I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but I am deathly afraid of spiders. I'm not exaggerating.
One time I found a tiny (like, the size of a sugar ant) spider crawling on me. I screamed. Loudly. For a whole minute. While flailing around like an idiot trying to get it off me. But all that did was make the spider fall down my shirt to where I could no longer see it. Defeated, I sat down and cried for the next five minutes.
It was a truly traumatic experience and I am scarred for life by it.
Spider - 1, Kayla - 0.
Last week, I had just finished locking our dogs up in their crates in the garage for the night, when I heard one of them crying. I ignored it at first, but the crying persisted and my mom had me go check on them to see what was wrong.
As soon as I opened the garage door, of course the crying stopped. Unable to figure out what was wrong, I went back inside and began to get ready for bed. The crying started again.
This time I went and actually let them back outside for a few minutes in case someone just needed to go to the bathroom or run around or something. After a couple of minutes, I locked them back up and went back inside.
About five minutes later, the crying began again. My mom told me just to let them out and leave them out. So I went into the garage, let them out of their crates, and then followed them to the garage door to let them into the backyard.
As we were walking to the door, I saw a big black spot on one of my dogs. At first I thought it was just dirt, but then I noticed it was moving. I looked again and sure enough -- a GIANT spider (probably the size of a quarter, which qualifies as giant as far as spiders are concerned) was hitching a ride on my dog.
My dog who was now standing in between me and the door to the backyard. Which meant that a giant spider was standing between me and the door to the backyard.
I froze. I began to panic. I screamed. And then I turned around and ran inside, slamming the door behind me.
"THERE'S A GIANT SPIDER ON BUCK!" I screamed at my mom. "HE'S STANDING IN FRONT OF THE DOOR. I WOULD HAVE TO GO NEAR THE SPIDER. I CAN'T LET THEM OUT."
My mom convinced me that the spider was probably not on him anymore and to try again. I cracked open the door to see my very confused dogs wondering why I left them loose in the garage. I looked at Buck. I saw the spider. And it had doubled in size (now the size of a half-dollar coin). I screamed. I slammed the door. I went into hysterics yelling things like "I CAN'T DO IT" and "WHAT IF IT EATS ME?"
I almost made my mom who had just had shoulder surgery and was already settled into her recliner for the night get up and put them away, but she convinced me to try once more.
I opened the door. I looked at my still very confused dogs. I examined Buck closely. I didn't see anything. I took a step out. It still looked good. Maybe the spider was no longer on him.
But wait.
If the spider was no longer on Buck...then OH MY GOSH THE SPIDER WAS IN THE GARAGE SOMEWHERE WAITING TO EAT ME.
Enter adrenaline rush. Unsure of where the spider was lurking, I ran to the side door, yelling at Buck the whole time to STAY AWAY FROM ME. I opened the door, they ran out, and I slammed the door shut behind me as I ran screaming back inside.
Spider - 2, Kayla - 0.
I came back inside to find my mom literally dying from laughing at me. I was less amused.
"The spider wasn't on Buck anymore and now I'm afraid it's hiding somewhere on me," I said, offended that my mom was laughing at me when my life was at stake.
Suddenly, she stopped laughing and looked at me. She had this really serious, concerned look on her face. And then she gasped.
And that was all it took.
I screamed bloody murder and jumped a couple feet into the air, flailing my arms around for about two seconds. And then, as my mom once more burst into laughter, I realized what a cruel trick she had just played on me.
Spider - 2, Mom - 1, Kayla - 0.
But don't worry. One day, when it is proven that spiders are in fact little tiny demons that steal your soul and then kill you, I will have the last laugh, and my score will finally be Kayla - 1.
P.S. I was going to add a picture of a spider for effect, but I couldn't do it. The pictures on Google were horrifying and I couldn't look long enough to decide on one.
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Friday, November 15, 2013
Sunday, August 25, 2013
You Alone Can Rescue.
I know I exaggerate a lot, and so what I'm about to say will probably not mean much to you, but it's for real this time, y'all.
I almost died today.
It was a normal Sunday morning. I got up, got ready for church, and was in my car by 9:30 to arrive 15 minutes early for the 10:00 elementary girls' class that I help with.
I turned to the country music station because they do a top 40 countdown on Sundays. I backed out of my driveway, pulled out of my neighborhood, and got on the ramp to I-35.
I drove up the ramp, rocking out to Two Black Cadillacs by Carrie Underwood, I turned the corner -- freeway in sight -- and I felt my car start to drift to the right.
That's weird, I thought. I was driving straight and I knew my alignment wasn't off, so I wasn't sure why my car was veering to the right. So I lightly turned the wheel to the left to compensate.
But it went too far to the left. Which didn't make sense, because I had barely turned the wheel. I turned the wheel to the right -- again, lightly -- because I was in the far left lane and was getting closer and closer to the side of the ramp (which, by the way, was about 20 feet above the ground).
My car went even farther this time, taking me from the left shoulder to the far right lane (it was a two-lane ramp). As I veered closer to the far right side of the ramp (again, about 20 feet off the ground), I decided I was about to die. But I wasn't going to give up just yet.
I made one last left turn of the wheel to get away from the edge of the ramp and then slammed on my brakes. My car momentarily spun out of control before coming to a complete stop right in the middle of the two lanes.
My heart was racing and I couldn't really breathe, but I needed to get out of the middle of everything, so I very, very carefully pulled into the shoulder, turned on my flashers, and called for help (because I was NOT about to try driving again).
Thankfully, my mom was just about to leave for church, so she was able to come pick me up. My dad came by a little later to look at my car and move it into a parking lot where it would be safer.
I was late to church but I don't think anyone really cared about that when I had just narrowly escaped death.
The crazy part is this: when I turned the corner on the ramp, just seconds before my car TRIED TO KILL ME, there were cars all around me. When my car suddenly lost control, all the cars that had been near me had gotten ahead of me, and no one was behind me. The area was completely empty until I had made it safely to the shoulder. Once I was in the shoulder, there was pretty much a steady flow of traffic. I was all over the road; had there been anyone there, I would have absolutely hit them.
Had I hit the side of the ramp, there's a good chance I would have gone over the edge at the speed I was going at. I was incredibly close to hitting both sides, but in both cases was able to swerve back to the other side.
As I was sitting in our church service later, we sang the song You Alone Can Rescue. These are the words:
I almost died today.
It was a normal Sunday morning. I got up, got ready for church, and was in my car by 9:30 to arrive 15 minutes early for the 10:00 elementary girls' class that I help with.
I turned to the country music station because they do a top 40 countdown on Sundays. I backed out of my driveway, pulled out of my neighborhood, and got on the ramp to I-35.
I drove up the ramp, rocking out to Two Black Cadillacs by Carrie Underwood, I turned the corner -- freeway in sight -- and I felt my car start to drift to the right.
That's weird, I thought. I was driving straight and I knew my alignment wasn't off, so I wasn't sure why my car was veering to the right. So I lightly turned the wheel to the left to compensate.
But it went too far to the left. Which didn't make sense, because I had barely turned the wheel. I turned the wheel to the right -- again, lightly -- because I was in the far left lane and was getting closer and closer to the side of the ramp (which, by the way, was about 20 feet above the ground).
My car went even farther this time, taking me from the left shoulder to the far right lane (it was a two-lane ramp). As I veered closer to the far right side of the ramp (again, about 20 feet off the ground), I decided I was about to die. But I wasn't going to give up just yet.
I made one last left turn of the wheel to get away from the edge of the ramp and then slammed on my brakes. My car momentarily spun out of control before coming to a complete stop right in the middle of the two lanes.
My heart was racing and I couldn't really breathe, but I needed to get out of the middle of everything, so I very, very carefully pulled into the shoulder, turned on my flashers, and called for help (because I was NOT about to try driving again).
This was almost me.
Thankfully, my mom was just about to leave for church, so she was able to come pick me up. My dad came by a little later to look at my car and move it into a parking lot where it would be safer.
I was late to church but I don't think anyone really cared about that when I had just narrowly escaped death.
The crazy part is this: when I turned the corner on the ramp, just seconds before my car TRIED TO KILL ME, there were cars all around me. When my car suddenly lost control, all the cars that had been near me had gotten ahead of me, and no one was behind me. The area was completely empty until I had made it safely to the shoulder. Once I was in the shoulder, there was pretty much a steady flow of traffic. I was all over the road; had there been anyone there, I would have absolutely hit them.
Had I hit the side of the ramp, there's a good chance I would have gone over the edge at the speed I was going at. I was incredibly close to hitting both sides, but in both cases was able to swerve back to the other side.
As I was sitting in our church service later, we sang the song You Alone Can Rescue. These are the words:
"You alone can rescue, You alone can save
You alone can lift us from the grave
You came down to find us, led us out of death
To You alone belongs the highest praise."
I know that this song is technically talking about salvation and Jesus dying on the cross for us, but today I felt it had another meaning, because God literally rescued, saved, and led me out of death (or at least some severe injuries) this morning. And He definitely deserves the highest praise.
I wish I could credit my awesome driving/remaining-calm-in-a-crisis skills, but I can't. All glory goes to God on this one.
There is simply no other explanation.
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Subway Adventures.
Today I had worship team training at church from 10am-4pm. And let me just say, the series of unfortunate events that happened at my lunch break had Kayla written all over it. In big capital letters. Underlined four times. With an exclamation point.
This is good, guys. Just you wait.
Unfortunate Event #1: The Elusive Subway.
We were on our own for lunch but a large group of people (my friends included) were going to Taco Cabana. Which I found really surprising because I didn't know people actually liked Taco Cabana. Like, seriously, if we're going to have tacos I'd much rather have Taco Bell. But then again, I'm probably not the most reliable judge of food.
Anyway, obviously I was not okay with Taco Cabana, but I did want to spend time with my friends, so I was going to get food elsewhere and then meet them there. I decided that I wanted Subway because a) Subway is kind of healthy, and I've been feeling guilty about all the junk I've been eating lately, and b) it sounded really good. So, I got in my car and set off for Subway. Only I couldn't remember exactly where it was, but I had a pretty good idea. So I headed that direction and figured I'd see it eventually.
So I'm driving. And I keep driving. And I keep driving. Because Subway is past all the other fast food restaurants. I know* that it's further up the road, so I just keep driving. And every once in awhile, I think I've passed it. So I start to turn around but then I see another group of buildings coming up and I convince myself that that's where Subway is. But it isn't. After doing this about three times, I began entering unrecognizable territory, so I decide to turn around for real this time.
*Me "knowing" where things are located is like a five year old "knowing" how to do calculus correctly
I'm driving back and looking for Subway. And I'm not finding it. And I'm like, "Are you kidding me? Was it seriously further up? Does Subway even exist anymore?" AND THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, I SEE IT. And I'm like, "SUBWAY! I see you! But...how do I get to you...?"
It was like behind a bunch of restaurants and...I don't even know. Like, it was there, but it was hidden. So I maneuvered my way through the Walmart parking lot and down a couple back roads and finally I'm in the Subway parking lot -- the actual Subway parking lot! -- and I park and get out of my car.
Which brings me to...
Unfortunate Event #2: The Door with the Sandwich On It.
I walk into Subway, ECSTATIC because I'm really hungry, and the first thing I notice are SIX bulky guys, about high school age, probably football players, sitting together and staring at me (quite angrily I might add) in dead silence at Subway. Just sitting there. With no food. Not standing in line to order. And I was like, "Do these guys know how Subway works? You have to go stand in line..." But then I looked up and realized that there was no one at the register. There were employees in the back (who saw me walk in), but no one at the front. So I stepped to the side and joined the awkward silence while these big scary guys just...stared at me.
