Why I Need A Loris

My latest obsession thanks to my dear friend, is the slow loris.  I have decided I really need one.  Unfortunately, I have encountered many obstacles on my quest to obtain one, including the fact that it's now apparently illegal to own one. 

This is my formal rebuttal to the Committee Who Won't Let Me Have A Loris.

WHY I WANT/SHOULD BE ABLE TO GET A LORIS:

1.  They're really cute.

Just.  Look.  At.  That.  Face.  If that doesn't melt your heart, you have no soul.  And yes, the second picture is a finger that the loris is gripping.  SO CUTE.  Look at those big round eyes!  Those tiny ears!  The fingers!  Ahhhh!!!  Cute overload for suresies.  I need one.  How cool would that be???  "Ohhh, what's that?  You just got a new puppy?  Well that's cool.  But I just got a freakin' LORIS."  WIN.

2.  They like to party.

You can tell by the dollar signs where the s's should be.

And I, also like to party.  Look at these guys!  They love to be tickled , they love to hold tiny umbrellas , what's not to love?  I think we would be bff's for sure.  I even have a tentative name picked out:  Mr. Loris.  I would take Mr. Loris to the store on my shoulder, and we would laugh together and pick out Lucky Charms instead of Wheaties.  I would give him all the tiny umbrellas he could handle and I would tickle him into oblivion.  I want to party with Mr. Loris.

<--- Me + Mr. Loris + Tiny Umbrella = :)

2.  I would build their self esteem.

The name of this animal is the "slow loris."  That's...so sad.  And if that's not a kick in the balls to their ego, I don't know what is.  It's like natural selection didn't even given them a chance.  They are slow by design, and obviously, this is why they're endangered.  Predators probably also know they are "slow." 

If I had a loris, I would spend time with him doing self esteem building exercises.  I would tell him it is doesn't matter what the other animals think, I love him and he is not slow to me.  And then I would give him a tiny umbrella.

3.  Mr. Loris and my kittens would be really good friends.

I can picture it now.  I come home from a long day of work, and Mr. Loris is curled up right between Special Cat and Large Cat.  They would make one giant pile of cuteness.  And they could keep each other company while I'm at work.  It would be an animal party...every day.  Who wouldn't want that?

I really, really, really, really want a loris. 

MY REBUTTAL FOR THE REASONS I SHOULDN'T/CAN'T GET A LORIS 8:(

1.  They're endangered. 

Who isn't endangered these days?  Come on.  This is all the more reason to let me have one.  I am well versed in raising multiple puppies, kittens, gerbils and reptiles.  In conclusion, the obvious next step is to add nocturnal primate to this list. 

Mr. Loris would be so well cared for in my hands, he wouldn't even remember he was endangered.  Also, if he is really nice, I will find him a Mrs. Loris and they can have loris children which can then be released into the wild and grow the loris population and catapult them out of being endangered.  I don't know why no one has ever suggested this before, but I'm here now, so it's ok.

2.  They lick their own elbows in order to deliver a toxic bite.

Alright look, who doesn't get a little pissy every now and then?  Who doesn't want to deliver a toxic bite to their enemies?  I think the loris is very brave for standing up for himself, and humans are just jealous because they don't have venom in their elbows. 

And  maybe this is like the loris' version of PMS.  And maybe all he really needs is some chocolate.  And if not?  I will just need to train Mr. Loris not to do this.  And he will oblige.  Because he loves me.

3.  This bite can cause severe to fatal anaphylactic shock. 

SEVERE to fatal.  (So you're saying there's a chance?)  Obviously, Mr. Loris will be way too cute to be the fatal kind.  And again, with love, training, and chocolate to subdue the PMS, I think anaphylactic shock is out of the question.

4.  They urinate everywhere.

Ok, so what does everywhere mean?  I think we all know how to deal with a little bit of urine.  My solution to this, aside from knowing that Mr. Loris would be way too cool to do this, would obviously be to have Loris Diapers made.  The benefits of this would be two fold:

• It would contain the urine
• It would probably be really cute.

Problem Solved.  Next.


