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Yesterday I got caught spying on my neighbors.
I'm not really a spying kind of girl I'm just very curious. Which is code for "I was REALLY bored and couldn't bring myself to leave the house in search of more interesting forms of entertainment."
I wasn't intentionally spying. I didn't have some little command station set up at my kitchen window in hopes of seeing some unlucky individual exit their house in such a manner that I felt the need to snatch up my binoculars and frighten the poor person to death. In fact I hadn't even consciously decided I was going to spy. It just sort of happened to me. Much like how a really bad outfit can sort of just happen to you. Maybe you didn't plan it - or maybe all of its pieces looked great on their own - but together this little outfit is by and far something that should never happen again.
I was the victim here of this unfortunate mischance. The victim I tell you. Not that I'm "playing the victim" for those of you that subscribe to those types of notions - merely that sometimes people find themselves in situations beyond their control and are, as a result, victimized by their circumstances (and not their subconscious). And it was in one of these situations that I found myself when I stood up from the small computer workstation I've assembled on the floor of my living room and happened to be standing directly in front of the window - out of which I could see my next door neighbors arguing out on their front lawn.
Now Utah is like the poster child/state for "Don't Wash Your Dirty Laundry In Public." The people here are largely Mormon and as a result they tend to be very private with not only their personal affairs but their lives in general. They gossip incessantly but never actually confront each other with the information they are privy to. They also happen to be especially wary of us "Non-Mormon's". My family doesn't attend church - hasn't since I was in middle school and because of this we are somewhat removed from our neighborhood social circle. I know my neighbors on the left have too many cats, an obnoxious redheaded daughter, and are going through a divorce. My neighbors on the right are teachers, travelers, and I suspect them of having a sex life akin to that of a twenty-something PR bachelor (they have a video camera that sits in their window - information I could have lived without).
So of course when I see my Neighbors Of The Left arguing in such a public fashion I do what any normal person would. I stand there and stare like some sort of dumb turkey. It's like when there's a nearby fire and the entire county gets in their cars and goes and drives towards it even though all of our smart-people-instincts are telling us that its probably not a good idea to head in the direction that the twenty-foot flames are spewing from.
Regardless of the fact that I am actually a somewhat capable/intelligent person, when I stood up and saw this man and woman arguing outside I literally could not stop myself. I had to stand there and watch. Which is exactly what I did. Except I also moved up closer to the window and pressed my nose up against the glass in an effort to hear more - my theory here being that if you're going to watch the cheesy soap opera you might as well full-on watch it - and not just let it play while the TV is muted.
I don't know exactly where the conscious part of my brain went (maybe it went to its therapy session so it could understand why I was behaving in such a ridiculous fashion) but where ever it was - it wasn't doing it's job. So when the man, who is still chewing out his wife for one reason or another, turns and looks at me (Face: Still Pressed Into Glass) I didn't immediately realize that oh yea - he's looking at me. Moments later - brain came back from therapy and figured out that OH SHIT HE'S LOOKING AT ME. At which point I proceed to drop to the floor like some sort of retarded sloth that woke up on the wrong side of the tree branch.
I haven't felt that dumb in a really long time. It's actually kind of refreshing. However I topped it by feeling even more stupid as I crawled out of my living room on my hands and knees (to avoid being seen by Arguing Man, his wife, or anyone else who could laugh at me) into my bedroom where I spent the remainder of the night contemplating the fact that I could never leave my house again.
This is what happens when I'm left alone for the weekend with no one to talk to but the Puppy.
Showing posts with label bad luck. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad luck. Show all posts
Monday, October 6, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Me Vs. The Weather
For some reason all the really chaotic things that happen in my life tend to revolve around water. I've been attacked by sprinklers and the car wash, I'm a terrible swimmer and I really don't appreciate it when my hair gets all rained on and turns icky. Whenever there is any form of precipitation whatsoever I always seem to end up mumbling curses at the weather under my breath while trying to soak up the 4 pints of water that have taken hold in my ponytail. Not really my idea of a fun afternoon. So today when it started raining and I knew I'd have to take the puppy out and that it would be a while (for some reason it seems to take EIGHT HOURS for him to go to the bathroom) I decided to get all smart about it. I donned a bright pink raincoat and gloves and was determined not to get wet. The Weather did not appreciate this and thus began plotting to ruin my day.
