Fact: Being a benevolent granddaughter has its drawbacks. But I should have realized that before I started driving her around town on Wednesday.
My grandmother needed a ride to the doctor on Wednesday morning and, since it got my out of the house when Annie and Ali were visiting with "long-lost relatives," I agreed to drive to the doctor's office.
We went to the doctor's and got there half an hour early. So we waited. And waited. They called back my grandmother. So then I waited. And waited. This old man and this old lady sat down near me and started telling me how I should sell my stuff and just spend time with my family because when I die, no one wants my stuff. Apparently, the wife of this old man died from choking on peanut butter and then he had 50 bags of good clothes of hers that he had to get rid of. (I'm traumatized now.)
After my grandmother got out of the doctor's office, she had 2 prescriptions to fill. So after I brought lunch to her and my grandfather at home (Note: KFC chicken pot pies are loves by them), I took her to Rite Aid to get her medicines.
There was going to be an hour long wait to fill them but we had stuff she needed to get done in the store so we puttered about for a while. We got back into the pharmacy line to pick them up when this lady and her son (who was probably still in high school or just graduated from it) started staring at me. They made no attempts to discretely stare either. Just flat out stared.
The mom leaned over to her son and said, "Doesn't she look like Jess?" to which the son confirmed. By that time, they realized that they were staring and that I was staring back at them so then the lady started talking to me.
"I'm sorry," she said. "You just look like someone we knew."
"Oh really?"
"Yea. You look just like my older son's ex girlfriend. It's uncanny. I think it's the smile. Can I take a picture and send it to my sister and my son? They won't believe this!"
And then she snapped a picture on her iPhone and showed me and sent it off into cyberspace. "Actually, you look like her in all features but maybe the nose."
Yay. Once again, my nose is the thing that differentiates me from my doppelganger. Because that doesn't make me self-conscious about it at all. I asked her what the girl's name was to see if maybe she was a cousin of mine or not and she said, "You're not. Her name was Jess but she passed away. She was an only child and didn't have much family outside of her parents."
I felt bad and gave my apologies. The lady responded, "Oh it's okay. She was murdered like a year ago. You could say that her ex-boyfriend was crazy and couldn't bear to see her dating my son so he killed her. You look so much like her though. Are you single? I sorta want to get my son to talk to you."
OH.MY.GOODNESS. Did she just tell me that this girl was murdered and then try to get me to hook up with her son? WHAT?! How is that not creepy at all? Because I'd want to date another person who looked just like my ex that had a creepy and mean ex? AHHHH!
In my stunned and embarrassed Cara-manner, of course my response was, 'uhh........ maybe?' By this time my grandmother was listening in and said, "She's single." Grrrrr Ma Ma. Not cool at all. Worst wingman ever.
The lady then said, "eh. You probably aren't old enough for him or live close. He's 29. How old are you? Do you live nearby?'
"I'm only 21 and I live in Delaware. Except for 2 weeks when I'm here driving my grandmother around."
"Did you hear that? She's sweet too!! She drives her grandmother around" the crazy lady said to her poor son. "I'm sad. Delaware is too far away for us." Sighhhhh.
Hallelujah! I'm saved! Thank you Delaware and all of your wonderfulness! You deserve a cookie. The entire land of Delaware needs to be fed a cookie. All those who live in that glorious state, please, for my sake feed it a cookie. Thanks!
Around this time, my grandmother's prescription was filled and I was able to give closing remarks like, "I'm sorry about her passing away. Have a Merry Christmas!" And then walk away with my grandmother saying, "well they were nice!"
Grrr. I do not like having so many doppelgangers. This is probably the 7th one this year where someone has told me I look like girls they know. This time was most definitely the creepiest one yet though. I do not want to look like a girl who has a psycho ex-boyfriend. I do not like it at all. I refuse.
Note to the boys: Please don't be psycho and kill ex-girlfriends. That's just mean. Girls often will get over your relationship as soon as they meet another boy. So you should just meet another girl (WHO DOESN'T LOOK LIKE THE EX!!) and get over her too. Or become a monk. Just how I'm aspiring to become a nun. Just sayin'. Secondly, please don't ever let your mothers get numbers of girls for you. That's just odd. Especially when those girls look like people you know but aren't them. Thirdly, don't eat peanut butter. I don't want you to die either. Kthxbai
Friday, December 24, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Catherine's Lost and Found Phone
The other day had potential to be terrible. Or awesome. Really it was just ordinary with the exception of the possibility of being kidnapped.
In other words, Catherine left her phone in the grocery store. So as she was panicking about not being able to find it, I'm trying to call it to rescue the nifty contraption but to no avail. Luckily, a woman found it! Yay... sorta. I don't know about you, but if you find a cell phone in the grocery store and you don't intend on stealing it, why wouldn't you just give it to customer service at the front instead of keeping it and trying to deal with it yourself?
I don't know why she decided to take matters into her own hand but she did. And got some stranger man (probs her hubby) to call Catherine's father. Who then emailed Catherine telling Catherine to 'call this man- he has your phone.' Thanks Mr. Collison.
Catherine found me and used my phone to contact this random dude who has her phone and we have no idea who he is. And being the bright, single girl that she is, she agrees to go to his house to pick it up (so as not to inconvenience him apparently).
Girl-101 clearly teaches us to NEVER DO THAT! So Catherine, then asked me to go with her, and I do because I don't want her to die alone and if I die, I have Jesus so it'll be ok for me. But before we left, I sent out a text to 6 people saying, 'Going to retrieve Catherine's phone at a strange man's house so if we're human trafficked, you'll know why. Here's the address....'
You know who is a good ICE (In Case of Emergency) contact when they respond quickly and in a caring manner. Such as 'hahahaha' or 'best.text.ever.'
When we got to the house, we get out. The house is completely dark while all the neighboring houses in the development are lit up, thus giving off this eery feeling. As we get out of the car, I grab a pen to have, just in case, to stab him if he does something. I have my phone unlocked and ready to dial when Catherine rings the doorbell.
The man with the phone comes to the door and opens it, immediately handing her the phone. And says 'Here ya go!' No big deal. And then it happens.
The cutest and friendliest little terrier came running out of the house, barking and greeting us! And by terrier, I mean he looked like Wishbone. Any sketchy or uneasy feeling I had completely faded with the interaction of this dog and watching this dog sniff Catherine's butt. Sure, having a dog would have been a good ploy to distract us girls from the danger at hand but the niceness of the dog surely proved the intentions of the man and his inward spirit, I'm positive of it. Usually mean people have crazy animals and this dog was not crazy.
I was very sad to go. Happy that I was not raped or attacked or abused and happy that we got Catherine's phone back all nice a safely. But sad to leave the dog behind. I miss animals and pets. Oh well.
My advice for the future and all you readers is: don't take home lost phones from the grocery store but leave them at the store with the employees and don't meet strange men at their house to retrieve your phone, instead meet at a Wawa or Starbucks or some other public area. And Wishbone dogs are distracting, beware.
In other words, Catherine left her phone in the grocery store. So as she was panicking about not being able to find it, I'm trying to call it to rescue the nifty contraption but to no avail. Luckily, a woman found it! Yay... sorta. I don't know about you, but if you find a cell phone in the grocery store and you don't intend on stealing it, why wouldn't you just give it to customer service at the front instead of keeping it and trying to deal with it yourself?
