I'm not good at following directions.
Which is the first thing you have to understand about me to get the story I am about to relate. Seriously, I am one of the most directionally challenged people alive. My brain is all like,
"Oh, the directions say to go left? Well, we'd better turn right instead, because obviously this whole "turn left" business is just a giant plot to get us lost."
Which is usually how I end up hopelessly lost.
Which is EXACTLY what happened to me last Friday.
So, as an English Lit. major trying to get my teaching certificate, it is required for me to have a certain amount of observation hours in a school setting. This semester, I was assigned to Booker T. Washington Magnet High School. This particular school happens to be about two minutes away from Huntingdon and it takes all of two turns to get there. But somehow, I still managed to end up on the interstate going in the OPPOSITE direction of where I needed to go.
So there I was, driving along the interstate in the general direction of Georgia, screaming at my car for getting me lost, when I see a sign that has a familiar road name on it. I turn to find myself in a really swanky suburb. I'm talking high class, people. I saw a woman walking her dog while wearing high heels and what looked like a cocktail dress. Like, "Oh no, I have to go outside. I'd better dress like I'm going to the Oscars. If someone saw me in jeans they might think I was middle class, and I can't have that."
Anyway, I pull up in the driveway of one of the houses that has a woman sitting on the front porch. I tell her how lost I am, and ask for directions, which she is happy to give.
Unfortunately, as we already discussed, I am utterly incapable of following those. It's like I'm trying to decipher ancient hieroglyphics.
So, about thirty minutes later, I am again completely lost and not only screaming at my poor car, but also at the cars passing me.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MR. BIGSHOT "I DRIVE A MERCEDES"?!? YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME??? I WILL CRUSH YOU!!!!"
"HOW DARE YOU PASS ME!!! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!? YOU SHOULD BE HONORED TO FOLLOW ME!!!!!!"
"DID I SERIOUSLY JUST SEE YOU THROW A MCDONALD'S WRAPPER OUT YOUR WINDOW?!? PEOPLE LIKE YOU ARE THE CAUSES OF TEENAGE OBESITY AND GLOBAL WARMING!!!!"
Things went on in this fashion for a while, until I decided I could no longer go on. I pulled over to the first patch of grass I saw, got out of my car, and sat down, high heels and fancy dress and all, in the grass, and sobbed hysterically like a little 5 year-old. Suddenly I hear a voice say, "Do you want some lemonade, dearie?" I look up from my self-pity fest to see a kind looking woman in her seventies. I wail that I don't want lemonade. I want my mother and also I want directions. This poor old woman takes me inside her house (apparently I was sitting in her front yard) and gives me lemonade anyway. In retrospect, drinking it was probably a bad idea, because she totally could have been a rapist, even though she seemed nice. Anyway, she called the operator and got me directions yet again, waited for my hysterics to subside, and sent me off.
Well, we all know what happened.
Twenty minutes later, I am yet again lost. Except this time I'm afraid to pull over anywhere because I have somehow landed myself in the straight- up ghetto. We're talking the PROJECTS, people. I was afraid I would get shot if I pulled over. However, while trying to find a place to turn around, I see a group of police cars parked in front of one particularly shabby looking house. My mind, of course, goes "YAAAAAAY POLICE!!!! POLICE OFFICERS CAN GIVE ME DIRECTIONS AND KEEP ME FROM GETTING SHOT!!!"
So, I pull over, and get out of my car. I teeter totter my way over to the police officers in my little high heels, while saying, "Hello! I need assistance!! I'm lost! Can you help me?"
One of the officers turns to me to say something, but at that same moment MORE officers burst out of the house, holding a struggling man. It is at this point that I realize, I have interrupted a drug bust.
I watch in shock as this man is dragged to one of the squad cars, stuffed into the backseat, and taken away. The other officers follow.
I am left standing in the front yard of this drug-busted house, alone in my high heels.
I slowly turn and walk back to my car.
I drive until I see a semi-respectable looking Firestone Auto Shop, pull in the parking lot, call a friend to come save me, and promptly have a mental breakdown. By the time my friend got there to rescue me, I was huddled in my car in a sobbing, twitchy mess.