Here's where the The Weather first decided to get crafty. Two doors up from my house there is a family that also owns a Shih Tzu (my puppy, Sammy, is far cuter though - just for the record). This little dog is named Zoey. He is possibly the meanest dog in the world. I swear when that dog looks at me I can just hear it making all kinds of condescending remarks about how one shouldn't go hunting for the paper in the morning with hair that looks like she just spent four hours bouncing around in an inflatable castle while rubbing a balloon on her head. To which my response is "Well you have GREEN ribbons in your hair. And I'm pretty sure you're a boy! And green is sooooooo a girl color now." followed by me sticking my tongue out at Zoey who just laughs because he knows I'm scaring all the morning joggers.
The Weather - being as smart as it is - also knows that Sammy is absolutely terrified of Zoey. Sammy is still a fairly small puppy and he gets nervous around any type of animal that isn't either a fish or an earthworm as he thinks the former is entertainment and the latter is lunch. I also may or may not have had to throw a rock at the neighbors' cat because it was chasing him. So of course right when Sammy and I head out the door for our Morning Walk/I Think I'll Run Circles Around Every Tree I Can Find While I Try And Pee On Them At The Same Time gig - here comes Zoey, shooting out if his house like a cannon and booking it straight towards Sammy and I. This is probably the only time where my dog and I have had the exact same thought at the same moment because I swear the second we saw that little black and white hairball running at us we both looked at each other with an "Oh shit." sort of face and started running towards the picnic table that across the street from the house.
In retrospect it would have been far more intelligent to just go back inside the house. But nooo. I didn't get the "Think On Your Feet" gene. Thank you mom - for keeping that and the ability to use electrical appliances without setting off the fire alarm ALL TO YOURSELF. So instead of boarding ourselves up inside my house, Sammy and I are now perched up on top of a wet picnic table trying to stay somewhat dry, while Zoey barks madly from the ground below us. What a lovely position to be in. I'm sure I look real attractive trying to hold on to a puppy that's acting like he just took a bottle of Ritalin while also avoiding getting bit by what seems to be some demon-possessed dog with pogo stick superpowers. The dog is literally trying to jump up onto the picnic table. So of course I'm freaking out - trying out all my grown-up dog commands. "Sit!" "Stay!" "GET AWAY FROM ME YOU EVIL THING!" None of which are helping - when, out of nowhere, I see a shining ray of hope. Zoey's owner has come outside for some reason or another and is now standing in his driveway up the street watching this little nightmare unfold. I start doing this frantic arm waving thing while pointing towards Zoey and yelling "Your dog is trying to EAT my dog!" And just when I think I'm home free this is what happens: Zoey's owner looks at me and - I kid you not - shrugs. And then proceeds to walk back into his house.
What. The. Hell. What kind of owner lets his dog not only run wild but chase other dogs (and the owners of said dogs)? Come on - seriously. How hard is it to call your dog's name and get it to leave me alone? By this time Sammy is looking at my with these huge eyes as if he thinks we're never going to escape and will have to live on the picnic table for the next day and a half until my mom gets home and can chase Zoey away for us. This is about the point where The Weather (who has been laughing maniacally this whole time) decides to have some real fun with me. Remember how I don't like being wet? Well I didn't know it at the time but I was about to have a whole new understanding of the term.
I decide that Sammy and I are getting back into the house THIS VERY MINUTE. I remember that I have Sammy's treats in my raincoat and begin to formulate what I thought was The Most Brilliant Idea Ever in my head. Clearly - it was not. With a dozen puppy treats in one hand and Sammy gathered up in the other arm I throw the little bone shaped cookies as far as I can, wait a split second until Zoey runs after them, hauling ass like it's the Olympics, and then in a huge leap - jump off the picnic table and start running for the door. Well right then The Weather decides how things are going to go down and starts pelting what had to have been golf ball sized drops of liquid at me, soaking my front lawn, and seem to have also managed to alert Zoey that his captives are escaping because instantly the awful creature whips around and starts to chase down Sammy and I.