I don't know why she decided to take matters into her own hand but she did. And got some stranger man (probs her hubby) to call Catherine's father. Who then emailed Catherine telling Catherine to 'call this man- he has your phone.' Thanks Mr. Collison.
Catherine found me and used my phone to contact this random dude who has her phone and we have no idea who he is. And being the bright, single girl that she is, she agrees to go to his house to pick it up (so as not to inconvenience him apparently).
Girl-101 clearly teaches us to NEVER DO THAT! So Catherine, then asked me to go with her, and I do because I don't want her to die alone and if I die, I have Jesus so it'll be ok for me. But before we left, I sent out a text to 6 people saying, 'Going to retrieve Catherine's phone at a strange man's house so if we're human trafficked, you'll know why. Here's the address....'
You know who is a good ICE (In Case of Emergency) contact when they respond quickly and in a caring manner. Such as 'hahahaha' or 'best.text.ever.'
When we got to the house, we get out. The house is completely dark while all the neighboring houses in the development are lit up, thus giving off this eery feeling. As we get out of the car, I grab a pen to have, just in case, to stab him if he does something. I have my phone unlocked and ready to dial when Catherine rings the doorbell.
The man with the phone comes to the door and opens it, immediately handing her the phone. And says 'Here ya go!' No big deal. And then it happens.
The cutest and friendliest little terrier came running out of the house, barking and greeting us! And by terrier, I mean he looked like Wishbone. Any sketchy or uneasy feeling I had completely faded with the interaction of this dog and watching this dog sniff Catherine's butt. Sure, having a dog would have been a good ploy to distract us girls from the danger at hand but the niceness of the dog surely proved the intentions of the man and his inward spirit, I'm positive of it. Usually mean people have crazy animals and this dog was not crazy.
I was very sad to go. Happy that I was not raped or attacked or abused and happy that we got Catherine's phone back all nice a safely. But sad to leave the dog behind. I miss animals and pets. Oh well.
My advice for the future and all you readers is: don't take home lost phones from the grocery store but leave them at the store with the employees and don't meet strange men at their house to retrieve your phone, instead meet at a Wawa or Starbucks or some other public area. And Wishbone dogs are distracting, beware.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
My Life in 304A
Hello, my name is Joe and this is the first story I’ve written down about my infamous roommate during my freshman year of college. He is already famous among friends who have heard these stories, I hope you enjoy!
I’d like to start off with some background info, during my freshman year (2009-2010) I live in the George Read North dormitory, suite number 304a. The room was a forced triple, which means there were three people in a room that was meant for two. One of my roommates was named Xiaoke, and was an exchange student from China. My other roommate was named DJ, and this blog is dedicated to him.
When I first got my room assignment in the summer and read the names Xiaoke Liu and David Levine, I thought I might have recognized the name David Levine, but didn’t think twice about it. Later that day I received a slightly odd Facebook message from David that informed me that we were in the first grade together and I once attended his star wars episode 1 birthday party. He also said that he now went by the name of DJ rather than David. He gave me a complete history of the daycare we attended together and why it shut down, which was slightly odd but I didn’t mind. I was glad that I knew someone going into college.
The day I moved into room 304a it became obvious that I was in for a very interesting living experience with DJ. As soon as I walked the room he yells “Hi!! I’m DJ!!!” In his very high pitched Erkel sounding voice. I introduced myself and asked him why he now went by DJ instead of his name (His full name is David James Levine, hence the DJ). He responded very energetically saying “Well, I’ve been called David my WHOLE LIFE!!!! And I’m sick of it, it’s been 20 years.” I was tempted to taunt him and say I had been called Joe my whole life, because that’s my name! But I refrained because I wasn’t sure he could pick up on any sarcasm and didn’t want to offend him. As the day proceeded he told me that he was obsessed with history, as he unpacked 50 history documentaries and hung up posters of Abraham Lincoln and battleships, battle descriptions, etc.
While there are many other small details and stories I could share to illustrate DJ’s quirkiness and complete lack of common sense, I will instead share one of the first “major” DJ stories. It was a few weeks after school had started and I was already annoyed by DJ’s constant talking and asking me every detail of my life and need to know where I was going and what I was going to do every minute of the day. I still didn’t quite know the extent of his OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). I had just returned from my only class of the day to George Read with my friend Kyle who lived 2 floors above me, we decided to do HW in the lounge next to my room so Kyle went to get his books in his room and I went to get mine.
When I entered the room I realized that for the first time since I had live there, DJ was not present. I at once decided to take a nap since I had not slept much lately because DJ would stay up very late and would talk to me as I was trying to sleep, and was always loud no matter what. I climbed into my top bunk, which was over Xiaoke’s bed, with DJ’s bed being on the opposite side of the room from our beds.
In my excitement to take a nap, I forgot to inform Kyle that I would not be studying in the lounge with him. So 10 minutes later Kyle walked into my room to see where I was and I said he could just study in my room while I took a nap. He sat at my desk, but later on asked if he could sit on DJ’s bed, and I didn’t see why not so I said sure but told him not to move anything on the bed and to lock the door and to hop off the bed if anyone was unlocking the door.
About 20 minutes later I heard the door unlocking and Kyle jumped off of DJ’s bed, but it turned out to be Xiaoke instead of DJ. After that the door remained unlocked. I fell asleep for at least an hour after that and when I woke up I found no one in the room and saw that the room had become rather messy, and that DJ’s blanket, pillow, and stuffed bear whose name is Obe and who DJ says he has been inseparable from since birth, were all moved to the bottom of his bed.
A few minutes later I heard the door opening and I looked up and saw DJ entering, he took 2 steps into the room yelling “Hey, what’s up-“ then he stopped and gasped loudly and backed up against the wall in utter shock and despair. I was still half asleep at this point and told him that Kyle had only sat on the edge of his bed and put his things at the bottom so it wouldn’t get messed up. I put my head back down and watched DJ scanning his bed with his hands in the air, slightly over his head with his fingers wiggly nervously. All of the sudden I hear an unbelievably distressed voice scream “WHERE’S OBE?!?!?!” I responded in a slightly annoyed tone telling him it was at the end of the bed. He then screams “He’s in the TRASH!!!” It turns out that the stuffed bear, Obe, had fallen off the end of the bed and into the trash.
At this point Kyle casually walked back into the room and said “oh I was sitting on the edge of your bed man” while DJ just stared at him with the most concerned face. I then left the room, but Kyle later informed me that DJ changed all of his sheets and looked through all of his things numerous times. DJ later came into the lounge where I was and told me that he was “a very sentimental man about his space” and continued to explain while he flipped out, using the word sentimental numerous times, none of which made any sense. I later corrected him and suggested the word personal instead of sentimental, while he just stared at me in a very confused way.
That was all for this particular day. This has been just a very small story to introduce the character of DJ which can never be fully explained or understood unless you have spent some time with the man, the Legend of DJ Levine. I hope you enjoyed it!
