IT is almost April, which means that it will soon be May, otherwise known as the month I meet Jon Stewart.
I have had several recurring dreams about this moment. I am just waking up from one now. We are usually in a classroom of some sort after his show, and he usually thinks I am a giant asshole.
I ask him to sign my book "To Lyndsey, heart Professor Eddie Furlong." He doesn't laugh. He doesn't get it.
or I tell him I don't have basic cable and ask him if there is anything he can do. He then stars blankly for the cruelest second in history, and then says, "what? do you want it or something? I can't do anything about that."
or I forget my book and he has to wait while I dig through everything in the room to find it.
I am seriously SO WEIRDLY obsessed with this guy. And more particularly, the possible moment I could be face-to-face with him in real life. It's totally strange. I love him so much that i'm afraid I might do something weird or crazy that would scar or maim us both for life. Like Lenny with his soft soft puppy in the barn. Or worse, I'll do something totally mediocre that will leave me cringing alone the rest of my earthly days.
Either way, I know I won't be able to watch the hilarious comedy of the Daily Show ever again without breaking down into tears over what I've done.
In this last dream though, I did make everyone in the "audience" laugh because I made a very Stewart-like gesture. I think he chuckled. It was the warmest, most welcoming feeling in the world.
But here's the thing. I have seen Stewart on TV, and I have seen him laugh at Paula Abdul. If he can fake it for her, then he can fake it for me. All i want is for one split second to be funny to the most funniest man on television! But i'll have to be quick. We'll most likely be in some sort of book-signing situation. Anybody got any clever one-liners I could zing to get a chuckle out of him? I'm not too proud to steal, that's for damn sure. Help a desperate woman out!
I cut off about six months of growth just a few seconds ago. This would be gross under any other circumstances, but I am speaking of my hair. My red hair. All that money I spent making it red and then i cut it off. Well, it was only six bucks, but still. I can't quit changing things. Does anybody else have a strange urge to go tanning later tonight? Seriously, can i please stop looking in the mirror?
We finished our workbench. Did you see? We have it set up in the "garage," which nestles romantically beside our bed and dresser. Is there anything hotter than a stack of 2X4's? I think not.
Tonight, the farmers at OFBF are taking us out to eat some Good Ol' Amish Cookin'-- on them! Can you say family-style!? These people love corn and chickens and pigs and turkeys and cows and soybeans and potatoes. But they gluton-it-up in a very graceful and much more thankful way than normal people. Like in the opposite way of eating an entire Papa Johns pizza by yourself after 2am. You know what i'm talking about. God bless agriculture and God bless Ohio. and my belly. God bless my belly.
Seth is teaching me a lot about genetically engineered seed. And Monsanto (the international Wal-Mart of biotech seeds). These things normally trigger evil and terrible thoughts in my brain. Now, reluctantly, I am seeing a side to a story I never would have if my husband hadn't been a writer for farmers. I'm going to bet that you haven't heard it either.
I'll share some helpful info with you guys one day when i'm less concerned about my hair.
Did you all Watch This Movie? I laughed especially hard during the potty break. This can be expected I suppose. Pre-1982s...you might not get it, or so I've been told.
Shuh-hup! It hasn't even been 24 hours yet and you've already ruined my smug sense of self-satisfaction. How's a girl supposed to enjoy making fun of people if there are folks like you around reminding me they are God's children?! Boooo!
I am also reminded by your post that "internet fights" are the absolute worse thing in the world! Damn you! I was trying to use my sword of sass for evil and you caught me and made me feel convicted! (well, actually the bitter rage came first, which is always a good sign of convictions to come...) AND you said it with an unrebukable gentleness! If you would have at least been a bit meaner, then I could have distracted myself with that ball of string for a while. I am so angry right now! But not really.
On behalf of theteet.blogspot.com, we would like to present you, R.R., with a thank-you for taking the time to remind me that it's probably best not to be a jerk to invisible-but-real people. The same thing goes with famous people, but this is a different lesson.
Anyway, I have felt this coming for a while now with this whole Badalament thing.I'm taking his link down. It's sort of a mean-spirited thing until I know that we are laughing with B-Dal and not at him.
Sorry, Mae. I let you down, baby. Instead of encouraging you to rise above, I encouraged anger and little pigginess in us.