The problem with this scenario is that my lawn is shaped strangely. It has weird divots and odd random sprinklers that haven't worked since the early nineties. None of this was on my mind as I was running. However, it did cross my mind when my pant leg caught on one of these useless sprinklers and threw both Sammy and I into the small pond that had been forming in the little valley of grass in my front yard as it rained. Great. I'm drenched. Sammy is drenched. Zoey is heading toward us at the speed of light. And The Weather is laughing until his sides hurt. Luckily I was able to slip and slosh my way out of the little pond, and managed to make it to the front door and slam it before Zoey could terrorize us any further. The only good thing about the whole day was the loud thud I heard only moments after closing the door. I hope Zoey has a huge headache for the rest of the day.
*No dogs were harmed in the making of this post. Just my pride.*
Here's where the The Weather first decided to get crafty. Two doors up from my house there is a family that also owns a Shih Tzu (my puppy, Sammy, is far cuter though - just for the record). This little dog is named Zoey. He is possibly the meanest dog in the world. I swear when that dog looks at me I can just hear it making all kinds of condescending remarks about how one shouldn't go hunting for the paper in the morning with hair that looks like she just spent four hours bouncing around in an inflatable castle while rubbing a balloon on her head. To which my response is "Well you have GREEN ribbons in your hair. And I'm pretty sure you're a boy! And green is sooooooo a girl color now." followed by me sticking my tongue out at Zoey who just laughs because he knows I'm scaring all the morning joggers.
The Weather - being as smart as it is - also knows that Sammy is absolutely terrified of Zoey. Sammy is still a fairly small puppy and he gets nervous around any type of animal that isn't either a fish or an earthworm as he thinks the former is entertainment and the latter is lunch. I also may or may not have had to throw a rock at the neighbors' cat because it was chasing him. So of course right when Sammy and I head out the door for our Morning Walk/I Think I'll Run Circles Around Every Tree I Can Find While I Try And Pee On Them At The Same Time gig - here comes Zoey, shooting out if his house like a cannon and booking it straight towards Sammy and I. This is probably the only time where my dog and I have had the exact same thought at the same moment because I swear the second we saw that little black and white hairball running at us we both looked at each other with an "Oh shit." sort of face and started running towards the picnic table that across the street from the house.
In retrospect it would have been far more intelligent to just go back inside the house. But nooo. I didn't get the "Think On Your Feet" gene. Thank you mom - for keeping that and the ability to use electrical appliances without setting off the fire alarm ALL TO YOURSELF. So instead of boarding ourselves up inside my house, Sammy and I are now perched up on top of a wet picnic table trying to stay somewhat dry, while Zoey barks madly from the ground below us. What a lovely position to be in. I'm sure I look real attractive trying to hold on to a puppy that's acting like he just took a bottle of Ritalin while also avoiding getting bit by what seems to be some demon-possessed dog with pogo stick superpowers. The dog is literally trying to jump up onto the picnic table. So of course I'm freaking out - trying out all my grown-up dog commands. "Sit!" "Stay!" "GET AWAY FROM ME YOU EVIL THING!" None of which are helping - when, out of nowhere, I see a shining ray of hope. Zoey's owner has come outside for some reason or another and is now standing in his driveway up the street watching this little nightmare unfold. I start doing this frantic arm waving thing while pointing towards Zoey and yelling "Your dog is trying to EAT my dog!" And just when I think I'm home free this is what happens: Zoey's owner looks at me and - I kid you not - shrugs. And then proceeds to walk back into his house.
What. The. Hell. What kind of owner lets his dog not only run wild but chase other dogs (and the owners of said dogs)? Come on - seriously. How hard is it to call your dog's name and get it to leave me alone? By this time Sammy is looking at my with these huge eyes as if he thinks we're never going to escape and will have to live on the picnic table for the next day and a half until my mom gets home and can chase Zoey away for us. This is about the point where The Weather (who has been laughing maniacally this whole time) decides to have some real fun with me. Remember how I don't like being wet? Well I didn't know it at the time but I was about to have a whole new understanding of the term.