I’d like to start off with some background info, during my freshman year (2009-2010) I live in the George Read North dormitory, suite number 304a. The room was a forced triple, which means there were three people in a room that was meant for two. One of my roommates was named Xiaoke, and was an exchange student from China. My other roommate was named DJ, and this blog is dedicated to him.
When I first got my room assignment in the summer and read the names Xiaoke Liu and David Levine, I thought I might have recognized the name David Levine, but didn’t think twice about it. Later that day I received a slightly odd Facebook message from David that informed me that we were in the first grade together and I once attended his star wars episode 1 birthday party. He also said that he now went by the name of DJ rather than David. He gave me a complete history of the daycare we attended together and why it shut down, which was slightly odd but I didn’t mind. I was glad that I knew someone going into college.
The day I moved into room 304a it became obvious that I was in for a very interesting living experience with DJ. As soon as I walked the room he yells “Hi!! I’m DJ!!!” In his very high pitched Erkel sounding voice. I introduced myself and asked him why he now went by DJ instead of his name (His full name is David James Levine, hence the DJ). He responded very energetically saying “Well, I’ve been called David my WHOLE LIFE!!!! And I’m sick of it, it’s been 20 years.” I was tempted to taunt him and say I had been called Joe my whole life, because that’s my name! But I refrained because I wasn’t sure he could pick up on any sarcasm and didn’t want to offend him. As the day proceeded he told me that he was obsessed with history, as he unpacked 50 history documentaries and hung up posters of Abraham Lincoln and battleships, battle descriptions, etc.
While there are many other small details and stories I could share to illustrate DJ’s quirkiness and complete lack of common sense, I will instead share one of the first “major” DJ stories. It was a few weeks after school had started and I was already annoyed by DJ’s constant talking and asking me every detail of my life and need to know where I was going and what I was going to do every minute of the day. I still didn’t quite know the extent of his OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). I had just returned from my only class of the day to George Read with my friend Kyle who lived 2 floors above me, we decided to do HW in the lounge next to my room so Kyle went to get his books in his room and I went to get mine.
When I entered the room I realized that for the first time since I had live there, DJ was not present. I at once decided to take a nap since I had not slept much lately because DJ would stay up very late and would talk to me as I was trying to sleep, and was always loud no matter what. I climbed into my top bunk, which was over Xiaoke’s bed, with DJ’s bed being on the opposite side of the room from our beds.
In my excitement to take a nap, I forgot to inform Kyle that I would not be studying in the lounge with him. So 10 minutes later Kyle walked into my room to see where I was and I said he could just study in my room while I took a nap. He sat at my desk, but later on asked if he could sit on DJ’s bed, and I didn’t see why not so I said sure but told him not to move anything on the bed and to lock the door and to hop off the bed if anyone was unlocking the door.
About 20 minutes later I heard the door unlocking and Kyle jumped off of DJ’s bed, but it turned out to be Xiaoke instead of DJ. After that the door remained unlocked. I fell asleep for at least an hour after that and when I woke up I found no one in the room and saw that the room had become rather messy, and that DJ’s blanket, pillow, and stuffed bear whose name is Obe and who DJ says he has been inseparable from since birth, were all moved to the bottom of his bed.
A few minutes later I heard the door opening and I looked up and saw DJ entering, he took 2 steps into the room yelling “Hey, what’s up-“ then he stopped and gasped loudly and backed up against the wall in utter shock and despair. I was still half asleep at this point and told him that Kyle had only sat on the edge of his bed and put his things at the bottom so it wouldn’t get messed up. I put my head back down and watched DJ scanning his bed with his hands in the air, slightly over his head with his fingers wiggly nervously. All of the sudden I hear an unbelievably distressed voice scream “WHERE’S OBE?!?!?!” I responded in a slightly annoyed tone telling him it was at the end of the bed. He then screams “He’s in the TRASH!!!” It turns out that the stuffed bear, Obe, had fallen off the end of the bed and into the trash.
At this point Kyle casually walked back into the room and said “oh I was sitting on the edge of your bed man” while DJ just stared at him with the most concerned face. I then left the room, but Kyle later informed me that DJ changed all of his sheets and looked through all of his things numerous times. DJ later came into the lounge where I was and told me that he was “a very sentimental man about his space” and continued to explain while he flipped out, using the word sentimental numerous times, none of which made any sense. I later corrected him and suggested the word personal instead of sentimental, while he just stared at me in a very confused way.
That was all for this particular day. This has been just a very small story to introduce the character of DJ which can never be fully explained or understood unless you have spent some time with the man, the Legend of DJ Levine. I hope you enjoyed it!
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Waiter Boy
For the record, before I begin, I want to say that I am breaking out the reserves on this one. This happened in the fall of my sophomore year at UD—not recently sorry. But I feel like I must tell this story.
Once upon a time, my foster brother married this girl that my family didn’t know very well- like at all. This girl had a daughter. A nice girl, decently well behaved but at that age that I find annoying. So here my family and I are trying to adjust to the fact that I now have a new niece who isn’t a baby but a 7 year old. It was a little awkward at first, not gonna lie. I do think that over time though, we’ve adjusted nicely and love her to death. But yea… so we knew about her when they got married and life was fine.
Then, one day my dad drives me back to school after spending a weekend at home. We stop at this restaurant, a nice one that old people like in Cecil County called Wesley’s. They serve very good dinners and I was excited for seafood- until we are seated and the waiter comes out.
This guy must have been mid-to-late twenties- maybe the age of my brother or a little older. As he hands us the menus and asks what we want to drink, he stares at me very oddly. In fact, I was quite uncomfortable. And then he left and brings us our drinks and we order.
Of course, my father would order the salad bar and walk away from me leaving me all by myself at the table. As soon as my dad walks over to get his food, the waiter (his name was Blake) is magically by my side kneeling down next to me to talk to me. He asked me if we had ever met before. When I said ‘nope’ he said, ‘Hmmm… I feel like I have met you before. School maybe? Do you come here a lot??’ ‘Nope.’ ‘That’s odd. Oh well.’ And then he walks away because my father was done filling his plate and was coming back to the table. My father of course was completely oblivious to this whole interaction.
Through dinner, Blake STILL kept looking at me funny. As I’m distracted by this awkward waiter (who wasn’t very attractive and kinda balding at a young age), I am informed by my father that not only do I have another step-niece that my new sister-in-law had (before she married my foster brother) BUT apparently there is another step-niece MY OWN AGE!! Needless to say, that was a bomb dropped on me and it took me off-guard and took me a very long time to comprehend and accept this fact. I was very disheveled.
As we get up to leave, I’m still processing how crazy my family is so of course I would have trouble getting my scarf and jacket on because I just learned I had a niece that was my age. My dad wasn’t paying any attention to me (bless his heart, he’s an old man engineer) and started walking out the door leaving me behind in the dining room. All of a sudden, good ‘ole Blake was by my side, hands me a card and says, ‘If you ever want to get together or give me a call, here’s my number.’
Greatttt. I WOULD have a waiter give me his number when I’m eating dinner with my 66 year old FATHER! To all you guys out there: DO NOT DO THAT! If he had turned around then who knows what type of situation would have occurred and how much harassment I would have gotten from my family for the rest of my life.
