The first rule of pillow fight club is to NOT talk about pillow fight club. The second rule of pillow fight club is to NOT talk about pillow fight club. The third rule ……. you get it. You are smart. Or you wouldn’t be able to read this blog because it is written at the 6th grade level.
Today I got my ass handed to me by a 2 year old, a 4 year old, a 7 year old, a 14 year old and a bunch of writers. Maybe that is why I am staying home nursing my ego. Or it could be staying out dancing with the drag queens at Neighbors on Thursday and then having a weirdo contest with my friend B at The Buck on Friday, but I am kicked. I just rewrote my to do list for the day, canceled any evening events and penciled in “fold clothes”. That is how I party! Oh yeah. Gonna watch X Files reruns and eat some soup tonight – top that Church of Mez! (I know you can and this is not a challenge. By the time you read this, I will be in bed sleeping on my kind of icky pillow from the pillow fight today and dreaming of my dream job or how I can rent a steam cleaner.)
This morning, my best HR buddy of mine, Noelle, and I went for a walk and hit the farmer’s market. Noelle gets into the best friend circle (Dante’s 4th circle of hell) because she lived with me for 5 years. We were both HR folks, so we created a behaviorally based interview process for new roommates to share our house. Behavior based interview questions rely on the premise that past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior. So we had questions like “tell me about a time you weren’t able to pay the bills. How did you handle it?” instead of “what are we supposed to do when you can’t pay the bills like every other roommate we ever had?” It works in work, but it doesn’t work in roommates. We went through one a year, they had to be men because we thought two women was enough in one house and only survived each other because we are both only children so like to squirrel away and have conversations with ourselves for hours. (It is what happens when you don’t have anyone to play with, you create a vivid inner world – mine involved a lot of talking cats and flying over the ocean.)
One roommate used to come home stoned and cook beans and when I would wake up for work in the morning, there would be food on the ceiling. I have no idea how anyone could even accomplish that, but we wound up just painting over it after we moved out. Another took all the light bulbs and screwed the light fixtures back in, so when I went to show the upstairs room, the lights didn’t come on. I called an electrician and our landlord and they discovered the problem. A third had a room so messy that after the earthquake in 2001, I went to check on his things because we had some damage and thought his room had been destroyed. I found cans of tuna and socks all over along with a bunch of Kleenex and didn’t ask any more questions. The last one filled the washer with packing peanuts and the dryer with used motor oil. Do not hire me to pick your roommates. To be fair, it was the 90’s, maybe that is just how things went down in cat town back in the day.
I headed up to my friend Dave B’s house to return a plate I had borrowed and to bring the kids some cookies. Dave has been a friend from high school and I am thrilled to still be able to hang with him and talk about the good old days. The cookies set off a riot – there was crying, screaming, jumping off counters, trying to ride the dog, and that was all Dave. Not really, he is really awesome with the kids, but they had obviously had their sugar for the day and were shoving carrots up their noses, throwing bananas, and changing into superhero costumes every 5 minutes. It was exhausting. And I am covered in snot carrots, banana pieces, something that may or may not be part of a hot dog, and dog slobber.
BUT, this is no time for wimps because I have to pick up Joy for Pillow Fight 2011! Yeah! I am going to beat the crap out of my friends and total strangers while being filmed by KOMO. I didn’t know about the KOMO part or I would have worn a better outfit.
Joy is the most luminescent person I know. She glows with light. And she wears a lot of sparkly shit, but her soul is beautiful. So when a 25 Chilean lead singer of a Nirvana tribute band from Santiago showed up looking for a someone she had arranged to couch surf with at Joy's apartment building, who, oops!, went to Buenos Aires and forgot to leave the key. Joy stepped in and offered lodging. OK, we had a full crew for the fight plus a new visitor who is really into grunge – how awesome could this day be?
Wait, before you answer that question, please remember I live in Seattle. It was raining and hailing. We met about 15 friends and headed down the street to the pillow fight place carrying pillows. We looked like hooligans (some more than others) that were going to settle down for a collective nap and stick it to the man. I love my friends. We arrived to find the PF going in full force. I jumped in and started hitting people all punk rock mosh pit style when I met my nemesis – a 14 year old with two pillows and mean one-two punch. He got me good several times, so I bowed out for a breather. I ran into one of my colleagues there who, after catching up, showed me who his kid was. It was the freaking Karate Kid and he had seriously messed me up. I told my former colleague (whom I had hired) that he better control his kid or something nasty would turn up in his personnel file. I don’t care how many PhDs you have, call the kid off!
Went back in with a battle cry to find the love of my life (besides my Nikon) in the form of a 7 year old boy hell bent on making me pay for ratting him out for chucking pears at the neighbors house. I was so busted. I tried to get my friend Piet to save me (because he is like 6 foot gazillion) but he didn’t want to hit a kid. So I tried Lauren (who is the most kick ass pillow fighter in Seattle and my new best friend - sorry, Noelle!), but she was no match for this 65 pound hunk of pillow swinging madness. I tried to grab his pillow, enlist other help, run, cry, block, hide behind other people, stick small defenseless children in front of me as human shields – but he was relentless! I must have beat him at Pokemon or something. LR – you got it coming, better watch your back.....
After, we went to Eric’s house to unwind. But Eric was wound. He kept changing outfits like Dave’s 4 year old. He finally wound up with rabid squirrel outfit (everyone I know has a dress up box - mine is full of weird hats and a lot of tutus) and was trying to communicate with us through chirping. We decided to have a poetry reading and my ass was so handed to me by the most erudite poets and writers I have encountered in years. I am going to need my day job, because I don’t measure up. Stan, Eric, Lauren, Jenny – you guys kick ass.
I'm exhausted just reading this. Too funny, so you...
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