Tuesday, January 29, 2013

You Have Leveled Up!

This is an image I personally love. As a D&D player, I love the idea that new monsters and new challenges just mean that you've gotten enough XP to level up.
Sometimes, however, these challenges come in unfortunate or unpleasant forms.

Such as being so congested you can't breathe.

The other day I was in charge of watching Philip, and he ended up falling asleep on my lap. Unfortunately, I believe he was also sick that day because guess who woke up the next morning with a stuffy nose and a sore throat?
That's right!
I did!

And currently my nose is still having issues so I can't exactly breathe quite right yet. It's irritating, but I have that picture up there reminding me that I just leveled up.
Besides that, I have the imaginary voices of my body talking to me.
Their conversations go something like this.

Me: No! I need air!
Throat: Ow ow ow ow ow. I'm in pain. PAIN, I TELL YOU. PAIN.
Nose: You wimp. OXYGEN. Who needs oxygen?
Me: I DO.
Nose: Never! Have a little originality! You don't need to breathe. BREATHING IS UNECESSARY.
Throat: No, seriously, I really hurt.
Me: Shutttt up.
Voice: Uh, sorry, but I'm starting to give out a little. I think I'm a bit under the weather.
Throat: I will kill you. D:<
Me: x.x I'm going to go take a nap now.

So I'm still working on getting better. But while all of this is going on, I have several super heroes coming to help me.
Such as tea.

Me: Hah. Take that, nose.
Nose: Noooooooo! Airflow! D:
Me: Yay!
Tea: :( You just ran out of tea.
Me: X.X

...and that's how it's been going for me for the past few days. What about you guys?

Friday, January 25, 2013

Selling Cookies to Hippies

It's no secret that some of the most interesting adventures I have occur while I'm selling Girl Scout cookies door to door.
One of said adventures occurred the other day when my friend Nina and I went to sell cookies in her neighborhood.
It started out normal enough: Nina and I wandering down the street singing the Doctor Who theme song and talking about how excited she was to sell cookies.*

*Nina isn't actually a Girl Scout, but since very few Scouts live in her neighborhood I convinced her to go around and bother people with me. She was actually really thrilld to sell them, which I personally find bizarre, but it was good too! :D (love you, Nina.)

The first few houses we went to had a more or less normal reaction
("No thanks", "I already have some", "Sure", "My granddaughter sells them"), but then we came to a small grey house.

Now, let me tell you that there is nothing about this house to suggest that it may be out of the ordinary, or that it may be inhabited by anyone other than the people who generally seem to live in this neighborhood:
Normal families or older folks.


Nina and I walked up to the door, undoubtedly singing I Am The Doctor and laughing about all the random responses we had gotten so far.
We rang the doorbell, and out came...
A man with a beard, a yellow shirt, green pants, and red suspenders hanging from his sides.
I'm not kidding.

We were trying to be polite, so out came ther regular greeting from Girl Scouts:
"Hi! Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?!"

Now, just as a side note, most people either say "yes" or "no". They don't usually dilly-dally between yes and no, and they're usually very enthusiastic about either answer.
(Yes, we know you're saying "sorry, but I already bought some", but we all know what you really mean is "WOOT I HAVE AN EXCUSE TO GET RID OF THESE RANDOM STRANGE GIRLS RINGING MY DOORBELL AND BOTHERING ME FOR MONEY".)

This was the second sign that maybe this wasn't the normal sale.
Instead of a "yes" or "no". we got...

"Yeah, probably. Uh. Come on in."

Again as a side note, it isn't smart to go into a stranger's house. But he had grabbed my order sheet, and I felt duty bound to protect it.
So we went in.
And were immediately hit by the smell of either (or both) incense and marijuana.
It was a very strong smell.
Overpowering, you might say.

So while we stood there trying to breathe, the oddly dressed guy turned to the rest of the room and asked,
"Do we want to buy Girl Scout cookies?"
The four or so people sitting in a circle on couches eating scones had a mix of reactions that ranged from "Yes!" to "Absolutely!".
That is, they all answered in the affirmative.

Please note that he still was holding my order form.

So while Nina and I stood there trying to breathe and not really believing what was going on, he motioned us farther into the house, saying that there was a table to write on.
So we followed him.
Into the house.
Of hippies.
That may have been filled with pot.
It was interesting.

So we ended up in the kitchen of this house. The dining area was filled with another circle of brightly colored couches, and the table in the kitchen contained a guitar, at least three books with men with beards on the front, and a bunch of boxes of obscure looking tea.
There were also a bunch of brightly colored banners hanging from the stairs, and the entire house was painted yellow.

