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thedaywebuiltthefort-blog · 6 years

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No 109 - List Lightening Round

WARNING: The below post and accompanying videos may* contain swearing

*It does

Bold = Kyli. Unbold(?) = Holly

In which the Listers make a nostalgic breakfast, do a ridiculous dance, Holly comes face to face with a foe more frightful than cows, they play a song, hi-jack a shopping trolley and Kyli points at a bus station and they masticate some poultry.

This one has been in the pipeline for a few weeks now. The world seems to have been hell-bent on throwing so many curveballs into the path that neither of us has been able to walk in a straight line for awhile. Time has been creeping past, every day life has just taken over. The idea came about after it had been a while since I had looked at doing anything on the list. Holly had done a couple of them in the run up to her birthday, even going off piste and coming up with a whole new challenge for herself (have a look at her post about Sweatember) and I was feeling a bit left in the dust.

So I picked up the folder in which we stored all our original postits and flicked through to find something I could do that would be worth while and get me back in the game. Whilst looking through them it occurred to me that quite a few of them, whilst all important parts of the list, are actually quite small, easily done and wouldn't take up an awful lot of time or energy. This made me wonder how interesting a post we could really write about them if we were to do them individually. So I decided that we should find away to make it more challenging and more entertaining.

Ironically, my motivation has been running on empty recently and not being able to fall back on the list has been a challenge in itself. You see, that’s the dirty little secret about this whole thing, it’s more than just a silly blog where we do crazy nonsensical things. It actually takes a lot of hard work and energy to be this positive and upbeat all the damned time. There are a lot of days where lying face down on the floor eating biscuits seems like a much better option! But anyway, Kyli and I discussed the idea of completing a ‘lightening round’ of list challenges.

We agreed to give ourselves ONE day in which we try to tick off as many of the smaller things on the list as we can and collaboratively post about it!!

A few days ago we finally got the chance to get together and speed through some of the items that were easy to do with very little organizing. The nominations were;

No 17 - Ride in a shopping trolley

No 27 - Play ‘Fight Song’

No 58 - Do the ‘Poison’ dance

No 64 - Make drop scones

No 70 - Eat chicken on a bench

No 88 - Hold a snake

On Wednesday 13th October 2018 we successfully checked all of the above things off the list!! Woooooooo yeahhhhhhhh!!

We started the day by making drop scones (well Holly made them, I just ate them!). When we were kids our Nan used to make these as a quite regular treat so they were a big part of our childhood. I’m not sure anyone really knows what drop scones are actually meant to be. Apparently they’re supposed to be Scotch pancakes but having eaten those too, I can confirm they taste nothing alike. Unless we’re making them wrong, which is very possible.

Chances are high Nan was making them wrong too, she had a unique talent for burning things and drop scones were rarely an exception! Somehow though they were still so good!

Fuelled up and ready to go, we then completed the Poison dance in the kitchen, mentally and emotionally scarring my dog in the process. Just to clarify, the poison dance is a choreographed routine to Alice Cooper’s ‘Poison’ that we made up. I think a lot of people can relate to that experience of being a kid, making up dances in the house. I was about twenty when we made up this routine. I’d love to say it’s a step up from the dance we made up to the Spice Girls whilst dressed in bin bag dresses a few years prior, but I’d be lying! Say what you like about our lack of talent, rhythm or style - there is nothing not cool about making up dance routines. Unless you do them wearing bin bag dresses.

Dancing completed, it was time to move on to more serious things. We decided pretty early on that this was the day I was going to hold a snake. Let me be very clear, I have never once in my life touched a snake. They are one of two animals that I have an irrational phobia of, the other being cows.

I have a list of very real phobias as long as my arm – things that bite, things that move too fast, being in small spaces, flying, and on it goes. I have never had a bad experience with a snake, having never gotten close enough to one to get the chance. My fear is based purely on my certainty that all snakes are basically death tubes designed to kill you. I don’t even care if they’re non-venomous. They might be lying.

About five minutes from the local exotic zoo, my palms start sweating. Honestly, even I was a little surprised by my reaction. I genuinely thought that as with so many situations that I am uncomfortable with, I could just bullshit my way through it. I am the biggest coward on the planet. Bravado is my armour and I generally do a great job of joking my way through situations. It’s all about deflection.