While I'm waiting, I can't help but notice that Subway is a lot smaller than I remembered it being. Did they remodel? Why would they remodel and make the place smaller? Or maybe it just looked smaller because of the new design. But the counter looked way too small to hold all the sandwich fixins. And why did it smell like pizza in there?
And then I look at the door, and right below the picture of something that very closely resembles a SANDWICH (and sandwich = Subway) are the words "Little Caesar's."
Little Caesar's. Last time I checked, that was different than Subway. And I'm completely mortified at this point that I have walked into and stood in for several minutes the WRONG restaurant. I have been stared at by creepy high school boys that totally had the ability to kill me. I have been acknowledged (but not served) by some very busy Little Caesar's employees. And I could feel the eyes of all 6 scary boys and all 3 employees on me as I silently walked out and never returned.
And before I walked into Subway, I read every sign from top to bottom just to make sure.
Unfortunate Event #3: I Give Up.
Thankfully, I was able to get my 6" tuna sandwich on Italian without a hitch, and I made it to my car and out of the parking lot without incident.
By the way, at this point our one hour lunch break is more than half over.
Anyway, I'm driving to Taco Cabana to catch up with my friends (for, like, a whole 15 minutes), but I was so...flustered, I guess is the word...from everything that just happened that I passed Taco Cabana. And at first I was like, "I think I just passed it..." but then I was like, "oh, no, it's further up here." But it wasn't. And by the time I was 100% sure I had passed it, I was almost back to church.
There just wasn't any point in turning around.
I was probably just going to pass it again anyway.
So I pulled into church and found a table inside to eat at while I recovered from the previous 45 minutes' adventures.
So yes, ladies and gentlemen, in 45 minutes I managed to:
And to my friends who may or may not have been waiting on me to show up at Taco Cabana (I'm not even sure they knew I was coming, but just in case): I DID NOT ditch you guys on purpose. I totally intended on showing up, and wanted to...but, like, seriously...I just needed a moment to myself. To recover. Because...it was a crazy 45 minutes, y'all. Real crazy. Kayla levels of crazy. And Lord knows it takes time to recover from Kayla crazy.
Kaylzy? Oh, I know! Crayla. Wait, no...that sounds like a crayon.
Whatever. It doesn't even deserve its own word. You know what they say: when you name things, you just get more attached.
Which doesn't really apply in this situation but that's okay. The point is...well, actually there isn't one. (Other than to make you feel better about yourself, of course).
Sorry to have wasted your time.
This is good, guys. Just you wait.
Unfortunate Event #1: The Elusive Subway.
We were on our own for lunch but a large group of people (my friends included) were going to Taco Cabana. Which I found really surprising because I didn't know people actually liked Taco Cabana. Like, seriously, if we're going to have tacos I'd much rather have Taco Bell. But then again, I'm probably not the most reliable judge of food.
Anyway, obviously I was not okay with Taco Cabana, but I did want to spend time with my friends, so I was going to get food elsewhere and then meet them there. I decided that I wanted Subway because a) Subway is kind of healthy, and I've been feeling guilty about all the junk I've been eating lately, and b) it sounded really good. So, I got in my car and set off for Subway. Only I couldn't remember exactly where it was, but I had a pretty good idea. So I headed that direction and figured I'd see it eventually.
So I'm driving. And I keep driving. And I keep driving. Because Subway is past all the other fast food restaurants. I know* that it's further up the road, so I just keep driving. And every once in awhile, I think I've passed it. So I start to turn around but then I see another group of buildings coming up and I convince myself that that's where Subway is. But it isn't. After doing this about three times, I began entering unrecognizable territory, so I decide to turn around for real this time.
*Me "knowing" where things are located is like a five year old "knowing" how to do calculus correctly
I'm driving back and looking for Subway. And I'm not finding it. And I'm like, "Are you kidding me? Was it seriously further up? Does Subway even exist anymore?" AND THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, I SEE IT. And I'm like, "SUBWAY! I see you! But...how do I get to you...?"
It was like behind a bunch of restaurants and...I don't even know. Like, it was there, but it was hidden. So I maneuvered my way through the Walmart parking lot and down a couple back roads and finally I'm in the Subway parking lot -- the actual Subway parking lot! -- and I park and get out of my car.
Which brings me to...
Unfortunate Event #2: The Door with the Sandwich On It.
I walk into Subway, ECSTATIC because I'm really hungry, and the first thing I notice are SIX bulky guys, about high school age, probably football players, sitting together and staring at me (quite angrily I might add) in dead silence at Subway. Just sitting there. With no food. Not standing in line to order. And I was like, "Do these guys know how Subway works? You have to go stand in line..." But then I looked up and realized that there was no one at the register. There were employees in the back (who saw me walk in), but no one at the front. So I stepped to the side and joined the awkward silence while these big scary guys just...stared at me.
While I'm waiting, I can't help but notice that Subway is a lot smaller than I remembered it being. Did they remodel? Why would they remodel and make the place smaller? Or maybe it just looked smaller because of the new design. But the counter looked way too small to hold all the sandwich fixins. And why did it smell like pizza in there?
And then I look at the door, and right below the picture of something that very closely resembles a SANDWICH (and sandwich = Subway) are the words "Little Caesar's."
Sandwiches > Pizza.
And before I walked into Subway, I read every sign from top to bottom just to make sure.
Unfortunate Event #3: I Give Up.
Thankfully, I was able to get my 6" tuna sandwich on Italian without a hitch, and I made it to my car and out of the parking lot without incident.
By the way, at this point our one hour lunch break is more than half over.
Anyway, I'm driving to Taco Cabana to catch up with my friends (for, like, a whole 15 minutes), but I was so...flustered, I guess is the word...from everything that just happened that I passed Taco Cabana. And at first I was like, "I think I just passed it..." but then I was like, "oh, no, it's further up here." But it wasn't. And by the time I was 100% sure I had passed it, I was almost back to church.
There just wasn't any point in turning around.
I was probably just going to pass it again anyway.
So I pulled into church and found a table inside to eat at while I recovered from the previous 45 minutes' adventures.
So yes, ladies and gentlemen, in 45 minutes I managed to:
- Get lost on a street I have traveled hundreds of times
- Share some delightfully awkward moments with 9 strangers
- Get so distracted that I just straight up passed my destination
- Just give up, because seriously, why do I even try to be cool?
And to my friends who may or may not have been waiting on me to show up at Taco Cabana (I'm not even sure they knew I was coming, but just in case): I DID NOT ditch you guys on purpose. I totally intended on showing up, and wanted to...but, like, seriously...I just needed a moment to myself. To recover. Because...it was a crazy 45 minutes, y'all. Real crazy. Kayla levels of crazy. And Lord knows it takes time to recover from Kayla crazy.
Kaylzy? Oh, I know! Crayla. Wait, no...that sounds like a crayon.
Whatever. It doesn't even deserve its own word. You know what they say: when you name things, you just get more attached.
Which doesn't really apply in this situation but that's okay. The point is...well, actually there isn't one. (Other than to make you feel better about yourself, of course).
Sorry to have wasted your time.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
I Just Can't Catch a Break.
Y'all know how I love my TV shows. (If you don't, see my last post). Well, I'm currently kind of in between shows because I finished Veronica Mars (in ONE WEEK, ladies and gentlemen. I'm not sure if that's a talent or an illness, but it's impressive either way) and I am waiting to borrow the DVDs of my next show -- Downton Abbey -- from a friend.
I'm super excited about Downton Abbey. I've heard it's amazing. Hopefully I will be getting the DVDs on Friday. That should occupy me for a few days at least.
As I was saying, I'm in between shows. I'm kinda watching New Girl on Netflix, which is pretty funny but I haven't gotten hooked on it yet so I'm not spending every spare moment watching it. Plus I'm almost done because there's only one season on Netflix. Though I do have a free two weeks of Hulu Plus I've been saving. I'll have to look into that.
ANYWAY. I'm also watching regular TV. Like today I discovered we have the game show channel again. I love me some game shows.
I got tired of watching game shows (mainly because I can't play along with Minute to Win It), so I was flipping through channels and came across a show that I used to watch with my family ALL THE TIME but haven't in a few years -- So You Think You Can Dance. I know nothing about dancing but I enjoy watching it so I got excited and started watching.
For some unknown reason that cannot be explained by anything other than an act of God because it makes absolutely no sense, it has been raining all day. In Texas. In AUGUST. Rain in the summer is not a normal thing here.
But everything is bigger in Texas, so we don't just get "rain." No, we get the whole shebang. The whole lightninging, thundering, pouring, LOST-SATELLITE-SIGNALING shebang.
After the first dance the satellite decided I watch too much TV (true, but not for the TV to decide) and dropped its signal. And I sat on the couch in silence for the next ten minutes staring at a signal-less TV.
And THEN, something magical happened. It started searching for a signal. A box popped up that said "Searching for signal. This should not take more than 5 minutes."
And TEN (not five) minutes later, it came back! *happy dance*
For a whole five minutes, and then it changed the channel because TOO MANY THINGS WERE RECORDING.
And I'm like, are you kidding me? All I wanted to do was watch a nice dance show and Dish Network was not cooperating.
So I canceled some recordings and fixed it so that I could watch my dance show, thank you very much. Because it was really important. Because, like...yeah. It just was.
And then I ate some snickerdoodle blondies to make up for the hard hour I had. Because I DESERVED IT, dang it.
OH MY GOSH. I just realized it's Tuesday. No wonder the whole world was against me today.*
*The whole world being the TV. Obviously.
I'm super excited about Downton Abbey. I've heard it's amazing. Hopefully I will be getting the DVDs on Friday. That should occupy me for a few days at least.
As I was saying, I'm in between shows. I'm kinda watching New Girl on Netflix, which is pretty funny but I haven't gotten hooked on it yet so I'm not spending every spare moment watching it. Plus I'm almost done because there's only one season on Netflix. Though I do have a free two weeks of Hulu Plus I've been saving. I'll have to look into that.
ANYWAY. I'm also watching regular TV. Like today I discovered we have the game show channel again. I love me some game shows.
I got tired of watching game shows (mainly because I can't play along with Minute to Win It), so I was flipping through channels and came across a show that I used to watch with my family ALL THE TIME but haven't in a few years -- So You Think You Can Dance. I know nothing about dancing but I enjoy watching it so I got excited and started watching.
For some unknown reason that cannot be explained by anything other than an act of God because it makes absolutely no sense, it has been raining all day. In Texas. In AUGUST. Rain in the summer is not a normal thing here.
But everything is bigger in Texas, so we don't just get "rain." No, we get the whole shebang. The whole lightninging, thundering, pouring, LOST-SATELLITE-SIGNALING shebang.
After the first dance the satellite decided I watch too much TV (true, but not for the TV to decide) and dropped its signal. And I sat on the couch in silence for the next ten minutes staring at a signal-less TV.
And THEN, something magical happened. It started searching for a signal. A box popped up that said "Searching for signal. This should not take more than 5 minutes."
And TEN (not five) minutes later, it came back! *happy dance*
For a whole five minutes, and then it changed the channel because TOO MANY THINGS WERE RECORDING.
How I was feeling at this point. Minus the wheat field.
And I'm like, are you kidding me? All I wanted to do was watch a nice dance show and Dish Network was not cooperating.
So I canceled some recordings and fixed it so that I could watch my dance show, thank you very much. Because it was really important. Because, like...yeah. It just was.
And then I ate some snickerdoodle blondies to make up for the hard hour I had. Because I DESERVED IT, dang it.
