Monday, December 19, 2011

The Social Leech



According to Urban Dictionary the definition of a social leech is, "A person who tries to "fit in" with a clique/group that they do not belong in. They cling unto you and won't go away easily, hence the name leech. A social leech follows the clique/group wherever they go, even if they don't pay any attention to him/her and give hints for the leech to leave."

I'm pretty sure that we all know or have known a social leech. They're that person at school or at work that wants to hang out with you and your friends despite the fact that they are not welcome and do not fit in. The problem is that you can't help but feel sorry for the leech. They lack many important social skills and often don't realise when they're being inappropriate or rude. They don't understand that their behaviour is often frowned upon and an embarrassment. You don't want to hurt their feelings...but you also don't want to hang out with them.

Therein lies the problem - social leeches don't mean to be social leeches and this, added with the fact that they are usually highly emotional, means that it is almost impossible for you to tell them to take a hike without them bursting into tears and you feeling like a complete bastard.

So how do you know if you have a social leech in your midst? Well, this simple scenario should help. First of all you need to take an emotional situation where only close friends who you trust are around you. In my example I will use my imaginary friend Sam, who has just been dumped by his cruel girlfriend.






 The social leech, seeing your gathering and wanting to be included, will approach. They will ignore any tears (tears and emotion will only encourage them!) and any attempts you make to be left alone will be ignored. Try to leave and they will follow you. They will be driven by a need to feel important, to be included and curiosity.




Once they hear of your problem the social leech will immediately try to feel like 'one of you' by recounting their own stories about similar situations - ignoring any social conventions that indicate that the best course of action is to mind their own business. They will usually be loud and obnoxious and will try to draw attention to themselves. Their aim is to be seen as an 'expert' and to feel important.


 


It's normally at this stage that the group of friends will try to retreat. This can be a mistake however! Especially if you happen to mention any plans your group has to meet up after work/school. The leech, wanting to be one of you, will invite themselves along. They will ignore all hints and body language that they are not welcome.




Now, here comes the problem. Because you feel sorry for the leech and you don't want to be seen a nasty horrible person who makes them cry, you won't outright tell the leech that they aren't welcome. Instead you'll lie. They'll be innocent white lies but lies all the same...and the leech will have an answer for all of them. You see, the leech knows you are going out and they *want* to come. Unless you outright tell them to go away, they'll make sure they are coming with you.




Eventually the problem will escalate. After a few months under the constant fear of the leech forcing their company on you and ruining parties and outings with their embarrassing and drunken behaviour, you will begin to talk in an elaborate code that relates to school or work.




 The code is used whenever the leech is in earshot or may potentially lurking about.

Of course, all the lies and the codes will eventually get too much for you and eventually avoiding the social leech at all costs will become your only salvation. Driven by fear and hunted by a friendship that you do not want you will spend your days curled in a corner or sprinting through the halls of your workplace like a frightened rabbit.




 Beware the social leech my friends! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

(NB - I will go into detail about social limpets in my next entry!)

Wednesday, December 07, 2011

The Poo Man (AKA - Why Tequila and Teenage Boys Don't Mix!)

Many years ago, when I was in my first year of university, I stayed in the university shared flat accommodation. It was a small flat that contained eight separate bedrooms...and generally life was okay. Loud, drunken and frequently unpleasant...but mostly okay.

This is one of those stories that at the time was NOT FUNNY AT ALL. I can't stress that enough. It was quite possibly the most horrifying moment of my life and it scarred me for a very long time. This is the story of what happens when eighteen year old boys drink far far far too much tequila. It's the story of the Poo Man.



One morning, I awoke to a terrible smell. One of those gut wrenching, nose shrivelling smells that makes you dry heave in revulsion. It smelt like poo...but I was sure I was mistaken. After all, why would our usually semi-tidy flat smell like poo? I had to be mistaken...but as I emerged from my room the smell only got stronger.

I decided to investigate the most likely causes - the kitchen and the bathroom. However, despite a pile of dirty dishes and some suspicious looking noodles, the kitchen was clearly not the cause of the smell. The bathroom also seemed fine - no messes or accidents. I was puzzled because the smell was really, really strong.


 
Upon leaving the bathroom I came across my flatmate Nicole, who was creeping around the flat looking scared - she too was seeking the cause of the smell. It was horrible. Terrible. Traumatic. We stood for a while in the lounge room, puzzling on what the smell could be and why it was in our flat...and that was when it happened.



The door down the end of the hallway creaked open ominously and a stumbling figure emerged on a wave of stench. There was something about the figure that looked off...he was covered in something brown...something green...something that looked and smelt like poo.