The closer we get, the more I start to become convinced that something is going to go horribly wrong and this is all a terrible idea. I make a joke that perhaps all the snakes are out for the day. Secretly I’m hoping that might be true. Sadly, they were very much there. After falling victim to the judgmental stare of a teeny tiny owl I met a corn snake called Pumpkin.

Beware judgemental owls

I will point out now that giving something a cute name does NOT make it any less terrifying. You can call a shark ‘toothy jeff’ but it’s still going to rip your arm off. Anyway, much to the amusement of the young man holding Pumpkin for the visitors, I have to do a few laps of the room before I can even look at her. We let him know straight away the reason we’re there and try to reassure him that I’m not just a crazy person. I am relieved to hear I am not the first person to go there for the very same reason. There is a very real chance I am going to projectile vomit all over this nice guy and Pumpkin. Every time she moves I am convinced she can smell my fear and is ready to launch herself like a haunted hose pipe towards my face.

After a few minutes, I actually manage to look at her and give her a slight prod with one finger. Pumpkin feels like the inner tube of a bicycle. It’s all just part of her plan to get me to let my guard down. Jokes on you Pumpkin, you can’t fool me. Again, it takes a few laps of the room before I’m able to touch her again. I hold her with help from the guy from the zoo who repeatedly reassures me that I’m not about to die in a snake-related accident.

The whole time my heart is pumping in my mouth. Eventually, I know that I need to hold her by myself or I can’t count this as a completed task. I hold her for about three seconds on my own, she moves slightly and I give her back. I do not enjoy any of it and am a little disappointed I don’t feel a great sense of accomplishment. Still, I did it and I can take something from that. I still hate snakes, Pumpkin included.

However, nothing bad happened. Not every victory comes with a parade and a euphoric sense of self-satisfaction. Sometimes you just have to get through something you don’t really want to be involved with and come out the other side.

After recovering from my snake holding, we head over to the local Asda to get a chicken to eat on a bench, possibly one of the stranger things on the list and one Kyli is better equipped to explain. I’ll go back to that one in a moment. Lastly, we went down to a local field where I had noted an abandoned shopping trolley a few days ago, in the hope that it would still be there. I’ve ridden in a shopping trolley before, but I still wanted to add it to the list. Now I’m not saying it’s big or clever to be in your early to mid-thirties (or late twenties… just getting that in there while I still can) and want to ride around in a shopping trolley, but nothing about the list is big or clever. The shopping trolley represents something to me. It’s not just a trolley. It’s a trolley full of missed opportunity.

For me, it’s all those times I walked past something stupid and silly because I was too afraid of what people might think. The fear that I might, shock horror, fall out and knock out all of my teeth and have to live the rest of my life as a toothless hermit eating soup. I tend to over think everything. As it turns out, I did fall out. I blame Kylie entirely. Muahahahahaha!

It did hurt. My teeth, fortunately, are all still where they are meant to be. It was pretty funny and not at all dignified. Anyway, as this is turning into quite a long post I feel like it would be appropriate to end it by going back to the whole chicken on a bench thing. As mentioned, Kyli is the best person to explain why eating chicken on a bench made the list.

No, it’s not an innuendo or a weird euphemism for something else, it is exactly what it says on the tin. Eat a chicken whilst sitting on a bench. The inaugural eating of a chicken whilst in a benched state happened when I was 16. I’m not about to go into the details of the background sob story but, suffice to say, I was going through a really rough time and I had gone to my happy place, my Nanna’s house in Chapel St Leonards, to straighten my head out. After having poured my heart out to my Nan she did what I believe to be one of the best things anyone could ever do for a person. She took me by the hand… walked arm in arm with me to the local supermarket… and bought a pre-cooked rotisserie chicken. We went and sat on a bench, by the bus stop and she just made me feel like I would be OK. She was never the sort to make the world out to be cupcakes and rainbows, she never gave me delusions of grandure. She had a way of just making you feel like you would be alright. No judgment. No attempts to steer me in the right direction. She just… was. With me. On a bench. Eating chicken.

There was nothing special about the bench. There was nothing special about the chicken. But there was something very special in that little picnic with just the right person. That is one of my most vivid and cherished memories of one of the most cherished people in my life and what she did for me. It was nothing really, but it was everything.

I haven’t eaten a chicken on a bench (until the other day) since that day in Chapel with my Nanna. But it is my go to memory when I feel low and need reminding that I’m just fine.