OH MY GOSH. I just realized it's Tuesday. No wonder the whole world was against me today.*
*The whole world being the TV. Obviously.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Awkward Moment #324.
I made up that number. It's really probably a lot higher than 324.
So classes started back up today. Well, they started yesterday, but I'm only taking Tuesday/Thursday classes so for me, they started today. Anyway.
I'm taking four classes, from 9:30-3:30. No breaks in between for lunch (that is called poor planning, people), but since today was mainly just going over the syllabus, I got out of almost all my classes 45 minutes early.
After my 11:00 class which I got out of about 11:40, I was starving, so I decided to head over to the University Center for lunch. I got Chickfila. It was yummy.
Anyway.
It's always really awkward trying to find seating in there. Because all the tables are usually occupied by multiple people...it's really hard to find one seat that's appropriately spaced from the other groups at the same table. But eventually I found one and sat down to enjoy my lunch.
Anyway.
I was facing another table, and a guy sat down on the side facing me with a Subway sandwich. While he was eating, I happened to notice a piece of lettuce stuck to his lip. So naturally, I did what anyone would do in this situation: I stared at it.
I wanted to see if it would fall off or if it was going to stay stuck there. So I'm staring at this guy for like, I don't know, a minute, when suddenly, he looks up. Right at me.
I quickly avert my gaze.
I turn my head slightly to look back down at my food, and out of my peripheral vision I see this guy smiling and waving at me.
Do I wave back? Do I acknowledge him? What do I do?
Well, I'll tell you what I did.
I mustered up some courage and eked out a very, VERY timid smile that you would only notice if you were looking for it really, REALLY hard.
And then he starts to get up. And I'm FREAKING out.
This is essentially what went through my head: Oh my gosh he's getting up. Oh my gosh. Is he coming over here? Don't look. Whatever you do don't look. Oh my gosh. Does he think you were trying to communicate interest? How do I explain to him that I was staring at him because he had a piece of lettuce stuck to his lip? This is going to be soooo awkward.
Anyway.
He gets up. And as he's doing so, he's saying something, but I can't tell what. And he starts walking...and he's getting closer and closer...
And he completely ignores me as he walks by and joins his friends at a different table.
Apparently, when I was staring at the lettuce on his lip, some friends of his at another table spotted him and yelled his name, which is why he looked up. And then the whole time he was smiling and waving at them, not me. Which hopefully means he didn't notice me smiling.
So I guess it wasn't really an awkward moment...but it almost was.
I felt awkward, at least.
REALLY awkward.
Moral of the story: don't stare at lettuce on strangers' lips.
So classes started back up today. Well, they started yesterday, but I'm only taking Tuesday/Thursday classes so for me, they started today. Anyway.
I'm taking four classes, from 9:30-3:30. No breaks in between for lunch (that is called poor planning, people), but since today was mainly just going over the syllabus, I got out of almost all my classes 45 minutes early.
After my 11:00 class which I got out of about 11:40, I was starving, so I decided to head over to the University Center for lunch. I got Chickfila. It was yummy.
Anyway.
It's always really awkward trying to find seating in there. Because all the tables are usually occupied by multiple people...it's really hard to find one seat that's appropriately spaced from the other groups at the same table. But eventually I found one and sat down to enjoy my lunch.
Anyway.
I was facing another table, and a guy sat down on the side facing me with a Subway sandwich. While he was eating, I happened to notice a piece of lettuce stuck to his lip. So naturally, I did what anyone would do in this situation: I stared at it.
I wanted to see if it would fall off or if it was going to stay stuck there. So I'm staring at this guy for like, I don't know, a minute, when suddenly, he looks up. Right at me.
I quickly avert my gaze.
I turn my head slightly to look back down at my food, and out of my peripheral vision I see this guy smiling and waving at me.
Do I wave back? Do I acknowledge him? What do I do?
Well, I'll tell you what I did.
I mustered up some courage and eked out a very, VERY timid smile that you would only notice if you were looking for it really, REALLY hard.
And then he starts to get up. And I'm FREAKING out.
This is essentially what went through my head: Oh my gosh he's getting up. Oh my gosh. Is he coming over here? Don't look. Whatever you do don't look. Oh my gosh. Does he think you were trying to communicate interest? How do I explain to him that I was staring at him because he had a piece of lettuce stuck to his lip? This is going to be soooo awkward.
Anyway.
He gets up. And as he's doing so, he's saying something, but I can't tell what. And he starts walking...and he's getting closer and closer...
And he completely ignores me as he walks by and joins his friends at a different table.
Apparently, when I was staring at the lettuce on his lip, some friends of his at another table spotted him and yelled his name, which is why he looked up. And then the whole time he was smiling and waving at them, not me. Which hopefully means he didn't notice me smiling.
So I guess it wasn't really an awkward moment...but it almost was.
I felt awkward, at least.
REALLY awkward.
Moral of the story: don't stare at lettuce on strangers' lips.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
And Then the Clouds Came Out.
My day was...stressful, mostly. Let me start at 7:00 this morning.
I had a speech today in speech class. A speech I was freaking out about. Especially since I had a dream the other night that I was COMPLETELY unprepared for it.
We had a lot of stuff to bring for it: an outline, a reference page, a visual aid, and a memory card so she could record us. I double checked last night to make sure I had everything I needed. And I checked again this morning.
Anyway, I got up early because I had to make sure I looked okay and everything, you know, cuz the whole class would be staring at me. My car was also out of gas, so I needed to stop at a gas station so that my car didn't break down or anything on my way to school.
So I leave earlier than normal to get gas and get there in plenty of time to prepare for my speech. It's 7:15 and I'm probably about 10 minutes away from my house when I remember a dream I had last night.
In my dream, it was speech day, and I didn't have my memory card. Thankfully, in my dream, the teacher had extra cards so it wasn't a big deal. But that got me thinking...did I pack my card? I didn't double check this morning to make sure I had it...did I pack it last night? I couldn't remember. So as I'm driving I have one hand in my bag digging around for it. And I can't find it. So I take the next exit, pull into a gas station, and do a thorough search of my bag. Nothing.
So now I'm starting to panic. I'm going to have to go home and get it. But what if it's not there? Then I would have just wasted about 20 minutes. So I decide to call my mom to have her check and see if it's still sitting on my desk. I call her twice, and there's no answer. So I start driving back. I decide to call my dad, even though I know he's at the airport dropping off my grandpa, just in case he's back already. But he's not. So, it's about 7:25 now and I run inside (leaving my car on because I don't have time to turn it off, and praying that no one steals it). Thankfully, it's still on my desk so I grab it and run. I'm in and out in about 30 seconds. Record time.
Anyway, I made it to school barely on time. I walked in right at 8, as opposed to about 7:30 when I would have gotten there had this little setback not happened. As you can imagine, I was a little frazzled the rest of the morning. And imagining everything that could go wrong. And feeling like I was going to throw up on the person in front of me (except no one sits in front of me, so I guess that's a plus).
But I think my speech went pretty well. Everything worked and I didn't forget anything and I stayed (barely) within the time limits. So, now I just have to wait for my evaluation.
By the way, I think the dream I had, and the fact that I remembered it before I was too far from home, was totally a God thing. Because He's awesome like that.
The next stressful thing that happened was one of my professors scheduled a test on a day that I'm not going to be in class...so now I have to talk to him and see if I can take it another time and then figure out a time I can take it which is going to be difficult because I have approximately 15 minutes of free time between the hours of 8 and 4 on weekdays. And I doubt he'll let me take the test at home.
And THEN to top it all off, I went to McDonald's for lunch and ordered my usual cheeseburger, plain and dry. PLAIN AND DRY. I go to eat my burger after I leave and it has ketchup, pickles, mustard, and onions on it. Not the definition of plain and dry.
So I had to wait until I got to work to eat it so I could scrape off all the gross stuff because it's hard to do that in the car. But by then, it was getting cold and the cheese was gross and the ketchup and mustard had absorbed into the bread. So, being the clever person that I am, I cut off the parts of the bread that I couldn't eat. And it still tasted terrible, and I almost threw up once (that's twice today, folks), but at least I wasn't hungry.
And then, as if it knew exactly how my day was going, the sun disappeared and a billion clouds came out of nowhere and made the sky all gray and dark. I even took off my sunglasses. Y'all, I once wore my sunglasses while watching fireworks because they were too bright for my sensitive eyes. This is a big deal.
I kept thinking today was Tuesday, because normally these things happen to me on Tuesdays. (Tuesdays hate me, if you haven't heard). But thankfully, it is Thursday, tomorrow is Friday (Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday...haha. Now it's in your head.) and then it's the WEEKEND. My favorite word. (After euphemism, of course).
On the bright side, I was totally having a great hair day. It was all soft and everything.
I had a speech today in speech class. A speech I was freaking out about. Especially since I had a dream the other night that I was COMPLETELY unprepared for it.
We had a lot of stuff to bring for it: an outline, a reference page, a visual aid, and a memory card so she could record us. I double checked last night to make sure I had everything I needed. And I checked again this morning.
Anyway, I got up early because I had to make sure I looked okay and everything, you know, cuz the whole class would be staring at me. My car was also out of gas, so I needed to stop at a gas station so that my car didn't break down or anything on my way to school.
So I leave earlier than normal to get gas and get there in plenty of time to prepare for my speech. It's 7:15 and I'm probably about 10 minutes away from my house when I remember a dream I had last night.
In my dream, it was speech day, and I didn't have my memory card. Thankfully, in my dream, the teacher had extra cards so it wasn't a big deal. But that got me thinking...did I pack my card? I didn't double check this morning to make sure I had it...did I pack it last night? I couldn't remember. So as I'm driving I have one hand in my bag digging around for it. And I can't find it. So I take the next exit, pull into a gas station, and do a thorough search of my bag. Nothing.
So now I'm starting to panic. I'm going to have to go home and get it. But what if it's not there? Then I would have just wasted about 20 minutes. So I decide to call my mom to have her check and see if it's still sitting on my desk. I call her twice, and there's no answer. So I start driving back. I decide to call my dad, even though I know he's at the airport dropping off my grandpa, just in case he's back already. But he's not. So, it's about 7:25 now and I run inside (leaving my car on because I don't have time to turn it off, and praying that no one steals it). Thankfully, it's still on my desk so I grab it and run. I'm in and out in about 30 seconds. Record time.
Anyway, I made it to school barely on time. I walked in right at 8, as opposed to about 7:30 when I would have gotten there had this little setback not happened. As you can imagine, I was a little frazzled the rest of the morning. And imagining everything that could go wrong. And feeling like I was going to throw up on the person in front of me (except no one sits in front of me, so I guess that's a plus).
But I think my speech went pretty well. Everything worked and I didn't forget anything and I stayed (barely) within the time limits. So, now I just have to wait for my evaluation.
By the way, I think the dream I had, and the fact that I remembered it before I was too far from home, was totally a God thing. Because He's awesome like that.
The next stressful thing that happened was one of my professors scheduled a test on a day that I'm not going to be in class...so now I have to talk to him and see if I can take it another time and then figure out a time I can take it which is going to be difficult because I have approximately 15 minutes of free time between the hours of 8 and 4 on weekdays. And I doubt he'll let me take the test at home.
And THEN to top it all off, I went to McDonald's for lunch and ordered my usual cheeseburger, plain and dry. PLAIN AND DRY. I go to eat my burger after I leave and it has ketchup, pickles, mustard, and onions on it. Not the definition of plain and dry.