To make things worse, my car was now on empty. So we made our way to a gas station down the street. As I am waiting outside the gas station while my friend pays for the gas, a rather older man comes to stand next to me. I decide to pretend he isn't there until he goes, "Hey." I look over and decide if he was going to stab, kidnap, and/or murder me, he would have done it already, and tentatively answer, "Hello." He gives me quite possibly the creepiest look I have ever received in my life, looks me down, and goes, "Those are some nice legs you've got there, girlie."
I stand there dumbfounded until my friend comes out of the gas station and pulls me away from the creeper. I get back in my car, zombielike, and follow my friend back to campus. By this time, I have completely missed my observation hours, I have taken lemonade from a possible old woman rapist, I have successfully interrupted a drug bust, and I have been sexually harassed at a gas station.
It's all I can do to crawl in my bed.
This was four days ago, and I am still in shock. I fail to understand how I evaded getting kidnapped, raped, murdered, or at the very least sold into prostitution. God must really, really like me.
I seriously need to invest in a GPS.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
The Boyfriend Handbook
So, it's three AM and I get a text from Boyfriend asking me if I'm still awake. Normally this would tick off most girlfriends, but since Boyfriend apparently knows me pretty well, he knows I am basically nocturnal and never sleep. Mostly because at every moment of nighttime I'm too busy being paranoid that there is a crazed serial killer/rapist/one of those things from The Hills Have Eyes hiding under my bed or in my closet waiting to attack to be able to sleep. I'm actually pretty positive that I'm doomed to die at the hands of that little girl from Case 39, or The Orphan. This is why cute children are the scariest things ever.
Anyway, I text him back telling him I'm still awake and he informs me that he is about to go hunting.
I told him I was pretty sure hunting season was over. But apparently breaking the law doesn't matter to Boyfriend because he responded by asking me if I was going with him to one of his mandatory recitals at 3 PM. (He's a music major at Huntingdon, and they are required to attend a certain number of recitals per semester.) To which I asked, "3 PM tomorrow?" Which to me was an entirely valid question, but Boyfriend decided to be all sarcastic and say, "No. Today. You know, Sunday?" And I was all, "That's what I meant, smarty pants. Everyone knows it doesn't officially count as tomorrow until you can see daylight."
Which is totally and completely true, and I don't see why this concept was so hard for him. But apparently it was, because he decided not to respond to me. Of course, it was now 3:30 AM, and I was not happy with this. I was awake and needed someone to talk to. So I sent this.
ME- "TALK TO ME BECAUSE IT'S 3:30 AM AND I'M TIRED OF FACEBOOKING!!!! ALSO YOU ARE MY BOYFRIEND AND SO IT IS YOUR JOB TO ENTERTAIN ME WHEN I'M BORED AS FREAK!!!!!!"
And Boyfriend thought THIS was an acceptable reply.
BOYFRIEND- "I'm effing hungry."
This, obviously, was not the reply I was looking for at all, so I told him he was not only a complete failure at entertaining me, but that him being hungry was no news to me. Because Boyfriend is ALWAYS hungry. I then told him he was now the inspiration for my latest blog post, which was to be entirely focused on the rules of being a boyfriend (namely being there for my personal entertainment) and that he had to read it. And when he said nope, I responded by saying that one of the rules was that he had to read the rules. And since he hasn't replied to that yet, I can only assume I have stumped him with my brilliant rule-ception and that he had succumbed to my authority.
So, anyway, here is my incomplete list of Rules For Being a Good Boyfriend.
Anyway, I text him back telling him I'm still awake and he informs me that he is about to go hunting.
I told him I was pretty sure hunting season was over. But apparently breaking the law doesn't matter to Boyfriend because he responded by asking me if I was going with him to one of his mandatory recitals at 3 PM. (He's a music major at Huntingdon, and they are required to attend a certain number of recitals per semester.) To which I asked, "3 PM tomorrow?" Which to me was an entirely valid question, but Boyfriend decided to be all sarcastic and say, "No. Today. You know, Sunday?" And I was all, "That's what I meant, smarty pants. Everyone knows it doesn't officially count as tomorrow until you can see daylight."