I decide that Sammy and I are getting back into the house THIS VERY MINUTE. I remember that I have Sammy's treats in my raincoat and begin to formulate what I thought was The Most Brilliant Idea Ever in my head. Clearly - it was not. With a dozen puppy treats in one hand and Sammy gathered up in the other arm I throw the little bone shaped cookies as far as I can, wait a split second until Zoey runs after them, hauling ass like it's the Olympics, and then in a huge leap - jump off the picnic table and start running for the door. Well right then The Weather decides how things are going to go down and starts pelting what had to have been golf ball sized drops of liquid at me, soaking my front lawn, and seem to have also managed to alert Zoey that his captives are escaping because instantly the awful creature whips around and starts to chase down Sammy and I.
The problem with this scenario is that my lawn is shaped strangely. It has weird divots and odd random sprinklers that haven't worked since the early nineties. None of this was on my mind as I was running. However, it did cross my mind when my pant leg caught on one of these useless sprinklers and threw both Sammy and I into the small pond that had been forming in the little valley of grass in my front yard as it rained. Great. I'm drenched. Sammy is drenched. Zoey is heading toward us at the speed of light. And The Weather is laughing until his sides hurt. Luckily I was able to slip and slosh my way out of the little pond, and managed to make it to the front door and slam it before Zoey could terrorize us any further. The only good thing about the whole day was the loud thud I heard only moments after closing the door. I hope Zoey has a huge headache for the rest of the day.
*No dogs were harmed in the making of this post. Just my pride.*
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Community College
Ok this was not part of my planned post but when I opened up Blogger I somehow accidentally did something nifty with my mouse (its never on purpose) and this little graphic: 
- the one we Blogger users all know and love as our faithful spelling-fixer-upper - magicked its way down into my post. And I can't just delete it. Look how cute it is! Plus I cant figure out what I did or how I got it down here with me and thus can't replicate the effect and give my little spelling graphic any friends - so instead of being deleted off to Discard-O-Land he's coming along for the ride. I'm sure he feels very special to be the only one of his buddies that got mentioned/placed in a post. Even if I didn't intend it. I have also saved him to my picture folder soooo be sure to be on the lookout for him again. He's too adorable not to come poking back around, looking for more posts to interrupt. I think at some point we'll have to name him. Along with a few other various characters that are trying to weasel their way into my posts.
Anyways! What I really wanted to share will all of you is how much I absolutely cannot stand when I am on the phone and get put on hold/transferred to 8 or 9 various departments and end up talking to a ridiculous amount of people - none of whom seem to know the answer to my question.
I was calling down to one of the community colleges in my state, trying to figure out why I couldn't log into my little See Your School Shit On The Web If We Feel Like Letting You Today thing. Obviously today was not one of those days. I put in my little user name and request a change of password since its been AGES since I had to log in there and - lo and behold - the evil site tells me that my information doesn't match what they have. Well. Last time I checked I knew how to spell my own name. I also happen to know my birth date. (May 14 for those of you that want to send me presents! Like a Kindle! Ohmigod I would looooooooove a Kindle. Apparently you can read blogs and all kinds of fun stuff on them. Not that I expect you guys to send me one since they're like 400 dollars and....this is so not what I'm posting about right now. Damn.) I typed in my little student ID number right too. I checked. Many times! So finally I get the bright idea to call up the little student help center and after a gazillion rings some lady who is clearly not a student, and doesn't care for the breed either, answers in the most nasally voice I have ever heard.
"Yes?"
Yea - no "Student Help Center this is *insert creepy name here*" Just a "yes?" Great way to start off.
"Um for some reason I cant seem to log into your website. I have all my information and I've tried it several times so I know I'm putting it in right. It says it doesn't match what's in your records. Is there any way you can tell me what information you guys have so I can get it changed?
"Well are you putting it all in there right?
.... Uh...did I NOT JUST SAY THAT?! "Yes. I'm doing it right" (*side note: This is where Crayon would say "That's What She Said!" and get this cute smug look on his ridiculously handsome face.)
"Well I guess something don't match what our Data Center has on ya"
Lady. I just said that. Without a Utahan accent that could make birds fly into walls.
"Yes I'm positive that everything I've entered is correct."
"Well I'ma transfer you to the Data Center now."
