I bet that title totally hooked you, right? You're all "Please Miss Yvonne, tell me the story of the Red-Eyed Emo!" and you're all blinky and smiley with your chin resting in your hand and I'm all "Again? Now listen little missy/mister, I'm a very busy lady and I don't know if I have time for such things as story tellin'." Because I've been in Texas for 10 years now so I drop my g's off of my "ing" words. It's pretty much the law down here, plus I like to tell people that I "drop my g's off" because it sounds like I'm trippin' like a pimped-out gangsta, yo. But then you're all "Pretty please with sugar on top tell me the story?" and I'm all "Alright, I'll tell you the damn story. Now shut the hell up and get out of my lap, Miss Yvonne don't play that." and then someone hands me a mentoring award from out of nowhere because it's obvious that I love children and/or bloggers. I know that didn't make sense. Be quiet, I'm fixin' to tell a story.
I haven't blogged about Emo too much. He's the Kiddo's best friend and I really should talk about him more here because he practically lives at our house. Emo announces his arrival at our front door with a series of loud banging and vigorous ringing of the doorbell. We always know it's him and we always yell "Come in Emo" but he never walks right in because, in his words, he "doesn't want to be rude". Then he proceeds to walk directly to our refrigerator, where he starts digging around for something to drink or eat. Once he's finished whatever he found in there, he apologizes for taking it because that's how things are done in Emoworld.
Emo is obsessed with finding, again in his words, "true love". He's 17 years old, almost a senior in high school, and his biggest concern is being in love because apparently he is a girl. This is in direct contrast with the Kiddo, who's main concerns are getting laid and driving. Between the Kiddo and Captain Carl, poor Emo gets teased a lot at our house. Sometimes I wonder why he wants to be there, but then he'll say something like "I love it over here, you guys actually talk to me" and then I get sad and all gushy in my heart for Emo and that's usually when I tell him to stay for supper. And after a few minutes of telling me no thank you he doesn't want to mooch, he stays and eats and says thank you about 50 times. I seriously heart this kid.
So last night Emo showed up and promptly asked me if I had any contact solution. Emo does not wear contacts or even glasses. So rather than ask up front, I gave him the solution and waited for the show to start. As usual, Emo did not disappoint. He dragged the Kiddo into the bathroom with him and for about 15 minutes, all I heard was Emo yelling out "Ahhh! Dang it! Come on!" while the Kiddo laughed. Then they wander out to me and Emo asked me how to put in contacts. I asked why and he holds his finger out to me and on it I see a contact lens. A red contact lens. You know, the kind that make your eyes look all weird and scary and, well, emo. This didn't surprise me in the slightest, because last weekend Emo walked in and smiled at me and would you look at that? he had fangs. Again. So it was only a matter of time before he moved on to something else equally stupid.
Apparently he got the red contacts from "some guy at an anime convention" which sounds super safe and sanitary to me, so when he asked if I thought it would be okay for him to use them, I was all "go for it, dude!" and he was all "sweet, how?" and then I told him how I put my contacts in and then laughed at him while he tried some more. Eventually I had to act like a responsible parent and tell him to stop because his eye was getting all red and puffy. He listened to me, but as he was leaving later I saw he had put in his fangs. I guess fangs are better than nothing.
My First Huffington Post Piece
2 weeks ago