Which is totally and completely true, and I don't see why this concept was so hard for him. But apparently it was, because he decided not to respond to me. Of course, it was now 3:30 AM, and I was not happy with this. I was awake and needed someone to talk to. So I sent this.
ME- "TALK TO ME BECAUSE IT'S 3:30 AM AND I'M TIRED OF FACEBOOKING!!!! ALSO YOU ARE MY BOYFRIEND AND SO IT IS YOUR JOB TO ENTERTAIN ME WHEN I'M BORED AS FREAK!!!!!!"
And Boyfriend thought THIS was an acceptable reply.
BOYFRIEND- "I'm effing hungry."
This, obviously, was not the reply I was looking for at all, so I told him he was not only a complete failure at entertaining me, but that him being hungry was no news to me. Because Boyfriend is ALWAYS hungry. I then told him he was now the inspiration for my latest blog post, which was to be entirely focused on the rules of being a boyfriend (namely being there for my personal entertainment) and that he had to read it. And when he said nope, I responded by saying that one of the rules was that he had to read the rules. And since he hasn't replied to that yet, I can only assume I have stumped him with my brilliant rule-ception and that he had succumbed to my authority.
So, anyway, here is my incomplete list of Rules For Being a Good Boyfriend.
THE BOYFRIEND HANDBOOK
IF YOU DO NOT DO THESE THINGS YOU FAIL AS A BOYFRIEND.
UPDATE- 2/25/12
I have now come up with Rule #12- You are not allowed to antagonize me while I am ill. It's like shooting fish in a barrel and it makes me irritated. Furthermore, when I tell you I'm pretty sure I'm gonna die, and at my funeral it is your moral obligation to cry and act pathetic and tell people how awesome I was, the proper response is "Of course I will, and I will also put together a slideshow of all your best facebook profile profile pictures to the song "I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing" because that will make everyone cry like babies."
IF YOU DO NOT DO THESE THINGS YOU FAIL AS A BOYFRIEND.
- You must read the rules. No exceptions.
- If I am awake at completely indecent hours of the morning, it is YOUR job to stay awake and entertain me with humorous text messages and witty anecdotes. If you fail at this then I reserve the right to send you the following emoticons- :( :'( >:( and if I'm really mad, D:<
- You must bring me food when I'm on my period. The only thing that doesn't make me feel like my uterus is going to fall out and then proceed to beat up the rest of my body is sugar. Like chocolate. And donuts.
- You must listen to all my pointless ranting and raving about how stupid everyone in the world is, and how much more fabulous I am in comparison. And you must agree.
- If I ask you if you think another girl is cute, then you must respond by telling me that compared to me, every other girl looks like that police woman chick in Silent Hill after she got burned by those creepy bible-bangers because they thought she was a witch.
- You are most definitely NOT allowed to pass gas in my presence. I hereby consider it a sin and if you do not comply with this rule, I reserve the right to attack you violently with air freshener and perfume AND you will be forced to sit in time-out to think about what you have done.
- You may NOT stop right in the middle of a kiss to check your cell phone if you get a text message. I guarantee you that the world is not going to implode if you don't text back immediately.
- If I am complaining to you about how another girl was rude, hurtful, or otherwise a complete butthead to me, it is your obligation as Boyfriend to verbally bash her in every way you know how. Refer to Rule #4.
- I'm the girl. You're the boy. If you don't text first, we don't talk today. End of story.
- Expanding on Rule#9, it is your responsibility to at least say "hi" to me every few hours. Call it paranoid, and not every girl will admit to it, but when a girl doesn't hear from her boyfriend for more than a few hours, he following things creep into her mind- "He's cheating on me", "He hates me", "He's mad at me", "He died in a car wreck", "He's running away to Vegas with both of the Olsen Twins". So yeah. Unless you want a paranoid wreck of a girlfriend, a text every four or five hours is appreciated.
- YOU MUST LAUGH AT ALL MY JOKES. I don't care if you don't think they're funny. If I have to listen to you talk about Modern Warfare 3 and Skyrim, you can at least do me the courtesy of pretending you appreciate what an advanced sense of humor I have and what a hilarious GENIUS I am, dangit.
