Posted by noa on November 5, 2000, at 10:53:40
In reply to Re: Hasty Retreat to Lumptonia, posted by coral on November 5, 2000, at 8:41:44
Diversity having been mentioned by Mr. Ambassador, let me confide to my compatriots that I am, alas, only half Lump, on my father's side. But, fear not, my lineage on my mother's side is from a close ally. Yes, that's right. I am a Blob on my mother's side.
Blobs share many of our treasured traits, though, perhaps blobism is a tad more portable out into the world beyond the cave/lair/couch. I believe it is the blob in me that spaces out in front of the computer screen, playing endless hours of minesweeper, solitaire, etc. And, perhaps it is the blob that manages to get out to buy a cup of coffee, but in traditional dress, of course, which can consist of any combination of the following: reworn socks; underwear hastily washed before bed in the sink, and dried on the bathroom radiator in winter or, if the heat is off, with a hairdryer upon rising in the morning; wilted slacks and shirt, not quite "dirty" but certainly not fresh, and, preferably, rather wrinkled from being stored haphazardly on the floor in an amorphous mound of mixed clean and dirty clothing, and preferable only minimally coordinated. Hair, of course, is either wet or unwashed as there is no way that one can dry both one's underwear and one's hair, and if one does not have to dry one's underwear because the radiator is warm, one is certainly not going to make the effort to dry one's hair if one doesn't have to. Blobs also have the characteristic automobile decor: ever-present mound of stuff and trash on the passenger side floor and seat.
One of the hallmarks of blob behavior surrounds the commute home from work. First, there is the question: do I have anything to eat at home? Next comes the inner battle--I can't stop off to get something, no way, vs. but there is nothing to eat, you have to stop off to get something. This is followed by the bargaining stage, which entails desparate attempts to concoct a solution to the conflict. The result can be the decision to order pizza, combined with a plan to dip into the can of Nestle powder, or can result in one stop to the smallest, least busy food store en route, but when this happens, there must be a fair amount of "psyching up" in order to actually get out of the car. A similar process happens when there are no paper products of any kind in the home, and toilet paper must be sought out. Such scenarios become much more complicated when the "Low Fuel" light on the dashboard has been lit for more than 4 days. Often, this situation results in a stop to the gas station/mini-mart where one purchases potato chips and candy for dinner while refueling.
However, even if there is a stop on the way, there is usually the required slow-motion attempt to get oneself out of the driver's seat, accompanied by Ritual of the Sighs, of course.
But, finally, when I arrive home, I am able to express the lump side of me once again, and I am drawn like a magnet to that well-worn spot on the couch (the other spots on the couch are full of junk anyway). To arrive at this spot, I have to wind my way through the characteristic obstacle course of stuff-dropped-wherever-I-was-standing that covers most of the floor between the door and the couch.
poster:noa
thread:1864
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20001031/msgs/2115.html