So I had to wait until I got to work to eat it so I could scrape off all the gross stuff because it's hard to do that in the car. But by then, it was getting cold and the cheese was gross and the ketchup and mustard had absorbed into the bread. So, being the clever person that I am, I cut off the parts of the bread that I couldn't eat. And it still tasted terrible, and I almost threw up once (that's twice today, folks), but at least I wasn't hungry.
And then, as if it knew exactly how my day was going, the sun disappeared and a billion clouds came out of nowhere and made the sky all gray and dark. I even took off my sunglasses. Y'all, I once wore my sunglasses while watching fireworks because they were too bright for my sensitive eyes. This is a big deal.
I kept thinking today was Tuesday, because normally these things happen to me on Tuesdays. (Tuesdays hate me, if you haven't heard). But thankfully, it is Thursday, tomorrow is Friday (Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday...haha. Now it's in your head.) and then it's the WEEKEND. My favorite word. (After euphemism, of course).
On the bright side, I was totally having a great hair day. It was all soft and everything.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Almost a Good Samaritan.
The other day I was driving home and pulled into my neighborhood. And on the sidewalk was sitting a crate.
The crate had a sign on it. It had a picture of something, but I couldn't tell what. The only word I could make out was "FOUND."
I kept driving, but thought it was weird that someone would set out a crate with a found sign on it rather than just, you know, doing what most people do and taping the posters up on light poles and whatnot.
And then, as I'm about to pull into my driveway, the thought occurs to me: Ohmygosh what if there's a puppy trapped inside that crate!
Keep in mind that I live in Texas and it's like at least 100 degrees here. Texas heat + puppy - water = dead puppy.
So I pulled into my driveway, ran upstairs and quickly changed into some clothes that wouldn't cause me to melt into a puddle. Then, I went for a little stroll. You know, in the scorching, furnace-like, Texas summer heat. All the way to the entrance of our neighborhood (it's about, like, half a mile, total, going there and back to my house. Maybe less. I don't know. But it felt SUPER LONG.)
I was going to be the super hero. Save the poor dehydrated puppy in that crate. Take it home and give it water and if it was a chihuahua, name it Jorge (pronounced "hor-hay", not "George". Chihuahuas are Mexican and therefore deserve the Spanish pronunciation of the name).
So, I got there, looked in the crate...and it was empty.
Well, it wasn't empty...there were rocks inside. You know, so the crate wouldn't blow away. You know, because there's so much wind in Texas in the summer. (I wish...)
And in all honesty, as relieved as I am that there wasn't a puppy in there...I was also kind of disappointed. I wanted to bring home a puppy. (Plus it was SO not worth the walk).
So I trudged back another half mile (or whatever) in the scorching heat and then went swimming in my imaginary pool to cool off. Since, you know, this story is full of things that I wish had happened but didn't.
So that's my I-almost-saved-the-day-but-didn't-because-I-underestimated-the-goodness-of-mankind story. I have a couple of those, now.
I have an active/slightly wild imagination.
But it's okay. My mom still thinks I'm great and that means I must be doing something right.
...right?
The crate had a sign on it. It had a picture of something, but I couldn't tell what. The only word I could make out was "FOUND."
I kept driving, but thought it was weird that someone would set out a crate with a found sign on it rather than just, you know, doing what most people do and taping the posters up on light poles and whatnot.
And then, as I'm about to pull into my driveway, the thought occurs to me: Ohmygosh what if there's a puppy trapped inside that crate!
Keep in mind that I live in Texas and it's like at least 100 degrees here. Texas heat + puppy - water = dead puppy.
So I pulled into my driveway, ran upstairs and quickly changed into some clothes that wouldn't cause me to melt into a puddle. Then, I went for a little stroll. You know, in the scorching, furnace-like, Texas summer heat. All the way to the entrance of our neighborhood (it's about, like, half a mile, total, going there and back to my house. Maybe less. I don't know. But it felt SUPER LONG.)
I was going to be the super hero. Save the poor dehydrated puppy in that crate. Take it home and give it water and if it was a chihuahua, name it Jorge (pronounced "hor-hay", not "George". Chihuahuas are Mexican and therefore deserve the Spanish pronunciation of the name).
So, I got there, looked in the crate...and it was empty.
Well, it wasn't empty...there were rocks inside. You know, so the crate wouldn't blow away. You know, because there's so much wind in Texas in the summer. (I wish...)
And in all honesty, as relieved as I am that there wasn't a puppy in there...I was also kind of disappointed. I wanted to bring home a puppy. (Plus it was SO not worth the walk).
So I trudged back another half mile (or whatever) in the scorching heat and then went swimming in my imaginary pool to cool off. Since, you know, this story is full of things that I wish had happened but didn't.
So that's my I-almost-saved-the-day-but-didn't-because-I-underestimated-the-goodness-of-mankind story. I have a couple of those, now.
I have an active/slightly wild imagination.
But it's okay. My mom still thinks I'm great and that means I must be doing something right.
...right?
Monday, January 30, 2012
I'm Skipping School Today.
This is something I rarely do. Mainly because, I'm terrible at being sick. Meaning: I hate doctors, so I don't go to one. I hate medicine, so I don't take it. I hate skipping school, so I don't. I even went to one of my classes when I was almost literally on my death bed at home with the flu. True story. That was pointless, though. I was so out of it I might as well have been at home sleeping. Oh yeah! And I went to voice lessons every week when I had bronchitis (bronchitis typically lasts 4 weeks...but I got it again a week after it went away for a grand total of 8 weeks). And I did a recital. I sounded terrible, but I just don't do the whole staying-in-bed-resting-taking-medicine-doctors-orders thing.
Anyway, so I'm not at school right now because for the past two days my stomach has felt weird. We think I have some sort of virus. I'm feeling a little better today than I did yesterday or Saturday, but you never know with stomach viruses what could happen. And it might be contagious or whatever. Sooo here I am, missing school, kind of enjoying it but at the same time feeling guilty because I honestly don't feel that horrible right now, and bored out of my mind.
So, I thought I'd share something extremely funny that happened yesterday in my elementary school girls' class at church (no, I'm not in the class...I help teach it).
We were playing a review game where the girls were asked a question, and then 3 of the assistant teachers each gave a multiple choice question. The girls then conferred with their teams and chose the correct answer. (Some of the multiple choice answers were pretty obviously not correct).
Anyway, here's the funny part. I'm person B.
Teacher: Okay, the next question is...who was the Bible inspired by?
Person A: I think the Bible was inspired by Jesus, because the whole Bible is about him!
Person B: Well, I think the Bible is inspired by Pastor Harold*, because he just has so much wisdom!
Person C: I think it was inspired by President Obama, you know, because he's the president and everything!
...wait for it...
Little girl: But he's not wise at all!!
*The pastor of my church
___________________________________________________________________
Disclaimer: I share this story simply because it was funny to hear coming from a 2nd grader's mouth. I am in no way looking for a political discussion on this topic and any comments reflecting political views will be deleted. So please, enjoy the story and keep any political opinions to yourself. (I probably won't have a problem with this, but better safe than sorry. :-) ) Thank you!
Anyway, so I'm not at school right now because for the past two days my stomach has felt weird. We think I have some sort of virus. I'm feeling a little better today than I did yesterday or Saturday, but you never know with stomach viruses what could happen. And it might be contagious or whatever. Sooo here I am, missing school, kind of enjoying it but at the same time feeling guilty because I honestly don't feel that horrible right now, and bored out of my mind.
So, I thought I'd share something extremely funny that happened yesterday in my elementary school girls' class at church (no, I'm not in the class...I help teach it).
We were playing a review game where the girls were asked a question, and then 3 of the assistant teachers each gave a multiple choice question. The girls then conferred with their teams and chose the correct answer. (Some of the multiple choice answers were pretty obviously not correct).
Anyway, here's the funny part. I'm person B.
Teacher: Okay, the next question is...who was the Bible inspired by?
Person A: I think the Bible was inspired by Jesus, because the whole Bible is about him!
Person B: Well, I think the Bible is inspired by Pastor Harold*, because he just has so much wisdom!
Person C: I think it was inspired by President Obama, you know, because he's the president and everything!
...wait for it...
Little girl: But he's not wise at all!!
*The pastor of my church
___________________________________________________________________
Disclaimer: I share this story simply because it was funny to hear coming from a 2nd grader's mouth. I am in no way looking for a political discussion on this topic and any comments reflecting political views will be deleted. So please, enjoy the story and keep any political opinions to yourself. (I probably won't have a problem with this, but better safe than sorry. :-) ) Thank you!
Friday, January 20, 2012
Worst. Babysitting Experience. EVER.
Okay, so normally I try to just post happy/funny/random/profound things on this blog. BUT last night was sooo frustrating, that I feel the need to tell everyone exactly what happened. And actually, there's a good chance it will turn out to be a funny story because it has to do with none other than more Kayla-deficient technology....
So, last night I was babysitting, as I often do. I mean seriously. I babysit a lot. Well, sometimes. It kind of comes in spurts. Like, there will be several weeks in a row where I babysit 2-3 times a week, and then there will be several weeks where I don't babysit at all.
Anyway, on to the story. I was babysitting a little 3-year-old girl that I probably babysit more than any other child. I usually don't have any problems with her. She did go through this one phase of, like, separation anxiety or something when she would randomly start crying because she missed her parents. But me, being the super-sitter that I am, figured out the cure for that: singing Old McDonald Had A Farm, over and over and over....
That phase didn't last long though. It was over almost as quickly as it started. But last night...I don't know WHAT happened...but she randomly started crying about 2 hours in.
"Why are you crying?" I asked.
"I don't know," she would reply. And then promptly stop crying.
"Do you want to play with your computer?" I suggested. She has a click-start Leap Frog computer or something. She was happy with that suggestion so we started it up, and I went to go make myself some toast because I had forgotten to eat dinner before I came. While I'm making toast, she walks in and says, "I'm tired!"
I look at the clock. It's 7. Her bed time is 9. I don't feel authorized to put her to bed THAT early, so I suggest she keep playing with her computer. She sits down but does nothing with it. She says she doesn't want to play it anymore. So I suggest watching a movie.
She likes this idea! Yay! A happy camper. So we pick out a VHS (or an old school video, in case you read that and went "what?") and I go put it in the VCR. As a side note, I have ALWAYS been able to work their TV in the past. But now, it's not working.
After trying various things to get it to work, I switch to a DVD. Well, guess what? The DVD player won't open. I try for a few minutes, then decide to try a different VHS. Still doesn't work. Try the DVD player again. Nope. The little girl starts crying. Fantastic.
Wait! I have a brilliantly ingenious idea! You can watch DVDs on laptops. They have a laptop. I have a DVD. Fantastic! I locate the laptops (there's two). This is so going to work and the kid will be happy and I can eat my toast that is still sitting on the kitchen counter.
Well...for some unknown reason that makes absolutely NO sense to me, the laptops wouldn't play the DVD. Neither of them. I tried both. TWICE. They wouldn't play it. I tried EVERYTHING. I opened 3 different programs on the laptops that should be able to play DVDs and I couldn't get anything to work.
At this point, the girl is FLIPPING out because she wants to watch Blue's Clues, which halfway through switched to Veggie Tales just making my life more difficult, and I'm frustrated and about to throw these laptops against the wall along with the VCR and the DVD player. But I refrain, because these items do not belong to me.
So, like I said, she's freaking out which stresses me out even more and I'm trying so hard not to yell at the poor child. I keep asking her why she's crying and all I get is "I don't know!"
I'm not even kidding, I was about to start crying. Seemed like the easiest solution at this point.
And normally, this would be the part where I tell you how I saved the day and fixed the laptop, we watched Veggie Tales and everyone lived happily ever after. But alas, that is not what happened. Instead, I gave up. Yep. I put the laptops away and the movies away and I said, "Okay, we're not watching a movie."