Also on my mind: all I said was, ‘Thank you’ as meekly as I could and sprinted out of there. I need more advice on how to reject guys or have fun, witty comments. (Maybe I should buy that book The Art of Rejection, bahaha!) My fun, witty comments are only ever thought of for other people’s situations or after the fact. So if any of you girls out there have good comebacks to when awkward guys hand you their number, I’d love to hear them.
Guys- let’s recap because you all always need help. Things to consider:
1-Don’t tell a girl you might have met her but can’t figure it out. It is insulting to the girl if you have met her and you don’t remember her and if you haven’t met her, now that’s just awkward if you can’t play it down (and this guy couldn’t). Or at least be cool about it and don’t stare at a girl the entire time she’s eating with her father.
2- Don’t give a girl your number when she’s eating with her father. That’s just weird.
3- When you work at a restaurant that serves the older generation, look at my face. I know that it is not common when young people don’t go to the bar but to the dining room, but seriously, that’s gross. You serve my grandparents and parents too! I want respect!
That’s all I got. Hopefully this story will tide you over until my next awkward encounter. Otherwise I may have to go back to my old stories again and pick out a good one.
PS- Apparently people didn't realize that coupon boy (last blog entry) was Asian. I'm also told that his race makes the story all that more amusing. Not sure how I feel about that.
Once upon a time, my foster brother married this girl that my family didn’t know very well- like at all. This girl had a daughter. A nice girl, decently well behaved but at that age that I find annoying. So here my family and I are trying to adjust to the fact that I now have a new niece who isn’t a baby but a 7 year old. It was a little awkward at first, not gonna lie. I do think that over time though, we’ve adjusted nicely and love her to death. But yea… so we knew about her when they got married and life was fine.
Then, one day my dad drives me back to school after spending a weekend at home. We stop at this restaurant, a nice one that old people like in Cecil County called Wesley’s. They serve very good dinners and I was excited for seafood- until we are seated and the waiter comes out.
This guy must have been mid-to-late twenties- maybe the age of my brother or a little older. As he hands us the menus and asks what we want to drink, he stares at me very oddly. In fact, I was quite uncomfortable. And then he left and brings us our drinks and we order.
Of course, my father would order the salad bar and walk away from me leaving me all by myself at the table. As soon as my dad walks over to get his food, the waiter (his name was Blake) is magically by my side kneeling down next to me to talk to me. He asked me if we had ever met before. When I said ‘nope’ he said, ‘Hmmm… I feel like I have met you before. School maybe? Do you come here a lot??’ ‘Nope.’ ‘That’s odd. Oh well.’ And then he walks away because my father was done filling his plate and was coming back to the table. My father of course was completely oblivious to this whole interaction.
Through dinner, Blake STILL kept looking at me funny. As I’m distracted by this awkward waiter (who wasn’t very attractive and kinda balding at a young age), I am informed by my father that not only do I have another step-niece that my new sister-in-law had (before she married my foster brother) BUT apparently there is another step-niece MY OWN AGE!! Needless to say, that was a bomb dropped on me and it took me off-guard and took me a very long time to comprehend and accept this fact. I was very disheveled.
As we get up to leave, I’m still processing how crazy my family is so of course I would have trouble getting my scarf and jacket on because I just learned I had a niece that was my age. My dad wasn’t paying any attention to me (bless his heart, he’s an old man engineer) and started walking out the door leaving me behind in the dining room. All of a sudden, good ‘ole Blake was by my side, hands me a card and says, ‘If you ever want to get together or give me a call, here’s my number.’
Greatttt. I WOULD have a waiter give me his number when I’m eating dinner with my 66 year old FATHER! To all you guys out there: DO NOT DO THAT! If he had turned around then who knows what type of situation would have occurred and how much harassment I would have gotten from my family for the rest of my life.
Also on my mind: all I said was, ‘Thank you’ as meekly as I could and sprinted out of there. I need more advice on how to reject guys or have fun, witty comments. (Maybe I should buy that book The Art of Rejection, bahaha!) My fun, witty comments are only ever thought of for other people’s situations or after the fact. So if any of you girls out there have good comebacks to when awkward guys hand you their number, I’d love to hear them.
Guys- let’s recap because you all always need help. Things to consider:
1-Don’t tell a girl you might have met her but can’t figure it out. It is insulting to the girl if you have met her and you don’t remember her and if you haven’t met her, now that’s just awkward if you can’t play it down (and this guy couldn’t). Or at least be cool about it and don’t stare at a girl the entire time she’s eating with her father.
2- Don’t give a girl your number when she’s eating with her father. That’s just weird.
3- When you work at a restaurant that serves the older generation, look at my face. I know that it is not common when young people don’t go to the bar but to the dining room, but seriously, that’s gross. You serve my grandparents and parents too! I want respect!
That’s all I got. Hopefully this story will tide you over until my next awkward encounter. Otherwise I may have to go back to my old stories again and pick out a good one.
PS- Apparently people didn't realize that coupon boy (last blog entry) was Asian. I'm also told that his race makes the story all that more amusing. Not sure how I feel about that.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Coupons
I thought that I was doing well on the whole not-having-attracted-any-creepy-or-socially-awkward-boys lately. False. My creeper magnet still works.
For those of you who don't know, I have this tendency of attracting very awkward boys or at least making shy boys very awkwardly uncomfortable in my presence (and they don't embrace their awkwardness like they should). No one quite understands this phenomenon and if you have a good explanation outside of pheromones, do tell me (privately, please lol).
On Sunday, I was in church and met this quiet dude with my other guy friend. Quiet dude was new in town and wanted to invite us over to his house for dinner that night because he was new and needed friends.
My guy friend and I decide, 'sure why not' and we go to his house for dinner that evening. The poor boy was very nervous about serving us dinner and kept explaining what everything was and if we didn't like it then it was ok, etc. After dinner, we sit and chillax for a bit and then get up to leave. In which he stops us and asks, "Are you two dating? I hear that it usually is not normal for a guy and girl to just 'hang out' without dating or being interested in them."
Um- what? It took all the will-power I had to not double-over in laughter. First of all, no- I'm definitely not dating him. Second, this is me: I'm always in the friend zone with dudes. C'mon now- that's my rep as Cara the Face. But seriously, I can't decide if I admire this guy's honesty and bluntness (as that honestly does make life so much easier) or if I should tell him that most people don't ask straight up but instead stalk and observe in various ways first so they don't create awkward situations between the couple. Lol.
So yea, I was already amused by this kid. The next evening, I get home from work and receive 3 messages from quiet dude via Facebook. None of them are very relevant to this story but one is very entertaining but I won't embarrass this kid too much on here but it involves a beaver-groundhog beast attacking a car muffler. Anyhoo- as soon as I logged onto facebook, he started chatting me up. Mind you, I was also on the phone with my mother and wasn't paying attention that much. The next thing I realize in my conversation with him I read (while still on the phone) 'If you're interested, I have a coupon for a 2 for 1 lunch or dinner at Matilda's.'
