My husband, Rex Webb, is DOMINATING Physical Therapy School. I am so proud of him! He is currently getting high A's in every class, and his first term ends in August. In one class there have been 488 points, and he's only missed 4. WHOA! He got the high score in his whole graduating class on his last exam. Pretty much he ROCKS, and he's going to graduate #1 in his class. I just know it.
I was going to give him a shout-out on facebook, but I'm friends with a bunch of PT people and I don't want to make them feel bad about my husband being so smart and all.
SO...if YOU could please write on his wall or text him to say that he ROCKS, that would be fantastic. I want to keep encouraging him to kick butt. If you won't do it out of your love for me, do it because in three years he's gonna be a doctor and then maybe if he likes you he'll share some of his money. ;-)
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Frightful Flight
I hate flying. I HATE it with a burning fiery passion.
Because I live thousands of miles away from any of my family members, though, I guess I will have to get used to it.
Yesterday I was flying back to Las Vegas from New Hampshire. My flight to Atlanta was pretty uneventful, but my flight from Atlanta to Las Vegas was SCARY!
First of all, we left an hour late. That is never a good start. Then, when we got into the clouds, I saw a thunderstorm up ahead! It was really weird being eye-level with the lightning and watching it go down to the earth. I thought this was highly cool until I saw that the plane was heading straight for the thundercloud! I wanted to talk to the pilot:
"Um, excuse me sir...are you INSANE?! Why are we flying into THAT cloud?! There are plenty of fluffy white clouds to choose! Why don't we pick one of them?! Or fly OVER the storm cloud?! I don't think flying through it is really necessary..."
Apparently he thought it was necessary, though, because he came over the loud speaker and said, "Please buckle your seat belts - we are headed for a bit of turbulence." OF COURSE WE ARE - YOU CHOSE THE SCARY CLOUD! ARE YOU SUICIDAL?!? It was a bumpy and quite disconcerting ride flying through the storm. Lighting flashed all around the windows. I considered what would happen if the plane got struck by lightning, and then I decided that maybe I didn't want to consider that after all.
We miraculously made it through the storm, and then I saw something that I have never seen before while flying - another plane! It was up there in the air next to us, just like another car would drive next to you on the highway. I waved at it, and I wondered if the people could see me. Suddenly the plane changed from flying parallel to us and headed straight towards the side of my plane! Here is my approximate thought process:
"Hi little friend plane! It's so fun to be up here in the sky with you - we could do synchronized flying or something! Wait, are you turning? Why are you heading toward this plane? AHHHHH! It's going to fly into the side of our plane! Dear God, please take care of Rex and Elvis and Elsie since I am about to be killed by a crazed suicide bomber who is using his plane as a torpedo! AHHHH! I hope dying doesn't hurt too badly...oh wait, is he going in front of our plane? He is. Oops. I guess he's not going to kill us after all; he's just switching directions. Dear God, never mind. False alarm. I'm okay."
I thought the excitement would end after the suicide-bomber-turned-regular-pilot episode. I didn't. When we got to Las Vegas, the plane ALMOST landed. Almost. We were so low to the ground that I could distinguish and identify the different casinos (is that sad?). Suddenly the plane pulled up and flew right PAST Las Vegas. It kept flying right past the city and on to California. New thought process:
"Pilot? Sir? That was my stop...um, can I parachute out or something? Because I'm really trying to go home, and you just passed it. Why are we going to California? Are you high? Did you fall asleep? Did you get hit by lightning? Did you have a heart attack? OH MY GOSH WHAT IF THE PILOT IS DEAD AND WE JUST KEEP FLYING AND FLYING?!?! We are flying over mountains now...definitely not in Nevada anymore...WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Oh wait, I think we're turning around. Or possibly crashing. No, I'm pretty sure we're turning around. WHOO HOO! I can see Vegas in the distance!"
He finally flew back to Vegas and actually landed the plane. As we were waiting for our gate, the pilot came over the loudspeaker and said, "Heh heh...sorry about that, guys. It got kinda crazy so I couldn't keep you in the loop. There was a wind issue so we couldn't land, and then air traffic control told us to fly around for a while and then try landing again from the west. So that's what we did."
You know, if it weren't for the free pretzels I would be really disappointed in that flight!
Because I live thousands of miles away from any of my family members, though, I guess I will have to get used to it.
Yesterday I was flying back to Las Vegas from New Hampshire. My flight to Atlanta was pretty uneventful, but my flight from Atlanta to Las Vegas was SCARY!
First of all, we left an hour late. That is never a good start. Then, when we got into the clouds, I saw a thunderstorm up ahead! It was really weird being eye-level with the lightning and watching it go down to the earth. I thought this was highly cool until I saw that the plane was heading straight for the thundercloud! I wanted to talk to the pilot:
"Um, excuse me sir...are you INSANE?! Why are we flying into THAT cloud?! There are plenty of fluffy white clouds to choose! Why don't we pick one of them?! Or fly OVER the storm cloud?! I don't think flying through it is really necessary..."
Apparently he thought it was necessary, though, because he came over the loud speaker and said, "Please buckle your seat belts - we are headed for a bit of turbulence." OF COURSE WE ARE - YOU CHOSE THE SCARY CLOUD! ARE YOU SUICIDAL?!? It was a bumpy and quite disconcerting ride flying through the storm. Lighting flashed all around the windows. I considered what would happen if the plane got struck by lightning, and then I decided that maybe I didn't want to consider that after all.
We miraculously made it through the storm, and then I saw something that I have never seen before while flying - another plane! It was up there in the air next to us, just like another car would drive next to you on the highway. I waved at it, and I wondered if the people could see me. Suddenly the plane changed from flying parallel to us and headed straight towards the side of my plane! Here is my approximate thought process:
"Hi little friend plane! It's so fun to be up here in the sky with you - we could do synchronized flying or something! Wait, are you turning? Why are you heading toward this plane? AHHHHH! It's going to fly into the side of our plane! Dear God, please take care of Rex and Elvis and Elsie since I am about to be killed by a crazed suicide bomber who is using his plane as a torpedo! AHHHH! I hope dying doesn't hurt too badly...oh wait, is he going in front of our plane? He is. Oops. I guess he's not going to kill us after all; he's just switching directions. Dear God, never mind. False alarm. I'm okay."
I thought the excitement would end after the suicide-bomber-turned-regular-pilot episode. I didn't. When we got to Las Vegas, the plane ALMOST landed. Almost. We were so low to the ground that I could distinguish and identify the different casinos (is that sad?). Suddenly the plane pulled up and flew right PAST Las Vegas. It kept flying right past the city and on to California. New thought process:
"Pilot? Sir? That was my stop...um, can I parachute out or something? Because I'm really trying to go home, and you just passed it. Why are we going to California? Are you high? Did you fall asleep? Did you get hit by lightning? Did you have a heart attack? OH MY GOSH WHAT IF THE PILOT IS DEAD AND WE JUST KEEP FLYING AND FLYING?!?! We are flying over mountains now...definitely not in Nevada anymore...WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Oh wait, I think we're turning around. Or possibly crashing. No, I'm pretty sure we're turning around. WHOO HOO! I can see Vegas in the distance!"
He finally flew back to Vegas and actually landed the plane. As we were waiting for our gate, the pilot came over the loudspeaker and said, "Heh heh...sorry about that, guys. It got kinda crazy so I couldn't keep you in the loop. There was a wind issue so we couldn't land, and then air traffic control told us to fly around for a while and then try landing again from the west. So that's what we did."
You know, if it weren't for the free pretzels I would be really disappointed in that flight!
Special Delivery
I walked into the post office with a bag of books. I was visiting my Nana in New Hampshire, and she had taken me to an AWESOME used book shop where they had squillions of great middle-school level books for my class at super cheap prices! Obviously I had to stock up.
When I lugged my full bag of goodies out of the store, I was well aware that I would not be able to fly them all home with me (I only brought a backpack). I asked my Nana to take me to the post office so I could send them to myself. The post office has these awesome "flat rate shipping" boxes, so I knew I could send the entire lot of books for less than $15! Whoo hoo!
I walked into the tiny New Hampshire post office, and I was the only customer. There were two ladies working, and they were preoccupied by something in the back room. I stood patiently by the counter for a while and finally asked if I could get some help.
The blonde looked up happily from whatever they were looking at and said, "Go away! Can't you see we're busy? Ha ha just kidding! LOOK AT THIS!" She rushed a large brown box over to the counter so I could see it. She opened the top (even though I'm pretty sure it's illegal to open someone else's mail) and said, "Look what just got delivered for someone!"
I peeked inside and saw the FLUFFIEST little baby chicks. They were little yellow poofs running around inside the box and chirping happily. I would say there were about a dozen or so.
"Is that even LEGAL?!" I asked. "Can you mail animals?!
"I don't know," giggled the mail lady. "I guess so, because someone just did!"
The chicks attempted to run around on the mail counter, but we kept them in the box. They were so adorable! I'm really not sure who thought it would be a good idea to put them in the mail, but apparently they arrived safely in New Hampshire so that is good. Hopefully they arrived to their new home (a farm?) safely. I'm sure they were a little traumatized from living in a cardboard box, but they acted perfectly happy and cute. It made me want to get some baby chicks, but I'm not sure how well they would do living on our balcony in 100+ degree heat. I guess we'll just stick with our cat and our dog. If you ever want to send anyone chicks, though, know that the US Mail accepts them!
When I lugged my full bag of goodies out of the store, I was well aware that I would not be able to fly them all home with me (I only brought a backpack). I asked my Nana to take me to the post office so I could send them to myself. The post office has these awesome "flat rate shipping" boxes, so I knew I could send the entire lot of books for less than $15! Whoo hoo!
I walked into the tiny New Hampshire post office, and I was the only customer. There were two ladies working, and they were preoccupied by something in the back room. I stood patiently by the counter for a while and finally asked if I could get some help.
The blonde looked up happily from whatever they were looking at and said, "Go away! Can't you see we're busy? Ha ha just kidding! LOOK AT THIS!" She rushed a large brown box over to the counter so I could see it. She opened the top (even though I'm pretty sure it's illegal to open someone else's mail) and said, "Look what just got delivered for someone!"
I peeked inside and saw the FLUFFIEST little baby chicks. They were little yellow poofs running around inside the box and chirping happily. I would say there were about a dozen or so.
"Is that even LEGAL?!" I asked. "Can you mail animals?!
"I don't know," giggled the mail lady. "I guess so, because someone just did!"
The chicks attempted to run around on the mail counter, but we kept them in the box. They were so adorable! I'm really not sure who thought it would be a good idea to put them in the mail, but apparently they arrived safely in New Hampshire so that is good. Hopefully they arrived to their new home (a farm?) safely. I'm sure they were a little traumatized from living in a cardboard box, but they acted perfectly happy and cute. It made me want to get some baby chicks, but I'm not sure how well they would do living on our balcony in 100+ degree heat. I guess we'll just stick with our cat and our dog. If you ever want to send anyone chicks, though, know that the US Mail accepts them!