She wasn't happy.
Now this is the part where I save the day. She wanted to watch Veggie Tales so much, but we couldn't. So this is where my second brilliantly ingenious idea of the night comes in. I remember they have a Veggie Tales CD. Sooo I find it with my awesome scavenger hunt skills, pop it in the CD player (which is apparently the only technological item that is not part of the technology conspiracy against me), and she remains happy until bedtime.
Win.
So now it's an hour later, I've acquired a headache, and I still haven't eaten my toast. But at least the little girl was happy and there was no more crying--from either of us--the rest of the night.
I hope that ending was happy enough for you, because that's all I've got.
May all your babysitting adventures go much smoother than mine did last night.
So, last night I was babysitting, as I often do. I mean seriously. I babysit a lot. Well, sometimes. It kind of comes in spurts. Like, there will be several weeks in a row where I babysit 2-3 times a week, and then there will be several weeks where I don't babysit at all.
Anyway, on to the story. I was babysitting a little 3-year-old girl that I probably babysit more than any other child. I usually don't have any problems with her. She did go through this one phase of, like, separation anxiety or something when she would randomly start crying because she missed her parents. But me, being the super-sitter that I am, figured out the cure for that: singing Old McDonald Had A Farm, over and over and over....
That phase didn't last long though. It was over almost as quickly as it started. But last night...I don't know WHAT happened...but she randomly started crying about 2 hours in.
"Why are you crying?" I asked.
"I don't know," she would reply. And then promptly stop crying.
"Do you want to play with your computer?" I suggested. She has a click-start Leap Frog computer or something. She was happy with that suggestion so we started it up, and I went to go make myself some toast because I had forgotten to eat dinner before I came. While I'm making toast, she walks in and says, "I'm tired!"
I look at the clock. It's 7. Her bed time is 9. I don't feel authorized to put her to bed THAT early, so I suggest she keep playing with her computer. She sits down but does nothing with it. She says she doesn't want to play it anymore. So I suggest watching a movie.
She likes this idea! Yay! A happy camper. So we pick out a VHS (or an old school video, in case you read that and went "what?") and I go put it in the VCR. As a side note, I have ALWAYS been able to work their TV in the past. But now, it's not working.
After trying various things to get it to work, I switch to a DVD. Well, guess what? The DVD player won't open. I try for a few minutes, then decide to try a different VHS. Still doesn't work. Try the DVD player again. Nope. The little girl starts crying. Fantastic.
Wait! I have a brilliantly ingenious idea! You can watch DVDs on laptops. They have a laptop. I have a DVD. Fantastic! I locate the laptops (there's two). This is so going to work and the kid will be happy and I can eat my toast that is still sitting on the kitchen counter.
Well...for some unknown reason that makes absolutely NO sense to me, the laptops wouldn't play the DVD. Neither of them. I tried both. TWICE. They wouldn't play it. I tried EVERYTHING. I opened 3 different programs on the laptops that should be able to play DVDs and I couldn't get anything to work.
At this point, the girl is FLIPPING out because she wants to watch Blue's Clues, which halfway through switched to Veggie Tales just making my life more difficult, and I'm frustrated and about to throw these laptops against the wall along with the VCR and the DVD player. But I refrain, because these items do not belong to me.
So, like I said, she's freaking out which stresses me out even more and I'm trying so hard not to yell at the poor child. I keep asking her why she's crying and all I get is "I don't know!"
I'm not even kidding, I was about to start crying. Seemed like the easiest solution at this point.
And normally, this would be the part where I tell you how I saved the day and fixed the laptop, we watched Veggie Tales and everyone lived happily ever after. But alas, that is not what happened. Instead, I gave up. Yep. I put the laptops away and the movies away and I said, "Okay, we're not watching a movie."
She wasn't happy.
Now this is the part where I save the day. She wanted to watch Veggie Tales so much, but we couldn't. So this is where my second brilliantly ingenious idea of the night comes in. I remember they have a Veggie Tales CD. Sooo I find it with my awesome scavenger hunt skills, pop it in the CD player (which is apparently the only technological item that is not part of the technology conspiracy against me), and she remains happy until bedtime.
Win.
So now it's an hour later, I've acquired a headache, and I still haven't eaten my toast. But at least the little girl was happy and there was no more crying--from either of us--the rest of the night.
I hope that ending was happy enough for you, because that's all I've got.
May all your babysitting adventures go much smoother than mine did last night.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Ever Wonder What It's Like To Be Me?
Probably not, but I'll tell you anyway.
I kid you not, all of these things have happened to me within the past week.
At my church Christmas party last Wednesday night, we had a gift exchange. There were about 50 of us there and we all drew numbers to see what order we would go in. I was number 29. After the gift exchange, there was a pinata. The person in charge of the party (Stephen) told us to hold onto our numbers, as he would be calling them out randomly to determine who would get to hit the pinata. At this point, the following dialogue took place:
Me: (to Christopher) "I am totally okay with not getting to hit the pinata. I'm terrible at pinatas. I always miss or hit someone...or myself."
Stephen: "TWENTY-NINE!"
Me: "You have got to be kidding me."
Of all the numbers between 1 and 50. I totally missed the pinata, too.
Thursday, I had gotten home from work and was working on some school work (yes I'm out of school...I still have school work), when I decided that I was hungry. So I made myself a nice bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios with milk. When I had finished, I set the bowl (that still had some milk in it) on the table behind me as I didn't feel like getting up at the moment and rinsing the bowl.
About ten minutes later, I start playing with my hair. It's wet.
"Why is my hair wet...?" I say. Then I turn around. "Oh, because there's a bowl of milk behind me." Everyone started laughing at me as I ran to the kitchen to rinse my hair.
That same night, I am getting ready to leave for my senior class Christmas party when I had this conversation with my mom:
Mom: "What are they feeding you for dinner?"
Me: "I have no idea."
Mom: "I hope it's something you like. What if it's lasagna?"
Me: "Eww...I hope not!" (For anyone who doesn't know...I hate lasagna. With a passion.)
I arrive at the party.
Meagan: "Where's Ben? Isn't he supposed to bring the lasagna?"
I didn't eat dinner that night.
Last one, I promise.
We all know that technology hates me.
This past Friday and Saturday I was in Kansas (I'll post about that later). I brought my laptop with me so that I wouldn't be bored if I had any random down time in the hotel. It's a good thing I didn't.
They gave me a code to access the wifi. Well, I start up my computer, try to connect to the internet, and it never asks for a code. So of course, it won't connect. After a few tries my mom calls the front desk to find out why.
After a loooooong time on hold and lot of complicated questions from tech support, we figured out that the room we were in (of course, just our room) had an invalid IP address and we couldn't get the wifi. They were never able to fix it.
On top of all that, we should have still been able to use the wifi on our phones. My mom could. She connected, entered the code, and everything worked just peachy on her phone. But for me, did it ask for the code? No. Did it work anyway? No. I used sooo much data at that hotel...
The good thing about all this stuff happening to me, is that it entertains everyone else. Which is the point of this post. So I hope you enjoyed it. haha
[Update:] So, apparently, there is a part two to this post from Christopher's point of view. Don't believe anything it says--it's all lies.
I kid you not, all of these things have happened to me within the past week.
_____________________________________________________________
At my church Christmas party last Wednesday night, we had a gift exchange. There were about 50 of us there and we all drew numbers to see what order we would go in. I was number 29. After the gift exchange, there was a pinata. The person in charge of the party (Stephen) told us to hold onto our numbers, as he would be calling them out randomly to determine who would get to hit the pinata. At this point, the following dialogue took place:
Me: (to Christopher) "I am totally okay with not getting to hit the pinata. I'm terrible at pinatas. I always miss or hit someone...or myself."
Stephen: "TWENTY-NINE!"
Me: "You have got to be kidding me."
Of all the numbers between 1 and 50. I totally missed the pinata, too.
_____________________________________________________________
About ten minutes later, I start playing with my hair. It's wet.
"Why is my hair wet...?" I say. Then I turn around. "Oh, because there's a bowl of milk behind me." Everyone started laughing at me as I ran to the kitchen to rinse my hair.
_____________________________________________________________
That same night, I am getting ready to leave for my senior class Christmas party when I had this conversation with my mom:
Mom: "What are they feeding you for dinner?"
Me: "I have no idea."
Mom: "I hope it's something you like. What if it's lasagna?"
Me: "Eww...I hope not!" (For anyone who doesn't know...I hate lasagna. With a passion.)
I arrive at the party.
Meagan: "Where's Ben? Isn't he supposed to bring the lasagna?"
I didn't eat dinner that night.
_____________________________________________________________
Last one, I promise.
We all know that technology hates me.
This past Friday and Saturday I was in Kansas (I'll post about that later). I brought my laptop with me so that I wouldn't be bored if I had any random down time in the hotel. It's a good thing I didn't.
They gave me a code to access the wifi. Well, I start up my computer, try to connect to the internet, and it never asks for a code. So of course, it won't connect. After a few tries my mom calls the front desk to find out why.
After a loooooong time on hold and lot of complicated questions from tech support, we figured out that the room we were in (of course, just our room) had an invalid IP address and we couldn't get the wifi. They were never able to fix it.
On top of all that, we should have still been able to use the wifi on our phones. My mom could. She connected, entered the code, and everything worked just peachy on her phone. But for me, did it ask for the code? No. Did it work anyway? No. I used sooo much data at that hotel...
_____________________________________________________________
The good thing about all this stuff happening to me, is that it entertains everyone else. Which is the point of this post. So I hope you enjoyed it. haha
[Update:] So, apparently, there is a part two to this post from Christopher's point of view. Don't believe anything it says--it's all lies.
Friday, November 25, 2011
The Texting Mannequin.
Soooo....I don't know if anyone's noticed, but I've been kind of MIA recently. The last couple weeks have been CRAZY. Reason being, the week before Thanksgiving is the week that all the teachers decide to make big projects/tests due. And due to my play being the week before, I was already behind. And then I've actually been surprisingly busy this week preparing for Thanksgiving. But now Thanksgiving is over and I actually have some time to accomplish some of the things on my "To Do Over Thanksgiving Break" list that has been slowly gathering dust...
Anyway, Thanksgiving yesterday was AWESOME. But I'll post about that tomorrow or Sunday, because I have another story I want to tell right now, and I like my blog to be in chronological order.
This is a totally random story from Tuesday but I want to share it because it's kind of hilarious. It was really awkward/frightening/embarrassing at the time, but now it's just funny. :-) haha, I will try to do it justice.
So, Tuesday my friend and I were shopping at Forever 21. We were trying on some clothes in the dressing room, but I got done first. So I was looking at the clothes right outside the dressing room while waiting for her.
I knew there was a mannequin nearby and as I was looking at a dress on one of the racks, I saw it out of the corner of my eye. I sort of did a double-take, because I noticed something I didn't notice before. The mannequin was looking at something in its hands.
Was the mannequin texting? It sure looked like it. Wow, I thought. They really have our generation nailed. I wasn't quite sure how a texting mannequin would help sell clothes, but hey, I'm not their marketer. What do I know?
Then I looked again. Was that a real cell phone the mannequin had? It sure looked like it. That's weird that they would actually buy a real cell phone for a fake person...
So I got a little closer. And closer, and closer, and closer...until I was right up next to it, just staring at the cell phone.
And then it turned and looked at me.
OH MY GOSH. Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh. It was a real person! Holy crap, it was a real person. A real person that I was standing about 2 inches away from. Staring at their cell phone. I wanted to die.