I'm smarter than what i blog i promise.
This is all I can do right here right now I think.
This is an open letter to the man or woman who is posting anonymously on the blog of Miss Klingler:
Dear Anonymous,
If I may...after careful consideration, I believe your argument is flawed. On your Feb. 10, 2005 response, you commented "Guys, could I suggest you get a life? I mean, you have dedicated a lot of time to a guy you think so 'little' of, how about you move on to bigger and better things. Louis certainly has. What about you?" (emphasis added)
May I play devil's advocate for a moment?
We see here that you have suggested 'you guys' get a life because 'you guys' have dedicated so much time to slamming Mr. Badalament. This is simply a fallacy. In one post nearly two months ago, Mae called our attention to Mr. Badalament's weather report (which, regardless of Mr. Badalaments success or failure as a journalist, is hilarious. You cannot deny this. I bet even Badalament himself has the courage to chuckle at his own performance.) Following the Feb. 10 post, i can assure you that Badalament was never mentioned. Not once. It appears that 'you guys' had certainly moved on with their lives.
It seems that you, anonymous posting-man, are the one wasting time. I mean, you're good at math. MIT, right? Add it up. When you compare the time it took to write one post to the time it took to comment on about a dozen blog entries, I think you'll find who has employed the greater number of hours.
Do you follow?
Also, please, for the sake of your own image, never, ever, EVER spell out an insult. It makes you look childish. Very immature. Unless you're in the fifth grade, in which case, you're A-W-E-S-O-M-E. I mean, it's amusing for the readers, but not in the way you want it to be. It's the same way that Evil Dead is hilarious. Only i think the producers of that piece made it that bad on purpose. (ohhh buurn!)
let's take another look.
I think you would make a great pet Mae, after all you are beastly...and you do have some doggish features. You would make a great dog! Although dogs are more appealing to look at and have a less vapid personality then yourself. You should sport a collar and leash at least it would be safe to be around you...
Oh, where to begin. First of all...vapid? Who says that? Looks like someone had their word-of-the-day calendar handy. And I would argue that Mae is in fact a very animated and lively person. Have you even met her? Also, don't say "sport" like that. This word best used in a comical tone.
Secondly, comparing people to animals is cliche at best. And you did it in back-to-back entries, saying that Mae has many things in common with both a guinea pig and a dog. If overused, what we will refer to as "the animal dis" does not exactly cut to the heart of your opponent. Again, a very amateur thing to say. People are laughing at you. And not the good kind!
Only a couple more things. Bear with me here, as I am only trying to help you in your craft.
In a previously mentioned post you stated, "I can understand that Louis is quite idiosyncratic, but he is defiantly not an idiot." Read over Mae's post and I can assure you that she never even came close to calling him an idiot. It was only you who suggested this.
Finally, please understand that "your" is possessive, while "you're" is a contraction for the words "you" and "are." Please start differentiating between the two. You're insults will be much more affective. (See? Don't you loose respect for me after this mistake?) Believe this.
You say that Louis has moved on from this. I understand he has two science-fiction books pending publication and is currently writing a book on Italian Folklore? Great. I'm happy for him. Mae is happy for him. We all are. We love Louis. We're glad he exists and is a part of our lives. We mean no harm in sharing his weather forecast on the www. Please give us his email so that we can talk to him about this.
In the meantime, please take your own advice and move on. Your intension (to defend your friend, i hope) is noble, however, you are only making yourself look like an idiot. Yes, an idiot. And you can say later that I called you that.
Hugs, Lyndsey Teter
PS- The stuff you say about her grandma - yeah, that just doesn't make any sense. PSS- and i'll thank you to ignore the less-than-subtle hypocrisy within this post, (along with and the inordinate amount of time I spent writing it!) (and the use of "inordinate," while you're at it!) Leave me be! I'm just trying to defend my friend here...(ok i hope you get it by now.) I am Mark Twain.
So they tell me it's been a week. Seven days ago I embarked upon a journey that both kindered old flames and enlightened new paths to righteousness.