Friday, July 22, 2011
How to Read a Magazine With Your Puppy
Step 1: Sit on the couch
The puppy will inevitably start bounding toward you. After a few unsuccessful attempts to jump up onto the couch (where he will probably bounce off the side of the couch), he will either finally make it or you will have pity on the poor guy and help him up.
Step 2: Open your magazine
The puppy will see that display as you saying "Here is a new toy for you!" and he will start chewing on it.
Step 3: Say, "NO, PUPPY!"
He will ignore you.
Step 4: Put him on the ground so you can read your magazine in peace.
He will inevitably go back to Step 1, and you will repeat steps 1 through 4 until you decide to move on to Step 5.
Step 5: Give up, and in exasperation exclaim, "Fine! We'll share!" Then rip out the page you were just reading and hand it to the puppy.
The puppy will happily munch on the page for juuuuuuust about long enough for you to finish the next page, then he will start jumping on you again.
Step 6: Give the puppy the next page.
Step 7: Repeat Steps 5 and 6 until your magazine is strewn about the living room. I hope you didn't want to re-read any of those articles...
The puppy will inevitably start bounding toward you. After a few unsuccessful attempts to jump up onto the couch (where he will probably bounce off the side of the couch), he will either finally make it or you will have pity on the poor guy and help him up.
Step 2: Open your magazine
The puppy will see that display as you saying "Here is a new toy for you!" and he will start chewing on it.
Step 3: Say, "NO, PUPPY!"
He will ignore you.
Step 4: Put him on the ground so you can read your magazine in peace.
He will inevitably go back to Step 1, and you will repeat steps 1 through 4 until you decide to move on to Step 5.
Step 5: Give up, and in exasperation exclaim, "Fine! We'll share!" Then rip out the page you were just reading and hand it to the puppy.
The puppy will happily munch on the page for juuuuuuust about long enough for you to finish the next page, then he will start jumping on you again.
Step 6: Give the puppy the next page.
Step 7: Repeat Steps 5 and 6 until your magazine is strewn about the living room. I hope you didn't want to re-read any of those articles...
The Teacher Who Cried "Senator"
Sometimes I spice things up for the sake of education. I admit it. If you've read my previous posts, you know that I bought a horned melon from Meijer and pretended that it was a Martian artifact for my science fiction unit. You would also know that we had a guest speaker, "Adventure Man Dan" come in, and that was really just my dad. The thing is, though, that I ALWAYS told the students the truth by the end of the lesson. ALWAYS. But I guess I might have gone a little too far. In one of our social studies units, I had students write to senators and representatives to give their opinion on a political issue. This is the e-mail I got from one of my students today:
Mrs. Webb,
I was just wondering if that United States Senate was real, i mean those letters we got from people like Carl Levin.....i mean the random fruit wasn't real, adventure man dan was just ur dad. I wanna frame the paper but i wanna know if it's real, but if its not im framing it anyway so people think its real.
Just wondering,
Jill
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm sorry, Jill, for making you doubt the United States Senate. I'm honored that you think I'm a dedicated enough teacher to write individual letters to all of my 100 students and then mail them in such a way that it looks as if they came from Washington D.C. I don't even know how to do that if I wanted to.
I told her to go ahead and frame the response that she got from Carl Levin, since I promise I didn't write it. I think it's funny that she's framing a letter from a senator, but hey - I probably would have done the same thing in sixth grade.
Note to self: STOP PLAYING TRICKS ON STUDENTS.
Mrs. Webb,
I was just wondering if that United States Senate was real, i mean those letters we got from people like Carl Levin.....i mean the random fruit wasn't real, adventure man dan was just ur dad. I wanna frame the paper but i wanna know if it's real, but if its not im framing it anyway so people think its real.
Just wondering,
Jill
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm sorry, Jill, for making you doubt the United States Senate. I'm honored that you think I'm a dedicated enough teacher to write individual letters to all of my 100 students and then mail them in such a way that it looks as if they came from Washington D.C. I don't even know how to do that if I wanted to.
I told her to go ahead and frame the response that she got from Carl Levin, since I promise I didn't write it. I think it's funny that she's framing a letter from a senator, but hey - I probably would have done the same thing in sixth grade.
Note to self: STOP PLAYING TRICKS ON STUDENTS.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Debit Card
Rex and I went to the bank to open up a new checking account. We were banking with Flagstar in Michigan, but apparently Flagstar does not exist west of the Mississippi. Therefore we had to open a NEW account, and we chose to open it with Bank of America.
We went to the bank at 4:30 (the bank closes at 6). We just wanted to open a checking account, which should have been very simple since Rex already has a savings account at Bank of America from when he was in high school. We were told that opening a checking account to go with an existing savings account should take, "Oh, about five minutes."
FALSE. We left the bank at 6:38. It took TWO HOURS to open that darn checking account!
I think the real problem was the banking guy. I don't remember his name, so we'll just call him Ricardo. Ricardo got us out of the waiting room and greeted us with a friendly "Hello! My name is Ricardo! I will be helping you bank today! This is my manager Kiki, and she will be sitting in with us if that's okay." We said that it was okay - I mean, who's going to say, "AHHHHH!!! NO! I HATE MANAGERS!!" ???
So we went into the little banking room, and Kiki sat in a corner taking notes on everything Ricardo did. I think she was making him nervous, and I didn't blame him. She was making ME nervous! I was afraid I was going to answer some question wrong and bet thrown out of the bank.
He certainly had a lot of questions. He had to do an "intake survey" to determine our banking needs. I felt like saying, "Ricardo, buddy, our 'banking need' is a checking account. We already told you that. We just want a checking account." He was asking us weird stuff, though, such as "What are your savings goals?" (Ummm...save as much money as possible?) or "How often do you use an ATM?" Ricardo, what difference does that make??
Once he finished our intake survey, he talked us through a booklet containing ALL of the savings and checking accounts we could open along with all of the credit cards we could start. Kiki sat taking copious notes on his presentation. When he was finished, we (surprise!) still wanted to open the least complicated checking account. But THANK YOU, Ricardo, for taking an hour to tell us what we already know. He said, "But if you get the CREDIT CARD, you could go buy a new TV!" We already HAVE a TV, Ricardo, and we don't even watch it! But I guess he was showing off for Kiki.
Kiki must have been satisfied with her notes, because she finally left. Ricardo visibly relaxed, and I thought, "Finally! We're going to get something done." NOT SO FAST, CHRISTINE'S MIND! Ricardo was SO relaxed that he forgot about banking altogether. "So...have you guys eaten at that new Chinese restaurant?" (we haven't). "Oh, it's so cool! The chef guy looks like he's wearing pajamas but really he's just wearing traditional Chinese clothes! It's NUTS!" Really, Ricardo? That's fascinating. He then went on to tell us about a new breakfast location, a new burger joint, and a fancy Mexican restaurant. He chuckled nervously, "Can you guys tell that I am hungry?" I felt like telling Ricardo that if he was so hungry, maybe he could help us open our checking account so we could get out of there. Apparently not. He grabbed a pile of restaurant reviews out of his cabinet and said, "I was just reading these before you guys got here! They're so exciting!" You know what else is exciting, Ricardo? A checking account. I was starting to understand why Kiki was reviewing him.
When we finally redirected Ricardo back to the task at hand, he pushed a catalog toward us and told us to pick out a design for the top of our new debit card. There were PAGES and PAGES of designs - how were we supposed to just pick one?! I tried telling Rex that I would accept any of the puppy/kitten designs, but he said no way. I offered to choose one of the tropical island ones, and he said, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!?" I'm not sure why a tropical island was such an INSANE choice, but apparently it was. Whatever happened to generic, normal banky-looking debit cards? Was this some sort of marriage test to see if we could agree on a design? Trying to avoid any friction in front of our hungry friend Ricardo, I said to Rex, "Okay. You pick five, and I'll choose one of those five." I should have known better. Rex chose a hunted duck, a scary wolf, Detroit Tigers, Chicago Cubs, and a generic baseball design. I complained, and he decided to include a mountain design in the options. Mountains are cool! I said we could agree on that one.
Relieved to have made a decision, I was about to announce our choice to Ricardo when I noticed that on one of the pages, whatever design you chose would donate a percentage of whatever you spend to a certain charity. I immediately told Rex that we had to make a new choice because, "If you have a chance to support a charity for free and then you don't, you are pretty much a HORRIBLE PERSON." He started laughing, but I wasn't really joking. Noticing that his scary wolf was on that page (donating money to some wildlife defense fund), I said that we could choose that one. Rex responded with, "I thought you said that the wolf was scary...?"
I think Ricardo was getting annoyed with how long we were taking. GO READ MORE RESTAURANT REVIEWS, RICARDO! THIS IS A BIG DECISION!
I responded to Rex with, "Yes, I think that wolf is scary. The man who took that picture probably didn't live to see it become a debit card. BUT, maybe this is a good thing. See, when I'm shopping, I will have to think: 'How much do I want these shoes? Enough to look at the WOLF?!?! AHHHHH! NO!!!' and then I won't spend money! So a wolf card is really like a savings plan!" Rex and Ricardo both laughed. Once again, I wasn't entirely joking.
Apparently my "savings plan" was a good idea, though, because after two painful hours in the bank, I now have a shiny new wolf card to guard my money and make sure I don't spend too much. I guess we won't be able to go eat at the fancy restaurants Ricardo was telling us about since I refuse to look at the wolf, but oh well. Ramen noodles have always served me just fine.
We went to the bank at 4:30 (the bank closes at 6). We just wanted to open a checking account, which should have been very simple since Rex already has a savings account at Bank of America from when he was in high school. We were told that opening a checking account to go with an existing savings account should take, "Oh, about five minutes."
FALSE. We left the bank at 6:38. It took TWO HOURS to open that darn checking account!
I think the real problem was the banking guy. I don't remember his name, so we'll just call him Ricardo. Ricardo got us out of the waiting room and greeted us with a friendly "Hello! My name is Ricardo! I will be helping you bank today! This is my manager Kiki, and she will be sitting in with us if that's okay." We said that it was okay - I mean, who's going to say, "AHHHHH!!! NO! I HATE MANAGERS!!" ???
So we went into the little banking room, and Kiki sat in a corner taking notes on everything Ricardo did. I think she was making him nervous, and I didn't blame him. She was making ME nervous! I was afraid I was going to answer some question wrong and bet thrown out of the bank.