As soon as she looked at me, my reflexes kicked in. I have never turned around and pretended to be interested in an ugly piece of clothing so fast in my life. Seriously. It was almost ninja-like.
I was so mortified, and the girl gave me weird looks the rest of the time I was in the store. But I don't really blame her. I would have done the same thing.
Like that one time, when I was in the girls' bathroom at a restaurant washing my hands and a man walked in. (Yes, you read right, a MAN.) I gave him weird looks every time I saw him, too. Well, actually, I just cracked up laughing. But same difference.
Anyway, that story was probably A LOT funnier in person. And to me. But I thought I'd share it anyway. :-) And look out in a few days for stories from Thanksgiving!
Anyway, Thanksgiving yesterday was AWESOME. But I'll post about that tomorrow or Sunday, because I have another story I want to tell right now, and I like my blog to be in chronological order.
This is a totally random story from Tuesday but I want to share it because it's kind of hilarious. It was really awkward/frightening/embarrassing at the time, but now it's just funny. :-) haha, I will try to do it justice.
So, Tuesday my friend and I were shopping at Forever 21. We were trying on some clothes in the dressing room, but I got done first. So I was looking at the clothes right outside the dressing room while waiting for her.
I knew there was a mannequin nearby and as I was looking at a dress on one of the racks, I saw it out of the corner of my eye. I sort of did a double-take, because I noticed something I didn't notice before. The mannequin was looking at something in its hands.
Was the mannequin texting? It sure looked like it. Wow, I thought. They really have our generation nailed. I wasn't quite sure how a texting mannequin would help sell clothes, but hey, I'm not their marketer. What do I know?
Then I looked again. Was that a real cell phone the mannequin had? It sure looked like it. That's weird that they would actually buy a real cell phone for a fake person...
So I got a little closer. And closer, and closer, and closer...until I was right up next to it, just staring at the cell phone.
And then it turned and looked at me.
OH MY GOSH. Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh. It was a real person! Holy crap, it was a real person. A real person that I was standing about 2 inches away from. Staring at their cell phone. I wanted to die.
As soon as she looked at me, my reflexes kicked in. I have never turned around and pretended to be interested in an ugly piece of clothing so fast in my life. Seriously. It was almost ninja-like.
I was so mortified, and the girl gave me weird looks the rest of the time I was in the store. But I don't really blame her. I would have done the same thing.
Like that one time, when I was in the girls' bathroom at a restaurant washing my hands and a man walked in. (Yes, you read right, a MAN.) I gave him weird looks every time I saw him, too. Well, actually, I just cracked up laughing. But same difference.
Anyway, that story was probably A LOT funnier in person. And to me. But I thought I'd share it anyway. :-) And look out in a few days for stories from Thanksgiving!
Saturday, November 12, 2011
I Fell For A Prince...Literally.
As some of you may know, yesterday I was in a play, The Princess and the Pea. I played the part of the princess, and it went really well! And there were like, over 200 people there, which was frightening slash awesome! haha
When I say it went well, I really mean it. Because even the mistakes we made turned out to be pretty hilarious.
Example 1: One of the characters accidentally knocked over part of the set, a gate, during one of the scenes. To cover, he said "That sure is a flimsy gate you've got there!" It totally worked with his character and the audience roared with laughter.
Example 2: If you know the story of the Princess and the Pea, then you know there is a bed with like 26 mattresses involved. We didn't have that...but we had a giant box made to look like 26 mattresses and one real mattress on top. There was a little ladder to get up on the bed. I was wearing a big poofy dress and am kind of clumsy (I trip a lot). Rehearsals went totally fine--no problems with getting on and off the bed. Last night, however, I totally tripped and fell. On stage with the lights on.
But don't worry guys. I totally handled it.
In the next scene, I was supposed to come back on and talk about how I didn't get any sleep because I couldn't ever get comfortable. So, in the 45 seconds I had to recover, run to the other side of backstage, assure everyone that I was totally fine, put my shoes on, and get back on stage for the last scene, I came up with a line to add.
"And this morning, I fell off the bed." To my great relief, it totally worked and everyone laughed. (I was really nervous about saying it, because it would've been suuuuuper embarrassing if no one laughed. haha)
If you know me, you know that I typically panic under pressure. Whenever things like this go wrong in plays, I'm the one to freak out and not know what to do. Like in last year's Christmas play:
We were toys in a toy shop. I was a doll, and another character was a singing soldier (one of those toys with a string on the back, and when you pull it, he sings). In the play I see his string, I pull it, but before I let go there's like 2 minutes of dialogue. Weeelll....yeah. The string broke in the middle of the dialogue. So what did I do? I pretended like nothing had happened and hoped that no one noticed.
Yeah. EVERYONE noticed. Thankfully, the other characters were able to recover nicely from that one, no thanks to me.
I'm still super impressed with myself for coming up with, according to one of my friends, the second funniest line of the night (second only to "That sure is a flimsy gate you've got there!"--the other ad lib).
I'm fine, by the way. It hurt and I have an awesome bruise on my leg, but hey, I didn't die. I was embarrassed for like, 3 seconds, but then I realized how funny it was and was trying SO HARD not to laugh the rest of the play. And it helped that I came up with that extra line to add. It puts everyone at ease when you show that you can joke about stuff like that.
I can't wait to watch the video...I want to see my face when I fell. haha
P.S. Apparently "mattress" has two "t"s...I kept spelling it with one and Firefox was FREAKING out at me with the squiggly red lines and I was like "What is your problem?" and then I right clicked and it was like "two t's!" and I felt really dumb.
When I say it went well, I really mean it. Because even the mistakes we made turned out to be pretty hilarious.
Example 1: One of the characters accidentally knocked over part of the set, a gate, during one of the scenes. To cover, he said "That sure is a flimsy gate you've got there!" It totally worked with his character and the audience roared with laughter.
Example 2: If you know the story of the Princess and the Pea, then you know there is a bed with like 26 mattresses involved. We didn't have that...but we had a giant box made to look like 26 mattresses and one real mattress on top. There was a little ladder to get up on the bed. I was wearing a big poofy dress and am kind of clumsy (I trip a lot). Rehearsals went totally fine--no problems with getting on and off the bed. Last night, however, I totally tripped and fell. On stage with the lights on.
But don't worry guys. I totally handled it.
In the next scene, I was supposed to come back on and talk about how I didn't get any sleep because I couldn't ever get comfortable. So, in the 45 seconds I had to recover, run to the other side of backstage, assure everyone that I was totally fine, put my shoes on, and get back on stage for the last scene, I came up with a line to add.
"And this morning, I fell off the bed." To my great relief, it totally worked and everyone laughed. (I was really nervous about saying it, because it would've been suuuuuper embarrassing if no one laughed. haha)
If you know me, you know that I typically panic under pressure. Whenever things like this go wrong in plays, I'm the one to freak out and not know what to do. Like in last year's Christmas play:
We were toys in a toy shop. I was a doll, and another character was a singing soldier (one of those toys with a string on the back, and when you pull it, he sings). In the play I see his string, I pull it, but before I let go there's like 2 minutes of dialogue. Weeelll....yeah. The string broke in the middle of the dialogue. So what did I do? I pretended like nothing had happened and hoped that no one noticed.
Yeah. EVERYONE noticed. Thankfully, the other characters were able to recover nicely from that one, no thanks to me.
I'm still super impressed with myself for coming up with, according to one of my friends, the second funniest line of the night (second only to "That sure is a flimsy gate you've got there!"--the other ad lib).
I'm fine, by the way. It hurt and I have an awesome bruise on my leg, but hey, I didn't die. I was embarrassed for like, 3 seconds, but then I realized how funny it was and was trying SO HARD not to laugh the rest of the play. And it helped that I came up with that extra line to add. It puts everyone at ease when you show that you can joke about stuff like that.
I can't wait to watch the video...I want to see my face when I fell. haha
P.S. Apparently "mattress" has two "t"s...I kept spelling it with one and Firefox was FREAKING out at me with the squiggly red lines and I was like "What is your problem?" and then I right clicked and it was like "two t's!" and I felt really dumb.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
With No Regrets.
This is the story of a girl who let one negative critique rule her life. A girl who failed to recognized her own talent. A girl who lost faith in herself.
This little girl grew up in a show-business family. Her parents were both fantastic actors and her dad could even sing. Her mom could paint almost as well as Picasso, and both parents had an ear for music. The little girl was pretty much destined to succeed at anything in the fine arts genre.
Pretty much ever since she uttered her first word, she was on stage in plays. She did plays, skits, and musicals for both church and school.
When she was about 9, her church started doing children's musicals. Of course, she auditioned. She loved acting, and was hoping to get a lead part.
Everyone was required to not only do an acting audition, however, but a singing audition as well. So, naturally, she auditioned for that, too. She had never really sung before, so she wasn't sure how things were going to go.
They went extremely well.
Her mom was the director for the musical, and therefore had inside information. Her mom found out that her daughter had one of the best singing auditions out of everybody.
The little girl was given a lead role and two solos. This was the first time she had ever sung in front of an audience.
And the last, for many years.
The next year, it came time for another musical. The little girl was 10 now, and thought she had the lead role in the bag. She received a callback on her acting audition. She did not, however receive a callback for singing.
She was not cast in a lead role. She was not given a solo.
She found out later, from her mother's inside information, that she was not even considered for having a solo. The judges apparently had not liked her audition. They didn't like her voice.
The little girl believed this critique. She began thinking that they were right and that she had no talent. She had no intention of ever singing again.
Well, that didn't last long, of course. She loved singing too much. Her mother enrolled her in voice lessons to improve, but that still didn't stop her from believing that she was talentless. The only people she ever let hear her sing were her mom and her voice teacher. They said she was good, but they had to. Their opinions didn't count in her mind.
This went on for about 5 years.
One day, her school decided to have a musical. Anyone with musical talent was asked to audition for a singing role. Under normal circumstances, the now 15-year-old girl would have done what she always does: fade into the background, and pretend to have no talent. Unfortunately, she didn't have that option. Her mom was, to her dismay, the director. She was, quite literally, forced to audition.
And she got the lead role, with two solos.
But that still wasn't enough to convince her that she could sing. Despite all the comments she got after the play, she didn't believe them. Not one.
In fact, it still took her 2 years after that to start regaining confidence in her ability.
After this musical where everyone realized that, hey, she can sing, many opportunities arose for the girl to sing more. And she was expected to take them.
Her mom wanted her to sing in the school talent show. She didn't.
Her parents and friends wanted her to join the worship band for the youth group. She didn't.
Her mom wanted her to audition for a recording as part of the elementary school girls' curriculum at her church. That one she did, but she regretted it. She didn't get the recording--because she sounded too mature. Not a bad critique, just not right for the part. But that didn't matter.
The judges' opinion about her voice from 5 years earlier still resonated in the back of her head. She still believed it.
Then the next school musical rolled around. Again, she was forced to audition. Again she got the lead part with solos. Again, she lacked confidence.
She put on a small concert for family and a few friends (her new voice teacher's idea, of course). This one was even worse than the musicals.
But then, she went on a mission trip. On this trip, she stepped out, and joined the worship band. She, along with her friends, led many in worship during this time. And she had a great time doing it. She actually found herself more confident than ever before, and realized that this was what she was supposed to be doing.
And finally, after three years of hiding behind the crowd, she joined her youth group's worship band.
With no regrets.
----------------
In case you didn't figure this out, this is a true story. The little girl is me. Not to say that I'm like the new Celine Dion or anything, but I am starting to think that I'm not as tone-deaf as I thought I was for so many years. I share this story for a couple reasons: One, for anyone who doesn't get why I was so coy about my singing for so long. Now you know.