As he got closer we realised that yes, indeed, the figure was covered - absolutely covered - in human faeces. At first Nicole and I were frozen in horror...but as he got closer and closer we reacted in the way that ANYONE would when something covered in human poo is put near them...we ran screaming from the building. Hmmm, perhaps that isn't a strong enough description. We erupted in hysteria and fled the house screaming - running as fast as we possibly could.



When we returned later that day the house was clean again. The Poo Man (who was actually a friend of a flatmate who has stayed the night) had been made to clean up the mess he had made. The story also emerged about what had happened that night: He and my housemate had had a Tequila drinking competition and had become drunk. Very, very drunk. So drunk that the friend of the housemate had woken up during the night confused and disorientated.

He confused a toilet with a padded computer chair in his friends room and did...well...his business there. He then smeared it EVERYWHERE - on the chair, table, computer, himself, his friend, the bed, the floor...etc etc etc. It was a nightmare for himself and for my housemate.

So...beware Tequila my friends. It may seem like a good idea when you start drinking it, but spare a thought for the Poo Man and the dark side of Tequila!!!

Sunday, December 04, 2011

I Am Not A Morning Person!

Lena Fact: I am not a morning person.

 Yes, despite getting up at 5.45am every day to go walking for an hour and despite my chirpy greetings to my workmates in the morning, I'm actually a sleep deprived and rather bitter morning person who resents the sunshine's influence on my life.

You see, things never start off well for me in the morning because I rarely get a good nights rest. First of all my brain won't shut up about whatever it's currently fixated on - a situation, person, fanfiction, short story idea, song...anything that it wants to focus on it will and it will not let me sleep for a long, long time.

Once I finally do get to sleep I then get tossed into a surreal and confusing dream world where I'm constantly running, falling, crawling, hiding, flying...you get the picture. My dreams are not logical and I rarely dream about things that have anything to do with my actual life. For instance a typical dream for me involves running from aliens inside a crumbling apartment building but then I get attacked by zombies and I turn into a zombie but I'm still intelligent so I hide in an elevator but the elevator plummets to the basement and the aliens are waiting so I hide in a closet and the closet has a secret air duct in it that I crawl into and then crawl through a range of tunnels that get smaller and smaller and then I come out and I'm in a mall and the security guard (who looks like my boss) is chasing me because he thinks I've stolen a shirt...

Things go on like that for a while. My dreams also involve the same few locations. Like the crumbling apartment building, the mall, the basement with the leaking pipes and stairs, the air vent tunnels, the cliff face and my nanna's house. The locations have kind of morphed over time, but I remember them. I know for instance that if I'm in the crumbling apartment building or the mall I should avoid the elevators as they will plummet to the basement. In my nanna's house there is a secret room that can be reached through closets and air ducts. Over the years of insane dreams about aliens hunters, doctors who want my blood and a killer who chases me through air ducts, I have mapped out my strange dream world.

But that's not the point, is it? The stupid dreams are the reason why when I wake up in the morning I'm frequently disorientated and usually grumpy. I do not like the morning. I do not like the light or the noise. I do not like that people are around and that they'll try to engage me in conversation. I do not like that my cat gets to look all smug and warm and happy when I have to get up. I prepare for the morning ahead like someone who faces a death sentence.

First up I have to go walking. I usually wear my pyjamas since my pyjamas are my exercise clothes. It works for me as this way I have to do very little before leaving the house. I'll put on shoes, drink a glass of water, put on some sunglasses to hide my red swollen eyes and pop some gum in my mouth, then I'm off.

I walk with a couple of other people and all of them are insanely awake and happy in the morning while we walk. Luckily, everyone else usually talks at me without expecting a response or to each other, which is good because for the first half an hour of the walk I'm struggling to think clearly let alone hold a conversation or sound intelligent. By the time we get home I'm awake, although not entirely happy.


 (Click on ze picture to make it larger!)
 

 You see, once I get home I have to face a barrage of tasks designed to slow me down and prevent me from actually getting to work. Things like eating breakfast (which I hate!). I have to eat breakfast to fuel my body for the day, but I hate breakfast. It makes me feel sick. I also resent having to wash and dry my hair, get dressed, brush my hair, brush my teeth, put on makeup, put on shoes...the tasks ahead mount up and I do them with a dogged determinedness.

If I get these things done I can get to work. If I get to work I can start work. I start work I will finish work. If I finish work I can go home and return to sleep. It's a vicious circle.

The problem is that once I get to work I am faced with people. By this stage I'm able to greet people in a friendly and chirpy manner...but it's mostly an act. Deep down I resent these people who are awake and friendly and talkative. Oh yes, they talk. Boy do they talk. Once I get to work all I want to do is sit at my desk, check my email and get COFFEE!!!