He certainly had a lot of questions. He had to do an "intake survey" to determine our banking needs. I felt like saying, "Ricardo, buddy, our 'banking need' is a checking account. We already told you that. We just want a checking account." He was asking us weird stuff, though, such as "What are your savings goals?" (Ummm...save as much money as possible?) or "How often do you use an ATM?" Ricardo, what difference does that make??
Once he finished our intake survey, he talked us through a booklet containing ALL of the savings and checking accounts we could open along with all of the credit cards we could start. Kiki sat taking copious notes on his presentation. When he was finished, we (surprise!) still wanted to open the least complicated checking account. But THANK YOU, Ricardo, for taking an hour to tell us what we already know. He said, "But if you get the CREDIT CARD, you could go buy a new TV!" We already HAVE a TV, Ricardo, and we don't even watch it! But I guess he was showing off for Kiki.
Kiki must have been satisfied with her notes, because she finally left. Ricardo visibly relaxed, and I thought, "Finally! We're going to get something done." NOT SO FAST, CHRISTINE'S MIND! Ricardo was SO relaxed that he forgot about banking altogether. "So...have you guys eaten at that new Chinese restaurant?" (we haven't). "Oh, it's so cool! The chef guy looks like he's wearing pajamas but really he's just wearing traditional Chinese clothes! It's NUTS!" Really, Ricardo? That's fascinating. He then went on to tell us about a new breakfast location, a new burger joint, and a fancy Mexican restaurant. He chuckled nervously, "Can you guys tell that I am hungry?" I felt like telling Ricardo that if he was so hungry, maybe he could help us open our checking account so we could get out of there. Apparently not. He grabbed a pile of restaurant reviews out of his cabinet and said, "I was just reading these before you guys got here! They're so exciting!" You know what else is exciting, Ricardo? A checking account. I was starting to understand why Kiki was reviewing him.
When we finally redirected Ricardo back to the task at hand, he pushed a catalog toward us and told us to pick out a design for the top of our new debit card. There were PAGES and PAGES of designs - how were we supposed to just pick one?! I tried telling Rex that I would accept any of the puppy/kitten designs, but he said no way. I offered to choose one of the tropical island ones, and he said, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!?" I'm not sure why a tropical island was such an INSANE choice, but apparently it was. Whatever happened to generic, normal banky-looking debit cards? Was this some sort of marriage test to see if we could agree on a design? Trying to avoid any friction in front of our hungry friend Ricardo, I said to Rex, "Okay. You pick five, and I'll choose one of those five." I should have known better. Rex chose a hunted duck, a scary wolf, Detroit Tigers, Chicago Cubs, and a generic baseball design. I complained, and he decided to include a mountain design in the options. Mountains are cool! I said we could agree on that one.
Relieved to have made a decision, I was about to announce our choice to Ricardo when I noticed that on one of the pages, whatever design you chose would donate a percentage of whatever you spend to a certain charity. I immediately told Rex that we had to make a new choice because, "If you have a chance to support a charity for free and then you don't, you are pretty much a HORRIBLE PERSON." He started laughing, but I wasn't really joking. Noticing that his scary wolf was on that page (donating money to some wildlife defense fund), I said that we could choose that one. Rex responded with, "I thought you said that the wolf was scary...?"
I think Ricardo was getting annoyed with how long we were taking. GO READ MORE RESTAURANT REVIEWS, RICARDO! THIS IS A BIG DECISION!
I responded to Rex with, "Yes, I think that wolf is scary. The man who took that picture probably didn't live to see it become a debit card. BUT, maybe this is a good thing. See, when I'm shopping, I will have to think: 'How much do I want these shoes? Enough to look at the WOLF?!?! AHHHHH! NO!!!' and then I won't spend money! So a wolf card is really like a savings plan!" Rex and Ricardo both laughed. Once again, I wasn't entirely joking.
Apparently my "savings plan" was a good idea, though, because after two painful hours in the bank, I now have a shiny new wolf card to guard my money and make sure I don't spend too much. I guess we won't be able to go eat at the fancy restaurants Ricardo was telling us about since I refuse to look at the wolf, but oh well. Ramen noodles have always served me just fine.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
The Teacher Store
Today I experienced something WONDERFUL and AMAZING and BREATHTAKING - the Las Vegas teacher store.
I have only ever been to Kalamazoo's "Teacher Center," so I really haven't been exposed to the WONDERS of a bigger city's teacher supply store. We were driving by on our way to the bank, and I begged Rex to let us stop and check it out for a minute. JUST ONE MINUTE, PLEEEEEEEEASE??? (We didn't make it to the bank before it closed. Oops.).
When we walked in the door I literally gasped - what a wonderland of teacher goodness! It was like my wildest dreams! Everything I could possibly need for my new job - all in ONE STORE! I inhaled the scent of fresh sharpened pencils and took in the views of glorious "Clearance" signs posted all around the store.
My reverie of delight was broken by Rex commenting next to me, "I think I am going to puke." WHAT?! I turned in shocked indignation. "What is your PROBLEM?! This store is FABULOUS!" He replied with, "Fine. We'll check it out. But you're taking me to Bass Pro Shops later." Deal.
I started walking around the store as if I was walking in a dream. A really, really good teacher dream. The shiny new books, timers shaped like apples, sparkly bulletin board borders, neon pointers, and even SMARTBOARDS were all so lovely I felt like tearing up. It was all so....beautiful. Walking around in my dream-like state, I didn't even notice Rex was missing until he came up behind me and said, "WHAT are we listening to?!" I tore my attention away from the glorious sights and turned my ear to the radio. With some careful analysis, we concluded that we were listening to "Rubber Ducky, You're the One" in Spanish. How he could still hate this store, I have no idea. He said, "Okay, this place brings back terrible memories of 'back to school' sales in the middle of July where I would get really mad at stores for trying to prematurely end my summer. We've got to get out of here." I whirled on him and, admittedly a bit forcefully, exclaimed, "Are you KIDDING?! We've only been here for, like, three minutes! This place is AWESOME!" Some other women (teachers?) in the aisle started laughing at me. Whoops. Luckily, Rex laughed too and went to go see if he could find anything worthwhile in this store of his nightmares.
After lovingly stroking a beautiful bulletin board set on literary genres (I don't have any money to spend on supplies - YET), I regretted leaving it behind and turned to see a very jubilant Rex. He held up his new prize and announced, "Check it out! An ANT FARM!! And if you send in the attached coupon, they send you FREE ANTS! And it's only $14.99!" I almost wanted to get it for him just so that he wouldn't hate the store so much, but then I re-thought my strategy and decided that if I DON'T buy the ant farm but then decide later that we should get it, then we will have to go to that store AGAIN! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!!
So Rex and I danced joyfully down the next aisle to the theme from "Elmo's World" on Sesame Street (this time the song was in English). I was truly blissful. "Rex, do you SEE all of these opportunities?! There's stuff here I never even imagined!" Rex sighed. "What I see here is us becoming very, very poor."
Crap, he's probably right. Maybe I should restrain myself. If I ever walk into that store with money I think I would be in BIG trouble. But it was wonderful. I think I will definitely have to go back. I mean, I have to be a good wife, right? If my husband wants an ant farm...going back is really the only answer. It's all about him, really.
I have only ever been to Kalamazoo's "Teacher Center," so I really haven't been exposed to the WONDERS of a bigger city's teacher supply store. We were driving by on our way to the bank, and I begged Rex to let us stop and check it out for a minute. JUST ONE MINUTE, PLEEEEEEEEASE??? (We didn't make it to the bank before it closed. Oops.).
When we walked in the door I literally gasped - what a wonderland of teacher goodness! It was like my wildest dreams! Everything I could possibly need for my new job - all in ONE STORE! I inhaled the scent of fresh sharpened pencils and took in the views of glorious "Clearance" signs posted all around the store.
My reverie of delight was broken by Rex commenting next to me, "I think I am going to puke." WHAT?! I turned in shocked indignation. "What is your PROBLEM?! This store is FABULOUS!" He replied with, "Fine. We'll check it out. But you're taking me to Bass Pro Shops later." Deal.
I started walking around the store as if I was walking in a dream. A really, really good teacher dream. The shiny new books, timers shaped like apples, sparkly bulletin board borders, neon pointers, and even SMARTBOARDS were all so lovely I felt like tearing up. It was all so....beautiful. Walking around in my dream-like state, I didn't even notice Rex was missing until he came up behind me and said, "WHAT are we listening to?!" I tore my attention away from the glorious sights and turned my ear to the radio. With some careful analysis, we concluded that we were listening to "Rubber Ducky, You're the One" in Spanish. How he could still hate this store, I have no idea. He said, "Okay, this place brings back terrible memories of 'back to school' sales in the middle of July where I would get really mad at stores for trying to prematurely end my summer. We've got to get out of here." I whirled on him and, admittedly a bit forcefully, exclaimed, "Are you KIDDING?! We've only been here for, like, three minutes! This place is AWESOME!" Some other women (teachers?) in the aisle started laughing at me. Whoops. Luckily, Rex laughed too and went to go see if he could find anything worthwhile in this store of his nightmares.
After lovingly stroking a beautiful bulletin board set on literary genres (I don't have any money to spend on supplies - YET), I regretted leaving it behind and turned to see a very jubilant Rex. He held up his new prize and announced, "Check it out! An ANT FARM!! And if you send in the attached coupon, they send you FREE ANTS! And it's only $14.99!" I almost wanted to get it for him just so that he wouldn't hate the store so much, but then I re-thought my strategy and decided that if I DON'T buy the ant farm but then decide later that we should get it, then we will have to go to that store AGAIN! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!!
So Rex and I danced joyfully down the next aisle to the theme from "Elmo's World" on Sesame Street (this time the song was in English). I was truly blissful. "Rex, do you SEE all of these opportunities?! There's stuff here I never even imagined!" Rex sighed. "What I see here is us becoming very, very poor."
Crap, he's probably right. Maybe I should restrain myself. If I ever walk into that store with money I think I would be in BIG trouble. But it was wonderful. I think I will definitely have to go back. I mean, I have to be a good wife, right? If my husband wants an ant farm...going back is really the only answer. It's all about him, really.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Webbs + Boredom = Trouble
It is 1:10 AM, and for the LIFE of me I cannot sleep. Don't ask me why - if I knew, then I would probably be sleeping. If Rex and I were BOTH on summer break, this would be the perfect opportunity to wake him up and say: HEY! It's the perfect time to go to IHOP! And we would probably go. But since he studied until midnight and has to leave for school by 7:30, I figure I should not wake him up. Therefore I am turning to you for company.
Today was a mostly boring day - not much to write about. But hey, you're bored too, right? That's why you're reading this! So allow me to attempt some form of entertainment in my writing.