Two, to show how I wasted so many years hiding my gift and feeling discouraged just because I had one bad singing day when I was 10. I chose to listen to the opinion of three people who happened to hear me on a bad day, over the opinion of hundreds who have heard me on more than one occasion.
Third, for some reason this story has been on my mind a lot lately, and writing helps me clear my thoughts. What better place to write it than here?
This little girl grew up in a show-business family. Her parents were both fantastic actors and her dad could even sing. Her mom could paint almost as well as Picasso, and both parents had an ear for music. The little girl was pretty much destined to succeed at anything in the fine arts genre.
Pretty much ever since she uttered her first word, she was on stage in plays. She did plays, skits, and musicals for both church and school.
When she was about 9, her church started doing children's musicals. Of course, she auditioned. She loved acting, and was hoping to get a lead part.
Everyone was required to not only do an acting audition, however, but a singing audition as well. So, naturally, she auditioned for that, too. She had never really sung before, so she wasn't sure how things were going to go.
They went extremely well.
Her mom was the director for the musical, and therefore had inside information. Her mom found out that her daughter had one of the best singing auditions out of everybody.
The little girl was given a lead role and two solos. This was the first time she had ever sung in front of an audience.
And the last, for many years.
The next year, it came time for another musical. The little girl was 10 now, and thought she had the lead role in the bag. She received a callback on her acting audition. She did not, however receive a callback for singing.
She was not cast in a lead role. She was not given a solo.
She found out later, from her mother's inside information, that she was not even considered for having a solo. The judges apparently had not liked her audition. They didn't like her voice.
The little girl believed this critique. She began thinking that they were right and that she had no talent. She had no intention of ever singing again.
Well, that didn't last long, of course. She loved singing too much. Her mother enrolled her in voice lessons to improve, but that still didn't stop her from believing that she was talentless. The only people she ever let hear her sing were her mom and her voice teacher. They said she was good, but they had to. Their opinions didn't count in her mind.
This went on for about 5 years.
One day, her school decided to have a musical. Anyone with musical talent was asked to audition for a singing role. Under normal circumstances, the now 15-year-old girl would have done what she always does: fade into the background, and pretend to have no talent. Unfortunately, she didn't have that option. Her mom was, to her dismay, the director. She was, quite literally, forced to audition.
And she got the lead role, with two solos.
But that still wasn't enough to convince her that she could sing. Despite all the comments she got after the play, she didn't believe them. Not one.
In fact, it still took her 2 years after that to start regaining confidence in her ability.
After this musical where everyone realized that, hey, she can sing, many opportunities arose for the girl to sing more. And she was expected to take them.
Her mom wanted her to sing in the school talent show. She didn't.
Her parents and friends wanted her to join the worship band for the youth group. She didn't.
Her mom wanted her to audition for a recording as part of the elementary school girls' curriculum at her church. That one she did, but she regretted it. She didn't get the recording--because she sounded too mature. Not a bad critique, just not right for the part. But that didn't matter.
The judges' opinion about her voice from 5 years earlier still resonated in the back of her head. She still believed it.
Then the next school musical rolled around. Again, she was forced to audition. Again she got the lead part with solos. Again, she lacked confidence.
She put on a small concert for family and a few friends (her new voice teacher's idea, of course). This one was even worse than the musicals.
But then, she went on a mission trip. On this trip, she stepped out, and joined the worship band. She, along with her friends, led many in worship during this time. And she had a great time doing it. She actually found herself more confident than ever before, and realized that this was what she was supposed to be doing.
And finally, after three years of hiding behind the crowd, she joined her youth group's worship band.
With no regrets.
----------------
In case you didn't figure this out, this is a true story. The little girl is me. Not to say that I'm like the new Celine Dion or anything, but I am starting to think that I'm not as tone-deaf as I thought I was for so many years. I share this story for a couple reasons: One, for anyone who doesn't get why I was so coy about my singing for so long. Now you know.
Two, to show how I wasted so many years hiding my gift and feeling discouraged just because I had one bad singing day when I was 10. I chose to listen to the opinion of three people who happened to hear me on a bad day, over the opinion of hundreds who have heard me on more than one occasion.
Third, for some reason this story has been on my mind a lot lately, and writing helps me clear my thoughts. What better place to write it than here?
Monday, September 12, 2011
The Binder Dilemma.
Over the years, there has been one school item that I have spent more money on than any other school supply. Paper, pencils, you name it. None can compare to the unfathomable amount of money I have invested in binders.
Typically people buy one binder a year, right? Not me. No, I have to buy at least two. My freshman year I had to buy three.
Why? Well, for one thing, binders break on me ALL THE TIME. Almost every binder I have ever owned has in some way deteriorated. I've had covers fall off, rings refuse to close, rings refuse to open, rips and tears, zippers falling off...you name it, it's happened. Not just to the cheap plastic ones, either. My horrible experience with binders includes those fancy, expensive, "durable" cloth zipper binders.
And when my binders don't break, something else happens to them. They tend to vanish.
Not kidding. Last year, around November, I put my backpack and my binder in my trunk before my last class. Apparently, my backpack had gotten caught in the door and the trunk didn't close all the way. I didn't know that, however, so after my last class, I got into my car and drove off. Somewhere along the way I noticed my door ajar light was on. Immediately I wondered if it was my trunk, because I remembered it may not have shut all the way. Sure enough, that was it.
The trunk was still mostly closed, so I was going to wait until my destination to shut it. Well, on the way, I hit a huge bump in the road and the trunk flew open, at which point I pulled over and shut the trunk.
The next day, I couldn't find my binder anywhere. I looked EVERYWHERE. It was gone. Then I remembered the trunk incident, and decided that my binder was not coming back. So I bought a new one.
Well, this new one has now lasted almost a year. Which, I should know, is always a bad sign. My binders NEVER go this long without breaking or disappearing.
Today, it was gone.
I had no idea where it went.
I woke up this morning, and it was sitting right where it should be, next to my backpack. I went downstairs with my backpack and (I thought) my binder. Got in the car. Went to school. Put my books in my classroom. No binder.
Naturally, I assume I left it in the car. So I go check. No binder.
Okay...I must have left it at home then. So during my break I go home. I check the living room. No binder.
I check my bedroom. No binder.
I check the bathroom, under my bed, the car once more.
No binder.
Really??? Again? How does a binder just vanish?
The funny thing is, it's actually the same binder that fell out of the trunk. Well, not exactly the same. But the same type. I was lucky enough to find the exact same binder--on clearance, and the last one in stock at that--when I went to go buy a new one last year.
I was about to give up on binders, when miraculously my binder reappeared...under the passenger seat in the car...where I had already looked...TWICE.
Seriously though, I'm never buying another binder again. Maybe I'll have better luck with folders.
Typically people buy one binder a year, right? Not me. No, I have to buy at least two. My freshman year I had to buy three.
Why? Well, for one thing, binders break on me ALL THE TIME. Almost every binder I have ever owned has in some way deteriorated. I've had covers fall off, rings refuse to close, rings refuse to open, rips and tears, zippers falling off...you name it, it's happened. Not just to the cheap plastic ones, either. My horrible experience with binders includes those fancy, expensive, "durable" cloth zipper binders.
And when my binders don't break, something else happens to them. They tend to vanish.
Not kidding. Last year, around November, I put my backpack and my binder in my trunk before my last class. Apparently, my backpack had gotten caught in the door and the trunk didn't close all the way. I didn't know that, however, so after my last class, I got into my car and drove off. Somewhere along the way I noticed my door ajar light was on. Immediately I wondered if it was my trunk, because I remembered it may not have shut all the way. Sure enough, that was it.
The trunk was still mostly closed, so I was going to wait until my destination to shut it. Well, on the way, I hit a huge bump in the road and the trunk flew open, at which point I pulled over and shut the trunk.
The next day, I couldn't find my binder anywhere. I looked EVERYWHERE. It was gone. Then I remembered the trunk incident, and decided that my binder was not coming back. So I bought a new one.
Well, this new one has now lasted almost a year. Which, I should know, is always a bad sign. My binders NEVER go this long without breaking or disappearing.
Today, it was gone.
I had no idea where it went.
I woke up this morning, and it was sitting right where it should be, next to my backpack. I went downstairs with my backpack and (I thought) my binder. Got in the car. Went to school. Put my books in my classroom. No binder.
Naturally, I assume I left it in the car. So I go check. No binder.
Okay...I must have left it at home then. So during my break I go home. I check the living room. No binder.
I check my bedroom. No binder.
I check the bathroom, under my bed, the car once more.
No binder.
Really??? Again? How does a binder just vanish?
The funny thing is, it's actually the same binder that fell out of the trunk. Well, not exactly the same. But the same type. I was lucky enough to find the exact same binder--on clearance, and the last one in stock at that--when I went to go buy a new one last year.
I was about to give up on binders, when miraculously my binder reappeared...under the passenger seat in the car...where I had already looked...TWICE.
Seriously though, I'm never buying another binder again. Maybe I'll have better luck with folders.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Computers Should Fear Me.
I swear I am not technologically challenged.
I'm normally pretty good with computers and the like. I'm good at figuring out how electronics work. But lately, I've been having MAJOR issues.
It all started on Monday. Oh, don't you just love Mondays that start out with nothing going right? Those are the best, no?
Yeah...no. I come into work Monday morning and attempt to log on to my computer. I enter my username. Fine. I enter my password. Okay. It says what it always says: Verifying password, please wait...
Normally this "verifying" takes about 5 seconds tops, and then I'm logged on. Yeah...I waited about 5 minutes. Then I entered my password again. Still nothing. Then, about 2 minutes later, the screen went black. Finally something is happening.
Then: No, wait, nevermind. It's making me log in again. Okay, not a big deal. So I enter my username. Fine. I enter my password. Verifying password, please wait...
FIVE MORE MINUTES.
Forget this. I'm rebooting. So I turn off my computer. I turn it back on. It starts up. And then it just stops. It gives me some error message. I don't understand, because I don't read computer. But it tells me to press F1 to retry boot. So I press F1. Nothing. I press it again. Nothing. I press it about 50 more times. Nothing.
Okay...let's try this again, shall we? Turn off computer. Turn on computer. Error message. F1. Nothing.
I literally had like 3 people trying to fix the problem. I have no idea what happened, but my computer just did not want to let me on.
Finally they decided to have me log onto another computer to see if I could get on that one. So, my friend and coworker logged off and I logged into hers. BAM. It let me in. Success. So I log out. And then her screen goes black. AND NOTHING IS WORKING ON HER COMPUTER ANYMORE.
Seriously??? Does everything I touch break? Like some sort of twisted version of King Midas?
Thankfully, her computer started back up just fine. And then, magically, so did mine. I was very glad that my computer was working again, albeit I had lost an hour of work.
And I thought that was the end of my computer problems. But then yesterday, I was trying to log onto another computer (not at work--this was at church), and everything froze.
It's highly possible that it locked me out for entering too many wrong passwords. I didn't know the password so I kept guessing...I had no idea it would just stop letting me guess...I mean, I would have gotten it eventually.
I felt like the computer was taunting me. It was probably all "Haha, you don't know the password and you suck at guessing...and I'm a cool computer and have the power to just freeze on you and make you panic and think that you've broken yet another computer..."
Yeah. It was so laughing at me.
In conclusion. If you are or have a computer, be very afraid if I am near. Bad things happen when I touch computers. Horrible, terrible, awful things.
No wonder my laptop has so many issues...
