Driving me Crazy

The other day I was driving downtown for my friend's 22nd birthday. On my way there, a bus driver proceeded to try and pick me up...while driving a bus. For 15 blocks....WHAT?

Try and Tell Me My Life Isn't Awesome.

I double-dog dare you!

What you need to know: I'm a professional princess. No, for real.

The Mascots!

A few of the princesses (I'm Ariel)

Jesse from Toy Story

AHAHAHA. I'm Dora.

Cinderella!

Do I hear a lark in the forest? (Snow White)

Hannah. Montana.

Pinkalicious!

Ariel!

Told you :)

Love?

I just might be in love.

The other day, my laptop (named Chip) begins making concerning noises. He is ticking, not unlike a bomb. In fact, Alex, my roommate, wondered if he was, in fact, a bomb. I tell my father I need to buy an external hard drive for I fear Chip has seen his last days. We discuss this.

I take Chip to the tech people on campus. He does not reproduce the bomb noise, and the tech people shake their heads. They advise me to take him in to the Apple store. I call Apple, make an appiontment. Drive to walmart, buy an external hard drive. Bring Chip to the Apple store with the external hard drive. Again, he fails to reproduce noise. I describe the ticking noise, and the guy at the Genius Bar (R) looks very concerned. I also say I need to purchase a new battery while I am there. Genius R says "ok!" and informs me that they will replace Chip's fan and hard drive, but I'll need to pay for the battery. I am pleased with this arrangement, and leave Chip in great hands. R also says they are going to fix my keyboard/top case because it is cracked (a manufacturing problem that is merely cosmetic, ie it doesn't affect Chip's performance). And he's going to update me to the new operating system. I inform R we are best friends. I also consider asking him to marry me, but figure that's pushing my luck.

Fast forward 4 hours. R calls me, says Chip is ready to be picked up! He brings him out to me, whispers that the battery is free too, and has me sign papers. I ask R, "wait, how is all of this free?" Then I give him 2 thank-you brownies that I baked. (Don't worry, I clarify that they are 1. not a bribe and 2. not payment. They are simple a thank-you for my new best friend.) Later, R calls me to inform me that the brownies were fantastic. I think this is the beginning of a fabulous friendship. And a romantic love affair with Apple. 

Do You Work Out?

The scene:
Amy and I get back from a 10+ mile bike ride, completely soaked in sweat since it's roughly 105 degrees outside.

We lock up our bikes. A 40-something dad asks me, "Can I borrow your muscles? I need help lifting this really heavy item onto a rolling cart."

I look at my arms, then at him, then back at my arms. (Have you seen my arms?)

He thinks about reconsidering, but now it's too late for him to turn back...hope his daughter didn't want that heavy item to be in perfect condition....

I'm a Senior....no, I promise.

I am a senior. And got lost on my way to class. And had to ask someone for directions. What is my life?

Picking up a Girl 101

Hint: It is best not to throw your chewed piece of gum at a girl and then hit on her. I'd advise against that.

How To Make Sure Your Roommate Hates You

These next few posts will be dedicated to stories about various ridiculous things that happen to me...involving animals. This next story happened first semester freshman year...on a floor full of people I had never met.

1) pick a day where your roomate is already having a bad day
2) decide you want to surprise your roomate with something they really love, preferably something alive (like fish)
3) get your friends to drive you to walmart and help you pick out the cutest fish (or animal) possible
4) buy a tank (or whatever the animal needs), food, gravel, and 2 adorable fish
5) go to your friend's room, set up the fish tank, and tell everyone of the surprise for your roomate
6) be sure NOT TO READ the directions, especially the part that says to clean the bowl and gravel, and to put the fish in their bag in the tank to acclimate them to the temperature
7) instead, just put the fish in the bowl immediately and present them to your roomate
8) celebrate in your roomate's happiness and begin discussing names
9) during this name discussion, notice that the fish are going into convulsions
10) call your other friends to help you extract the fish and place them in a bowl of distilled water from your RA
11) watch your fish DIE!
12) appologize to your roomate and try to convince her that you wanted to make her day better, not worse
13) go to bed and cry.

Q: If the Early Bird Gets the Worm...

Then what does a bird with no will to live get?

Yesterday my friend Suzie requested I blog about a dark time in my life. I agreed, so without further ado, here is the story of The Half-Blind (Endangered) Eagle.

