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.