Temerity Jane

Still! Not! Dead!

I’ve really got this not-writing-anything-on-the-weekends habit pretty ingrained now, I think. But I was answering email all weekend, stuff I had neglected all week, so at least some people were aware of my continued existence.

I do not have any kind of big news from this weekend, aside from the fact that I am now deeply locked into a bet with BRK. You can read the details of it here, but basically, I have decided I want the teeny tiny non-combat firefly pet from Zangarmarsh, and he thinks I’ll give up long before I get one. Terms of the bet are that I stay in Zangarmarsh until I either get one, or run away screaming back to Redridge or something.

I spent a good 6 hours or so running up and down outside of the harborage place on Sunday night, no bug. A few more hours last night, still no bug. Even about 20 minutes this morning, and not only was there still no bug, but a giant rare elite was blocking my bug area, he had been there last night as well. If anyone on the server would be so kind as to run over to the zone while I’m at work today and take care of the giant pink bog strider thingie that I can’t remember the name of, that’s been terrorizing me up and down the zone, I will totally give you a cookie. (Edit: Marticar! Cookie bounty on his big pink head!)

Hm, nothing else really happened this weekend, except that I went out to my friend Pie’s place, we saw the Simpsons movie, and then went to dinner with a friend of his, a friend of his who I had met exactly once before, but thinks I am the greatest thing ever (as she should), even to the point that she didn’t hesitate to jump in and rip the head off of Pie’s cousin when she dared roll her eyes at the mention of my name.

Said friend brought along her sister in law, and I admit, I was quiet all through dinner to the point that it was probably bordering on rude, with one word answers and staring off into the distance and whatnot. By the time Pie’s friend and her sister in law had gone off one way, and Pie and I were headed off another, Pie and I got into a conversation wondering how long it took, how far away from us they got, before the sister in law said something and the friend-of-Pie said, in response, “Oh, it’s okay, she’s autistic,” which gave us a giggle for a moment.

Autistic, sure. I suppose friend-of-Pie could legitimately offer that up as an excuse for my behavior at dinner. It didn’t bother Pie, as he is used to me, and it didn’t bother friend-of-Pie, as she thinks I’m awesome, but the sister in law may have required some kind of explanation and I guess that’s the best one to give her.

However, had she asked ME, I would have told her the truth.

Woman, you just talked for 90 straight minutes, not only did you talk for 90 straight minutes, I couldn’t repeat a damn thing you said because you said nothing. An hour and a half of your mouth just going and going and going and not one significant detail, interesting story or funny joke managed to come out. You’d think that by sheer statistical probability, after talking that much for that long, some words would have had to accidentally form into something substantial, whether through design of your own or not, but it never happened. No, I didn’t really talk to you. I guess I’m sorry. But your non-stop verbal explosion of nothingness overwhelmed me to the point that I started feeling around on the back of my head for an ear shut off button. Even if I wanted to communicate with you in some way — though how, I don’t know, because I have a feeling you were spewing some kind of special brand of nonsense, and should I try to reply in nonsensical kind, you would have found me even more strange — even if I had wanted to communicate with you in some way, I would have had to punch you in the damn mouth and taken advantage of the brief silent moment while you gagged on your own teeth to ask you to please pass the salt.

No matter what anyone may say to the contrary, that is not an autistic thing. That is a please for the love of god shut the hell up thing, and that’s that.