Mae took me to Nashville last week and it was super-fun! You've heard the stories, now let it be confirmed that twelve-hour road trips with Miss Klingler should be packaged and promoted at your local AAA office. She's ubers of fun. And Nashville is fun. And Gillian Welch will win you over. And David Rawlings is not as hot as everyone says - mostly just cute - And pigs are good to eat. These are some of the many truths I learned on this trip. Let's start at the BUX.
I would rather die than ever work at another Starbucks. A strong statement? yes. A reflection upon Mae's Starbucks? Absolutely not. Everyone there was real sweet, and the customers were highly entertaining. The only problem: everything was backward. (Note: not backward from the "right" way, but backward from "the 2508 Starbucks" way, and therefore highly confusing to my tiny monkey brain.) Imagine the horror of reaching for the grande lids only to find talls, or reaching for the sleeves only to find the milk pitchers - and imagine all these horrors happening just over 300 times in 8 hours. And they don't mark cups, they only mark sleeves. i didn't even know you could do this. And no matter what the bar person is doing, they only make drinks if you call them, and you cannot do this with a cup in hand. you have no cups at the register. get over it. I admire Mae for staying competent in such conditions. She was rockin the bar. i, however, felt like a total fool. I also knocked a pitcher of milk over which was hilarious, but apparently doesn't happen every ten minutes at this particular store.
Lord help me I would rather be the one saying "what the hell is she doing?" to the girl who doesn't know where anything is rather than the girl who is asking "where are the chargers?" "do you sanitize this or that?" "How many fraps do you back up in the fridge?" etc. Even though all Starbucks are "the same," let me assure you, they are, much like people, different.
So the good folks at Mae's Starbucks put up with my incompetent whining until it was time to go home. I'm not sure I made any best friends, but the evening was yet to come. we got home, watched Curb Your Enthusiasm, which is hilarious, did foot rubs (nobody does it better, baby) and ate some dinner at Wendy's after some minor discussion/complications involving a pantry, as I understood it.
The next morning, we were off. Now i don't want to tell you every detail here, because some of it is just for me. However. It was an awesome trip. It only reinforces the old lesson that the phone is dead to me and that face time is by far the best time.
Assorted moments:
Gillian Welch's Impala barreling across the gravel parking lot at us, missing the tiny Accent by inches. Sorting through the glass-covered floor of the Accent for a pen to write a note to Miss Welch. $7.50 Pork Sandwich aka "tiny lunch" (Damn you, delicious piggies!) $3 Newcastle, baby. Or was it $4? Anyway, Newcastle baby. Two truths and a lie. Department store dresses and cowboy boots. Pristine cowboy hats in white. "Do you know of any good places to eat BBQ?" While swerving off the road..."It looks like Michael Keaton" "Now even though you are superwoman, if you decide to drive on to Columbus, I will personally wrap my hands around your neck and squeeze until you're dead if you don't call me when you get home."
There were many other things, like the tiny squint in Gillian's face when she sings that could only be noticed by those in the front row. (yeah, baby!) And there was stopping by the Country Fixens restaurant to lay a little cable. And there was the guy with his kid aka the coolest dad ever. And there was this bird - you wouldn't believe it! And there was an interesting cover of song, you may know it, by a band called Radiohead. And there was Elvis, and guitars, and other things. But I'm not going to give it to you that easy. Get your own damn memories! These are mine! I hold on to them tightly!
Have you ever cried because you miss somebody when they are in the room with you? Then you haven't had a friend like Mae Klingler.
IN THE LAST WEEK HERMAN ate his first worm, and there was no reluctance on his part. Last night we made stir-fry and watched Fraggle Rock. I learned what a Forsner bit means. Tune in next week for more on this.
Seth and I have been building a workbench. And yes, we wear those outfits during construction. The problem is that you have to have a workbench to build a workbench. The other problem is that we live in a tiny, four-room apartment. Luckily, the rooms are somewhat giant. The kitchen floor and the coffee table do well for workspace. There are no electric tools in this process. We are learning to cut straight lines with a Japanese saw and chip giant mortise and tenon joints with chisel and mallet. I know that a rip saw cuts with the grain and a cross-cut saw cuts (you guessed it) across the grain. Does anybody think this is weird?
I understand now why the son of god was a carpenter. It takes an amazing amount of patience to build things out of wood. You have to, as old man Werther would say, "See it in the wood." I wonder if Jesus would have been as distracted as I was during the premiere of John Stamos' new show on ABC.