For me it was one of the more poignant moments of the day. We were chatting about the list and Kyli said something along the lines of how eating a chicken on a bench wouldn’t mean much to anyone else but how people should find their own chicken on a bench. That’s the thing, for people that still don’t understand what this is, why it is that we are doing this – it’s very simple. This is therapy. It can be disguised as stupidity, dressed up as silliness and passed off as fun, but ultimately and most importantly, this is healing. This is facing fear and finding hope, growing and learning. There are millions of people trying to wade their way through life, with millions of ways of coping with all the worries, the disappointments, the failures, and the pitfalls. Some people medicate, some people meditate, some people have their sister push them around a field in a shopping trolley. Shit things happen in life. You get hurt, you get challenged and you don’t always get what you want. It can sometimes seem like you don’t have the time or the ability to stop for a second and work out what it is you really need to get you through. It turns out I needed a chicken on a bench, just as much as Kyli did, and probably a lot more than I (or I) realised.

We appreciate that you may look at some of these things and think to yourself, "How did that even get on the list? That's not a challenge!" and you'd be right. Not everything on the list is a challenge. Quite a few of the things we'll be doing are purely there for shits and giggles, the idea was never for everything to be uber difficult.

We created the list after realising how easy it is to get stuck in a monotonous rut in life, when daily routines become dull and dreary, and something happened to make us realise that life is too short for dreary monotony. Breaking habits, any habits, is hard and takes time and effort. The list includes lots of seemingly easy, unchallenging things to do, but try to remember that the list, in it's ever evolving entirety, is one massive challenge and the point is to make changes, big ones and small ones, to make life better and more exciting. What makes life better and more exciting than just being a bit silly sometimes? That, my friends, is how those things made it onto the list and these are the sorts of things you should absolutely make sure you include in your own lists!! (You should totally make your own lists!)

You may have read Holly's post about being patient and her dismay when she realised that after creating the list there are actually a lot of days where nothing really happens at all. We can't all be running marathons, climbing mountains and bungee jumping every day to keep the excitement going. Unfortunately, not only would that get very expensive and probably very tiring, it'd quite likely take some of the excitement away from it. I'd be tempted to say that the little things are more important than the big, difficult things because the little things are the ones that get you through those inbetweeny days that don't feel quite so accomplished.

If I had one hope for this blog, it isn’t for lots of readers or to gain anything from it in terms of recognition – it is that people will share this journey with us. I hope that by reading it you can laugh with us (and often at us) and maybe make your own list. I hope that you can celebrate the small, seemingly mundane things that get you through. I hope that you can do things you never thought you could do. Most of all, I sincerely and fervently hope that you too find your chicken on a bench.

Holly

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forkanna · 7 years

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NOTE: Yes this one is super short, too. Sorry! Next one will be better.

Let's skip to a couple days later. Not much else happened other than smarmy grossness. Of course, that still wouldn't be the usual level of pure, grade-A Canadian maple sap given that I was part of the relationship, but it was cute. Lots of takeout and movies, gaming, snuggling. Things that I had to get used to since none of my previous significant others had ever stuck around long enough.

Well… other than Scott.

Maybe that's why he was on my mind so much during that time. Literally the only other long-term relationship I'd had was him, and we were in high school, trying to figure ourselves out as much as we were trying to figure out each other and how to combine those two factors. Opening up those memories was like watching him drive away all over again, but I kept doing it. Had to figure out if there was some weird nugget of truth in there somewhere that could help me figure out how not to fuck everything up with Knives.

Scott and I didn't "date" much. It was definitely a benefriends situation; we were buds who started boinking in the back of my parents' car. So all of our activities were about the same as they had been before; practicing music, hanging out with Lisa Miller. We didn't do much that was coupley other than holding hands and sex. From what I heard, Scott got all those romantic experiences from Natalie after he dropped me like a bad habit.

So why did I keep thinking about him if there wasn't much wisdom to be had? Because I didn't have any other experiences to compare it with.

I'm pretty pathetic. But at least I had someone to call and ask for advice. He might not be the most monogamous person I know, but he is a flaming queer, and has had more success in the dating arena than pretty much anyone else in my extended circle. Maybe using my phone-a-friend lifeline counted as cheating, but when working with such a severe handicap, I figure it all shakes out.

~ o ~

"Well, well, well," Wallace Wells half-purred in that voice of his. You know the one. "The redhead."