5.  They're really cute.

Maybe this isn't so much a reason why I can't have one, but I feel that it deserves a second mention.  Because I should be able to get one.

He obviously needs a hug.  And I know where he can get one.

Creepy Old Guys Love Me

I tend to attract a lot of creepy (and usually old) guys at my job.  It must have something to do with the fact that I'm a female, under 40, appear to be single sitting alone at my desk, and am not completely hideous.

In case you aren't aware, I work in the office at an apartment complex and run about 400 units. 

Seriously.  It happens all the time, and it's always the creepers.  It's kind of an inside joke at my office.  I have one guy that knows my schedule and comes in or calls almost every day under the guise that he needs something apartment related, only to chat about music/life/etc., and as nicely as I can I have to constantly find different ways to remove myself from the conversation. 

Here is my most recent interaction.

A guy came into my office looking for a 1 bedroom.  We'll call him Jim.  Because that's his name.  As I began to help him, he explained that the apartment was for him and his girlfriend.  So naturally, as I am explaining the rental process to him I explained that his girlfriend would need to come in to fill out some paperwork as well. 

A few minutes into this, he says, "Well, she's not really my girlfriend."

...

Red Flag #1.  ...Because he just got finished telling me that he would be living with his girlfriend.

Anyway, he was kind of (I say kind of because I usually don't catch onto the fact that a guy is flirting with me) flirting with me.  Of course I chose to ignore it. 

He's 60, by the way.  Yep.  Born in 1951- I just checked.

He was asking me what I was doing on my weekend, and feeling uncomfortable I said a really stupid thing: 

"I'm not sure.  The world is my oyster."

This isn't stupid because I shouldn't have said it, it's just a really stupid phrase.  Which speaks to how uncomfortable and awkward this was.  I forget what he said exactly, but he made some kind of comment and thought it was hilarious.  Which is odd, because it's in no way funny. 

I sent him this email in order to get the ball rolling with the rental:


Hi Jim,

Go ahead and have Carol (GIRLFRIEND) sign these 3 forms and fill out the app and send everything back to me along with her photo ID.
Thanks!

Morgan


Short and sweet.  And this is what I get in response.


morgan your wish is my command, lol see you this afternoon.　　 you r sweet.


So....awesome. i m sweet.  This might be something I would have expected from a 12 year old girl via text, but not from a 60 year old man during a business transaction via email.  Of course I didn't respond.  To Red Flag #2.  And of course,  I immediately forwarded the hilarious email to my boyfriend. 

And then it was my weekend.  So I had 2 days to make the world my oyster.  When I came back into work, I came back to this:


Welcome back from your Days off Morgan.　 Hoping my email catches you bright eyed and rested.　 Once you hunker down you should find everything you requested has been faxed on over too you.　 because friday the 18 th seems to be sneaking up on us rather quickly.　 I would like you to keep me　 informed as to when　 our application has been approved and were set to proceed to moving in on friday.　 Hopefully this will not create any undue stress on you. been thinkin bout the world is your oster comment the other day.　 I like that thanks for your help you been great. Jim 

 Seems friendly enough, but freaking weird and creepy.  And I cut and pasted these emails so these are exactly what they said.  I responded to his email:

Hi Jim,

　

I tried to call you but was unable to get through.　 I ran your credit and everything looks good.　 Tomorrow I will need you both here to sign the lease.　 Make sure to bring renter’s insurance and your account numbers.　 If you have any questions let me know, and let me know what time you plan to come in tomorrow so I can be here.

　

Thanks!

Morgan

Short.  Sweet.  NORMAL.  To the point.  And business appropriate.  Though I thought that was pretty clear and didn't warrant another email other than possibly a time when he would arrive, I received this:


hi Morgan how were your days off? got yout messageabout everythingbeing good soI guess look for us around noon tommorrow.　 Regarding the apt. insurance the agent said he was going to fax you acopy of the policy.　 All the other numbers that you requested were included in the applications.　 Many thanks again hoping to see you soon. stiill thinking bout the world being your osyter.　 does that as well make you a peril diver. teasing!　