Today was boring because I spent the majority of it in the car shop. Our Suburban's brakes were acting funny, so we took the car in and found out we needed the whole front brakes replaced. GAH!!! So after we doled out practically a month's rent to fix the car, (grrrrr....) we were left with boredom time to hang out in the auto repair shop. A mature, normal person would have brought a book and sat quietly somewhere reading until the car was fixed. Too bad Rex and I are not that mature or normal.
We started out by walking over to a display of tires. "Okay," I dictated to Rex. "This is what we're going to do. You have to pick a tire that is the princess of all of the tires, and you have to pick one that's the bad guy of all the tires." We closely analyzed ALL of the tire choices available, then we revealed our choices to each other. We picked different "princess" tires, but we chose the same "bad guy" one - a huge truck tire that was covered in scary looking rubber spikey things. That was a really clear choice for "bad guy."
Bored with personifying tires, we headed to the air freshener section. "New game!" I commanded. "You have to pick your favorite air freshener BEFORE you get a headache from standing in this aisle, and if you get a headache then you lose." The game was ON. We sniffed all of the air fresheners, and I declared my choice to be "Fresh Linen" while Rex chose "Mountain Pine." I did not find either of those choices very exciting.
Trying to find something else interesting, we looked at the signs above each aisle that says what the aisle contains. I was confused by "Aisle 7: Creepers." I asked Rex was a "creeper" is, and he said, "I don't know, but the first person to find out WINS!" So we raced to aisle 7 to figure out what a creeper is. In case you ever need to know, it's one of these:
I was hoping for something a little more "creepy," but alas. So after we discovered the creepers, we still had time to kill. We played the game "What steering wheel cover do you want?" (Rex chose a camouflage one, I chose memory foam. MEMORY FOAM STEERING WHEEL COVER!!). We played other random games like that until finally Rex said, "Christne, we should probably just go wait in the waiting area. I think we've done everything in this store." I complained that there was nothing fun to do in the waiting area. Rex investigated to see if I was right, and he exclaimed excitedly, "Look, Christine, they have one of THOSE!" I don't even know how to explain this object to you, so here's a picture:
I told Rex that I absolutely REFUSED to play with that thing. It's for babies. Plus, I had a way better idea: hide and seek in the auto parts store!! So I decided to hide first. I walked to a huge display of tires and realized that a really good hiding spot would be to actually hide INSIDE the row of tires (I would totally fit), but I figured it might be hard to explain what I was doing if a worker walked by. Plus, hiding in a row of tires strikes me as really immature (but somehow playing hide and seek in an auto parts store doesn't. Hmmm...) Since I didn't utilize my AWESOME spot, Rex quickly found me because I was wearing a bright pink shirt. Blast.
Rex said that our car was up on the thingy-do that they put cars on, and he wanted to watch them fix the brakes. I said fine and went to go see if the waiting room had any magazines. The best one I could find was this one, so I sat down to read it:
I was reading a very interesting article on whether or not wolves should be considered endangered when Rex came into the waiting area to check on me. He immediately grabbed my magazine and half shouted, "WHAT are you READING?!" The handful of men in the waiting area started staring at us. "Ummm...a magazine?" I offered. I thought Rex was going to be mad or something, but then he just started laughing and said, "I LOVE this magazine! I can't believe you chose that one! I LOVE YOU! I am taking a picture of this on my cell phone." The men in the waiting room looked at Rex and I as if we were aliens. Rex was kind of acting like one. So he took a picture of me READING A MAGAZINE on his cell phone. That has to cross some sort of "boredom" line.
Shortly after that, I got a call on my cell phone from a lady "doing a survey about home mortgages - do you have a few minutes?" I said sure (I mean, I really had nothing better to do), and took a twenty minute phone survey on mortgages, something I know nothing about. Rex was watching the car, and I just walked around him in circles while on my phone talking to this random lady.
The auto shop finished our car 1 and a half hours earlier than expected! HOORAY! And they did a great job! So I think I discovered a secret of life today: if you're annoying enough at an auto parts shop, they'll get you out of there as quickly as possible.
I guess today wasn't so boring after all!
But I REALLY need to go to sleep.
Today was a mostly boring day - not much to write about. But hey, you're bored too, right? That's why you're reading this! So allow me to attempt some form of entertainment in my writing.
Today was boring because I spent the majority of it in the car shop. Our Suburban's brakes were acting funny, so we took the car in and found out we needed the whole front brakes replaced. GAH!!! So after we doled out practically a month's rent to fix the car, (grrrrr....) we were left with boredom time to hang out in the auto repair shop. A mature, normal person would have brought a book and sat quietly somewhere reading until the car was fixed. Too bad Rex and I are not that mature or normal.
We started out by walking over to a display of tires. "Okay," I dictated to Rex. "This is what we're going to do. You have to pick a tire that is the princess of all of the tires, and you have to pick one that's the bad guy of all the tires." We closely analyzed ALL of the tire choices available, then we revealed our choices to each other. We picked different "princess" tires, but we chose the same "bad guy" one - a huge truck tire that was covered in scary looking rubber spikey things. That was a really clear choice for "bad guy."
Bored with personifying tires, we headed to the air freshener section. "New game!" I commanded. "You have to pick your favorite air freshener BEFORE you get a headache from standing in this aisle, and if you get a headache then you lose." The game was ON. We sniffed all of the air fresheners, and I declared my choice to be "Fresh Linen" while Rex chose "Mountain Pine." I did not find either of those choices very exciting.
Trying to find something else interesting, we looked at the signs above each aisle that says what the aisle contains. I was confused by "Aisle 7: Creepers." I asked Rex was a "creeper" is, and he said, "I don't know, but the first person to find out WINS!" So we raced to aisle 7 to figure out what a creeper is. In case you ever need to know, it's one of these:
I was hoping for something a little more "creepy," but alas. So after we discovered the creepers, we still had time to kill. We played the game "What steering wheel cover do you want?" (Rex chose a camouflage one, I chose memory foam. MEMORY FOAM STEERING WHEEL COVER!!). We played other random games like that until finally Rex said, "Christne, we should probably just go wait in the waiting area. I think we've done everything in this store." I complained that there was nothing fun to do in the waiting area. Rex investigated to see if I was right, and he exclaimed excitedly, "Look, Christine, they have one of THOSE!" I don't even know how to explain this object to you, so here's a picture:
I told Rex that I absolutely REFUSED to play with that thing. It's for babies. Plus, I had a way better idea: hide and seek in the auto parts store!! So I decided to hide first. I walked to a huge display of tires and realized that a really good hiding spot would be to actually hide INSIDE the row of tires (I would totally fit), but I figured it might be hard to explain what I was doing if a worker walked by. Plus, hiding in a row of tires strikes me as really immature (but somehow playing hide and seek in an auto parts store doesn't. Hmmm...) Since I didn't utilize my AWESOME spot, Rex quickly found me because I was wearing a bright pink shirt. Blast.
Rex said that our car was up on the thingy-do that they put cars on, and he wanted to watch them fix the brakes. I said fine and went to go see if the waiting room had any magazines. The best one I could find was this one, so I sat down to read it:
I was reading a very interesting article on whether or not wolves should be considered endangered when Rex came into the waiting area to check on me. He immediately grabbed my magazine and half shouted, "WHAT are you READING?!" The handful of men in the waiting area started staring at us. "Ummm...a magazine?" I offered. I thought Rex was going to be mad or something, but then he just started laughing and said, "I LOVE this magazine! I can't believe you chose that one! I LOVE YOU! I am taking a picture of this on my cell phone." The men in the waiting room looked at Rex and I as if we were aliens. Rex was kind of acting like one. So he took a picture of me READING A MAGAZINE on his cell phone. That has to cross some sort of "boredom" line.
Shortly after that, I got a call on my cell phone from a lady "doing a survey about home mortgages - do you have a few minutes?" I said sure (I mean, I really had nothing better to do), and took a twenty minute phone survey on mortgages, something I know nothing about. Rex was watching the car, and I just walked around him in circles while on my phone talking to this random lady.
The auto shop finished our car 1 and a half hours earlier than expected! HOORAY! And they did a great job! So I think I discovered a secret of life today: if you're annoying enough at an auto parts shop, they'll get you out of there as quickly as possible.
I guess today wasn't so boring after all!
But I REALLY need to go to sleep.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
My Hogwarts Hair Experience
If you are not a Harry Potter fan and not interested in hair, then I am sorry to say that you will probably find this post very boring. If you are a Harry Potter fan and are moderately interested in hair, though, then you are probably about to envy me. So brace yourself for that.
It all started because I wanted a haircut. A plain ol' haircut. Not even a CUT, really, but more of a trim just to get the split ends off so I can continue growing my hair out. My mom is currently in town visiting, and we decided to go get haircuts together as a "girls day." The Paul Mitchell Hair School is in Las Vegas (for those of you who don't know hair, Paul Mitchell is really reputable). I was expecting the hair school to be similar to Douglas J in Lansing, where students perform the services under the supervision of their instructors. It was kind of like that...
Before I get to the school itself, let's start with the part where I made reservations. My mom decided to get some color done with her haircut, so since I knew that would take a while I decided to get another hair service too. I have never had any dye put in my hair before, but I have been wanting to ever since I was sixteen when my friend Carly said, "Christine, WHAT is your hair color?! It's like, not brown, but not blonde. It's mush color. So either highlight it blonde or dye it brown, but for goodness sakes tell your hair to make up it's mind!" Harsh, right? Well, I decided to finally stop letting that comment get to me - my hair was going to make up it's mind!! Now the question was: brown or blonde? Highlights were cheaper. I decided to go blonde. Reservations were made, and my fate was sealed.
Now let me preface this next section by saying that I racked my brain to come up with good reasons to stay in a hair salon for five and a half hours, and I have only come up with three reasons:
1. You work at a hair salon.
2. You mistakenly offered to take your wife and mother-in-law to the hair salon and got stuck there (Sorry, Rex).
3. You are running from the law and that's the last place they would look for you.
Since none of those apply to me, there is NO good reason why I should have been in the hair salon for five and a half hours. But I WAS. Haircut+Highlights=Five and a half hours. I'm still not sure why.