Whoa. Whoa! There are two ways I could interpret this. 1- He has a coupon he's trying to get rid of. 2- He was asking me out. What is the safest way to play down any awkwardness? This way, or so I thought: 'No thanks- I never go to that restaurant so it'll go to waste if you give it to me.' Bahaha- a terrible way to play naive but I did it. I was so proud of myself for totally avoiding any awkward situations because after all it wasn't even in person but via Facebook and I was saving him from embarrassment by pretending it wasn't him trying to ask me out! (Side note: Every person I've talked to has said it was definitely him trying to ask me out.)
His response to my rejection of the coupon was, "Thank you for your honesty."
......
What are some good responses for me to say to that last comment of his? Um, 'You're welcome!' or 'Absolutely!' or 'Anytime!' ?
Yea. I can't think of anything and definitely couldn't at that moment. I don't even remember what I did or how I tried to change the subject back to the pretend beaver and burning mufflers. But I did. And I was trying not to die laughing inside while still talking to my mother or to give anything away to what was going on around me. (She's very old so she wouldn't understand the ways of the world of dating and relationships of this generation.)
Poor guy. I do feel sorry for him. And because of my pity for him and all shy, awkward boys, I am going to start compiling a list to send to all the guys at UD on what not to do to get a girl on a date. One of them includes: Don't use a coupon as a way to get a girl to a restaurant for two reasons. 1- She can interpret that in different ways and pretend it's not a date all too easily and then the whole situation will be awkward. 2- She will think you're cheap. Personally, I am pro-coupons usually. Just not as the way to get the girl to come out with you. But guys, do feel free to use coupons to pay for things. I fully support coupons.
Also- for your entertainment I am also compiling a list for you of all my creepers. Enjoy the mystery if you don't know the stories behind their names but they go by code names to save their humility.
1- Opera boy
2- Bowling boy
3- Composites Boy
4- Coupon Boy
5- Farm Fair/ Wrestling boy
6- Ice Cream boy
7- Frenchman
And... I can't think of the others. But I will. Don't worry.
For those of you who don't know, I have this tendency of attracting very awkward boys or at least making shy boys very awkwardly uncomfortable in my presence (and they don't embrace their awkwardness like they should). No one quite understands this phenomenon and if you have a good explanation outside of pheromones, do tell me (privately, please lol).
On Sunday, I was in church and met this quiet dude with my other guy friend. Quiet dude was new in town and wanted to invite us over to his house for dinner that night because he was new and needed friends.
My guy friend and I decide, 'sure why not' and we go to his house for dinner that evening. The poor boy was very nervous about serving us dinner and kept explaining what everything was and if we didn't like it then it was ok, etc. After dinner, we sit and chillax for a bit and then get up to leave. In which he stops us and asks, "Are you two dating? I hear that it usually is not normal for a guy and girl to just 'hang out' without dating or being interested in them."
Um- what? It took all the will-power I had to not double-over in laughter. First of all, no- I'm definitely not dating him. Second, this is me: I'm always in the friend zone with dudes. C'mon now- that's my rep as Cara the Face. But seriously, I can't decide if I admire this guy's honesty and bluntness (as that honestly does make life so much easier) or if I should tell him that most people don't ask straight up but instead stalk and observe in various ways first so they don't create awkward situations between the couple. Lol.
So yea, I was already amused by this kid. The next evening, I get home from work and receive 3 messages from quiet dude via Facebook. None of them are very relevant to this story but one is very entertaining but I won't embarrass this kid too much on here but it involves a beaver-groundhog beast attacking a car muffler. Anyhoo- as soon as I logged onto facebook, he started chatting me up. Mind you, I was also on the phone with my mother and wasn't paying attention that much. The next thing I realize in my conversation with him I read (while still on the phone) 'If you're interested, I have a coupon for a 2 for 1 lunch or dinner at Matilda's.'
Whoa. Whoa! There are two ways I could interpret this. 1- He has a coupon he's trying to get rid of. 2- He was asking me out. What is the safest way to play down any awkwardness? This way, or so I thought: 'No thanks- I never go to that restaurant so it'll go to waste if you give it to me.' Bahaha- a terrible way to play naive but I did it. I was so proud of myself for totally avoiding any awkward situations because after all it wasn't even in person but via Facebook and I was saving him from embarrassment by pretending it wasn't him trying to ask me out! (Side note: Every person I've talked to has said it was definitely him trying to ask me out.)
His response to my rejection of the coupon was, "Thank you for your honesty."
......
What are some good responses for me to say to that last comment of his? Um, 'You're welcome!' or 'Absolutely!' or 'Anytime!' ?
Yea. I can't think of anything and definitely couldn't at that moment. I don't even remember what I did or how I tried to change the subject back to the pretend beaver and burning mufflers. But I did. And I was trying not to die laughing inside while still talking to my mother or to give anything away to what was going on around me. (She's very old so she wouldn't understand the ways of the world of dating and relationships of this generation.)
Poor guy. I do feel sorry for him. And because of my pity for him and all shy, awkward boys, I am going to start compiling a list to send to all the guys at UD on what not to do to get a girl on a date. One of them includes: Don't use a coupon as a way to get a girl to a restaurant for two reasons. 1- She can interpret that in different ways and pretend it's not a date all too easily and then the whole situation will be awkward. 2- She will think you're cheap. Personally, I am pro-coupons usually. Just not as the way to get the girl to come out with you. But guys, do feel free to use coupons to pay for things. I fully support coupons.
Also- for your entertainment I am also compiling a list for you of all my creepers. Enjoy the mystery if you don't know the stories behind their names but they go by code names to save their humility.
1- Opera boy
2- Bowling boy
3- Composites Boy
4- Coupon Boy
5- Farm Fair/ Wrestling boy
6- Ice Cream boy
7- Frenchman
And... I can't think of the others. But I will. Don't worry.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Picked up by Bronco Mike
Saturday night was supposed to be a chill night. And I guess in theory, it still kinda was. Catherine's guy friends decided to pregame before going out to the bars at our house (not much harm in that) and then left. I refused to go out with them (much to their false dismay, lol) due to my 'fun' from Friday night. So they left and I went to bed.
If I was smart that would be where the story had ended. But I wasn't smart because I forgot to lock my bedroom door. At 1:45, I was very abruptly awoken by Bronco Mike in my room trying to PICK ME UP while I was sleeping in my bed curled up in my sheets. And he tried to take me out of my room but was too drunk to lift me and walk simultaneously (such a blessing!). Being picked up by a drunk dude sure does wake you up shrieking, I promise you that (and I dont scream that much either). After I screamed and he put me down he said, 'But CARA-- It's so hot in here. Come downstairs with us! Come now!! It's so much cooler on the porch. Pleeeeeeassssee???????'
Sigh. To get him out of my room, I went downstairs where one of the boys (I forget which one), saw me, asked if he woke me up and then punched Mike (who was at that moment poking me repeatedly). The other guys said that they would control him and that I could go to bed. (Catherine, of course, was not home.) So I went upstairs for about 5 minutes to go back to sleep.
Which is then when I was woken up AGAIN. By the vuvuzella. (Sidenote: A vuvuzella is probs the third worst thing ever for me to wake up to. It's almost as bad as being woken up by a man trying to pick you up or by guys bleeding outside of your door). I went storming down the stairs, screamed at them to shut up, demanded them hand me the instrument, found all the iPods so they wouldn't start blasting the stereo and went back upstairs to bed. (I think this is when I texted Catherine saying the boys were back.)