My parents and I took a trip to Saint Louis my senior year to visit colleges I wanted to maybe attend. It's a lovely fall day--crisp, Carolina blue skies, and abundant sunshine. A perfect day. After we reach Illinois, my dad asks me if I want to drive. I climb into the driver's seat, my mom sits back with her magazine, my dad begins working on his laptop, and I glance over to the right of the car. Flying beside our car is a STUNNING golden eagle/some sort of bird of prey. This thing is huge, too. We are talking at least a 5 foot wing span, maybe more. Not to mention I am cruising along at about 65-70 MPH.

This bird is taking in the perfect day in the perfect way! He is flying along effortlessly, with big, slow swoops of his wings. I admire the bird, the sunlight gleaming off of his golden and white-speckled coat. I turn my attention back to the road, glancing over occasionally at what has to be an endangered bird of prey. I've never seen anything like this bird before.

So we are cruising along, my parents and I, with the bird beside us, and as I look over at him, the bird speeds up a little bit. Just as I am thinking to myself, "Wow, that bird can fly so fast" he CUTS SUDDENLY ACROSS THE ROAD, RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! I scream. It's too fast to hit the breaks, and swerving will do nothing. It's unavoidable.

BAM! I hit the bird, and an explosion of feathers goes all over the front of our car and windshield. My parents both jump, ask me what's wrong. I burst into tears and sob, "I just killed an endangered bird!" and we look at the road disappearing behind us. Sure enough, there is the beautiful golden bird, in a crippled--and significantly less feathered--mess in the middle of the road.

I made my dad drive the rest of the way to Saint Louis.

So yesterday, literally an hour after promising Suzie I would blog about the time I killed the endangered bird, I head to work to record a song for a birthday party visit. (That is another story for another time). As I am driving, I see this bird in an intersection doing some tipsy flying circus routine. It seriously looks like it's drunk. Just when it straightens itself out, it decides to careen itself INTO MY WINDSHIELD. I'm doing vocal warm-ups at the time, and I wish you could have heard what happened. (For those of you who know music, I was going up the scale 1-3-5-7-5-3-1 on a yah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha). It went something like this "yah-ha-ha-AHHHHHH" when the bird smashed into my windshield. It left a smudge mark.

Seriously? An HOUR after Suze reminds me of the endangered bird incident? What. Is. My. Life.

To answer my question, if the early bird gets the worm, then what does the bird with no will to live get? Answer: Obliterated.

Seek Medical Attention!

Maybe you are thinking, "This girl's life isn't THAT random/awkward. She just seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people." If only it were that simple.

Proof that my life is ridiculous: 

I am allergic to the skin of limes. Deathly allergic. I carry an epipen and emergency benadryl with me at all times. And wear a medical ID bracelet.

I am also allergic to coconut, and anything derived of coconut. (Shampoo, soap, burt's bees chapstick...you get the picture). Luckily, I won't die from coconut. I just swell up (think Hitch) and lose feeling in my lips. It's kind of like having a stroke. Or going to dentist and getting wayyyyy too much novocaine.

I'm also allergic to spray on glitter (learned that the hard way), dust, ragweed, various medicines, and liars. What can you do?

Secret Admirer?

I really, really like buying things online (besides clothes, that never seems to work out).

So one time I got a sweet new camera for Christmas and needed to buy a sweet camera backpack to tote around my sweet new camera. So I ordered one from ebay. And instead of getting the camera backpack in the mail, I got a flat screen tv.

With no return address, receipt, or way to contact the sender. What. Is. My. Life.

Secret admirer? Illegal black market item sent to an unknowing civilian?

Upon further inspection, it turned out that the flat screen tv was actually a giant computer screen. Which I promptly gave to my father. (Happy Father's Day, dad!)

I got my sweet camera bag in the mail a week later. Thank you, mysterious tv/computer sender. Thank you.

Down in the Dumps

Relationships. Breakups. Heartbreak. Awkward first--and last--dates.

Think you had a terrible/awkward breakup? Cheer up. I've got that department completely covered.

At the risk of sounding jaded and bitter (which I am not, thank God), let's start at the very beginning...

There was the First Boyfriend. (Middle school relationships do not count). We dated for a lovely 2 months. He was my first kiss, yada yada. Dumped me because he didn't want to be in a relationship. The next week, he was dating one of my best friends.