I assume he meant "pearl" diver.  And "oyster."  Although I had never mentioned the oyster comment since my original outburst, he did not seem to be able to let it go.  I did not respond to the email and awaited his arrival for his move in.

The move-in went pretty smoothly, with surprisingly little awkwardness, except when he made another comment about the "oyster comment" and asked me what I did on my days off. 

So now he had moved in.  Unfortunately, he lives right in front of the leasing office.  Literally.  I can pretty much see his apartment from where I am sitting right now.

So one day last week he came into the office.  And here are the events that transpired:

Him:  Do I have to tell you if I got a pet?

Me: (Since I deal with this so regularly and it actually is an issue) Yes, what kind?  We actually don't allow dogs in your building.

Him:  It's a cat.

Me:  Oh ok, that's no problem.  We do have to get you to fill out this form and it's an extra deposit of blah blah blah....

Him:  It's wooden.

Me:  ...I'm sorry, what?

Him:  My cat.  It's wooden.

Me:  ...Ok.....um....

Him:  I figured I had to tell you if I got a pet.

Me:  Well, yes, but you don't have to tell me if you get a piece of wood...

Him:  Would you like to see it?

Me:  No I don't think so....

At this point my coworker is cracking up and she tells him to bring it in. 

A few minutes later I wandered out from the back of the office back to my desk, and he is sitting there, with his wooden cat sitting in the middle of my desk.  And it's got a leash on.

Let's just say for all intents and purposes it looked like this:

It didn't though.  It was way more awkward, and kind of looked like a table with a cat's face painted on the edge.  And it really had a leash on.  In case it ran away? 

So I pretended to laugh, and a little part of me died that day.

And that's what I deal with at my job.  Wooden cats.  And creepy men.  Hooray.

Drink Boulder 2010

Last January my friend Laurel and I started visiting our high school friend Susan in Boulder, Colorado. 

This is the story of the most alcohol I have ever consumed in a day.  Arguably.  Well at least until Beerfest.

Laurel and I hadn't really planned the trip out, but we did bring snowboarding clothes and prepared for at least 1 day - of a 3 day trip - of skiing/boarding/something.

Well that never happened.

And here's why.

I'll begin by explaining to those of you who don't already know that I am a textbook lightweight.  That's probably even an understatement.  My boyfriend used to think I was exaggerating, but now he knows: I just get really drunk, really easily.  Generally after a beer and a half, I'm feeling pretty good.

Susan was finishing up school in Colorado and Laurel and I had the morning to ourselves to explore the city.  Per Susan's suggestion, we headed down to Pearl Street.

We walked around and shopped for a bit. 

Now, I love to shop.  Seriously.  LOVE shopping.  Cannot get enough it.  However, on this particular day, none of the shops we perused seemed to be particularly interesting to me, or Laurel for that matter. 

We didn't really know what to do because we still had a few hours to kill before meeting up with Susan.

Until Laurel turned to me:  "Wanna just go get drunk?"

Me:  "YES!"

It was 11:30 A.M.

So we went to our first stop.  It was early, so Laurel got a beer and I (I was still not drinking beer at this point in my life - this has changed) got a vodka orange juice of some sort.  Susan met up with us for drink number 2.

We talked about what to do for the rest of the day.  Susan had a couple of suggestions, but her last suggestion is the one that we ran with:

"...Or we could just keep drinking?"

And thus, Drink Boulder 2010 had begun.  And we proceeded to make it our mission to get completely drunk.

By this point, I'm already drunk.  In all fairness I had had 2 drinks.

After the screwdrivers, Susan took us to a small Mexican restaurant that was known for its really strong margaritas.  Apparently, they only allow you to order 2 drinks per person because they are so strong.  I actually only had 1 at this destination.  And we were on our way.

Drink Count: 3
Types of Alcohol: 2

Apparently, Pearl Street is where many metal animals call home.  So Laurel and I (at Susan's suggestion, of course) decided to get involved.

We posed with every metal animal we could find, gathering confused stares from passers by.