I should have known something was amiss the second we walked through the doors. There were streamers everywhere, and it looked as if I had just walked into a giant party instead of a serious hair salon. I asked my hairstylist about it when I got to her chair, and she rolled her eyes at the stupidity of it all and said, "I guess it's Harry Potter day or something." I looked at the streamers again and noticed that there were different colors in different parts of the salon. I was in the "red and gold" section. Gryffindor - score! I let my eyes wander to the other stylists (I hadn't been able to see them from the waiting room), and I was shocked to see that most of them were dressed in Harry Potter clothes! Most of them were "sexy" Harry Potter characters, so it looked as if I had just walked onto the set of "Harry Potter - The Porno." But oh well. There was a "sexy Slytherin" wearing a green plaid skirt so short that you could practically see her butt, a low cut top and a green tie that strained unsuccessfully to hide her cleavage. I noticed her first (really, you would have too), but most of the other stylists looked like they were attending "Hogwarts - The Hair School" as well. There was even a dead ringer for a VERY gay Draco Malfoy. Did he bleach his hair just for Harry Potter day, or is it always that white? I will never know. My stylist was one of the only ones not dressed up (so she was probably cursed with slowness by her peers). I told her what I wanted, and she said, "Great. Let me go get my instructor." Her instructor came up, in costume, and we'll call her "Professor McGonagall" (since I was in Gryffindor). So McGonagall started toying with my hair, and a magic wand hung around her wrist started whipping me in the face. "Oops!" she said. "Sorry about that! I guess I should take my wand off." She set the wand on the table and finished my consultation. Then she asked if she could bring me some magazines and a "water cocktail." I said sure. For those of you who are wondering (because I was), a "water cocktail" is water with lemons and cucumbers floating in it. It was actually really delicious, but maybe that's just because I was being served a water cocktail by Professor McGonagall and that felt kind of cool.
So then the Potter-Hater started doing my hair. She stopped about two seconds in and said, "AH! You have no color story! Why don't you have a color story?!" I stared back blankly. She explained: "When was the last time your hair was dyed? Your hair should show bands of all the times it's been colored, but I can't find any in your hair." I told her my hair had never been dyed before. She didn't believe me and went to go get McGonagall. McGonagall came back, analyzed my hair, and said, "Yeah, it actually does look like virgin hair to me." My stylist got all excited. "Virgin hair?! WOW! That's crazy! It's all....blank! This is going to be great!" I shifted nervously. My hair was virgin? Should I be letting this woman color it? I didn't realize I had any virginity at stake here - shouldn't I wait for someone special or the "right time" or at least protect my hair somehow? I was about to be HAIR RAPED!! AAAAAAH!!! But it was too late - I had already sat in the chair and got my crazy Hogwarts Hair-cape put around my shoulders. I was going to lose my color virginity.
The excited Potter-Hater started highlighting my hair as if she was moving in slow motion. She looked confused by my hair and appeared scared that she was going to somehow mess up my "first time." Hogwarts kept bustling around me. One stylist screamed that she needed hairspray, then pointed her wand and shouted "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" I half expected something to happen. It didn't.
After a few minutes of doing my highlights, Potter-Hater said she wanted to ask her instructor a question. I said okay and continued reading my magazine while she went to find her instructor. She came back and said McGonagall was busy, but that she found her other instructor who could help. I looked in the mirror and almost audibly gasped: the reflection was filled with a huge man-and-a-half of a man with wild brown hair reaching down to his waist and a bushy beard. He was also wearing a cape and carrying a wand. It was HAGRID! I wanted to say, "Thanks for the help, but I'm not sure I want Hagrid doing my hair." Instead I just tried to remember that I was not actually in Hogwarts, and maybe this guy would know what he was doing. It turned out that he did - phew!
So the highlights were eventually completed. By the time my highlights were finished, my mom was already totally done (cut and color) and Rex was contemplating ways to kill this little boy in the waiting room who thought Rex was his best friend. To be fair, the kid was really weird. I went into the waiting room to talk to Rex while my hair was "seasoning." The kid is just lucky that Rex is a nice guy, or I think he may have gotten punched. "WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE COLOR? WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE FOOD? WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE CAR? WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE VIDEO GAME?" So annoying. He was the little House Elf of the hair salon.
Poor Rex and my mom had to wait for a few more hours while my hair was cut. Potter-Hater would comb a piece of hair, look at it, comb it again, look at it again, look at it again, ask her instructor a question, look at it again, then make a snip. This was the pattern for the ENTIRE HAIRCUT. And then she dried my hair in about one millimeter strands. It took FOREVER! I must admit, though, that the Harry Potter atmosphere made the wait more interesting. And in the end, my hair looked fabulous. No more "mush hair" for me! I just hope that when this lady opens her own salon (NEXT MONTH), that she only makes about one appointment per day. That's all she's going to have time for unless her friends lift the "slowness curse" that must have been put on her.
It all started because I wanted a haircut. A plain ol' haircut. Not even a CUT, really, but more of a trim just to get the split ends off so I can continue growing my hair out. My mom is currently in town visiting, and we decided to go get haircuts together as a "girls day." The Paul Mitchell Hair School is in Las Vegas (for those of you who don't know hair, Paul Mitchell is really reputable). I was expecting the hair school to be similar to Douglas J in Lansing, where students perform the services under the supervision of their instructors. It was kind of like that...
Before I get to the school itself, let's start with the part where I made reservations. My mom decided to get some color done with her haircut, so since I knew that would take a while I decided to get another hair service too. I have never had any dye put in my hair before, but I have been wanting to ever since I was sixteen when my friend Carly said, "Christine, WHAT is your hair color?! It's like, not brown, but not blonde. It's mush color. So either highlight it blonde or dye it brown, but for goodness sakes tell your hair to make up it's mind!" Harsh, right? Well, I decided to finally stop letting that comment get to me - my hair was going to make up it's mind!! Now the question was: brown or blonde? Highlights were cheaper. I decided to go blonde. Reservations were made, and my fate was sealed.
Now let me preface this next section by saying that I racked my brain to come up with good reasons to stay in a hair salon for five and a half hours, and I have only come up with three reasons:
1. You work at a hair salon.
2. You mistakenly offered to take your wife and mother-in-law to the hair salon and got stuck there (Sorry, Rex).
3. You are running from the law and that's the last place they would look for you.
Since none of those apply to me, there is NO good reason why I should have been in the hair salon for five and a half hours. But I WAS. Haircut+Highlights=Five and a half hours. I'm still not sure why.
I should have known something was amiss the second we walked through the doors. There were streamers everywhere, and it looked as if I had just walked into a giant party instead of a serious hair salon. I asked my hairstylist about it when I got to her chair, and she rolled her eyes at the stupidity of it all and said, "I guess it's Harry Potter day or something." I looked at the streamers again and noticed that there were different colors in different parts of the salon. I was in the "red and gold" section. Gryffindor - score! I let my eyes wander to the other stylists (I hadn't been able to see them from the waiting room), and I was shocked to see that most of them were dressed in Harry Potter clothes! Most of them were "sexy" Harry Potter characters, so it looked as if I had just walked onto the set of "Harry Potter - The Porno." But oh well. There was a "sexy Slytherin" wearing a green plaid skirt so short that you could practically see her butt, a low cut top and a green tie that strained unsuccessfully to hide her cleavage. I noticed her first (really, you would have too), but most of the other stylists looked like they were attending "Hogwarts - The Hair School" as well. There was even a dead ringer for a VERY gay Draco Malfoy. Did he bleach his hair just for Harry Potter day, or is it always that white? I will never know. My stylist was one of the only ones not dressed up (so she was probably cursed with slowness by her peers). I told her what I wanted, and she said, "Great. Let me go get my instructor." Her instructor came up, in costume, and we'll call her "Professor McGonagall" (since I was in Gryffindor). So McGonagall started toying with my hair, and a magic wand hung around her wrist started whipping me in the face. "Oops!" she said. "Sorry about that! I guess I should take my wand off." She set the wand on the table and finished my consultation. Then she asked if she could bring me some magazines and a "water cocktail." I said sure. For those of you who are wondering (because I was), a "water cocktail" is water with lemons and cucumbers floating in it. It was actually really delicious, but maybe that's just because I was being served a water cocktail by Professor McGonagall and that felt kind of cool.
So then the Potter-Hater started doing my hair. She stopped about two seconds in and said, "AH! You have no color story! Why don't you have a color story?!" I stared back blankly. She explained: "When was the last time your hair was dyed? Your hair should show bands of all the times it's been colored, but I can't find any in your hair." I told her my hair had never been dyed before. She didn't believe me and went to go get McGonagall. McGonagall came back, analyzed my hair, and said, "Yeah, it actually does look like virgin hair to me." My stylist got all excited. "Virgin hair?! WOW! That's crazy! It's all....blank! This is going to be great!" I shifted nervously. My hair was virgin? Should I be letting this woman color it? I didn't realize I had any virginity at stake here - shouldn't I wait for someone special or the "right time" or at least protect my hair somehow? I was about to be HAIR RAPED!! AAAAAAH!!! But it was too late - I had already sat in the chair and got my crazy Hogwarts Hair-cape put around my shoulders. I was going to lose my color virginity.
The excited Potter-Hater started highlighting my hair as if she was moving in slow motion. She looked confused by my hair and appeared scared that she was going to somehow mess up my "first time." Hogwarts kept bustling around me. One stylist screamed that she needed hairspray, then pointed her wand and shouted "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" I half expected something to happen. It didn't.
After a few minutes of doing my highlights, Potter-Hater said she wanted to ask her instructor a question. I said okay and continued reading my magazine while she went to find her instructor. She came back and said McGonagall was busy, but that she found her other instructor who could help. I looked in the mirror and almost audibly gasped: the reflection was filled with a huge man-and-a-half of a man with wild brown hair reaching down to his waist and a bushy beard. He was also wearing a cape and carrying a wand. It was HAGRID! I wanted to say, "Thanks for the help, but I'm not sure I want Hagrid doing my hair." Instead I just tried to remember that I was not actually in Hogwarts, and maybe this guy would know what he was doing. It turned out that he did - phew!
So the highlights were eventually completed. By the time my highlights were finished, my mom was already totally done (cut and color) and Rex was contemplating ways to kill this little boy in the waiting room who thought Rex was his best friend. To be fair, the kid was really weird. I went into the waiting room to talk to Rex while my hair was "seasoning." The kid is just lucky that Rex is a nice guy, or I think he may have gotten punched. "WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE COLOR? WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE FOOD? WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE CAR? WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE VIDEO GAME?" So annoying. He was the little House Elf of the hair salon.
Poor Rex and my mom had to wait for a few more hours while my hair was cut. Potter-Hater would comb a piece of hair, look at it, comb it again, look at it again, look at it again, ask her instructor a question, look at it again, then make a snip. This was the pattern for the ENTIRE HAIRCUT. And then she dried my hair in about one millimeter strands. It took FOREVER! I must admit, though, that the Harry Potter atmosphere made the wait more interesting. And in the end, my hair looked fabulous. No more "mush hair" for me! I just hope that when this lady opens her own salon (NEXT MONTH), that she only makes about one appointment per day. That's all she's going to have time for unless her friends lift the "slowness curse" that must have been put on her.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Weather
Well, a post on weather...my life must be SO boring!!
HA! TRICKED YOU! MY LIFE ISN'T BORING! You should have BEEN here to see the weather last night!
Let me start off by saying that Las Vegas really only has one kind of weather so far: sunny and hot. Before I moved here I was told that there are only two seasons: sunny and sunnier. This tidbit of information has been reinforced by the fact that I have met people here who asked me, "Is it true that in Michigan you have FOUR different seasons?" Yes, weirdos. Yes we do.