"That is the colour of my hair, yes," I grumbled.

"Didn't expect to ever hear from you again once Ess Bee Bee and that other thing broke up. See you around in that bump-into-people-you-knew-through-people-in-Honest-Ed's way, sure…"

Gripping my drumstick tighter as I sat on my drumset's seat — the seat of power, a place from which I drew comfort and ability to cope with life — I said, "Same. But I got your number from Stacey, because… I need help."

"'Fraid I'm fresh outta that stuff."

"Help? You're 'out' of help. Really?"

"Yep. The generic kind. But if you elaborate, I might have a specific flavour blend in stock…"

He was definitely going to make me work for this. So I decided to stop being shy and cut through the double-talk and uncertainty. "I'm dating Knives."

The line was quiet for a moment. "That sounds painful. My advice is to buy plenty of bandages for when things get frisky."

"No, Knives Chau. Scott's ex."

"Oh!" he said in a pleasant tone of voice. Even now, I'm not totally sure whether he was trolling me or if he really didn't think I meant her the first time. "She was cute in a Pokémon trainer kind of way. Didn't think you played in the kiddie pool."

"She's in college now, you asshat. But I could use some advice."

"Advice for dating women? Fresh out of that, too."

Gritting my teeth, I said, "Wallace…"

"Alright, alright. So you're edging onto the Rainbow Road and you're afraid of flying off the side. I gotcha. Assuming that's the reason you called me instead of someone else you know…?"

"There's nobody else. Stephen's pretty much the only other person I could call, but he gives terrible advice. Hollie is in Nowhereville with Jason, who knows? And Steph… I just don't know her very well. Or maybe too well. I'm really not sure which."

"That makes me the bartender."

"What?"

"You know, the nameless bartender you tell all your deepest, darkest secrets to in hopes he can give you guidance because you're too blasted to figure out he couldn't care less about your life."

"Fine, nevermind. God, sorry to have bothered you."

But he was chuckling. "Alright, alright. I'm half-kidding; I barely know you and don't care that much, but you're family now. That has to be taken into consideration."

"I'm… family?"

"Gay family. A budding bisexual, right?"

"Y-yeah." I cleared my throat to get rid of that uncertain quaver. "I guess."

"We all start out 'guessing'. It's okay." He let out a long sigh, and there was the sound of something being moved around; he was probably working on something in his apartment, or at his job. Whatever that was. "How long have you two been having playdates?"

"A couple weeks, or whatever," I growled, ignoring the insult.

"How far have you gone?" When I let out a strangled noise, he reassured me, "For informational purposes only. Trust me, I'm not going to get off on two girls doing anything. If there's not at least one dick involved, it's off my curiosity list."

I started to correct him that one was involved, but again I felt that instinct to protect her identity kick in. Maybe I should ask her if she minded me telling people at some point. "Dry-humping. She's kind of… never done it, and I haven't done it with a girl. I swear, if you tell anyb-"

"Lips are sealed. Do you want it to go further?"

"YES! But I mean, only if she's ready."

"Good, that's good. I've had a hesitant date or two. No still means no, and that's more important than all the prep work in the world, but I have a couple ideas that could help get her in the mood."

That one hit me hard. Luckily, I just barely listened to her "no"s when we were drunk as skunks. Nodding as I chewed on my drumstick, I then put it down and said, "That'll help, but I'm actually more worried about… other stuff. Like, how to be in a relationship with a cute, bubbly, fun girl when I'm a vortex of despair."

"Opposites attract. Chances are, she already likes you because you're a vortex of despair. Not usually something people put on their eHarmony profile, though." But apparently, I had him curious. "What other stuff?"

"Dating. I suck at it. Like…" I tried to lower my defenses. "She's so sweet to me, and I feel like I'm just there. Sucking all the fun out of the room. I want her to feel what I feel. Or I guess, to show her that. Something."

"Awww, baby lesbians are so cute. Like puppies."

"Ugh…"

Then he sighed again, a long, floaty sigh of someone toying with someone else. Which would be me. "Alright, never fear — Wallaciraptor is here. Let's help you get rolling…"

~ o ~

When Knives walked in the door, I could tell she was caught off-guard by the way her purse fell to the floor instead of being set down. "Kim? I… what's going on?"