By this stage as I sit at my computer trying to block out the outside world I hear the noise I dread...children. I hear them outside laughing and yelling and having 'fun'. I know that the children will be loud and irritating when I get to class. It isn't their fault...that's how they are. But I hate it.

It is also around this time that things begin to turn around though. After my first cup of coffee I fell better...so I have another...and another. By the time I finish my third cup I'm quivering with more energy than a chipmunk on a sugar high. Suddenly I can take on whatever the day throws at me and so, with an extra cup of coffee in hand I dash to the classroom and prepare to educate the next generation.



(Click to make the image larger!)


By the by, workmates should not be offended! I love you all dearly...I just don't cope well with mornings!

This blog has been written in the spirit of procrastination! Huzzah:





Mwa!

Thursday, December 01, 2011

SNAAAAAAKE!!



So back in Norseman one day I was out on one of my afternoon walks with some of my Seamus Six buddies, and we came across something which you don't very often find in Norseman - Wildlife! Not just any wildlife though...it was a snake!

David saw it first and responded with the very manly scream of "Snake! Snake!", while Belinda seemed a little more clinical and simply let out a rather shocked, "Oh my God! It is a snake!".

I didn't see the snake at first and began to panic, frightened that I would miss seeing my first Norseman snake. Stupidly, I began to blunder in the direction that David was pointing - frantically trying to catch sight of it!

Eventually we spotted it slithering into some grass, frantically trying to get away from us. It was over a metre long and, based on it's stripes, was a Tiger Snake. Without really thinking we started edging closer and closer, only stopping when it dawned on all of us that chasing after the world's 5th deadliest snake is probably not a good idea.

The snake, although clearly displeased, continued on it's merry way into the scrub and left us rather shaken and more than a little hesitant to go walking in the bush. Although we did venture back onto our walking track, we always kept in mind not to approach any of Australia's notoriously aggressive and deadly wildlife!

In honor of snakes I repost this beautiful meme from years ago:



Enjoy!

(You don't often see live animals in Norseman - aside from snarling stray dogs. I think while I was there I saw one kangaroo, one emu and the snake. I also ran over two birds and a rabbit, but I don't think they count.)

Monday, November 28, 2011

Why I Hate the Pub



I hate going to pubs. I really, really hate it. I hate it for many reasons - I don't really drink so I find it boring, I don't especially like being stuck driving drunk people home and I don't really like the horrible smell of stale beer and cigerettes.

However, I hated going to the Norseman local pub more than most other pubs. I hated it so much that I generally refused to go there unless in the company of a male. I hated almost everything about the local pub except perhaps for the lovely ladies who work behind the bar and the delicious pizzas that they serve.

So what, I hear you ask, could cause a vivacious young lady like myself to keep away from a simple country pub? Well I'll tell you - the men! The local pub is like a gathering point for every crude, undersexed and underwhelming man in the town. Now, I'm not saying that every single man in the pub is a hideous pulsating mutant; there are some lovely guys who hang out there...it's just that unfortunately most of my experiences there involved rather unlikeable drunken troglodytes.

Several nasty things have happened to me at the pub while I lived in Norseman. There was the incident where one of the local stray dogs attacked me while I stood screaming outside the pub, banging on the windows for help. No one helped. They just kept drinking and watched with this glazed look in their eyes.

Or there was the time that a drunken man climbed into my car and asked to go back to my house. Or the time when I got surrounded by drunken miners outside the pub, none of which would let me get through so I could go to my car.

I could go on forever, but my favourite incident at the pub has got to be the time when a man bought me a drink despite me telling him that I didn't want one. I'll let the cartoon speak for itself...




So ends the tale of why Lena hates the Norseman pub!

Now for something completely different...


Friday, November 25, 2011

My Cat is (Probably) Evil!



 I love my cat Khan. He's cute and fluffy and he has the most adorable and silly habits. However, I'm starting to think that he might be evil. It was just a sneaking suspicion at first - you know, I'd catch him looking at people with this...look...in his eyes like he wanted to do bad things to them. I didn't really think much about it at first because Khan the cat is always nice as pie to me, but soon I started to see a different side to him.


The reasons why Khan might be evil:

 1. Khan flicks water on Shaun's face while he sleeps




See, Khan gets thirsty a lot at night and for some reason he prefers 'people water'. Usually he waits until we fall asleep and then he'll drink from the cup of water that Shaun often leaves beside the bed. Gross huh? Well, we worked out a way around this...or so we thought. We got a long skinny cup that he couldn't get his snout into.

