A Challenge from Me to You

Okay. so I started this blog with several intentions. The first and most important was to make you all laugh at the things that make me laugh. Someone said to me, after a rant of my own, that a true comic finds the ridiculous in the mundane. Oh my, someone just described my existence. So I decided after a few 'gentle nudges' to share my vulnerabilities aka life experiences with you all here.  I also decided to turn up the volume a little.

I am currently in a space where I can put myself on the line for the sake of vicariousness. Yep, I'm willing to do all of the stupid things we all dream of doing but don't. And all just so you'll know.

My motto: I knew but I did it anyway.

I am willing to have a fart machine behind Santa in the mall. I am willing to try to steal an electric scooter. I am willing to drink a litre of chocolate milk, everyday, for one year... just to see what freaking weirdness happens to me.

So I am going to use this blog to totally go to the edge.

If you can dream up a challenge, that's thought provoking and sincere despite the humour, please send it to me. I'll probably do it. No animals or police please... they're on to me.

Chicken Gizzards by the Elevator

I was waiting for the elevator. I saw some writing on a small piece of paper. I read it. It said, "I'm puking up chicken gizzards, trying to watch the Dukes of Hazzard. I should've eaten all my liver. I should have eaten half my salmon. Now I'm salmon fishing in the river. My hands are dry. I should've put cream on them."
This shit honestly happens to me. It's so fun.

Hmmmm

So if given the choice to put the antique china cup on the flat safe surface or the precarious slanted pointy surface, I will always choose the latter. I am trying to figure out what that says about me. My therapist calls it being adventuresome. That's why I pay her the big bucks.

Daily Reason to Get Over Myself:

The angst has turned to acceptance, the anger has turned into forgiveness, and the mashed potatoes in the fridge have turned into something really special.

Sleep Walking

So it turns out that I sleep walk. I always thought that this kind of stuff didn't really exist, but here I am and I sleep walk.

It seems to happen when I'm emotionally perplexed, physically exhausted, or going through some sort of withdrawl because I have attempted to give up one of my many vices. This week, it's espresso. Did I give it up? God no. I just ran out.

My sleep walking has a food aspect that is quite hilarious if you're not me. It appears that I like to go to the kitchen, get the most unhealthy of foods, and simply bring them back to bed. Not the nightstand, not the dresser, not anywhere but in the bed with me. I am especially fond of chocolate in these instances.

Now you have the information you need to picture and imagine my horror when I woke up one Boxing Day morning with a Turtle stuck to the side of my head. In the morning, it no longer looks like a turtle.
"Who poohed on me in the night?"
"Where is that fat rat bastard cat?"
"It smells like chocolate though. Will you smell it?"

"I'm not smelling that Richelle, you smell it."


"But I can't smell my own head?!"

"I'm not smelling that. In fact, I'm not even sure I want to stay over night anymore."


"It smells like chocolate. Honest."