And then we came to the majestic elk:

Yeah, that small round sign says something to the effect of, "Please don't ride the elk."  But we were drunk and obviously didn't care, or read the sign prior to mounting it.

After the animals, we moved on to our next destination, but not before making complete fools of ourselves on the streets and trying to figure out how to get to "Club Nitro," the strip club that we said we would come back for later that night. 

Everything from this point on is pretty hazy, but the next place we went was somewhere where I ordered 2 mojitos.

Here is us after the mojitos.

Drink Count: 5

Types of Alcohol: 3

By this point, it was getting close to the time that Susan had planned for us to go meet up with some of her friends from school for dinner. 

And God bless Pearl Street, because everything was in walking distance.  So we stumbled over to a place called the Med (I think?).

Here we ordered pint glasses of sangria. 

Drink Count: 6

Types of Alcohol: 4

The fact that the elevation was about to set in, and I had already mixed 4 different kinds of alcohol, was nowhere on my mind.

And so at this point, I ventured *by myself* to the bar, because I didn't think I was drunk enough, and wanted to get that way.

So I ordered 2 tequila shots.

And took both of them...

And then took this picture.  (Nooo...I don't look drunk at all....right?)

Drink Count: 8

Types of Alcohol: 5

Let's just say after that I was drunk enough.  But far from finished.

After dinner we ended up at Susan's friend's house in order to charge her phone to meet up with our next group of drinking buddies.

Her friend didn't know we were coming, but lived around the corner.  So when she opened the door to 4 or 5 drunk assholes and said, "Ok, you either want water, or more booze."

Of course, we all said "MORE BOOZE!"

Her and her boyfriend then proceeded to make us drinks called "Corpse Revivers." 

Now if you don't know what those are, and I didn't, I'll just tell you there is gin and absinthe involved.  And I had 2.

Drink Count: 10

Types of Alcohol: 7

I think I'm the only one who looks completely hammered in this picture.  Because I was...completely hammered.  There is an awesome picture somewhere on a cell phone of me passed out in a computer chair in this apartment.

So at this point, you would probably think, "Ok girls, night's over."  (It was probably about 11:30 to give you a time reference.)

But it wasn't over.

Because we actually went to the strip club we had joked about earlier. 

For some reason, I did not drink at this location, but I know my friends did.  And after tipping strippers an absurd amount of one dollar bills, we stumbled out of the strip club.

It was now probably 1 in the morning, and instead of going home, we went to another bar.  Here, I thought it would be funny to see if I could get a guy to buy me a drink (dumb, I know, but I was very drunk). 

It was a great success, and he handed me a shot of something.  I was too drunk at this point to care what it was, so I threw it back. 

...Only to discover that it was Rumplemintz. 100 proof, Rumplemintz.

Drink Count: 11

Types of Alcohol: 8

And goodnight Morgan.

Then the guys that bought me drinks handed me a beer.  Again, at this point in my life I hated beer. 

Hated it.

But I was so drunk that I drank it.  Which is confusing...

FINAL TALLY:

Drink Count: 12
Types of Alcohol: 9

So that was it.  We stumbled out of the bar around 2 in the morning.  And then we passed the elk again.  And Susan and I rode it.

And then walked to the car, extremely drunk.

And then she told me to hump this truck, and I did.  Because I was drunk.  And she could have pretty much told me to do anything and I probably would have done it. 

Except eat sushi.  I hate sushi.

Miraculously, none of us got sick.  Laurel passed out with her clothes still on.  And we all woke up the next morning with the worst hang over any of us had ever had.  (Later to be surpassed, for me at least, by Beerfest.)

"We're not going snowboarding."  Is pretty much all I could muster to tell Laurel when she finally woke up.

This was a chalkboard in one of the bathrooms where we decided that we had created a festival, and our goal was to drink all of Boulder.  And that we would make this a tradition of sorts...(this was before the hangover) which we did that September via Beerfest. 



So there will probably be a Beerfest post in the near future, because that was nuts.  Also.

And tonight, Susan is in town.  And her and Laurel and I are going to cause some mischief somewhere.  Woot.