My Dirty Secrets (Installment One)
Sunday, February 18th, 20071. I realized the other day I do not know how to work venetian blinds. Well, maybe that’s an overstatement. I never understand how to pull the string in order to get them to come down. But I can handle all the other functions. I can get them to go up (pull the string down – easy as pie) and I can make the slats go up or down by twisting the plastic thing (that’s a snap and I really enjoy it) but I’ve never really learned the right angle or whatever to get them to come down easily. The other night I was going to get undressed and realized I should not put on a “show” for the “neighbors” (I put these both in quotes because I’m not sure that me half naked for 2 seconds is a show nor am I sure I have actual neighbors) and I wanted to get the blinds down and it took me about ten minutes. It was like birthing a kite or something.
2. I am afraid of fire. Not just big fires, but lighting matches. You know those cocky people who can put out a candle with their fingers? You won’t catch me doing that in a million years. You know those assholes who can pass their finger through a flame? Count Jessi out, she’s not interested. You now those dicks who know how to work a cigarette lighter? This girl doesn’t have a clue.
3. I can’t swallow pills. Little ones – birth control, Advil (tablets, not capsules) - but not big ones. The problem is that most pills are big ones. I don’t understand how people are able to just pop something that’s about as large as a bass player’s thumb down their gullet and pretend like that’s not a reason to have a nervous breakdown. I just went to the store to buy liquid vitamins. You know you’ve hit some kind of fear wall when you find yourself drinking vitamin B complex.