So every single day Rex and I have woken up to SUNNY and HOT (read: over 100 degrees) weather. There was one day when we saw a CLOUD in the sky! WHOA! But that was only one day - we figured it must be a lost cloud trying to find it's family or something. But it won't find it's family in the Las Vegas valley - it's perfectly blue skies every day.
Actually, after a while it started to get kind of annoying. The same weather every day? What's the fun in that? Do they even hire weathermen out here? I mean, that would be the easiest job EVER: hot and sunny, hot and sunny, hot and sunny. He only has ONE LINE. The "mother nature" who runs the weather out here, if there was one, would be one of those really annoying perky people who are just happy happy happy ALL THE TIME no matter WHAT. You know the type - they could probably watch their own house burn down and be like, "Wow....at least that fire is so pretty! And I was cold, but now it's warm!" Well, that's the type of mother nature that runs the place out here. She is certainly not related to the much more moody character who runs the Midwest.
That's why we were SHOCKED yesterday when the skies were completely clouded over! We literally walked outside, looked at the sky, looked at each other, and said, "Whoooooooooa..." Even when we went to church, one of our friends there commented, "What IS this weather?! I've lived here for years and it's NEVER like this!" We readily agreed that it was WEIRD weather (which seemed kind of hypocritical coming from Michigan where it is almost always cloudy, but I guess we had grown accustomed to the sun).
Later on, as we were driving to the Natasha Bedingfield concert (which really deserves a post of it's own...), it started POURING! It rained like I have never seen IN MY LIFE! Rex agreed with me that the raindrops spattering our windshield were the biggest we had ever seen - it looked as if sky ninjas were throwing thousands of invisible water balloons at us. Also, there was suddenly lightning everywhere! And not the gentle lighting that looks like "oh, the sky is brightened for a moment." No, this was silver dagger lightning that stabbed the ground in front of our car, behind it, and on both sides! We were right in the middle of the storm! EEEEEEEEK!
Also, as further proof that this weather is BIZARRE for this desert region, the highways and roads had no drainage systems. So within five minutes of the rainfall beginning, there were rivers running along the highway. Everything was flooded. We drove into town and the water was up over the sidewalk curb! I could practically swim in it! There were WAVES in the STREET! AHHHHHH! It felt like Noah's Ark, but instead it was "Rex's Suburban." But, just like Noah and his ark, we were safe. Phew! It was highly weird, though. Everyone in town was freaking out. It was almost as bad as, "What is THIS?! WATER falling from the SKY?!?! AAAAAAHHHHH!!! APOCALYPSE!" So I guess I shouldn't be expecting a lot more rain while we live here, but that was a pretty crazy storm. At least it watered our grass that was getting kind of brown! Then again, without drainage systems, I guess it kind of watered everything. Oh, well. Our mother nature must be PMS-ing or something. I'm sure she'll be back to her perky self soon.
HA! TRICKED YOU! MY LIFE ISN'T BORING! You should have BEEN here to see the weather last night!
Let me start off by saying that Las Vegas really only has one kind of weather so far: sunny and hot. Before I moved here I was told that there are only two seasons: sunny and sunnier. This tidbit of information has been reinforced by the fact that I have met people here who asked me, "Is it true that in Michigan you have FOUR different seasons?" Yes, weirdos. Yes we do.
So every single day Rex and I have woken up to SUNNY and HOT (read: over 100 degrees) weather. There was one day when we saw a CLOUD in the sky! WHOA! But that was only one day - we figured it must be a lost cloud trying to find it's family or something. But it won't find it's family in the Las Vegas valley - it's perfectly blue skies every day.
Actually, after a while it started to get kind of annoying. The same weather every day? What's the fun in that? Do they even hire weathermen out here? I mean, that would be the easiest job EVER: hot and sunny, hot and sunny, hot and sunny. He only has ONE LINE. The "mother nature" who runs the weather out here, if there was one, would be one of those really annoying perky people who are just happy happy happy ALL THE TIME no matter WHAT. You know the type - they could probably watch their own house burn down and be like, "Wow....at least that fire is so pretty! And I was cold, but now it's warm!" Well, that's the type of mother nature that runs the place out here. She is certainly not related to the much more moody character who runs the Midwest.
That's why we were SHOCKED yesterday when the skies were completely clouded over! We literally walked outside, looked at the sky, looked at each other, and said, "Whoooooooooa..." Even when we went to church, one of our friends there commented, "What IS this weather?! I've lived here for years and it's NEVER like this!" We readily agreed that it was WEIRD weather (which seemed kind of hypocritical coming from Michigan where it is almost always cloudy, but I guess we had grown accustomed to the sun).
Later on, as we were driving to the Natasha Bedingfield concert (which really deserves a post of it's own...), it started POURING! It rained like I have never seen IN MY LIFE! Rex agreed with me that the raindrops spattering our windshield were the biggest we had ever seen - it looked as if sky ninjas were throwing thousands of invisible water balloons at us. Also, there was suddenly lightning everywhere! And not the gentle lighting that looks like "oh, the sky is brightened for a moment." No, this was silver dagger lightning that stabbed the ground in front of our car, behind it, and on both sides! We were right in the middle of the storm! EEEEEEEEK!
Also, as further proof that this weather is BIZARRE for this desert region, the highways and roads had no drainage systems. So within five minutes of the rainfall beginning, there were rivers running along the highway. Everything was flooded. We drove into town and the water was up over the sidewalk curb! I could practically swim in it! There were WAVES in the STREET! AHHHHHH! It felt like Noah's Ark, but instead it was "Rex's Suburban." But, just like Noah and his ark, we were safe. Phew! It was highly weird, though. Everyone in town was freaking out. It was almost as bad as, "What is THIS?! WATER falling from the SKY?!?! AAAAAAHHHHH!!! APOCALYPSE!" So I guess I shouldn't be expecting a lot more rain while we live here, but that was a pretty crazy storm. At least it watered our grass that was getting kind of brown! Then again, without drainage systems, I guess it kind of watered everything. Oh, well. Our mother nature must be PMS-ing or something. I'm sure she'll be back to her perky self soon.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
I Miss Middle School
Summer is fun, but I SO miss being in a classroom. If that fact confuses you, just go back to my school year posts and read the shenanigans my students were always getting into. They were SO MUCH FUN! I am getting really pumped to start my new job this fall and be in middle school again. I'm sure I will have many more student stories to post. I was thinking, though: just because I'm not currently in a classroom, why can't I still post student stories? My kids are still just as funny even though I am living thousands of miles away from them! I gave them all my e-mail address on the last day of school, and I have been corresponding with many of them via e-mail over the summer. I figure I will copy and paste to you this e-mail that I got today, because it is a true middle school gem. I have changed names; other than that it's exactly how she wrote it:
omg! i am rrrreeeeaaaallllyyyyy mad at diane! ok so i guess me and mark were dating which was like whoa since when did that happen? i didnt even know! but anyways i told diane that i thought this guy from another school was kinda sorta cute and i made diane swear on my life not to tell mark cuz i know he's like sensative about things like that and diane was ok i swear not to tell i'd never do that to you, and what does she do? she goes and tells him!
so then that leads to mark calling me a female dog and after days i finally forgave diane and she said wow im glad you're not mad anymore cuz when u were u wer acting like a real (insert the word for female dog here)
this makes me really mad because still at the end of the day diane is trying to make me feel guilty saying "you shouldn't be mad this is your last summer until you move to florida." but she's the one that gave me a perfectly stable reason to be mad!
it just makes me all really mad that i cant trust diane this isnt the first time she has told mark one of my secrets so thts y it makes me even more mad! i just cant forgive her its honestly too late for her to apologize! ugh! i feel like she has absolutely no respect for my feelings. like honestly what did i do to her that made her do such horrible things to me! i took her to see katy perry for gosh sakes!
well i hope u r loving las vegas!!!!!!!!
-patty
omg! i am rrrreeeeaaaallllyyyyy mad at diane! ok so i guess me and mark were dating which was like whoa since when did that happen? i didnt even know! but anyways i told diane that i thought this guy from another school was kinda sorta cute and i made diane swear on my life not to tell mark cuz i know he's like sensative about things like that and diane was ok i swear not to tell i'd never do that to you, and what does she do? she goes and tells him!
so then that leads to mark calling me a female dog and after days i finally forgave diane and she said wow im glad you're not mad anymore cuz when u were u wer acting like a real (insert the word for female dog here)
this makes me really mad because still at the end of the day diane is trying to make me feel guilty saying "you shouldn't be mad this is your last summer until you move to florida." but she's the one that gave me a perfectly stable reason to be mad!
it just makes me all really mad that i cant trust diane this isnt the first time she has told mark one of my secrets so thts y it makes me even more mad! i just cant forgive her its honestly too late for her to apologize! ugh! i feel like she has absolutely no respect for my feelings. like honestly what did i do to her that made her do such horrible things to me! i took her to see katy perry for gosh sakes!
well i hope u r loving las vegas!!!!!!!!
-patty
Friend-O-Rama
WARNING: This post is a sequel to the previous post entitled "Prejudice and...well really just Prejudice." If you haven't read that one, go read it NOW before you read this one. Seriously; stop reading this post and go read that one. You've read it? Are you sure? Because this post is about to start, and once you start reading there's no turning back... Fine. I'll assume you've read it. Here we go.
So when I last left you, I was full of excitement/nervousness over meeting Jermaine and his "lady friend." All the way over to the bowling alley I ran potential conversation starters past Rex:
1. So, slavery....that SUCKED, huh?
2. How about that milk chocolatey president we've got going on? Pretty cool, huh?
3. What are your views on the "n" word? Personally, I am anti.
4. You know who I love? Martin Luther King Jr. And I HAVE A DREAM that we will be friends!
Rex said, "Christine. For real. You are going to be QUIET, and you can just nod once in a while. I'll work on the conversation starters." Good enough for me.
So we arrived at the bowling alley, and I felt like we were on a blind date because Rex texted to Jermaine, "I am wearing a Michigan State shirt and my wife is wearing pink." So he was supposed to identify us. I panicked, "Rex, what if he doesn't know what a Michigan State shirt looks like?!" (it only had a Spartan logo on it - no words). Rex assured me, "He went to the University of Texas. He knows Michigan State." As if somehow that would assure all of my doubts. I told him I still didn't think it would work because the Spartan logo isn't some sort of universal symbol. Just to make me look like an idiot (seriously, these things always happen to me), as we were walking toward the bowling alley some RANDOM person yells out, "Woot! Go Michigan State!" Rex gave me a look that said, "See? Everyone knows our school." Blast.