My dad has been coaching us via cell phone and internet. It is so cute. The smell and the sawdust in our apartment remind me of hanging out with him. I think it's ultra cool that when i called my dad and told him we found bench plans in a book by some dude named Scott Landis at the Taunton Press, he said "Oh yeah, i've got it right here. Is it a Klausz bench?" If you don't know who these people are, you should rent the VHS at your local library.
Colleen, you will be so proud of me when you see this thing.
In other news, i overuse this particular transition.
I'm headed down south tomorrow. Gonna get me a Klingler and steal her away to Nash Vegas. That is, if the fever doesn't get her first. But before we leave, I get to work in her BUX. I've never worked in another Starbucks before. I'm worried because i don't know how to call drinks very well. We don't so much do that in my store. It's more like "Hey Greg, you're up," or "Hey Nancy, your latte is ready," or "Hey Will, Elizabeth is gay. Stop hitting on her and come get your drink....what? Too hot to be a lesbian? I don't even know what that means. Come over here and get your drink. You're holding up the line." I'm not sure this system will work as well if i have to call everybody "dude" or "chick" or "stranger." I'm not even sure that there will be gays. Iced Decaf Venti Vanilla Nonfat No Foam Latte. This is all I have to remember. We'll see how it goes. Can't wait to get my hands on that Verissimo, or what we La Marzocco users call the "Millennium Falcon 2099."
A fun game is to see how sad you can sing the alphabet. One of you get the guitar, and the other one, start singing. Stretch out the notes and see if you can make each other cry. "G" is by far the most depressing note in the song. Followed closely by "P." Man, that one's a downer.
These are the things about people that make them real. to me. If I ever write a novel, these things will be embedded in my characters. For now, here are two more about my husband.
1.) Seth Andrew Teter loves pickles. Every time we go to the grocery store, we buy a new jar. Loving pickles this much could be considered a quirk, but there's more. For some reason, he thinks it's gross to eat the last pickle in the jar. The result: a refrigerator full of pickle jars containing one pickle in them. for a while i didn't realize this was happening. once I did, I didn't have the heart to throw them out. Should you ever have the opportunity, you can never be fully angry with someone who does this.
2.) He also loves cereal. This is less hilarious, but it's still true. I'd say 2-3 bowls a day. Usually one after every meal. Perhaps this contributes to his strict regularity. 8:40 every morning. You know what i'm talking about.
NOT A WHOLE LOT GOING on here. (Do you like the all-caps transition? Caps to the first verb of the sentence. Shout-out to Terry at the A-NEWS) I'm waiting to work. Always waiting to work. It hovers over me. It's cold again here. But for some reason, the 22 degrees are not bothering me. Perhaps it's the Gillian Welch playing in the background. She is totally making me feel the love. Mae Klingler's Sweet Ohio snuck into my playlist as well. Do you ever feel overwhelmed by unconventional forms of love? Like you don't deserve it? Like you're helpless to feel anything but good about everyone in your life? Well, not everyone. Just a few. You know who i'm talking about. I gotta go. the lines are getting vague and blurry.
Stay Gold. Soon it will be time for a summer's drive.
Name: Seth
Alias: Teth Seter or Steter.
In Brief: The Steter in his natural habitat. Married to theteet.blogspot.com since August 2004. Often the victim of serious hyperbole. Handy.
Hates: Noise, Dominion Homes, above-the-nipple touching, when people get 'handsy.'
Loves: pies (of any kind), dirt, smoking a pipe after eating pie. also, cows.
Name: Maybel
Alias: The Pig or Boobles.
In Brief: Kentucky-born English Bulldog since February 2006.
Hates: Watermelon. All other kinds of melon. The sound of a new trash bag being opened and sitting in the back seat.
Loves: Treats, walks, Charlie, 'humping it out' and barfing.
Name: Amanda
Alias: The Sister.
In Brief: theteet's younger (but larger) sister. Survived a brain bleed in February 2007.
Hates: minor inconveniences that make her blurt out uncontrollably, brain bleeds.
Loves: UFC, cornhole, texting, fast food and her dog Charlie.
Name: mom and dad.
