Shamed

Tonight I felt compelled to look up the word "shamed". The definition reads in this way: "the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable." Now it's my experience that people, me especially, throw out words in a spew. That is saying, in the throws of our expression we rely on what we think is the definition of words instead of what they actually mean. After examining the dictionary, I know for sure that "shamed" is the appropriate word of choice here.

What has happened is this. Several weeks ago I was so bold as to make meatballs. I thought they were pretty good. (And I really did think they were.) Then a few weeks later the Princess says, "oh, hey guess what? I made some meatballs too!" She even went so far as to offer some of them to me. Well, needless to say, I was suspicious because why would the Princess want to share her meatballs with me? Right?

Well turns out she brings me some meatballs, but I had just eaten a huge sandwich, so I couldn't chow down just yet. I put them in my fridge, and many hours later when the hunger strikes, I take them out, heat them up, and start the feasting. It was then that I realized that these meatballs were ridiculously good. I'm not talking like "kind of good". I'm talking, ridiculously freaking good. Like REALLY good. And then all of a sudden I get kind of defensive. I'm saying to myself, "Wait, these meatballs are leagues beyond the deliciousness of the meatballs I made." Even to the point where it would be safe for a food critic to say that my meatballs were 'doggy doo" and the Princess' meatballs were 'orbs of pure joy'." It was then that I experienced "shame" because I felt the "pain" of being "dishonored" by a superior product.

I'm not lying. They were large and juicy and filled with Gorgonzola cheese. Delicious!

So then I feel inclined to text the Princess saying that her meatballs were so delicious, etc.

Feeling this intense shame, I thought that maybe the Princess hadn't brought these meatballs out of kindness, but out of competition. Yes! The Princess clearly had in mind to rub this whole thing right in my face. The fact that her meatballs were so much better than mine. That's why she gave them to me!

She even went so far as to have one of her friends call me from her phone. I saw that the phone said "Princess". I picked up the phone and said, "you shamed me!" And then I heard a man's voice on the other end that explained how he wasn't the princess and that how he had read the blog and thought it was "good". In the background I heard the Princess order this man to treat me with cruelty. Thankfully this man had a beating heart and refused.

Further Rejection

Some of you may remember that several weeks back I drew a picture for the Princess. It was commissioned by her as an image for her birthday dance party extravaganza. She dismissed it as being too "real" and she went on to say that she was going for something more "cartoony". When she asked me to draw another I refused. "No," she said, "Just draw one real quick! Make it more cartoony!" I told her no. She then said, "No! Just draw it real quick! Make it cartoony. That's what I want!"

So I gave in. I drew her something fast. Something I paid little attention to. I drew it hastily and without care. "HERE!" I said with vigor. "Take this!" The princess viewed it and then we went to lunch.


"I can't put that on the flyer for my dance party," she said.


"And why not?" I replied.


"Because you drew a reindeer with his hoof groping his crotch!"


"I did not," I replied with great pride.


"Yes you did!" the Princess Replied. "The reindeer is clearly grabbing his crotch!"


And I want it to be known at this point that I sincerely believed, with all my memory, that I had drawn a dancing reindeer with his hoof upon his chest. It was clear in my mind. I was certain. The princess and I argued for an hour about the presentation of the dancing reindeer. It was then that we finally returned to work and I walked to her desk and I snatched up the drawing to prove her wrong! That my drawing clearly did not display a reindeer with a hoof grabbing its balls! I was wrong and I never heard the end of it. Not from the Princess and certainly not from our good friend Rosencrantz.

A Birthday in Ruins

Yesterday the Princess said that I ruined her birthday because I didn't bring her a sonic blast after lunch. It should be known that a sonic blast was never requested and I was just expected to know that she wanted one based on her track record of constantly wanting a sonic blast.

Fatigue

I was very tired at lunch and I asked the Princess if I could take a nap on her and she immediately became upset and said, "NO! Don't you ever even ask me that again."

Olfactory

Yesterday the Princess snuck up behind me while I was working and asked me if I was wearing "Butt Cologne". The implication being that I smelled so bad, it was as if I had doused myself with the fragrance of an arse. Though I shower regularly and use effective deodorant, the false accusation rendered me both speechless and embarrassed.

Rescuing Language

Over time certain words or phrases that were at one time popular will drift away. A great amount of time will pass, and the word will lay dormant underneath the parlance of our times. And then, when you are on the verge of forgetting it completely, someone will wander along and use the word. They inadvertently rescue the word for you. They dust off the shelves of our memory. Today the princess called me a "dill hole".

Christmas is Coming

I was on hold with a bus comapany today for quite some time. Their automated system played several Christmas songs. One of them was Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas in which the lyrics say "make the yule tide gay".

I told the princess that I was going to "make the yule tide gay" and she said, "that's not all you're making gay."