The Second--and last--high school boyfriend. Dumped me via his friend's house phone while he was at a party. Didn't wanna use up his cell minutes.

The One You Never Actually Dated, but who Dumped you Countless Times because he just wanted "to be friends." (Then why do you keep taking me on dates!?)

The Summer Fling: didn't even break up with me. Merely dropped off the face of the earth, and then ignored the fact that I existed for the next month. Luckily, his roommate gave me my stuff back.

The One that Breaks all the Rules of "He's Just Not That Into You:" Dumps me on his front porch in 105 degree weather after I bake--and deliver--what are hands down the Most Delicious Cupcakes I have ever baked because I knew he was stressed out.  And I am a darn good baker. He was even sneaky enough to wait until I had placed the cupcakes in his kitchen! That one takes the cake! (Pun intended).


What. Is. My. Life.

I believe that relationships and breakups serve as learning periods of our lives. While it can hurt (or just leave you embarrassed with increased levels of awkward), these things make great lessons. And if not, it will always make a great story! Always. 

*Dun dun dunnnn*

In the spirit of classes starting soon, here is a conundrum I found myself in the first day of classes last semester...

Picture it: second semester of Junior year. You know the campus like a book. You have friends. You have a set "style" of clothing, which your mother finds debatable. It's the first day of spring semester classes, and everyone is wearing their winter clothing since the weather in STL is close to unbearable, but the classroom heat is cranked up to around 85 degrees to compensate--campus-wide.

I enter the classroom of my Least Favorite Class. Spanish. (I love the Spanish language, but something about the Spanish department at SLU makes this language, which I learned quite easily in middle school and even got through an Honors section with flying colors, IMPOSSIBLE for me to comprehend). In fact, I got my first B--ever--the semester before, in Spanish 115. Curses.

Already I'm nervous for the 210 level, which includes 6 new verb tenses and a truckload of vocab. I don't know anyone in my class, which is fine bc I make friends easily. The professor passes out the syllabus and we go over textbook info, etc. Standard stuff. Then, miracle of miracles, she lets us out early! As the class busies themselves packing up and asking questions, I suddenly hear a loud thump. I continue listening to the professor explain to the student ahead of me that he needs to purchase the lab manual (darn!) and then I hear another loud thump. Followed by another and another, and then loud pounding. By this point, I have given up listening to the professor and turn around to see what on earth is happening.

A guy from my classroom is literally body slamming the door. He realizes everyone in the class is staring at him, so he shrugs and says, "We're locked in. The doorknob is broken." Another guy tries the doorknob, and informs us that it's true.

(Side-note: The classroom we are in is at the center of the building. No windows, only 1--windowless--door. Small, made of cedar blocks.) AKA complete and total fire hazard. What. Is. My. Life.

The reality of our situation dawns on me and I start laughing. I would get trapped in my Least Favorite Class ever on the first day of classes with a room full of students. My jovial response is met with numerous death glares...and my professor calls maintenance.

Long story short, after 30 minutes of various civilians outside of the classroom attempting to free us by picking the lock with a credit card, once brilliant guy jimmies us out and we are FREE! For the rest of the year, we never closed the classroom door again.

I think this serves as a lesson: always make sure your Least Favorite Class is in a room with more than 1 escape route. You never know.

Welcome!

What. Is. My. Life. 

If I get through a week without saying that phrase, I must have seriously been sleepwalking the past 7 days.

The things that happen to me is the stuff of comedy sketch shows, funny/painful miss-placed middle-school-awkwardness (despite for the fact I'm almost 22), the random events that happen ONCE in a lifetime to a distant cousin you only met once. And yet here I am, living proof that the movie He's Just Not That Into You, while wise, can be completely off-mark. He might be really, really into you, and then suddenly, a flip switches and there WERE NO SIGNS. It just--BAM--happens. But I digress.

My life is awkward. My life is ridiculous. My life is fun, and quirky, and ohhhh so hilarious in a "thank goodness I'm not her" kind of way. And for the most part, I wouldn't change a thing. For the most part...

I decided I should keep a log of everything that happens to me, because 1. who doesn't love a great story and 2. Someday, I'll look back fondly at all of this. Every anecdote in this blog is 100% true, as crazy as it sounds.

Welcome to my life. Enjoy the ride!