Selga's Spot

First post. I'm a little intimidated by the big, empty, white space where my thoughts are supposed to go and by the blinking cursor, which seems to be getting impatient with my hesitation to write anything. Ah-ha! My topic has just driven down the driveway.
My downstairs neighbor likes to sing. I like music. I like being serenaded. I applaud those who sing even though they have no talent, because they have courage that I do not. But this particular chanteuse/chanteur is the exception. He (or she)* does not merit shouts of "Bravo" or a standing ovation for their bravery. I instead find myself searching for a tomato, an empty tuna can, a boot or some other item to throw. I mentioned the above items because it seems to me that, whenever someone throws something in movies/TV (particularly in cartoons), it is one of the three items listed above. Makes you wonder. Anyways, the shrillness of this person's voice makes my skin crawl, and I am often forced to wonder how they can't recognize the fact that they are constantly off key.
I don't sing. I can't sing. I refuse to assault others' ears with my warbling, and I feel that this decision is my greatest gift to humanity. The fact is, my singing can be used for one thing and one thing only: stopping an attack by giant, murderous tomatoes, or aliens, or chupacabras.** It stinks. But I recognize this. I really need to find a passive-aggressive way to alert my neighbor to the fact that he/she could literally mutilate a kitten with their vocal stylings, but in such a way that they don't know it's me doing it.
Which leads me to my next topic: passive aggressiveness. I am a fan of it, in part because it's so annoying. I've come across an increasing number of sites devoted to examples of passive aggressive behavior, and the consensus seems to be that it's awesome when you're the one being P.A., but it's damned obnoxious if you're on the receiving end. My theory on the increase in passive aggressive behavior is as follows, and it's not scientific, and I have not done any research to back it up, save for my periodic viewing of the sites mentioned earlier: People are wound tighter than they have ever been before in the entire history of mankind, even when they were being chased by dinosaurs on a daily basis.*** It's become a society where people aren't being pushed to the brink of insanity every day, but they instead have built permanent settlements on the brink. It's home now, this place. Little houses, built on toothpicks, perched precariously on the edge. It goes without saying that it doesn't take much to knock these things over.
SO. People can't cope with additional stressors anymore; when faced with even the tiniest bit of additional stress, people lose their fuggin' minds. Hence, passive aggressiveness. It's a survival mechanism. No one wants to be the guy (or girl) who decided to call out the guy line-cutting, only to have him turn around and blast everyone away, Matrix-style.**** Instead, they sigh loudly ("Hhhhhhh!"), or make comments ("Nah, it's cool, I was standing here to admire the scenery."), or, my personal favorite, glare daggers (..."Shz-z-z-z-z" [the sound of eye-daggers whizzing through the air]). What's so funny about glaring is that people have a tendency to either open their eyes extra wide and furrow their brows until they resemble the sorcerer from "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" in "Fantasia" (the one with Mickey?) OR squint until it looks like they're just trying to read a sign by their intended victim's head. I feel that it would be more effective to alternate doing both. Bug eyes! Squint. Bug eyes! Squint. It will, if nothing else, get the point across to everyone else that you are a crazy mother-fucker who is not to be trifled with!
So...yeah. Enough about that. It bores me now. Since there's little to no chance that anyone is actually going to be reading this... it's Super Happy Fun Time! This is the part of the blog in which I describe, in detail, something which I like. Today's selection is making smiley faces out of food. It brings me a joy I can't describe. Nothing in the world makes me so happy, not even watching old episodes of "Clarissa Explains It All". I once made a pork loin sandwich for a woman at my old job with no bun. She wanted lettuce, onions, pickles and mayo on it. I made pickle-eyes, a mayo-mouth, and onion-eyebrows. It looked overjoyed to be a sandwich. I thought the customer would like it. She didn't say a word when I set it in front of her. Not one. I very nearly took it back, but refrained. I've regretted it ever since. Hmm. Super Happy Fun Time didn't have its intended effect today. Perhaps tomorrow....


*Gender has been left ambiguous to protect the tone-deaf innocent. But you know who you are....
**The aliens and chupacabras need not be giant, just murderous. It makes my ability to slay them with just a quick run-through of "Without You" much more impressive if they are larger than 6 feet tall, however.
*** For those not familiar with their history, this period occurred between 1540 and 1678, until the invention of the Super-Duper-Dino-Shredder.
****Does this ever really happen? Has anyone ever really gone ape-shit over getting called out? I feel like this might just be an urban legend.