We walked into the bowling alley, and sure enough - Jermaine recognized us. (I still hold that it was by my wearing pink and not by Rex's shirt that caused the recognition - just fyi). He got up out of his chair and casually held out his hand. "Hey guys, I'm J.B." My thoughts started racing: "JB? JB?! I thought you were Jermaine! Why the heck did you start going by JB?? But if you want us to call you 'JB,' I mean I guess I can do that, though in middle school culture 'JB' refers to the one and only 'Justin Bieber' and, I'm sorry sir, you're the farthest thing from JB imaginable." In accordance with Rex's wishes for me to remain silent, though, I did. I just nodded my head and let out a cavalier, "Hey JB. I'm Christine." WHOO HOO! SUCCESSFUL, NON OFFENSIVE INTRODUCTION!!!! He then introduced me to his "lady friend," who was about as much like TRAY-SAY as JB was like Justin Bieber. Amy is WHITE and THIRTY and didn't even bowl - she just sat at the table.
Just as these introductions were completed, a table of people next to us got up and said, "Hey, are you the Physical Therapy people?" My eyes widened in delighted surprise. People got the message on facebook to come! We were FRIEND RICH!!! I could go on in a loooooooong boring post about how we had fun bowling (Rex won and I got third), how we sat at the SUPER fancy bar afterwards and enjoyed their special (99 cent margaritas - WOOT!), and how we generally had a really great night getting to know each other and didn't go home until midnight. That would be a boring post, though. Instead, let me introduce you to my NEW FRIENDS!!! (Disclaimer: I know they're technically "Rex's" friends since they're PT people, but I told them that if I don't make friends with Rex's classmates then all of my friends this year will be twelve year olds. They agreed to adopt me into their Physical Therapy group.)
Here are my NEW FRIENDS!!!
JB: Highly cool. Not scary at all. (Also nothing like Justin Bieber, but I digress). He's from Texas, and he used to go hang out across the Mexican border a lot until one of his friends got drunk and arrested there, and the police took the guy's ID so then he had no way to get back into America. JB had to go give the guy food and clothes while he tried to get a hold of the American embassy and get his ID back so he could go home, but the guy ended up wandering the streets of Mexico for like 2 weeks and JB said that was really freaky so he never went to Mexico again. OH, and he said drug dealers there are really hard core and kill you in a million gruesome ways if you owe them money and that sometimes they transport drugs inside of dead babies. WHAT?!! But JB doesn't do drugs (Um, I WOULDN'T EITHER AFTER THOSE STORIES), and he is very anti-Mexico. I kind of never want to go there now.
Amy: JB's gf who moved here with him and is currently trying to get a job. She has FOUR degrees, so I figured finding a job would be relatively easy. Well, it apparently isn't easy when your degrees are Bachelors in English and History and Masters in "Jewish Genocide Studies" and "Museum Caretaking." So she hasn't found any work yet. She was job searching on her phone during bowling, and I tried to convince her to stop and have fun, but alas. She had fun afterwards, though, and told us about her time working for the Sheriff's station when she had to clean someone's brain off of a wall. Eww... But she can't work in law enforcement now since she wrecked her knee and has had EIGHT knee surgeries. Holy cow.
Karen: Really cool, recently engaged girl from Boise. I freaked out at the tell-tale glimmer on her left hand and exclaimed, "Are you ENGAGED?!" She said yes, and I instantly had to know the story of the engagement, what kind of dress she's looking for, where the wedding's going to be (HAWAII), etc. Rex and Karen's fiance looked at each other like, "Girls, huh? How dumb..." So I told them to go talk about football or something because I had not spoken to a girl in WEEKS and I WOULD get my girl talk! So we had fun talking about weddings and she said I can go dress shopping with her sometime! SCORE!! This is MY KIND OF FRIEND.
Matt: Karen's fiance. He pretty much sat quietly next to Karen all night. Like, really - I don't think he said anything (though who can blame him when our favorite topic was weddings). He plays football for Boise State, and whenever it was his turn to bowl he just CHUCKED the ball at the pins and they usually flew all over the place like the ball had exploded down there or something. He is in his last year at Boise State, and he's getting pumped for football season.
Katie: Awesome girl who discovered the 99 cent margarita special (right there - she is a good friend). She is TALL (6'3"), and from Massachusetts. She did her undergrad at "The University of New England," which I think sounds very proper. She said she's been bored out of her mind waiting for school to start and having a hard time making friends, so she is a definite potential for future hangouts. Actually, I think we're getting together at her place tomorrow for a Fourth of July barbeque. Cool!
Steven: I'm really not sure what to make of this guy. He was so intriguing! He's from Oregon. He lives by himself, but recently adopted a labradoodle. He just got finished working in "Corporate Management" and had decided he wants to be a physical therapist. He despised corporate management. I'm glad I never tried it. He told us all of these crazy stories about his undergrad experience such as, "Oh yes, when I was studying abroad in Nicaragua I delivered a baby..." WHAT, STEVEN?! YOU DELIVERED A BABY? "Oh yes, I even cut the placenta and the umbilical cord and everything. Childbirth is truly fascinating - I don't think it's as bad as everyone says." Easy for YOU to say, STEVEN. You're a guy.
As a side note, I felt like I was yelling at him all night when I called him "Steven." Who named Steven actually goes by "Steven"? There's usually some variation, like Steve, Stevie, Steve-o, you know - something! But this guy is just "Steven." So proper. Maybe he should get together with Katie and they can move to New England and live very proper lives.
So there you have it, folks - my NEW FRIENDS!! Hopefully we will end up doing that barbeque tomorrow, and then I might even have MORE stories for you! This blog might live on! HOORAY!
So when I last left you, I was full of excitement/nervousness over meeting Jermaine and his "lady friend." All the way over to the bowling alley I ran potential conversation starters past Rex:
1. So, slavery....that SUCKED, huh?
2. How about that milk chocolatey president we've got going on? Pretty cool, huh?
3. What are your views on the "n" word? Personally, I am anti.
4. You know who I love? Martin Luther King Jr. And I HAVE A DREAM that we will be friends!
Rex said, "Christine. For real. You are going to be QUIET, and you can just nod once in a while. I'll work on the conversation starters." Good enough for me.
So we arrived at the bowling alley, and I felt like we were on a blind date because Rex texted to Jermaine, "I am wearing a Michigan State shirt and my wife is wearing pink." So he was supposed to identify us. I panicked, "Rex, what if he doesn't know what a Michigan State shirt looks like?!" (it only had a Spartan logo on it - no words). Rex assured me, "He went to the University of Texas. He knows Michigan State." As if somehow that would assure all of my doubts. I told him I still didn't think it would work because the Spartan logo isn't some sort of universal symbol. Just to make me look like an idiot (seriously, these things always happen to me), as we were walking toward the bowling alley some RANDOM person yells out, "Woot! Go Michigan State!" Rex gave me a look that said, "See? Everyone knows our school." Blast.
We walked into the bowling alley, and sure enough - Jermaine recognized us. (I still hold that it was by my wearing pink and not by Rex's shirt that caused the recognition - just fyi). He got up out of his chair and casually held out his hand. "Hey guys, I'm J.B." My thoughts started racing: "JB? JB?! I thought you were Jermaine! Why the heck did you start going by JB?? But if you want us to call you 'JB,' I mean I guess I can do that, though in middle school culture 'JB' refers to the one and only 'Justin Bieber' and, I'm sorry sir, you're the farthest thing from JB imaginable." In accordance with Rex's wishes for me to remain silent, though, I did. I just nodded my head and let out a cavalier, "Hey JB. I'm Christine." WHOO HOO! SUCCESSFUL, NON OFFENSIVE INTRODUCTION!!!! He then introduced me to his "lady friend," who was about as much like TRAY-SAY as JB was like Justin Bieber. Amy is WHITE and THIRTY and didn't even bowl - she just sat at the table.
Just as these introductions were completed, a table of people next to us got up and said, "Hey, are you the Physical Therapy people?" My eyes widened in delighted surprise. People got the message on facebook to come! We were FRIEND RICH!!! I could go on in a loooooooong boring post about how we had fun bowling (Rex won and I got third), how we sat at the SUPER fancy bar afterwards and enjoyed their special (99 cent margaritas - WOOT!), and how we generally had a really great night getting to know each other and didn't go home until midnight. That would be a boring post, though. Instead, let me introduce you to my NEW FRIENDS!!! (Disclaimer: I know they're technically "Rex's" friends since they're PT people, but I told them that if I don't make friends with Rex's classmates then all of my friends this year will be twelve year olds. They agreed to adopt me into their Physical Therapy group.)
Here are my NEW FRIENDS!!!
JB: Highly cool. Not scary at all. (Also nothing like Justin Bieber, but I digress). He's from Texas, and he used to go hang out across the Mexican border a lot until one of his friends got drunk and arrested there, and the police took the guy's ID so then he had no way to get back into America. JB had to go give the guy food and clothes while he tried to get a hold of the American embassy and get his ID back so he could go home, but the guy ended up wandering the streets of Mexico for like 2 weeks and JB said that was really freaky so he never went to Mexico again. OH, and he said drug dealers there are really hard core and kill you in a million gruesome ways if you owe them money and that sometimes they transport drugs inside of dead babies. WHAT?!! But JB doesn't do drugs (Um, I WOULDN'T EITHER AFTER THOSE STORIES), and he is very anti-Mexico. I kind of never want to go there now.
Amy: JB's gf who moved here with him and is currently trying to get a job. She has FOUR degrees, so I figured finding a job would be relatively easy. Well, it apparently isn't easy when your degrees are Bachelors in English and History and Masters in "Jewish Genocide Studies" and "Museum Caretaking." So she hasn't found any work yet. She was job searching on her phone during bowling, and I tried to convince her to stop and have fun, but alas. She had fun afterwards, though, and told us about her time working for the Sheriff's station when she had to clean someone's brain off of a wall. Eww... But she can't work in law enforcement now since she wrecked her knee and has had EIGHT knee surgeries. Holy cow.
Karen: Really cool, recently engaged girl from Boise. I freaked out at the tell-tale glimmer on her left hand and exclaimed, "Are you ENGAGED?!" She said yes, and I instantly had to know the story of the engagement, what kind of dress she's looking for, where the wedding's going to be (HAWAII), etc. Rex and Karen's fiance looked at each other like, "Girls, huh? How dumb..." So I told them to go talk about football or something because I had not spoken to a girl in WEEKS and I WOULD get my girl talk! So we had fun talking about weddings and she said I can go dress shopping with her sometime! SCORE!! This is MY KIND OF FRIEND.
Matt: Karen's fiance. He pretty much sat quietly next to Karen all night. Like, really - I don't think he said anything (though who can blame him when our favorite topic was weddings). He plays football for Boise State, and whenever it was his turn to bowl he just CHUCKED the ball at the pins and they usually flew all over the place like the ball had exploded down there or something. He is in his last year at Boise State, and he's getting pumped for football season.