Ten minutes later, I was woken up the third time by Bronco Mike. He tried coming in to visit me again but since my door was locked, he couldn't enter. Therefore, he desperately stood there outside of my door and pounded on it saying, 'CARA! CAAAARAAA! Cara! CARA! Open the door! OPEN! PLEASE??? Be my friend! CARA!' (At least this night he could remember my name unlike the first time I encountered him.) I got annoyed so I opened up. What did I open up the door to see??? Mike happily chewing away on a box of broccoli. Oh wait, correction: FROZEN BROCCOLI.
Yes, he was eating broccoli that came straight out of the freezer. I glared at him and asked him if he had asked to eat it. Like so many of the four year olds I have instructed, he looked guiltily away and said, 'No. Whose is this?' It was mine. Or was mine until he found it. His response, 'Oooooh ahhaahahah. Can I eat it, PLEEEEASSSSE?!?!' My response was, 'Isn't it a bit late for you to be asking me? Finish it and then repay me later.'
He was so excited he said, 'YAY! I'll give you a dollar later, I PROMISE! THANKS CARA!' And then frolicked down the stairs. I followed, saw that Catherine was back, and rolled my eyes at her. After that, I think I tried to stay awake for a bit longer but got so freaked out when they were kicking a soccer ball around that I decided I was just going to go to bed and give up trying to save the house.
Upstairs, I looked out my window and noticed that a police car was parked out on the street right in front of our house. The only thing I did was see it, lock my door, turn off my lights and pray that it wasn't actually there for our house. (Later, I found out it wasn't. There was a DUI and that's why he was out there. Bronco Mike also apparently started saying, 'FRONT ROW SEATS!! FRONT ROW SEATS!' all enthusiastically and at that point everyone freaked out at him and tried to get him inside. Not sure what happened after because I fell asleep.
I did learn though that most guys tend to freak out when a girl tells them that they were woken up the night before by a drunk guy trying to carry her out of her bed. So I may be more careful next time when telling one of these stories. Especially to public safety friends. Because then they look at me funny.
Moral of the story, kids: Lock your doors, hide your broccoli and your vuvuzellas and all will be fine in the morning.
If I was smart that would be where the story had ended. But I wasn't smart because I forgot to lock my bedroom door. At 1:45, I was very abruptly awoken by Bronco Mike in my room trying to PICK ME UP while I was sleeping in my bed curled up in my sheets. And he tried to take me out of my room but was too drunk to lift me and walk simultaneously (such a blessing!). Being picked up by a drunk dude sure does wake you up shrieking, I promise you that (and I dont scream that much either). After I screamed and he put me down he said, 'But CARA-- It's so hot in here. Come downstairs with us! Come now!! It's so much cooler on the porch. Pleeeeeeassssee???????'
Sigh. To get him out of my room, I went downstairs where one of the boys (I forget which one), saw me, asked if he woke me up and then punched Mike (who was at that moment poking me repeatedly). The other guys said that they would control him and that I could go to bed. (Catherine, of course, was not home.) So I went upstairs for about 5 minutes to go back to sleep.
Which is then when I was woken up AGAIN. By the vuvuzella. (Sidenote: A vuvuzella is probs the third worst thing ever for me to wake up to. It's almost as bad as being woken up by a man trying to pick you up or by guys bleeding outside of your door). I went storming down the stairs, screamed at them to shut up, demanded them hand me the instrument, found all the iPods so they wouldn't start blasting the stereo and went back upstairs to bed. (I think this is when I texted Catherine saying the boys were back.)
Ten minutes later, I was woken up the third time by Bronco Mike. He tried coming in to visit me again but since my door was locked, he couldn't enter. Therefore, he desperately stood there outside of my door and pounded on it saying, 'CARA! CAAAARAAA! Cara! CARA! Open the door! OPEN! PLEASE??? Be my friend! CARA!' (At least this night he could remember my name unlike the first time I encountered him.) I got annoyed so I opened up. What did I open up the door to see??? Mike happily chewing away on a box of broccoli. Oh wait, correction: FROZEN BROCCOLI.
Yes, he was eating broccoli that came straight out of the freezer. I glared at him and asked him if he had asked to eat it. Like so many of the four year olds I have instructed, he looked guiltily away and said, 'No. Whose is this?' It was mine. Or was mine until he found it. His response, 'Oooooh ahhaahahah. Can I eat it, PLEEEEASSSSE?!?!' My response was, 'Isn't it a bit late for you to be asking me? Finish it and then repay me later.'
He was so excited he said, 'YAY! I'll give you a dollar later, I PROMISE! THANKS CARA!' And then frolicked down the stairs. I followed, saw that Catherine was back, and rolled my eyes at her. After that, I think I tried to stay awake for a bit longer but got so freaked out when they were kicking a soccer ball around that I decided I was just going to go to bed and give up trying to save the house.
Upstairs, I looked out my window and noticed that a police car was parked out on the street right in front of our house. The only thing I did was see it, lock my door, turn off my lights and pray that it wasn't actually there for our house. (Later, I found out it wasn't. There was a DUI and that's why he was out there. Bronco Mike also apparently started saying, 'FRONT ROW SEATS!! FRONT ROW SEATS!' all enthusiastically and at that point everyone freaked out at him and tried to get him inside. Not sure what happened after because I fell asleep.
I did learn though that most guys tend to freak out when a girl tells them that they were woken up the night before by a drunk guy trying to carry her out of her bed. So I may be more careful next time when telling one of these stories. Especially to public safety friends. Because then they look at me funny.
Moral of the story, kids: Lock your doors, hide your broccoli and your vuvuzellas and all will be fine in the morning.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Picking up Strangers from Airports
I had to pick up John from the airport last Saturday (aka California kid for those of you who don’t know) and didn’t have any info besides his name, flight number and airline. And by flight number I mean a random grouping of four numbers that didn’t come close to anything on the screen. And by airline, that didn’t matter since the numbers were wrong and since his baggage claim didn’t even use the correct airline’s area. (I’m still mad about that, by the way.) Anyhoo- I made a fun sign that said ‘John Swanson’ on it to stand with all the cab drivers and people with the signs that are hired to pick up people so that I could find him. Well, apparently signs are only common in developing countries and other airports that are not the Philadelphia International Airport. In other words, I couldn’t bring myself to hold up a sign since no one else was and embarrass myself publicly in a large group of people (since I like to only embarrass myself multiple times in smaller groups of people). So I did the only other thing I could: walk up to strangers and ask them if they were named John.
Yes. I really did that. The first guy I walked up to was a young, college-age looking guy so I asked him ‘Are you John?’ because at that point, that was the only thing I could do since Kate is extremely slow at responding to my panicked calls. This dude’s response was, ‘No but I could be a John. Wanna take me home please?’… Not what I wanted to hear when in search for the Lost John of Cal Poly. Thanks random strange man for creeping on me. On the good side, the next guy I went up to asking if they were John was actually John. Yay!!!!