Alias: the 'rents.
In Brief: Ashland natives and frequent visitors. They taught me how to swear.
Hates: hospitals.
Loves: squirrels and lattes.
Name: Mae
Alias: Klingler or Maddog.
In Brief: Cincinnati resident and former college/Old Towne East roommate. Once wrote a song that made theteet cry.
Hates: Hate.
Loves: Jesus, family, puns, guitars and gardening.
Name: Colleen
Alias: Crankin and Rankin.
In Brief: Akron resident and former college roomie. Arguably more handy than Seth. Nice bosom for hugging.
Hates: all drivers.
Loves: beer, coffee, cigarettes and boys we all find strange.
Name: Talya
Alias: Strader and Sweet T.
In Brief: Chicago resident and former college roomie. served brief stint at theteet's 'accountability partner.' collects monthly fee for keeping quiet.
Hates: people who do not comment on her blog.
Loves: social justice, eggs, her boyfriend monsterbeard and the occupation of barista.
Name: Chris
Alias: Christopher, Monsterbeard and Nadine.
In Brief: Chicago resident and college buddy. Maker of 'We once waited up in the dark with a gun,' and other misadventures.
Hates: people who are looking the other way.
Loves: history, film, his girlfriend Strader and acronyms.
Name: pdawg.
Alias: none needed.
In Brief: Former co-worker who is willing to eat waffles with theteet at 4 in the morning regardless of level of snow emergency.
Hates: anyone under the age of 35.
Loves: Hostess pies, old man rants and golf.
Name: Linsly.
Alias: MERLIN, lin or newbie.
In Brief: Former co-worker who lived with us for a week. I can tell this kid anything. He's like a brother.
Hates: sexual predators.
Loves: zombies, guns, porch chats and movie quotes.
Name: jaydubs.
Alias: jwray and 10bagspacking.
In Brief: Co-worker who taught me everything I know about the world.
Hates: mean jokes, mushrooms, clipping fingernails in the office.
Loves: crafts, her gay-together but also betrothed person Kyle, Columbus Bride Magazine, veggie-friendliness and basil.
Name: jessica.
Alias: jessm.
In Brief: College buddy with the amazing handshake. I believe she might be back from Alaska and living in Hudson now.
Hates: poverty.
Loves: Jesus, jazz, geography and hilarious t-shirts.
Name: brittiny.
Alias: Brit-Brat, experimental dater or The Dunlap.
In Brief: Former co-worker (notice a theme here?) who started with me at SNP on the same day. Former Sorority president taught me the ropes of being a lady. her wisdom did not take.
Hates: visible pany line.
Loves: cocktails, shoes, 'the blue box' and her boyfriend the Lizard.
Name: garth and jen.
Alias: not safe around house plants and the real spider-man and/or HSnothingswronghere.
In Brief: Co-worker couple who proved themselves fun at work and on the farm. Periodically forced to kiss in gas station parking lots.
Hates: local broadcast news reporters.
Loves: zombies, movie quotes, Indianapolis and lin rice.
Name: Angie.
Alias: captain cool.
In Brief: Former co-worker who stole my heart. She is the only thing I've ever lost to the Youngstown Vindicator.
Hates: joe and misogynists.
Loves: celebrity gossip, hilarious captions, biking/hiking, her boyfriend Jef, her mom and Columbus.
Name: Melville.
Alias: welcome to earf or bad town.
In Brief: Former co-worker who let me inherit his seat at SNP. For a while, he was the only one who would talk Reynoldsburg politics with me.
Hates: fleas, eminent domain and people who flip the bird.
Loves: his evil cat, running, opinions, beer and Tom Waits.
Name: The Gerish.
Alias: The Gerish.
In Brief: Co-worker and rare, elusive creature. If you're lucky, you'll see a tousle of black hair breeze by over the cubicle wall.
Hates: Things that aren't crackers.
Loves: crackers.
Name: Dennis.
Alias: secret reading.
In Brief: Co-worker and rare, elusive creature. If you're lucky, he'll walk over and talk to you. But he probably won't. Once took my sister-in-law to Homecoming.
Hates: The damn kids who walk in his yard.
Loves: Corgis, Cedar Point and Rachael. But not the one you're thinking of.
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