What to do in the winter?

After the first year or so of living in Springfield for college, I started to stick up for this city. It has a lot going for it. Namely, great food. But other things too! There’s the Nature Center, the Japanese Stroll Garden, lots of parks, a mall, movie theaters (including a great independent theater), a bar scene, an ice skating rink, and as we all know—lots of squirrel-watching opportunities. Am I missing anything?

As the weather starts to get colder, I’m feeling cooped up (I hope you took advantage of the beautiful weather today!). It’s usually too nasty outside to warrant a hike at the Nature Center, and the squirrels are all hiding in their nests. By the way, if you didn’t know that squirrels live in nests, you need to check it out. It’s totally adorable.

My fellow Springfieldians, what do you do for fun during the winter months? Do you succumb to staying inside, or is there a wintertime Springfield gem that I’m missing? I tried eating brownies to make the boredom go away, but I’ve now exhausted my supply of cocoa.

What are your favorite spots in this city?

Story Time

Thanks again for your support, friends. I promised to write a story about anyone who commented on the last Humor Her post, but since it’s a new year and I’m feeling generous, I’m going to go ahead and write stories for anyone who either commented on the post or liked the update on Facebook. Sorry if you didn’t want a story. You’re getting one anyway.

Renee: Back in 1938, when I first arrived in France, I met a girl named Renee. I saw just a glimpse of her face as she left the pâtisserie, but it was enough for me to follow her to the 8^th arrondissement. She paused outside of Ladurée, and I introduced myself by recommending the lavender macarons.

Rebecca: She sprinted for the alley, where she knew she could throw them off, but she stumbled and when she turned around she saw the glint of the knife. “Didn’t think you’d get away that easy, did—what the—” The fat cat flew out of the dumpster and landed at Rebecca’s feet: “Gentlemen, you’ve messed with the wrong feline fanatic,” he hissed.

Jimmy: He could feel his heart beating through his chest and hoped he was the only one. “Endocrine—e-n-d-o-c-r-i-n-e—endocrine.” The crowd cheered for the child prodigy’s victory, but his little heart couldn’t take it and he fainted right on the stage.

Ally: Ally came home cradling a turtle and wearing what looked like a full bouquet of daisies in her hair. “That thing belongs outside!” her mother screamed. Ally looked down at the turtle and said quietly, “he just looked lonely.”

Kevin: Raised by wolves, the boy had developed a remarkable set of curly chest hairs by the time he was seven. His furry snout and smelly bum had helped him fit in with the pack, initially. But by the time he turned fourteen the pack could no long stand his stench, and he was left alone to ward off the cougars.

Well, there you are, my pals. These weren’t meant to be a reflection of your personalities or my feelings for you—just silly stories for you to enjoy. Don’t want anyone thinking Rebecca gets chased by thugs on a regular basis. Thanks again! 

Merci, Mes Amis

Friends,

My friend Rebecca, who runs a wonderful blog about all-things Springfield, recently put me in touch with the editor of Springfield Lifestyle Magazine. And I’m excited to say that Humor Her will be featured in the next issue! The “Who’s Blogging” section of Springfield Lifestyle Magazine features local bloggers, how they got their start, and some of their favorite places in Springfield.

I can’t thank you all enough for your readership and support. I’m incredibly happy to be sharing my ridiculous everyday stories on this blog, and I hope I’m entertaining you along the way. You all deserve a million hugs and a gazillion chocolate chip cookies. And since sending you cookies in the mail probably isn’t considered safe, I’m going to show my thanks in words. If you comment on this post, I’ll write a three-sentence story about you for an upcoming post. And I won’t disappoint.

You rock.  

Bistro Market Fail

I like people. You probably wouldn’t know it if you met me at a party (chances of that are already slim), because I’d be sitting in a chair, eating cheese and interacting with no one. But, generally speaking, I do like people. I think they’re fun and interesting. And most of them are nice. But sometimes, something happens and the cynic in me starts to ooze out of my pores, turning me into a misanthropic, anti-social, brooding bitch.

Usually, it happens after I’ve done something embarrassing in front of a whole bunch of people. At first, I get upset with myself for doing something humiliating, but in the end I blame the other people for being present during my public misfortune.

A few weeks ago at work, we were getting ready to entertain some clients. On my lunch break I volunteered to go pick up some Goldfish, cheese, and other miscellaneous snacks for their stay. The closest place to pick up groceries is the Bistro Market downtown. I park, pick up a half-size shopping cart (the only size available) and finish my aisle rounds. Nothing too embarrassing yet.

After I’m done paying, I start to roll out of the market with my cart full of goodies. The automatic door opens and BAM, my cart spills forward, and I tumble over it, falling into a pile of Gruyère and Aquafina.

[Stares into the market briefly, begging (with her eyes) for someone to come to her aid]

“Oh my god, oh my god.” (mumbling to the cheese)

[Gets up and tries to put everything back while the automatic door REPEATEDLY HITS THE CART]

“Stop it, stop it.” [Trying to fight off automatic door]

[Finally, an elderly man comes over to offer his assistance]

Elderly man: “Well that sucked, didn’t it?”

Me: “Yes. Yes, it did. Thank you.”

[Walks back to car with cart, giving the stink eye to everyone who didn’t offer to help her] “Bunch of jerks.”

You know why no one helps people in embarrassing situations? Because they’re usually pretty damn funny to watch from the outside. In fact, the worst part about this story is that a week prior to this event, I had been sitting in the restaurant across from the Bistro Market, seen a woman fall on her back while she struggled to save her iced coffee, and tried desperately to stifle my laughter.

People are wonderful because they do hilarious things. People are awful because they sit idly by while hilarious (but unfortunate) things happen to others.