I'm normally pretty good with computers and the like. I'm good at figuring out how electronics work. But lately, I've been having MAJOR issues.
It all started on Monday. Oh, don't you just love Mondays that start out with nothing going right? Those are the best, no?
Yeah...no. I come into work Monday morning and attempt to log on to my computer. I enter my username. Fine. I enter my password. Okay. It says what it always says: Verifying password, please wait...
Normally this "verifying" takes about 5 seconds tops, and then I'm logged on. Yeah...I waited about 5 minutes. Then I entered my password again. Still nothing. Then, about 2 minutes later, the screen went black. Finally something is happening.
Then: No, wait, nevermind. It's making me log in again. Okay, not a big deal. So I enter my username. Fine. I enter my password. Verifying password, please wait...
FIVE MORE MINUTES.
Forget this. I'm rebooting. So I turn off my computer. I turn it back on. It starts up. And then it just stops. It gives me some error message. I don't understand, because I don't read computer. But it tells me to press F1 to retry boot. So I press F1. Nothing. I press it again. Nothing. I press it about 50 more times. Nothing.
Okay...let's try this again, shall we? Turn off computer. Turn on computer. Error message. F1. Nothing.
I literally had like 3 people trying to fix the problem. I have no idea what happened, but my computer just did not want to let me on.
Finally they decided to have me log onto another computer to see if I could get on that one. So, my friend and coworker logged off and I logged into hers. BAM. It let me in. Success. So I log out. And then her screen goes black. AND NOTHING IS WORKING ON HER COMPUTER ANYMORE.
Seriously??? Does everything I touch break? Like some sort of twisted version of King Midas?
Thankfully, her computer started back up just fine. And then, magically, so did mine. I was very glad that my computer was working again, albeit I had lost an hour of work.
And I thought that was the end of my computer problems. But then yesterday, I was trying to log onto another computer (not at work--this was at church), and everything froze.
It's highly possible that it locked me out for entering too many wrong passwords. I didn't know the password so I kept guessing...I had no idea it would just stop letting me guess...I mean, I would have gotten it eventually.
I felt like the computer was taunting me. It was probably all "Haha, you don't know the password and you suck at guessing...and I'm a cool computer and have the power to just freeze on you and make you panic and think that you've broken yet another computer..."
Yeah. It was so laughing at me.
In conclusion. If you are or have a computer, be very afraid if I am near. Bad things happen when I touch computers. Horrible, terrible, awful things.
No wonder my laptop has so many issues...
Friday, April 29, 2011
Tonight, My Worst Nightmare Came True.
I always knew it would happen eventually. But deep down, I always hoped it wouldn't. It was the worst thing ever. I was so scared. I was about to cry.
That's right: I got lost driving home, and my phone was dead.
Those of you who know me well are probably laughing your face off right about now.
It was the worst experience ever. I was driving home from babysitting over in Lake Worth. I couldn't remember exactly how to get home, but I knew I was supposed to go on 820. I wasn't sure if it was east or west, but I live in the southwest, so I went for west.
Last time I came home from their house, 820 took me to 35, and I could easily get home from there. So I'm on 820, and I am NOT seeing 35. 820 West turned into 820 South. Last time I drove on 820 South, I never ran into 35. Instead I ran into 20, and got home that way. So, as I'm driving down 820, I see a sign for 20 West, and think "Oh, that's where I'm supposed to go!" I exit. I immediately know that was a mistake.
Nothing looks familiar. There are no street signs. No exits. Nowhere to turn around. My phone is dead. Is this really happening to me???
I keep driving. 5 minutes later...a sign! A sign with the words "Weatherford" and "Abilene," and another sign that says "Aledo."
Um...what happened to Fort Worth?
At this point I'm pretty sure I've gone too far west, so I exit Aledo, turn around, and get on what I think is 20 East.
Now all I see are signs for Dallas, Shreveport, and downtown, none of which are places I want to go. Suddenly, the exit numbers start over at 1...wait a minute. Whenever I'm traveling on 20 East, the exit I take to get home is like 300-something...
There's no way I'm this far from home.
That's when I realize I've somehow ended up on 30 East. I'm so confused.
I see a sign for 820 South, and am about to turn back on it, when I see the next sign up says "Las Vegas Trail". I KNOW THAT SIGN! It's right after (or before, when coming east) Cherry Lane, where I have my voice lessons. So I continue on 30 and make my way home from there. Let's just say I was kind of in a rush to get home before my parents filed a missing person's report on me.
So, in a nutshell, tonight I left Lake Worth around 11, took a quick detour through Aledo, and barely made it home in time for the 12 o'clock curfew. And, in another nutshell, what I learned is: charge my phone and bring a map.
Yeah...you'd think I'd have learned that by now...
*By "tonight," I definitely mean last Friday night, when this happened and I wrote this. My internet was being stupid and wouldn't let me post it last week. This is the first chance I've gotten to post it since my internet's been back up. :)
That's right: I got lost driving home, and my phone was dead.
Those of you who know me well are probably laughing your face off right about now.
It was the worst experience ever. I was driving home from babysitting over in Lake Worth. I couldn't remember exactly how to get home, but I knew I was supposed to go on 820. I wasn't sure if it was east or west, but I live in the southwest, so I went for west.
Last time I came home from their house, 820 took me to 35, and I could easily get home from there. So I'm on 820, and I am NOT seeing 35. 820 West turned into 820 South. Last time I drove on 820 South, I never ran into 35. Instead I ran into 20, and got home that way. So, as I'm driving down 820, I see a sign for 20 West, and think "Oh, that's where I'm supposed to go!" I exit. I immediately know that was a mistake.
Nothing looks familiar. There are no street signs. No exits. Nowhere to turn around. My phone is dead. Is this really happening to me???
I keep driving. 5 minutes later...a sign! A sign with the words "Weatherford" and "Abilene," and another sign that says "Aledo."
Um...what happened to Fort Worth?
At this point I'm pretty sure I've gone too far west, so I exit Aledo, turn around, and get on what I think is 20 East.
Now all I see are signs for Dallas, Shreveport, and downtown, none of which are places I want to go. Suddenly, the exit numbers start over at 1...wait a minute. Whenever I'm traveling on 20 East, the exit I take to get home is like 300-something...
There's no way I'm this far from home.
That's when I realize I've somehow ended up on 30 East. I'm so confused.
I see a sign for 820 South, and am about to turn back on it, when I see the next sign up says "Las Vegas Trail". I KNOW THAT SIGN! It's right after (or before, when coming east) Cherry Lane, where I have my voice lessons. So I continue on 30 and make my way home from there. Let's just say I was kind of in a rush to get home before my parents filed a missing person's report on me.
So, in a nutshell, tonight I left Lake Worth around 11, took a quick detour through Aledo, and barely made it home in time for the 12 o'clock curfew. And, in another nutshell, what I learned is: charge my phone and bring a map.
Yeah...you'd think I'd have learned that by now...
*By "tonight," I definitely mean last Friday night, when this happened and I wrote this. My internet was being stupid and wouldn't let me post it last week. This is the first chance I've gotten to post it since my internet's been back up. :)
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Craziest Tuesday Night...
So, I've been wanting to start a blog for awhile now, and last night I finally got around to it. I signed up, picked a title, designed my layout...everything was looking good. Then I went to go write my first post, and realized that I had absolutely nothing to say. So, for 24 hours now, my blog has been sitting here, empty and alone, waiting for a story. And tonight, it finally gets one.
I am not a fan of Tuesdays. It's my busiest day of the week, and nothing exciting ever happens. Tuesday is for me what Monday is for most people. I hate Tuesdays, that's all there is to it.
Today was going like a normal Tuesday. Too much to do and no time to do it. Nothing exciting. Just boring old Tuesday. That all changed with one phone call.
I was out to dinner with my mom and dad, when my mom's phone rang. It was my aunt calling to inform us that my grandparents had been in a major car accident on I-20 and Park Springs. They had been traveling home from Alabama. They made it 12 hours with no problems, but couldn't make the last 15 minutes.
Several phone calls later, we finally got the whole story. It had been storming pretty badly, and some cars lost control. We don't know where it started, but an 18-wheeler swerved to try to get out of the way, lost control, and almost hit my grandparents. At the last minute, my grandma swerved, and ended up hitting another car, and everything snowballed. The result was a 52 car pile-up.
That's right: 52.
According to my grandpa, it's a good thing Grandma swerved. If she hadn't, they would have gone right under the 18-wheeler and been "decapitated."
So, after my grandparents were brought to safety at a church across the street, they called us and we set off to go pick them up. My parents almost left me at home, but I refused to be left out of the adventure. The traffic was crazy, and because all the roads were closed, we had a hard time finding the church. But, finally, after much crazy driving, frustration, and stress, we found them.
My grandparents were ok, just shaken. The car was in a ditch, not totaled, but it was going to be awhile before they could move it out of the way. They got interviewed for NBC News, but didn't make it on tv, unfortunately. That would have been so cool.
The poor people behind the accident. Westbound 20 is a PARKING LOT. It's been over 4 hours now and they're still stuck.
Anyway, it was easily the most excitement I've had in awhile. I felt like a detective--first, having to solve the mystery of finding the church my grandparents were at, and second, being at the scene of the crime. Is it bad to have enjoyed the night so much? I knew my grandparents were ok, so I found no need to worry. I loved every minute of my little adventure. Who knew a Tuesday night could hold so much excitement and suspense?
And now I'm at home, drinking a chocolate milkshake, and finally getting to write my first blog post! Could the night get any better?
Click here to see the official news story.
I am not a fan of Tuesdays. It's my busiest day of the week, and nothing exciting ever happens. Tuesday is for me what Monday is for most people. I hate Tuesdays, that's all there is to it.
Today was going like a normal Tuesday. Too much to do and no time to do it. Nothing exciting. Just boring old Tuesday. That all changed with one phone call.
I was out to dinner with my mom and dad, when my mom's phone rang. It was my aunt calling to inform us that my grandparents had been in a major car accident on I-20 and Park Springs. They had been traveling home from Alabama. They made it 12 hours with no problems, but couldn't make the last 15 minutes.
Several phone calls later, we finally got the whole story. It had been storming pretty badly, and some cars lost control. We don't know where it started, but an 18-wheeler swerved to try to get out of the way, lost control, and almost hit my grandparents. At the last minute, my grandma swerved, and ended up hitting another car, and everything snowballed. The result was a 52 car pile-up.
That's right: 52.
According to my grandpa, it's a good thing Grandma swerved. If she hadn't, they would have gone right under the 18-wheeler and been "decapitated."
So, after my grandparents were brought to safety at a church across the street, they called us and we set off to go pick them up. My parents almost left me at home, but I refused to be left out of the adventure. The traffic was crazy, and because all the roads were closed, we had a hard time finding the church. But, finally, after much crazy driving, frustration, and stress, we found them.
My grandparents were ok, just shaken. The car was in a ditch, not totaled, but it was going to be awhile before they could move it out of the way. They got interviewed for NBC News, but didn't make it on tv, unfortunately. That would have been so cool.
The poor people behind the accident. Westbound 20 is a PARKING LOT. It's been over 4 hours now and they're still stuck.
Anyway, it was easily the most excitement I've had in awhile. I felt like a detective--first, having to solve the mystery of finding the church my grandparents were at, and second, being at the scene of the crime. Is it bad to have enjoyed the night so much? I knew my grandparents were ok, so I found no need to worry. I loved every minute of my little adventure. Who knew a Tuesday night could hold so much excitement and suspense?
And now I'm at home, drinking a chocolate milkshake, and finally getting to write my first blog post! Could the night get any better?
Click here to see the official news story.
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