Ninja Coffee Cup Strikes Again!

I've decided that my ninja coffee cup is becoming a much better ninja.

Ninja Cup was forgotten approximately 800 kilometers north of where I'm currently living. I took it home for Christmas so I could have my traditional cup of Christmas Ogn (yes, that's spelled right. I'll post the recipe for my Christmas Ogn when the season rolls around again) right before opening the first present on Christmas Morning. Because I had to go to work on New Year's Eve, I was in a rush to pack my things and I left my oh-so-amazing ninja coffee cup in the dishwasher at my parents' place.

Well, about two weeks after it happened, I called my mother in a panic, who reassured me that my mug was safe and sound, tucked away up high and hidden behind some old cups in the cupboard where my dumbass brother couldn't find it, and that it would be waiting for me when I moved back home for the summer.

That was a laugh in and of itself. Never, not once in any of the time since I started my first year of university, did I ever indicate that I would ever be moving back to the ass-end of nowhere on the corner of Nothing Way to live with my parents, a brother I despise, and be stuck in a very isolated Northern community. And when my mother was telling me this over the phone, I had been sitting at my computer responding to "Roommate Wanted" ads.

That was the end of that, and I got myself a new mug. It was . . . nice, but it wasn't my ninja mug.

Fast forward to about three days ago. I had a massive kick-to-the teeth from Life. I lost the apartment that I was all set to move into for (of all reasons) my would-be Roommate's parents were giving him shit for letting a girl move in with him. My age had nothing to do with it, my sexuality had nothing to do with it, it was just the sheer fact that I was a girl that made him tell me I wasn't allowed to move in anymore. The day before that, my ex-girlfriend attempted suicide and I was a nervous wreck. And to top it all off, living in residence at university was very quickly becoming intolerable.

(Read: My neighbors enjoyed noisy, raucous, bed-hitting-the-wall, flesh-hitting-flesh, unnecessarily-loud-and-unconvincing moaner sex every night for two weeks straight, for long, long, long hours that stretched from midnight to just past 5 AM every single fucking night.)

So I was having a rough time of it. I ended up taking my Replacement Kung-Fu mug (it wasn't cool enough to be a ninja, it just knew kung-fu) coffee cup and throwing it against the side of the building while I was outside having a cigarette. It shattered, leaving me without a carry-along mug once again.

Anger, sadness, and a whole rainbow of emotions just punched me in the chest and I doubled over sobbing and screaming and ranting at God for letting things get this bad.

And that's when I sobered up. I was drunk on emotions, not a substance, although I went back to my room and drank half a 24 of Vodka straight from the bottle about ten minutes after that. Anyways . . . I knew it wasn't God's fault that this shit was happening. God created us, he doesn't need to sit around and babysit us like we're perpetually two. He gave us free will for a reason.

After I finished chugging the vodka, I started digging through my boxes in order to find my regular old coffee cups. I needed something caffeinated to wash down the booze.

Guess what I found?

Tucked at the very bottom of the box my coffee cups were in, was my ninja coffee cup. It was a bit beaten up and dirty, but it was there. I called up my mom and she went and checked the cupboard and, sure enough, where she'd tucked my ninja coffee cup was empty of said ninja coffee cup. She hadn't touched it, my brother swore on his bong that he hadn't touched it, and Dad was at work so we couldn't ask him and . . .

Well, ninja coffee cups are ninja and sometimes there just aren't explanations for what's happened with them. I made myself a cup of tea after giving my ninja cup about fourteen different baths of dish soap and scrubbing it really well, then puked my guts up because I drank twelve ounces of vodka in the span of twenty minutes. Drinking to excess in a short amount of time has never been a strong suit with me, but give me a glass of water and peanuts on the table and I can drink heavyweights under the table . . .

I've seen my ninja coffee cup show up at work twice since it got home, neither times when it was anywhere near where my work stuff is usually kept.

Its a NINJA. And its getting BETTER because I no longer have ANY explanation for what the fuck's going on.

And once I get a camera, I will post PICTURES of the NINJA.


Peace,

Emily Grace