Katie: Awesome girl who discovered the 99 cent margarita special (right there - she is a good friend). She is TALL (6'3"), and from Massachusetts. She did her undergrad at "The University of New England," which I think sounds very proper. She said she's been bored out of her mind waiting for school to start and having a hard time making friends, so she is a definite potential for future hangouts. Actually, I think we're getting together at her place tomorrow for a Fourth of July barbeque. Cool!
Steven: I'm really not sure what to make of this guy. He was so intriguing! He's from Oregon. He lives by himself, but recently adopted a labradoodle. He just got finished working in "Corporate Management" and had decided he wants to be a physical therapist. He despised corporate management. I'm glad I never tried it. He told us all of these crazy stories about his undergrad experience such as, "Oh yes, when I was studying abroad in Nicaragua I delivered a baby..." WHAT, STEVEN?! YOU DELIVERED A BABY? "Oh yes, I even cut the placenta and the umbilical cord and everything. Childbirth is truly fascinating - I don't think it's as bad as everyone says." Easy for YOU to say, STEVEN. You're a guy.
As a side note, I felt like I was yelling at him all night when I called him "Steven." Who named Steven actually goes by "Steven"? There's usually some variation, like Steve, Stevie, Steve-o, you know - something! But this guy is just "Steven." So proper. Maybe he should get together with Katie and they can move to New England and live very proper lives.
So there you have it, folks - my NEW FRIENDS!! Hopefully we will end up doing that barbeque tomorrow, and then I might even have MORE stories for you! This blog might live on! HOORAY!
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Prejudice and...well, really just Prejudice
Let me start off this post by saying I am NOT racist.
There, got your attention, didn't I? Anyway, Rex and I have now lived here for two and a half weeks, and we STILL haven't made any friends! I am a social butterfly living like a hermit crab! I LOVE my husband and my pets, but a girl needs friends, ya know? I have resorted to writing about FINCH WARS!! I need something exciting to happen in my life soon, or I am going to lose my loyal readers (aka "groupies," right Sarah? lol).
So I decided the alarmingly mediocre Finch Wars post was the final straw - it is TIME for me to make some friends! I pressured Rex into posting on the facebook group for his new school asking if anyone else from his class lives in our apartment complex. SOMEONE DOES!! As soon as he said that he got a reply, I did a little happy dance around the apartment. Here is a potential FRIEND!!!
So obviously I had to scour this person's facebook for information. This guy's name is "Jermaine," and here's the part where I swear I am not racist, but he is BIG and BLACK and I think he could EAT ME (well, that's what he looks like in his profile pic, anyway). He played football in Texas before coming here, and he looks cool/scary (mostly "cool" because I am highly desperate for friends at this point). Also, being raised in private schools, I just haven't known that many black people. Rex said I'm going to mess up our potential friendship with this guy by calling him "J-dizzle" or something like that, but I WON'T! I tried defending myself to Rex by saying that our neighbor Karl at our old apartment was black, and he was one of our best friends! Rex said that it doesn't count because Karl is a half-black guy who was adopted and raised by two white parents. I still think it should count.
Anyway, so we had this "Jermaine" character expressing interest in us. Well, in Rex. So Rex labored over a facebook message that would "ask him to do something, but not sound desperate or like I'm asking him out." That's actually trickier than you might think when you're writing to a stranger. Pretty much everything ends up sounding creepy.
Apparently Rex's message didn't sound TOO creepy, because Jermaine responded! He said he wanted to meet up! WHOO HOO!!! POTENTIAL FRIEND HAS BEEN SNAGGED! So we decided to go bowling. He said that he and his "lady friend" will meet us at the bowling alley at 8:30 tonight. I'm so nervous! AHHHH!! I said to Rex, "Oh my gosh, what if his lady friend is TRAY-SAY?!" That's when Rex was certain that I am somehow going to mess this night up. If you don't know TRAY-SAY, check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtkU2ch0sRI
I DON'T think all black people are like that, but what if his "lady friend" is? I won't know what to do! But I really want to make a new friend because I haven't had girl talk in FOREVER! I mean, a few days ago I resorted to facebook messaging my brother-in-law's girlfriend. *hangs head in shame* Yes, it has gotten that bad. So I am putting a lot of stock in this bowling adventure tonight. Rex put a note on his class's facebook group that we are going, so maybe MORE people will come and we could make even MORE friends! We could be FRIEND RICH by the end of tonight! But until then, I am prepared to talk to Jermaine's lady friend about the logistics of dyeing one's hair with Kool-aid.
Crap. I am going to get punched for sure. WILL I NEVER HAVE A LAS VEGAS FRIEND?!?!?!
There, got your attention, didn't I? Anyway, Rex and I have now lived here for two and a half weeks, and we STILL haven't made any friends! I am a social butterfly living like a hermit crab! I LOVE my husband and my pets, but a girl needs friends, ya know? I have resorted to writing about FINCH WARS!! I need something exciting to happen in my life soon, or I am going to lose my loyal readers (aka "groupies," right Sarah? lol).
So I decided the alarmingly mediocre Finch Wars post was the final straw - it is TIME for me to make some friends! I pressured Rex into posting on the facebook group for his new school asking if anyone else from his class lives in our apartment complex. SOMEONE DOES!! As soon as he said that he got a reply, I did a little happy dance around the apartment. Here is a potential FRIEND!!!
So obviously I had to scour this person's facebook for information. This guy's name is "Jermaine," and here's the part where I swear I am not racist, but he is BIG and BLACK and I think he could EAT ME (well, that's what he looks like in his profile pic, anyway). He played football in Texas before coming here, and he looks cool/scary (mostly "cool" because I am highly desperate for friends at this point). Also, being raised in private schools, I just haven't known that many black people. Rex said I'm going to mess up our potential friendship with this guy by calling him "J-dizzle" or something like that, but I WON'T! I tried defending myself to Rex by saying that our neighbor Karl at our old apartment was black, and he was one of our best friends! Rex said that it doesn't count because Karl is a half-black guy who was adopted and raised by two white parents. I still think it should count.
Anyway, so we had this "Jermaine" character expressing interest in us. Well, in Rex. So Rex labored over a facebook message that would "ask him to do something, but not sound desperate or like I'm asking him out." That's actually trickier than you might think when you're writing to a stranger. Pretty much everything ends up sounding creepy.
Apparently Rex's message didn't sound TOO creepy, because Jermaine responded! He said he wanted to meet up! WHOO HOO!!! POTENTIAL FRIEND HAS BEEN SNAGGED! So we decided to go bowling. He said that he and his "lady friend" will meet us at the bowling alley at 8:30 tonight. I'm so nervous! AHHHH!! I said to Rex, "Oh my gosh, what if his lady friend is TRAY-SAY?!" That's when Rex was certain that I am somehow going to mess this night up. If you don't know TRAY-SAY, check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtkU2ch0sRI
I DON'T think all black people are like that, but what if his "lady friend" is? I won't know what to do! But I really want to make a new friend because I haven't had girl talk in FOREVER! I mean, a few days ago I resorted to facebook messaging my brother-in-law's girlfriend. *hangs head in shame* Yes, it has gotten that bad. So I am putting a lot of stock in this bowling adventure tonight. Rex put a note on his class's facebook group that we are going, so maybe MORE people will come and we could make even MORE friends! We could be FRIEND RICH by the end of tonight! But until then, I am prepared to talk to Jermaine's lady friend about the logistics of dyeing one's hair with Kool-aid.
Crap. I am going to get punched for sure. WILL I NEVER HAVE A LAS VEGAS FRIEND?!?!?!
Friday, July 1, 2011
Finch Wars
We have no TV and WAY too much time on our hands until Rex starts school next week.
I tried to convince him to go out and do something tonight, but currently he is too busy looking at every picture of himself that has ever been posted to facebook. Kind of egotistical, but he already lost at Parcheesi today so I guess there's not a whole lot left to do.
Here is what I want to do, and I think you will all agree that it is WAY COOL: I want to play FINCH WARS!
We have a bird feeder on our porch, and it is the hot spot in town for all resident finches and doves. The most we have counted was FOURTEEN of them swarming around the feeder at once. The problem is, though, that the feeder only has six sides. So they all fight over who gets to eat the seeds, and the rest of the birds either sit in the tree next to our apartment or hang out on the floor of the balcony while waiting their turn. The doves never win. They're all "peaceful" and blah blah blah. So they mostly eat the seeds that the finches drop on the ground. The finches, though, get FIERCE!
So, in true Las Vegas fashion, I think we should bet on the finches and say who we think will get spots on the feeder. It's like watching wrestling or boxing on TV, but NATURE edition! I tried to start this game by saying, "Hey Rex! Come watch the birds! I bet you five bucks the orange guy makes it to the feeder before the gray one!" He looked at me like I was an idiot and went back to admiring pictures of himself. I moped frustratedly as Rex exclaimed silly things like, "Where did THOSE shoes go?!" or "Look at my HAIR in high school!" or "Your sister looks like a goober in this picture of me, her, and the mastadon tooth."
Really, Rex?! That's more fun than FINCH WARS?? I disagree. So now I am playing finch wars by myself, but it is much less fun. You, reader, should come play it with me.
I tried to convince him to go out and do something tonight, but currently he is too busy looking at every picture of himself that has ever been posted to facebook. Kind of egotistical, but he already lost at Parcheesi today so I guess there's not a whole lot left to do.
Here is what I want to do, and I think you will all agree that it is WAY COOL: I want to play FINCH WARS!
We have a bird feeder on our porch, and it is the hot spot in town for all resident finches and doves. The most we have counted was FOURTEEN of them swarming around the feeder at once. The problem is, though, that the feeder only has six sides. So they all fight over who gets to eat the seeds, and the rest of the birds either sit in the tree next to our apartment or hang out on the floor of the balcony while waiting their turn. The doves never win. They're all "peaceful" and blah blah blah. So they mostly eat the seeds that the finches drop on the ground. The finches, though, get FIERCE!
So, in true Las Vegas fashion, I think we should bet on the finches and say who we think will get spots on the feeder. It's like watching wrestling or boxing on TV, but NATURE edition! I tried to start this game by saying, "Hey Rex! Come watch the birds! I bet you five bucks the orange guy makes it to the feeder before the gray one!" He looked at me like I was an idiot and went back to admiring pictures of himself. I moped frustratedly as Rex exclaimed silly things like, "Where did THOSE shoes go?!" or "Look at my HAIR in high school!" or "Your sister looks like a goober in this picture of me, her, and the mastadon tooth."
Really, Rex?! That's more fun than FINCH WARS?? I disagree. So now I am playing finch wars by myself, but it is much less fun. You, reader, should come play it with me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)