Monday, September 23, 2013

Left Field probably started memes.

You know that phrase "it came out of left field"? I like to imagine Left Field as the name of a warehouse containing all of the bizarre things that life throws at me. Left Field is run by a techy dude who could be Rivers Cuomo's doppelganger--because let's be honest, most male characters in my mind end up looking like the lead singer of Weezer at one point or another--who chucks stuff into a liquid portal, masquerading as a brick wall, which leads straight into my life. Sometimes Forrest (That's Rivers's doppelganger's name) sprinkles some words into the mouth of my son like this Sunday in church: 

Gavin (5yo): Mom, I think I have a crush on Ryker (neighbor boy).
Me: Really?
Gavin: Wait. What's a crush?
Me: Um...(how to explain this to a 5yo?)'s when you like someone a lot and maybe want to marry them someday.
Gavin: Oh. Then, never mind. I don't have that. I have a crush, like I want to wrestle him.
Me: Like you want to crush him?
Gavin: Yeah.
Me: No crushing on Sunday.

Sometimes, Forrest chucks a cat underneath my car, which I then drag, unawares, under my car for a quarter-mile on the interstate until someone in a duly motions for me to pull over to save the cat. (Spoiler: the cat lived and actually sprinted off into the residential neighborhood beyond the interstate.)

Sometimes, Forrest hijacks the web, leaving me an email with a random song from my past. "Usa la forca, Luke."

Sometimes, Forrest pours Left Field inventory into my subconscious, and I get a weird dream so real that my skin doesn't feel like mine in the morning. (Could be that I watched Alien last night.)

Sometimes, it's not Forrest at all, and I'm the architect of my own randomness, like in this conversation with my friend D.

  • Me: We still on for 6 tonight?

  • D: Heck yes. I mean: conservative cool response

  • Me: lol
    PS. I found a jamba coupon! Buy one get one for a dollar, and it expires tomorrow. That my friend is FATE.The stars have aligned.

  • D: Ah the glorious, glorious coupon gods have surely smiled upon thee!

  • Me: Yes. With their tridents made of sale papers and crown of 2 for 1 cans of tuna.

  • D: And so shall shine forth the rays of a coupon scanner, all red and crossed!

    Me: Leaving a dollar sign stigmata on the breast of its patrons.
  • D: Oh, praises that will be sung! Truly, your tale shall live on through all ages.
  • Me: Erect the statues.
  • D: Establish feasts!
  • Me: Fashion a plaque that states, "Hail the Coupon Queen" written in blood.
  • Virgin blood.

  • D: I know a good donor.

  • Me: lol.

  • D: Good times.

Sidebar: If I do end up developing this Left Field thing into a story, one ironic part will be that Forrest doesn't know anything about baseball.

What has Left Field tossed at you lately?

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