"Great. Thanks" *terribly 1990's hold music ensues - please god let me avoid hearing "Holiday" by Madonna ever again*
"Data Center" Wow. A greeting. Must be a normal guy.
"Hi I was having trouble logging into the web page and-"
"OhyouneedtheStudentHelpCenterforthatI'lltransferyou!" I can hardly understand what the dude said because he was in such a rush to spit out his words and get me off the phone that his tongue has probably collapsed like a fat cat on a windowsill after spending too much effort chasing the neighbors canary bird. Had the guy even listened to me he would have known that NO - I do not need the Student Help Center or Ms. Utah Nasal back there who is probably sitting at her desk eating pork rinds while laughing about me, the poor girl who will surely never find her way out of this tangled maze of phone tag.
"Yeeeeeesssssss" She draws it out in this annoyed tone of voice. God forbid we have to answer the phone TWICE in an hour.
"Hi - look its me again, the Data Center transferred me back here. I really need to get that information changed so I can log in to the website."
"Oh. Well how come you didn't say so? I haaave a computer."
Wow. Is that what that big square thing sitting on your desk is? Thank you Nancy Drew now I can return to my life with the piece of mind that somewhere in the world there is a person with the deductive abilities to realize that she, like every other office worker on the planet, has a computer available to use at her disposal. This is the part where I seriously considered reaching through the phone and strangling this woman.
"Lovely." (Which is code in my language for "You stupid stupid person.") "So can we change that then?" I give her all my info, wondering if this woman is smart enough to attempt Identity Theft.
*long awkward pause*
"Um hello?" There is no way this lady hung up on me. So help me god I will drive down to Salt Lake and raise hell in the Student Help Center if I must.
"I'm getting it, hold on." Yea - as if she's the one who should be impatient.
"Well it looks like they didn't have your Social Security number so they made one up for ya and that's why you cant log in. So you WEREN'T puttin' all your stuff in right."
"I'm sorry, hold on. They made up a Social Security number for me? They just made one up?"
"That's our policy"
"Your policy is to make up peoples information if you don't have it? Right ok. Well can you give it to me so I can try logging in with that number."
"I'm sorry I cant give out Social Security numbers over the phone." You have got to be kidding me.
"It's not real! It's not a social - its just made up numbers!" I say in disbelief. "Well can I change it and put mine in there instead?"
"No you have to come do that here in person. I don't do that over the phone." (*Another "That's What She Said" for Crayon)
"Well then how am I supposed to get into my account?"
"Here I'll give you the number." Uh - ok? Did we not just establish that we cant do that? I want to say something snotty but instead I remain quiet in case this lady's bipolar memory starts coming back. She gives me my little number and I hang up, thanking her for some unknown reason, to which she promptly slams the phone down on the receiver, as if I'm some sort of huge inconvenience to her. All this for the sake of viewing my transcripts.
I type my little number in, wait patiently for it to load...and....YES! IGOTONTHESTUPIDWEBSITE-NEENERNEENERNEENER!
Only to find out there's a hold on my account which: prevents me from viewing my transcripts.
So now I have to call the Accounts Department, which I promptly do. Only to find out that Monotone Brittany only works from 9-4. It's currently 3:15. Apparently, since I keep getting nothing but her voicemail - leading me to believe she's gone home an hour early, the entire community college is a magnet for incompetence and anti-work syndrome.
I may have to burn it to the ground. If only to improve the gene pool by doing so.
This is why I'm a writer. So that I don't have to deal with the massive amount of insane people that occupy this state on a daily basis.
Alright. Off to go call them again. *Hums "Holiday"*
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Car Wash
I'm not sure what exactly I did to piss off the fates today (maybe it was me bashing the Fortune I got) but something is just not lining up for me.
Today I had to wash the family car. This is where it begins. I have a fairly sketchy history with appliances. I've set my fire alarm off with my toaster (more than once), I've managed to break several CD players, I've gotten very close to making my microwave spontaneously combust, and I've flooded my kitchen with the dishwasher.
God knows how I got it in my head that I'd be safe at the car wash. Now I'm generally kind of a low maintenance sort of girl (read: lazy) so I'm used to the automatic car washes - the kind where you just sit there, do as the lights say, and enjoy watching your automobile get sprayed with rainbow colored goo. However now that I'm living with my mother again (I'm pretending to do that whole "college" thing) I have to go use one of the manual car washes per her request/demand. Yea - these are the kind where you actually have to get out of the car. That right there is trouble for me.
