softness!
CAT: We need a man version of that...
Fish: Pillar of manly mightiness?  Spear of gentlemanly hardness?
CAT: Tumescent torpedo.

You see, Reader, he is my pitbull.  Everybody expects to be scared of him.  Nobody expects to be scared of me, until I smile.  *smiles*