UPDATE- 2/25/12
I have now come up with Rule #12- You are not allowed to antagonize me while I am ill. It's like shooting fish in a barrel and it makes me irritated. Furthermore, when I tell you I'm pretty sure I'm gonna die, and at my funeral it is your moral obligation to cry and act pathetic and tell people how awesome I was, the proper response is "Of course I will, and I will also put together a slideshow of all your best facebook profile profile pictures to the song "I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing" because that will make everyone cry like babies."
Friday, January 20, 2012
Forts, Barbara Streisand, and Boyfriend.
So today was an in-service day for my school. Which, obviously, meant only one thing last night.
Yesterday, as soon as we were all out of classes, me and my friends ran around excitedly, yelling about how we didn't have class tomorrow and we were gonna party ALL. NIGHT. LONG.
So, of course, we did what any average college students do when they party.
Alcohol? No.
Drugs? No.
Building a fort out of our mattresses and bedframes?
.......YES.
We proceeded to turn the dorm room into a magical fort of girlyness and wonder that rivaled all other forts. Seriously. It was the fort of all forts. Eight of us piled in and proceeded to "party". Which, to us, involved playing Apples to Apples, Are You a Werewolf (in which I was the werewolf a total of one time and was BEAST at it- I killed EVERYONE without getting caught. ....Metaphorically, of course.) , and MASH- which I refused to take part in because I am irrationally superstitious, but it's hilarious to find out who's going to end up married to Hugh Jackman, or have a future career as Conan O' Brian's personal groomer. Of course, the whole "no class tomorrow" ordeal led to us staying awake until ridiculously late hours- 4 AM, to be exact. I felt kinda like this.
So, needless to say, I slept for a good thirteen hours straight. I didn't wake up until around 5:30 PM. I felt kinda like this. I was informed by a friend of mine that when you sleep for more than nine hours, it doesn't count as sleep anymore, and I was told that the feat I had accomplished (sleeping for thirteen+ hours) was classified as hibernation.
So. Moving on.
Random fact about me- When I sleep during the day, I have ridiculously vivid dreams. It's pretty much the most awesome thing ever. It's like having movies on demand behind my eyelids. Except I can't really choose what I want to see. But whatever. It's still cool.
Anyway, I was in the middle of having, like, the best dream EVER. I don't know how it happened, but I had suddenly morphed into Barbara Streisand and I was singing that one song from Funny Girl that goes "I'd rather be blueeeeeeee, thinking of youuuuuu, I'd rather be blueeeee over youuuu, than be happyyyyyyy with someeeeebooodddyyy ellsseeeeee........." And I was totally rocking it. Like forreal. People in the crowd were sobbing over the heartbreaking beauty of my voice, when all of a sudden the loud, irritating sound of my Jason Derulo ringtone breaks into my fantasy dreamland and wakes me up. Needless to say, I was upset that my performance was over. I reached over groggily to pick up my phone. I had a text message from Boyfriend. The conversation that followed went like this.
BOYFRIEND- "Hey! What are you doing?"
ME- "I'm laying in bed."
BOYFRIEND- "You should write more of your book so you can finish it and make me a copy :)"
ME- "I'm too lazy to get out of bed and get my laptop..."
BOYFRIEND-"You just gonna sleep all day?"
ME- "Um no. At five I totally intend to go eat dinner."
BOYFRIEND-"That sounds boring."
ME- "Nope. Because when I sleep during the day I have super awesome dreams." (Which he had so rudely interrupted.)
At this point, Boyfriend cleverly (and sadistically) waited about an hour, enough time for me to fall back asleep and start dreaming about being a heroine in a gas station that was held up by the bad weasel guys from "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?". And THEN sent me the following text.
BOYFRIEND- "Don't fall asleep!!!!"
To which I responded-
"WHY?!??! >:(" Not "why" as in "why should I not fall asleep" but "why" as in "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME YOU TWISTED BUTTHEAD??"
Then he said-
"Did I wake you up?"