So off I'm sent to the car wash with enough quarters to buy myself a new laptop and enough towels piled up in the back that I cant see out my review mirror. Great fun. I pull into my little hallway/covered parking stall thing, all the while trying to verbally psych myself up for whatever it is I've been drug into.
Now maybe in other states these car washes aren't so bad but I live in Logan and we're about six years behind the times up here so the car washing technology of this particular place is definitely not up to par. The quarter accepting thingy is permanently rusted to the ground, a hand turned mechanism, and completely eroded of all its directions. I have a timer flashing red numbers at me that I don't understand and a long black wand that I'd rather not touch. Needless to say I'm pretty much scared shitless at this point. However since I like to think of myself as fairly capable and of decent intelligence I decide to suck it up and tackle this whole 1990's car washing thing.
I insert my quarters.
I wait patiently for the little numbers to change.
I carefully pick up the black wand.
Still waiting patiently....
Still here.....
Nothing happens. Great. Of all the little empty car slots (and they're all empty since I'm the only one here) I have to go pick the faulty one. In retrospect I wish I had left at this point.
So I put back the black wand, stroll out of the stall, and look around for someone to help me. No one in sight. Go figure. As I turn back to look at my car I realize that my black wand - useless only seconds ago - now has a nice little stream of water coming from it. Aha. I knew I could do it. I jog back over to my car but by the time I get there the water has stopped. What the hell? I pick up the wand, shake it a few times, tap my quarter machine, and very carefully peer into the end of it.
When this kind of thing happens in movies the whole audience is gripping their arm rests, covering their eyes, and asking aloud why is it that people do such ridiculous things in movies? I am the poster child for this kind of bad luck/stupidity/sheer ignorance. Just as I get close enough to really get a good look the stream starts up again. But this time its mixed with some kind of soapy liquid. Fortunately my reflexes kicked in and I kind of did a little spastic jump away from the opening. Not so fortunate was I to think to let go. Instead I held on and got sufficiently drenched with some kind of nasty car cleansing mixture. Immediately following that was another burst of water that left me running for my car door. I didn't make it before the dryers turned on.
When I got home this is what my little sister said to me:
"Why do you look like a rat that someone came after with a blow dryer?"
Never again.
Lizzy
Today I had to wash the family car. This is where it begins. I have a fairly sketchy history with appliances. I've set my fire alarm off with my toaster (more than once), I've managed to break several CD players, I've gotten very close to making my microwave spontaneously combust, and I've flooded my kitchen with the dishwasher.
God knows how I got it in my head that I'd be safe at the car wash. Now I'm generally kind of a low maintenance sort of girl (read: lazy) so I'm used to the automatic car washes - the kind where you just sit there, do as the lights say, and enjoy watching your automobile get sprayed with rainbow colored goo. However now that I'm living with my mother again (I'm pretending to do that whole "college" thing) I have to go use one of the manual car washes per her request/demand. Yea - these are the kind where you actually have to get out of the car. That right there is trouble for me.
So off I'm sent to the car wash with enough quarters to buy myself a new laptop and enough towels piled up in the back that I cant see out my review mirror. Great fun. I pull into my little hallway/covered parking stall thing, all the while trying to verbally psych myself up for whatever it is I've been drug into.
Now maybe in other states these car washes aren't so bad but I live in Logan and we're about six years behind the times up here so the car washing technology of this particular place is definitely not up to par. The quarter accepting thingy is permanently rusted to the ground, a hand turned mechanism, and completely eroded of all its directions. I have a timer flashing red numbers at me that I don't understand and a long black wand that I'd rather not touch. Needless to say I'm pretty much scared shitless at this point. However since I like to think of myself as fairly capable and of decent intelligence I decide to suck it up and tackle this whole 1990's car washing thing.
I insert my quarters.
I wait patiently for the little numbers to change.
I carefully pick up the black wand.
Still waiting patiently....
Still here.....
