I Have A Lot Of Good Ideas. A Lot. And They're Good.

The Party is often doubtful of my ideas and theories and plans.  And by doubtful, I mean incredulous, troubled and alarmed.  Not usually all at the same time (there was that ice chopper/car incident, but we don't need to go back over that).  The Party does not heart fun the way I do and sometimes doesn't always appreciate the fun and brilliance in my plans.

See, Braille allows Helen
to read and smell flowers
at the same time.

My most recent idea was completely excellent and the only thing really holding me back is that it would require some work on my part.  But otherwise, it was brilliant.  Learn Braille so I can read in the dark.  There are myriad benefits to this plan.  One, it would be extremely cool to tell people I know Braille.  Two, it would help me in my portrayal of a blind person reading if any kind of Helen Keller/Anne Sullivan telemovie gets made (ditto any remakes of Little House in the episodes after Mary goes blind).  Three, I could read with my eyes closed, which would allow me to rest my eyes, but still read.  Four, and this is what started the whole thing because I was trying to be nice, I wouldn't bother The Party when he was sleeping.


The other night I wanted to read in bed, but Party had already gone to sleep.  I have a little light right above my part of the bed, but I always worry it will bother him.  So, I don't turn on the light and I don't read.  Once I got into bed, Party sort of woke up (probably because I had to wrestle one of the 4 pillows away from him so I could at least have one) and said something.  I don't remember what it was, but I recall it was a little crabby.  I told him my Braille plan.  He was not even the least little bit appreciative of the effort I was making to be considerate.  I mean, if I didn't care about him and his sleep, I could just turn on lights whenever I want and I wouldn't even have to learn Braille.  The Party woke up enough to stare at me and ask who even thinks of stuff like that.  And, he says it like it's not an awesome idea!


You would think he would be more receptive of my ideas since the last time he poo-pooed one of them we lost millions (I don't know if it was really millions, but it was more than zero, which is what we got).  Several years ago, I was lamenting that at cocktail-type parties it's hard to hold your drink and a little plate of food and still eat.  You need an extra hand.  I came up with a plate (designs and all) that would have a hole in it that you could fit your drink in; the plate would hold food and a drink.  I designed one for wine glasses and one for regular glasses/cups.  Because my idea was not inside the box (where Party is comfy) Party did not rush right out and do tons of research and get my plates manufactured.  Clearly, he had lost track of the fact that I am about the ideas.  I am management, not labor.  Fast forward a few years, I see an entire collection, like I envisioned, at Target.  I have since seen similar ones elsewhere as well.  I am still waiting on my "You were right."


In case my two examples are not showing you how I am using my powers for good, here are some examples of bad ideas, which clearly highlight how good mine are:

I am not really feeling those
eyebrows too much either.

1.  Adam Lambert thinking that his impersonation of the Heat Miser makes him look sexy.  Whistle.  He always looks to me like he is playing the part of gay, cutting edge, glam rocker, rather than actually being that guy.  Oh - and if you are not seeing Heat Miser, then perhaps you can remember the Flow-be haircutting machine.  Lambert's hair looks like what the machine does to your hair before it gets cut off.


2.  Chicken Pox lollipops.  Yes, you read that correctly.  We will give that a whistle.  And smack.  And big giant buzz (make a loud ehhhhhhhh noise in your head).  You really have to go read this.  "Let's try this sentence on for size: I just gave my kid a pre-licked lollipop sent to me by a stranger I met on the internet!."  This totally skeeved me out, so I know all my germaphobe friends are DYING and rubbing sanitizer on their hands (and/or entire bodies) while they are reading it. 


3.  New Coke, pajama jeans, Epilady, toupees.