ME- "YES."
BOYFRIEND- "Awesome :)"
ME- "I'm turning my phone on silent."
This is just the kind of relationship we have.
Anyway, unable to go back to sleep, I decided to go with my friends to the lobby of our dorm and watch Rent. Which is what I'm doing right this moment and why I must end this post because it's hard to blog and sing along at the same time.
Bye!!!! :D
Yesterday, as soon as we were all out of classes, me and my friends ran around excitedly, yelling about how we didn't have class tomorrow and we were gonna party ALL. NIGHT. LONG.
So, of course, we did what any average college students do when they party.
Alcohol? No.
Drugs? No.
Building a fort out of our mattresses and bedframes?
.......YES.
We proceeded to turn the dorm room into a magical fort of girlyness and wonder that rivaled all other forts. Seriously. It was the fort of all forts. Eight of us piled in and proceeded to "party". Which, to us, involved playing Apples to Apples, Are You a Werewolf (in which I was the werewolf a total of one time and was BEAST at it- I killed EVERYONE without getting caught. ....Metaphorically, of course.) , and MASH- which I refused to take part in because I am irrationally superstitious, but it's hilarious to find out who's going to end up married to Hugh Jackman, or have a future career as Conan O' Brian's personal groomer. Of course, the whole "no class tomorrow" ordeal led to us staying awake until ridiculously late hours- 4 AM, to be exact. I felt kinda like this.
So, needless to say, I slept for a good thirteen hours straight. I didn't wake up until around 5:30 PM. I felt kinda like this. I was informed by a friend of mine that when you sleep for more than nine hours, it doesn't count as sleep anymore, and I was told that the feat I had accomplished (sleeping for thirteen+ hours) was classified as hibernation.
So. Moving on.
Random fact about me- When I sleep during the day, I have ridiculously vivid dreams. It's pretty much the most awesome thing ever. It's like having movies on demand behind my eyelids. Except I can't really choose what I want to see. But whatever. It's still cool.
Anyway, I was in the middle of having, like, the best dream EVER. I don't know how it happened, but I had suddenly morphed into Barbara Streisand and I was singing that one song from Funny Girl that goes "I'd rather be blueeeeeeee, thinking of youuuuuu, I'd rather be blueeeee over youuuu, than be happyyyyyyy with someeeeebooodddyyy ellsseeeeee........." And I was totally rocking it. Like forreal. People in the crowd were sobbing over the heartbreaking beauty of my voice, when all of a sudden the loud, irritating sound of my Jason Derulo ringtone breaks into my fantasy dreamland and wakes me up. Needless to say, I was upset that my performance was over. I reached over groggily to pick up my phone. I had a text message from Boyfriend. The conversation that followed went like this.
BOYFRIEND- "Hey! What are you doing?"
ME- "I'm laying in bed."
BOYFRIEND- "You should write more of your book so you can finish it and make me a copy :)"
ME- "I'm too lazy to get out of bed and get my laptop..."
BOYFRIEND-"You just gonna sleep all day?"
ME- "Um no. At five I totally intend to go eat dinner."
BOYFRIEND-"That sounds boring."
ME- "Nope. Because when I sleep during the day I have super awesome dreams." (Which he had so rudely interrupted.)
At this point, Boyfriend cleverly (and sadistically) waited about an hour, enough time for me to fall back asleep and start dreaming about being a heroine in a gas station that was held up by the bad weasel guys from "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?". And THEN sent me the following text.
BOYFRIEND- "Don't fall asleep!!!!"
To which I responded-
"WHY?!??! >:(" Not "why" as in "why should I not fall asleep" but "why" as in "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME YOU TWISTED BUTTHEAD??"
Then he said-
"Did I wake you up?"
ME- "YES."
BOYFRIEND- "Awesome :)"
ME- "I'm turning my phone on silent."
This is just the kind of relationship we have.
Anyway, unable to go back to sleep, I decided to go with my friends to the lobby of our dorm and watch Rent. Which is what I'm doing right this moment and why I must end this post because it's hard to blog and sing along at the same time.
Bye!!!! :D
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