While we stood there, and the hippie looked at the order form, he asked what is probably the most baffling question I've gotten all cookie season this year,
"Do you have that new cookie? Like a fruity mango one?"
I don't understand.
Fruity... mango... cookie?
Because this doesn't actually exist (and never has), I told him that no, we didn't have a fruity mango cookie.
"That's okay. I didn't really want it anyway."
O-kay then. And you were just asing for... fun then?
Nina and I were by this time trying not to look at each other because it may have ended with both of us cracking up, or one or both of us bolting for the front door.

The hippie asked how much it was per box, and I told him that it was four dollars. He then looked at me and said he better buy twenyt dollars worth. Because he didn't seem to be able to do math at that moment, I told him that that would be five boxes.
"I better do two and three then!" he looked awestruck by his brilliance.
Yes, three and two would make five, I suppose.

So he ordered his cookies, and got out the money to pay us. Just at the moment where Nina and i were like "WE MIGHT ESCAPE FROM HERE ALIVE", one of the hippies (a very short, barefoot woman) wandered into the kitchen.
She also seemed a lot brighter than the first hippie.
"So do you live around here?"

Author's note: I've already covered how much I hate that question. I hate answering it. It's creepy and stalkerish, and what if I DON'T live around there? What? Are you not going to order cookies? Well, will ya?
This time the question was even creepier because we were standing in a buttercup yellow kitchen surrounded by tea and hippie books and.. well... hippies.

Thankfully Nina doesn't mind telling a few white lies, so she answered that yes, we did live around there and yes we were part of the same troop, and I added that we were both seniors and that yes we were still Scouting and it really was quite wonderful and that I hoped they had a good day.

Another Author's note: It was disturbing too because the second hippie actually reminded me a lot of my teen group leader who I do love very much, but who also sort of frightens me. So the entire time I was standing there going "No, it isn't your teen group leader." Which made the stalkerish question even more scary.

This is when the hippies let us leave their house.
And yes, as soon as we were outside, Nina looked at each other and I started laughing and she gave me a look and said
"That was seriously pretty scary in there. I would not have gone in there alone."
And then we walked away as fast as we could, laughing the entire time, partially because it was so surreal and partially because we had just survived a close encounter with hippies.

So yeah. That was the most interesting thing to happen to me this time.
Also, I think I'll kidnap Nina and make her go to a site sale with me.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Girl Scout Cookies: What They Mean to You

It's that time of the year again, where we put on two sweaters, a coat, gloves, scarves, two hats, socks, boots, and venture out into the realm of grumpy non-sugar eating grandparents-with-Girl-Scout-granddaughters strangers to sell them cookies.

Now, let's face it. Everyone loves Girl Scout cookies. There's always a type that you're going to love, even if you're a weirdo and don't like Thin Mints.
...You think I'm joking, but a few of my closest friends can't stand 'em.

We also all know the mission behind the Campain of Ruthlessly Harassing People to Buy Cookies. That is, we're trying to fundraise to go do a special trip, to go somewhere, or just to fund our troop for another year so we can go ask people to buy stuff from us next year.
It's a vicious cycle.

But what the actual person doesn't know is what Girl Scout cookies mean to them. Yes, we all know that you're "supporting your local Girl Scout troop!" when you buy a box of Savannah Smiles, but do you really know where your money is going?

Let me break it down for you.
The majority of the money goes to the Girl Scouts to take care of our camps, to pay the bakers, and to otherwise run the organization.
The meager .80 cents we get?
It goes to fund our vacation.


So while you're enjoying your delicious boxes of Tagalongs at your kitchen, you're also allowing my troop to go out and enjoy our Tagalongs (yes we buy them from ourselves, silly) while sitting on a beach in Georgia.

Wait, what?

Oh, yes. Did "fund our trips" sound more noble than "throw money at me so I can go on a vacation this year"?
Why do you think we're not as brutally honest as we could be?

I'll tell you why.
"Would you please buy some Girl Scout cookies" translates to "BUY THE FREAKING COOKIES MY FEET ARE GOING TO FALL OFF FROM THE COLD."
"Thank you for supporting my troop" translates to "WOOT. I'M ALMOST A DOLLAR CLOSER TO MY $850 GOAL TO GO TO GEORGIA!!!!!"
"Thank you anyway" translates to "You miserable jerk."
"Good morning!" translates to "I'm about to harass you to buy some stuff at me"
"I'm selling cookies!" translates to "Throw money at my face! Fund my vacation, lowly minions and strangers! I'll bribe you with cookies!"

But seriously, that's what's going on here.
We're using the art of manipulation to force strangers to pay for our vacations.

But hey.
It works.