Ooh- also, Catherine and her little brother were in the parked car waiting for me to find this kid since we had just come back from Hershey Park (poor John- we were so tired and gross after being out in the sun all day, I feel sorry for him meeting us that way). Chaz (Catherine’s little brother) received a text from their mother asking them where they were (since we kind of forgot to tell both Chaz and the parents where we were going). So they texted back, ‘Philadelphia Int'l airport. Vegas here we come!!!’ Their mom was like, ‘No really, where are you?’ And they wrote, ‘The airport.’ Later when asked about why they were there Chaz told her that we had to pick up Catherine’s boyfriend from California- which is amusing since the next weekend Catherine went to San Francisco to visit her friend which so conveniently is where John flew out of. Needless to say, Catherine had a lot of explaining to do later.
So the next time you see Catherine, please ask her how her boyfriend is doing. kthxbai.
Yes. I really did that. The first guy I walked up to was a young, college-age looking guy so I asked him ‘Are you John?’ because at that point, that was the only thing I could do since Kate is extremely slow at responding to my panicked calls. This dude’s response was, ‘No but I could be a John. Wanna take me home please?’… Not what I wanted to hear when in search for the Lost John of Cal Poly. Thanks random strange man for creeping on me. On the good side, the next guy I went up to asking if they were John was actually John. Yay!!!!
Ooh- also, Catherine and her little brother were in the parked car waiting for me to find this kid since we had just come back from Hershey Park (poor John- we were so tired and gross after being out in the sun all day, I feel sorry for him meeting us that way). Chaz (Catherine’s little brother) received a text from their mother asking them where they were (since we kind of forgot to tell both Chaz and the parents where we were going). So they texted back, ‘Philadelphia Int'l airport. Vegas here we come!!!’ Their mom was like, ‘No really, where are you?’ And they wrote, ‘The airport.’ Later when asked about why they were there Chaz told her that we had to pick up Catherine’s boyfriend from California- which is amusing since the next weekend Catherine went to San Francisco to visit her friend which so conveniently is where John flew out of. Needless to say, Catherine had a lot of explaining to do later.
So the next time you see Catherine, please ask her how her boyfriend is doing. kthxbai.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
The New Guy
For some reason, this summer is the season of trying to matchmake Cara Watson. For example, my boss told me that she thought I should meet her 20 yr old brother and proceeded to ramble about how she should try hooking us up because she didn’t like his girlfriend because ‘that girl is too goth for him.’ When I convinced her that it probably wasn’t a good idea to meddle in his life, she agreed and let it go. Or so I thought but then she mentioned that the new guy at work was super cute. [Mental note to all young, single people: when someone you don’t know very well mentions how cute a boy (or girl) is, always watch out. They are trying to instigate something.] My boss wouldn’t drop it until I finally mentioned that yes, the new guy is quite a good looker (think Josh Groban hair with a super hot body AND a brain because, after all, he is a chemical engineer. Also tangent: I'm pretty sure that Croda has a requirement that all their male engineers must be easy on the eyes).
I managed to escape my boss after I finally admitted how cute the new guy is (which prompted a few smug looks from her) and hurried back to my office. Three hours later, Kristina (my boss) comes prancing into my office and told me to go entertain the new guy for an hour because he had nothing to do. And I look at her and said, ‘well, what am I supposed to do? I’m bored here all the time too!’ Her response: ‘I don’t know. Show him the files on our computer or something. Just keep him not bored.’ and then walks away. Sounds fishy, doesn’t it?
In order to get to his office, you have to walk through the purchasing office which consists of pretty much the only women on the site and they like to talk. So awkwardly, I weave in and out of them trying to get to his office only to find that he wasn’t there. I turn around to leave and just forget about this new assignment when my boss just happened to be in the doorway. She ordered me to leave a note for him to come find me. Seriously, she really did.
Me being insanely ADHD, grabbed three of his dry erase markers and wrote, ‘I was ordered to come here and un-bored you for an hour but you aren’t here. But if and when you do get bored, come find me in my office and I’ll attempt to un-bored you.’ Yes. I did write that. I don’t know what possessed me since clearly that is not a very professional note. On top of that, since he had never been to my office before I decided to draw him a map of the building and where his office was (with a ‘You are Here’ star) and where my office was (even though it seriously is just around the corner).
Fifteen minutes later, he shows up in my office grinning and said ‘I got your note….’ Yeaaaa. Let me just say that after leaving notes like that, it is very uncomfortably awkward starting a conversation. But I survived. Barely. I definitely found it hard to entertain him for more than fifteen minutes. But I let him play with Aspen and find all of our files on the servers.
The next day was Friday which means that I do the hazardous waste audit and my team orders lunch together. Go figure I forget that I don’t have cash on me and as I started to say, ‘Go order without me and I’ll just head to Wawa to get something later,’ Mr. New Guy hands the guy a twenty and says that he can cover me until later which naturally makes everyone stare at me waiting for my reaction with eyebrows raised and smug looks on their faces. I’m telling you- the people I work with need more stuff to do because clearly they aren’t busy enough to stop gossiping. And right after he pays, I’m told to go with him and my matchmaking boss to the wastewater unit to give him a tour of how things work and teach him how to do the audit since ‘he and I will be doing the audit together.’ Meh. The entire time my boss keeps giving me funny looks. Sighhh. I really hope he’s taken and declares he’s taken so that everyone will stop trying to give me hints especially since he most likely doesn’t have the Jesus-love going on.
So now life at the office is very awkward because of this idea that is now in everyone’s minds in the SHE department.
Oh right—I already tried to pull the ‘dating other coworkers is against company policy’ and I was told that ‘I was non-union and so was he so it doesn’t matter.’ Great. And Michael tried to get me to invite him out to drinks on Friday night just so I could have another awkward moment. Luckily he went back up to Penn State this weekend. Maybe I will invite him out with us UD cheggers at some point just for kicks and giggles (watch out though boys, he’s a frat guy and a super prep and all the girls will flock to him so be prepared for a deflation of the insanely large egos y'all have).
I managed to escape my boss after I finally admitted how cute the new guy is (which prompted a few smug looks from her) and hurried back to my office. Three hours later, Kristina (my boss) comes prancing into my office and told me to go entertain the new guy for an hour because he had nothing to do. And I look at her and said, ‘well, what am I supposed to do? I’m bored here all the time too!’ Her response: ‘I don’t know. Show him the files on our computer or something. Just keep him not bored.’ and then walks away. Sounds fishy, doesn’t it?
In order to get to his office, you have to walk through the purchasing office which consists of pretty much the only women on the site and they like to talk. So awkwardly, I weave in and out of them trying to get to his office only to find that he wasn’t there. I turn around to leave and just forget about this new assignment when my boss just happened to be in the doorway. She ordered me to leave a note for him to come find me. Seriously, she really did.
Me being insanely ADHD, grabbed three of his dry erase markers and wrote, ‘I was ordered to come here and un-bored you for an hour but you aren’t here. But if and when you do get bored, come find me in my office and I’ll attempt to un-bored you.’ Yes. I did write that. I don’t know what possessed me since clearly that is not a very professional note. On top of that, since he had never been to my office before I decided to draw him a map of the building and where his office was (with a ‘You are Here’ star) and where my office was (even though it seriously is just around the corner).