Well, that didn't really work out. You see, somehow Khan worked out that his paw will fit into the cup and that he can then lick the water off his paw. So that's what he does - he puts his entire paw into the cup and lets his fur soak up water, then he pulls it out and licks the water off - the licking in turns flicks water onto Shaun's face and wakes him up.

So he's really get spitty water in the face. Huh. That's even grosser than I first thought. Ew.


2. Khan attacks people's legs




Mostly Khan attacks Shaun's legs but from to time he'll pick on someone else, like my friend Jenna who copped many a bite from Khan. I'm sure why he picks on some people and not others, but I'm guess it's dominance thing.

Khan isn't subtle about his attacks - he doesn't hide around corners and then spring it on you as a surprise attack, oh no, he will follow you around and then randomly bite you and spring away. Or he'll simply chase after you - biting and scratching at your ankle if you're too slow to jump away.


3. He covers everything in a layer of fur




Everything in our house gets covered in fur. It doesn't matter how much I dust and vaccuum; the cats hair gets on EVERYTHING - especially clothes and chairs. This isn't so bad for me because I always keep a sticky roller thing with me to get the hair off...but Shaun has no such luck. He gets hair all over his suits and has to spend large amounts of time trying to get it off.

(Shaun really needs his own sticky roller thing! Note to self: buy him one!)


4. Khan vomits in walkways




Yeah...and I'm pretty sure he does this on purpose. He can never cough up hairballs on the lino or the tiles, nope. It's always the carpet walkways...although usually I find his little disgusting presents before people step in the. Usually...


5. Khan knocks EVERYTHING off tables




Mmm hmm, Khan tends to sleep on tables and anything on the table will get knocked off. He doesn't even do it accidently - I've seen him knock things off with his paws on purpose.

The circle of items which we find surrounding tables has been christened the 'cat corona' by Shaun and my buddy Lucy. Yes, things get broken and yes it's annoying. Khan is probably evil.

However, despite Khan being evil (mostly evil to Shaun - except for that one time that he tripped me down the back stairs) he is still my cute little adorable kitty ^_^ and I love him!




Is your evil? Do they engage in any nasty little behaviours? Feel free to share them with me!

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

I'm a SUPER AWESOME climber!

When I was young I was pretty athletic. Seriously! I was good at anything that was sports related or tied in with physical activities; running, swimming, netball squash, sprinting, long distance running, discus etc. etc. etc. I still have my many 1st place ribbons, trophies and medals! (It's also the reason why I now have an Osteochondral Defect in my knee - but that's another story!)




Despite being great at everything, what I was best at was climbing. I could climb pretty much anything – trees, poles, cliffs. You name it and I could climb it. I was especially proud of the fact that somehow I could manage to shimmy up straight-trunk trees and even basketball poles – namely things that were straight up and down and which had no branches to help you up.

How I was able to climbs these things I have no idea, but it came in mighty handy whenever I was playing hide and seek chasey – I’d just hide up the hardest to climb tree I could find and I was safe. Why bother hiding when I could taunt people by staying just out of reach? I mean, no one but me could get up them. Suckers.




Of course, I eventually had my comeuppance. Everybody makes mistakes and I made my mistake when I tried to climb up a rock face in Kakadu in the Northern Territory. The place where I decided to go climbing was at UDP Falls (made famous in Crocodile Dundee) which better known as Gunlom Falls. I thought it would be an easy climb that would impress my parents and the tourists...I was wrong.




Foolish, foolish me.

At first I was doing all right. I was climbing and having fun – it wasn’t even an especially hard climb but eventually when I was about a metre from the top; I got stuck. I couldn’t climb back down again because I couldn’t reach the footholds and I couldn’t get any further up because the top of the cliff was just out of my reach.

At first I tried to play it cool, but as I was stuck up there longer I began to panic and eventually I started crying, convinced that I was going to plummet to my death. Why was I so worried? Well, not only could I see down in the waterholes below me, I could also see exactly how far down the next giant waterfall went. It was a long, long way down and even though I couldn’t have possibly fallen down the second giant waterfall, I was certain that somehow I would and that crocodiles would get me.




As I sat wailing on the cliff I saw a man below in the waterhole catch sight of me.

“Look!” He yelled dramatically and pointed at me, “A girl is stuck on the cliff!”




A crowd gathered to gawk at me and once I realised that everyone could see me (and that everyone knew I was stuck) I began to cry harder.

Eventually my father used the bushwalking track to walk to the top of the cliff and he rescued me. To this day I will never forget being stuck on that cliff, and although I continued to climbs trees and the occasional small rock face I never again tried to climb anything that big.

I still have dreams where I’m at the top of UDP Falls trying desperately to climb down…




So tell me, have you ever got yourself stuck in a stupid and completely avoidable situation?