"Nothing," I lied as I bent over to take the casserole out of the oven, showing off my bare ass. Just below the apron strings. Yes, I really did the cliché. Yes, it was super uncomfortable for me, since I'm not exactly a flesh-flashing kinda girl. But I thought, hey, it was worth a shot. "Making dinner."

Which was also part of the plan. There were multiple parts; I didn't know which one to try, so I tried everything. One big gesture to try and prove to both Knives and myself that I could be a girlfriend, and not just some drummer chick who acts like she's on the rag all the time.

"Yeah, but you're naked! I mean… almost!"

"You like it? I thought the green apron brought out my eyes." It still came out sounding sarcastic, even though I didn't mean for it to. My voice just sounds that way unless I'm actively suppressing the biting tone, and even then sometimes it bleeds through.

"Um…" Deciding not to comment on my butt, she turned toward the stove. "Smells great! We're having casserole?"

"Yes. And garlic bread. That's not done yet, though. And, um…" I glanced at my coffee table, where there was a cabernet open and "breathing" — Wallace's suggestion. I would have just put a couple of beers down to go with dinner, or at least uncorked the wine right before drinking it.

Knives walked over and touched one of the wine glasses with a finger. I got them from a dollar store specifically for this occasion, since I didn't own any before. Then she picked up the remote for the stereo system, which was pretty conspicuous because it was the only other thing on the table. "What's this do?"

"Hit 'play'," I said as I got out plates.

She did. And quiet, soft, romantic piano music started floating out of the speakers. Also from the dollar store, but I listened to the whole CD before using it to make sure it wasn't too terrible. She laughed… but it was a very specific, actual happy laugh. Not so much at my expense as just surprised at the situation, I guess.

"What is all this?" she asked as she went back over to kick off her work shoes and leave them by the purse. "Like… I thought we were just going to have cup ramen and watch TV."

"Wanted to try something else. Um… y-you'll have to tell me if it's any good. Never tried this recipe before." Hell, I don't think I'd ever cooked anything more complex than a frozen pizza in forever.

Once she was in the kitchen, she put her hand in the small of my back. "I'm sure I'll love it." Then she shivered and smiled shyly, withdrawing from the touch. "Not used to touching your skin like that."

"I can change if it's more comfortable for you. This was kind of just… y'know. The 'naked housewife fantasy' bit as a joke. Or maybe not a joke, if you liked it."

"Trying to get me in the mood?" she guessed with a slightly wry smile. When I flushed a little darker, she stopped smiling. "Wait… oh, is this really what that is?"

"Not exactly. But… kind of. I just… wanted to be a good girlfriend, or something like that. I dunno."

The silence was kind of tense. She didn't look angry, just a little confused and contemplating the whole situation. Then she glanced at the oven and back at me.

"How much longer? For the garlic bread."

"About another five. I'll be quick." Clearly, she wanted me in real clothes, which I already had laid out on my dresser. Ready for plan B.

And I was more okay with that than I first expected. Sure, it hurt a little that she didn't know how to feel about me being naked while we ate, but at the same time, neither did I. Just seemed like a weird idea. But Wallace swore it worked like a charm on this one guy he was dating, so I figured I'd give it a shot. No real harm.

Once I was wearing a nice white blouse and a long grey skirt, we got our plates loaded down with casserole and bread and moved things to the table, where we sat cross-legged and ate and drank. She told me about her day, and I told her about mine until the point at which I started getting dinner ready, which I didn't think was interesting — until she started demanding more details with her cute, patient way of doing everything. Incredibly, stories about me buying ingredients and wine glasses was actual entertainment for her.

And somehow, she managed to out-girlfriend me again. Shut up, I know it's not a competition… I know. But even after I drove like a thousand miles outside my comfort zone, hoping to really show her how much I cared and how much she meant to me, Knives was already there and had a jetpack to fly even further. She started doing the dishes as soon as we took our plates to the kitchen, said it was her turn to cook next time when I wasn't expecting it, asked if I had a long day, offered to rub my back when I moved my neck and made the world's tiniest wince… and she gave me the rub, and it felt so good. Told me I looked really cute in the outfit before I could ask. Sweetness and sunshine.

What kind of jerk was she to be so perfect?

To Be Continued…

#kim pine's precious little knives #forkanna writes #scott pilgrim fanfiction #wallace wells #scott pilgrim vs. the world #kim pine #kim x knives #forkanna the writer

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