Bats in the belfry

Someone actually arrived at our site by searching for “what’s good about November.” Well, I swan. Someone also arrived by looking for “anal scrabble,” which is frankly more plausible to me than something being good about November. Here, a proud listing of how much I hate November:

November 2, 2005 ,”This Also Just In

It’s November, Charlie Brown. Outside forces continue to vex, astound. Inside forces also unfavorable.

October 31, 2007, “Handwashing is Key,” wherein we establish that while October sucks, November is worse.

October is bungled logistics and petty grievances and the horror of taking a shower every day. October secretly arranged to go out to lunch with your Saturn Return and talk about you, and then they strike up a friendship born of shared distaste for you and stay up late on the phone, planning new pranks.

November 1, 2007, Now I Know How Joan of Arc Felt

Allrighty, what’s good about November? [ed.- I’ll be darned, we tried!] How psyched are you for November? Guy Fawkes day!!!!!! That is in November. Thanksgiving is in November, and that’s generally fun if you put aside historical context and all. I make a mean quinoa pilaf. Veteran’s Day, well, that could be a downer. Depends on who you ask. Halloween candy on sale? Don’t need that and would not want to catch obesity from looking at it funny either. Christmas decorations will slowly start to become more contextually appropriate. I think we should just neatly excise October and November from the calendar. Halloween can be moved to September, right after my 25th birthday. The Vomitola calendar is awesome. St. Croix’s Day is a real day! So is “everyone’s attractive” day! Except that is not really true. We just pretend and feel better.

November 9, 2007, “That the night come

Take that, NO!vember. I am going to get on a plane and go somewhere…five to ten degrees warmer than here. Yes, well played, me. Well played! The only catch is that I am going with a ybab, and I have to decide whether to strap her to my back and carry the carseat while carrying the bag on my head, or strap the carseat to my back while dragging her on a leash attached to a cute animal backpack, or perhaps check her at the curb and pay someone to push me along in a Smarte Carte (“we’re the carts at the airport and a whole lot more…” More! I like that. OMINOUS).

Whoa, clearly winter 2007-08 was a rough one. Why didn’t someone just stick me on a treadmill in front of a happy lite watching a DVD of Caribbean waves for the whole month of November? Why don’t gyms have that set-up, anyway? I will do it and make a killing. With optional lead apron rental.

3 responses to “Bats in the belfry”

  1. WAIT! It’s not “eat me at the altar?” I have to rethink my reading of this song. ATTACK! Scuse me while I kiss this guy.

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