Nothing happens. Great. Of all the little empty car slots (and they're all empty since I'm the only one here) I have to go pick the faulty one. In retrospect I wish I had left at this point.
So I put back the black wand, stroll out of the stall, and look around for someone to help me. No one in sight. Go figure. As I turn back to look at my car I realize that my black wand - useless only seconds ago - now has a nice little stream of water coming from it. Aha. I knew I could do it. I jog back over to my car but by the time I get there the water has stopped. What the hell? I pick up the wand, shake it a few times, tap my quarter machine, and very carefully peer into the end of it.
When this kind of thing happens in movies the whole audience is gripping their arm rests, covering their eyes, and asking aloud why is it that people do such ridiculous things in movies? I am the poster child for this kind of bad luck/stupidity/sheer ignorance. Just as I get close enough to really get a good look the stream starts up again. But this time its mixed with some kind of soapy liquid. Fortunately my reflexes kicked in and I kind of did a little spastic jump away from the opening. Not so fortunate was I to think to let go. Instead I held on and got sufficiently drenched with some kind of nasty car cleansing mixture. Immediately following that was another burst of water that left me running for my car door. I didn't make it before the dryers turned on.
When I got home this is what my little sister said to me:
"Why do you look like a rat that someone came after with a blow dryer?"
Never again.
Lizzy
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Fickle Fortune
Interestingly enough I seem to have bad luck with Fortunes. Fortune cookies loathe me and as soon as they see me coming they rearrange themselves, pushing their meanest, most unappealing, and literally heartless fortune to the surface of their little colony where (without fail) I choose it. I don't know why I thought a fortune telling website would provide a different outcome.
"You will be imprisoned for contributing your time and skill to a bank robbery."
.....what?
I don't know whether to be flattered or paranoid. What are the odds of me being framed for robbery in Logan, Utah? On a scale of 1-10 that's like a negative 34 right? And even if I were to put any significant amount of time and effort into a robbery - Fate, I'm sure, would see that I made no profit from it whatsoever. While all my accomplices flee to their luxurious leather seated jet with cash in hand I will certainly be the one left sitting on the sidewalk, cuffed to an unflattering lamppost, undoubtedly covered in that exploding purple ink. Thrilling prospect here - really it is. However - the all knowing Fortune Page would beg to differ and has now officially rooted my distrust in StumbleUpon - from whence it came. Not only does my glaring pixelated fortune say I'll be involved in a robbery but also, apparently, that I'm going to do time for it. Lovely. Every girls' secret fantasy - 15 years in prison without time to even spend the profits of your escapade. Why is it that I can't have one of those nice, flowery, sugar-coated fortunes? The best fortune I've ever had I think was one that said "Buy the red car." And since I would never buy a red car (or yellow) as its just asking to get a ticket - which always reduces me to tears - I was rather displeased. So now I'm tempted to go raid my local grocery store for boxes of fortune cookies in search of just one good humored fortune. Just one.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Lizzy
"You will be imprisoned for contributing your time and skill to a bank robbery."
.....what?
I don't know whether to be flattered or paranoid. What are the odds of me being framed for robbery in Logan, Utah? On a scale of 1-10 that's like a negative 34 right? And even if I were to put any significant amount of time and effort into a robbery - Fate, I'm sure, would see that I made no profit from it whatsoever. While all my accomplices flee to their luxurious leather seated jet with cash in hand I will certainly be the one left sitting on the sidewalk, cuffed to an unflattering lamppost, undoubtedly covered in that exploding purple ink. Thrilling prospect here - really it is. However - the all knowing Fortune Page would beg to differ and has now officially rooted my distrust in StumbleUpon - from whence it came. Not only does my glaring pixelated fortune say I'll be involved in a robbery but also, apparently, that I'm going to do time for it. Lovely. Every girls' secret fantasy - 15 years in prison without time to even spend the profits of your escapade. Why is it that I can't have one of those nice, flowery, sugar-coated fortunes? The best fortune I've ever had I think was one that said "Buy the red car." And since I would never buy a red car (or yellow) as its just asking to get a ticket - which always reduces me to tears - I was rather displeased. So now I'm tempted to go raid my local grocery store for boxes of fortune cookies in search of just one good humored fortune. Just one.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Lizzy
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Trial and Error
I have decided to start a garden. Yes that's right. Me - the poster child for a complete lack of homemaking ability - has decided to start a garden.
I can tell you right now that this is a really really really bad idea. It shouldn't be that complicated right? But I was blessed with the remarkable ability to over complicate the simplest of things. The purist in me wants to say -
"Hey its really not a big deal. Get some seeds, some potting soil, some coffee grounds from work, and a book on gardening. What could go wrong?"
But of course that sarcastic little voice that comes out at the worse (and best) of times likes to respond:
"Everything..."
Well pooh on you little voice. I'm starting my garden with or without your approval.
I've already gone and borrowed far too many books on gardening from the library and today I went and picked up some packets of seeds. Here's what I got:
Summer Squash
Zucchini (It's actually labeled as squash but it still looks like zucchini)
Onions
Carrots
Snap Peas
Plus I got two varieties of flowers (Phlox and Snapdragons) with which I plan to line the edges of my soon to be beautiful and prosperous garden. I think I may be going a bit overboard.
I suppose that's a rather ambitions little crop I have planned but I've decided that this year will be the one where my garden works out. The last two tries were not as well planned which I believe (along with their location and the lack of funding) ultimately led to the downfall of each. The first time I was about 10 and I decided that I was going to have an indoor garden. I had three pots, each with about a 6 inch diameter, and I proceeded to use about 4 packets worth of different vegetable seeds in each. Needless to say, my garden quickly found suicide to be its ideal option. A few years later, on another gardening kick, I decided that this time I would try my plans outdoors. I began to work away at the 2 x 4 bit of soil I had in front of my bedroom window (we were living in a meager apartment complex at the time) and after reaching the concrete that was 3 inches below the surface, quickly gave up.
The greatest success I've had so far has been with my houseplants. I have three. Two bamboo and a jade. I've only had them about 6 months or so but they all seem to be doing well. I've made sure they get their recommended amount of water and sunlight and occasionally I sing to them. The bamboo seems to prefer ballads.
I think its safe to say that I've had my fair share of trial and error when it comes to gardening. Hopefully I'll have better luck this year.
I'll let you know!
Lizzy
I can tell you right now that this is a really really really bad idea. It shouldn't be that complicated right? But I was blessed with the remarkable ability to over complicate the simplest of things. The purist in me wants to say -
"Hey its really not a big deal. Get some seeds, some potting soil, some coffee grounds from work, and a book on gardening. What could go wrong?"
But of course that sarcastic little voice that comes out at the worse (and best) of times likes to respond:
"Everything..."
Well pooh on you little voice. I'm starting my garden with or without your approval.
I've already gone and borrowed far too many books on gardening from the library and today I went and picked up some packets of seeds. Here's what I got:
Summer Squash
Zucchini (It's actually labeled as squash but it still looks like zucchini)
Onions
Carrots
Snap Peas
Plus I got two varieties of flowers (Phlox and Snapdragons) with which I plan to line the edges of my soon to be beautiful and prosperous garden. I think I may be going a bit overboard.
I suppose that's a rather ambitions little crop I have planned but I've decided that this year will be the one where my garden works out. The last two tries were not as well planned which I believe (along with their location and the lack of funding) ultimately led to the downfall of each. The first time I was about 10 and I decided that I was going to have an indoor garden. I had three pots, each with about a 6 inch diameter, and I proceeded to use about 4 packets worth of different vegetable seeds in each. Needless to say, my garden quickly found suicide to be its ideal option. A few years later, on another gardening kick, I decided that this time I would try my plans outdoors. I began to work away at the 2 x 4 bit of soil I had in front of my bedroom window (we were living in a meager apartment complex at the time) and after reaching the concrete that was 3 inches below the surface, quickly gave up.
The greatest success I've had so far has been with my houseplants. I have three. Two bamboo and a jade. I've only had them about 6 months or so but they all seem to be doing well. I've made sure they get their recommended amount of water and sunlight and occasionally I sing to them. The bamboo seems to prefer ballads.
I think its safe to say that I've had my fair share of trial and error when it comes to gardening. Hopefully I'll have better luck this year.
I'll let you know!
Lizzy
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