Fifteen minutes later, he shows up in my office grinning and said ‘I got your note….’ Yeaaaa. Let me just say that after leaving notes like that, it is very uncomfortably awkward starting a conversation. But I survived. Barely. I definitely found it hard to entertain him for more than fifteen minutes. But I let him play with Aspen and find all of our files on the servers.
The next day was Friday which means that I do the hazardous waste audit and my team orders lunch together. Go figure I forget that I don’t have cash on me and as I started to say, ‘Go order without me and I’ll just head to Wawa to get something later,’ Mr. New Guy hands the guy a twenty and says that he can cover me until later which naturally makes everyone stare at me waiting for my reaction with eyebrows raised and smug looks on their faces. I’m telling you- the people I work with need more stuff to do because clearly they aren’t busy enough to stop gossiping. And right after he pays, I’m told to go with him and my matchmaking boss to the wastewater unit to give him a tour of how things work and teach him how to do the audit since ‘he and I will be doing the audit together.’ Meh. The entire time my boss keeps giving me funny looks. Sighhh. I really hope he’s taken and declares he’s taken so that everyone will stop trying to give me hints especially since he most likely doesn’t have the Jesus-love going on.
So now life at the office is very awkward because of this idea that is now in everyone’s minds in the SHE department.
Oh right—I already tried to pull the ‘dating other coworkers is against company policy’ and I was told that ‘I was non-union and so was he so it doesn’t matter.’ Great. And Michael tried to get me to invite him out to drinks on Friday night just so I could have another awkward moment. Luckily he went back up to Penn State this weekend. Maybe I will invite him out with us UD cheggers at some point just for kicks and giggles (watch out though boys, he’s a frat guy and a super prep and all the girls will flock to him so be prepared for a deflation of the insanely large egos y'all have).
Monday, June 7, 2010
Meeting Bronco Mike
There is a reason why Heather and Kuk told me to keep the house standing and in shape while they were away. Oh man. Friday night, I came back from hanging out with some girls (I know, be proud that I hung out with non-engineering girls!) and cleaned my room and packed to go home the next morning. I ended up going to bed at 1:30 and planned to wake up at 8:30 to get home at a reasonable hour in the morning… or at least I had planned to sleep at 1:30. Around 1:45, I hear shouting outside and guys cursing that our front door was locked. Then they started shouting while walking to the back door, “Catherine! Catherine! Are you here!? Are you awake!?! Open the door! We're bleeding!!!” She wasn’t home. I was the only one there. Go figure.
I got out of bed to go downstairs to open the door to tell them she wasn’t home so they needed to go home. I ended up getting as far as my bedroom door and opening it and came face-to-face with a giant, very drunk dude. And by dude I mean two guys, one covered in blood and the giant having drippings of blood on him from the other guy. (And by blood, I mean blood enough that it very obviously ruined his outfit and if he had gone around during the daylight, police would have been called and he would have been considered a zombie-slayer or something that's how much blood he had on him.)
I don’t even know how to describe what happened next. At first I was shocked at just how tall this dude was. And then I realized how drunk they were. And then I realized that no, that was not paint but actual blood all over the shorter dude. And I didn’t have my glasses on so I couldn't see very well and I had no clue who these guys were. The tall dude seemed the least intoxicated and asked me if I was friends with Heather and that they weren’t going to cause any trouble or make noise but just use our shower. Mmhmm. That’s what he claimed. So I lead these two guys into the bathroom and start apologizing for all the dirt in the shower (because I haven’t had time to bleach it) while the giant kept thanking me and asking for my name and for my other housemates. Also, he kept trying to hug me but because he was so large I felt like I was a two year old being smothered by a giant uncle or something and it was not the most comfortable moment in my life. The next thing I know I’m asked to take off the bloody guy’s pants and get him in the shower and he’s standing in his boxers just staring at his cut arm giggling because he didn’t know how he got cut. I didn't even know his name at this point in the night and here I am trying to get out of showering him.
I was able to ask the giant who they were and he said, "I'm Dan and this is my brother Mike." OH!!!! (aka Dan and Bronco Mike). Now I knew exactly who they were so I didn't feel quite so terrified of this situation. So what should a girl do to prevent oneself from getting into a terrible situation with drunk bloody boys about to attempt to shower? Answer: Grab a towel! I leave the bathroom, put my glasses on so I could see, text Catherine and grab a bath towel. By the grace of God, Catherine just happened to have left her party and showed up at home. Bahaha- when she heard the two guys upstairs, she came storming up the stairs, saw the blood, got so mad/panicked (she was drunk too), grabbed Mike's arm and literally pulled him into the shower, turned on the HOT water (and only hot) and held him there. I felt like she was torturing him because of his screamns. Tehe. That was entertaining, not gonna lie. He shrieked like a little girl but because he was so drunk he still was laughing. Dan was still trying to hug me and figure out who I was.
After we cleaned his arm up, the cut wasn’t that big. Honestly I have no idea how there was that much blood for that small of a cut and we have no idea where they got the cut. But it kept bleeding profusely and our puny princess band-aids weren’t working to keep it, so what does Catherine find? A pad. Yes, we decided to use a pad for his arm. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t go all the way around his arm (it wasn’t the super long ones sadly enough) so we needed to tape it to the cut. Poor kid. The only tape we found was yellow electrical tape. So we taped a feminine pad to this very drunk kid’s arm with electrical tape and tried to get him to bed. Getting him to go to bed was probably the most difficult task of the night though because he STILL was giggling and complaining about his arm all while a third guy showed up (this guy I actually did know) who just kept making fun of the pad. “Would you like a tampon too? How’s your flow? Is it your time of the month?” To calm Mike down from reacting about the pad, Catherine scratches his ears like a dog. I wish I had this videotaped because he legit looked like a puppy and there was definitely an imaginary tail a-wagging. Tehe, that part was funny.
So we get Mike in bed and there are two other drunks still wide awake and ready to destroy everything in their path. Catherine tells me to go to bed; however, as I am trying to leave I get cornered by the giant who just keeps saying “Cara you are nice and adorable. I want a hug.” Then I am scooped up by this man. Literally. He scooped me up. I did NOT appreciate that nor was I about to trust anything he was about to do.But what does he do? He puts me down and promptly ‘boops’ my nose. Yes. Boop. Wow.
I try to go to bed but Dan tries to follow me into my room like a puppy dog. Then the third dude (also named Mike), asks Catherine to make him a sandwich. Dan got distracted by the thought of food, I slam my door and lock it. While Catherine went downstairs to make the boys pb&j, all I hear is shouting and pounding from the movie room where the boys are. I don't even want to know what they were trying to do but they attempted to start a movie, Catherine tried to help them but it failed so no movie for them. Dan was bored and tries to visit me again (while I'm in bed trying to sleep) so he kept running into my door and pounding on it wanting me to open it. (I didn't, don't worry friends). I now understand why Marlene so desperately wanted a deadbolt for her bedroom door.
Around 3am, the boys FINALLY fell asleep which meant that I was then able to sleep too. Until about 7:30 when they woke up again. I'm pretty sure Mike (the one with the cut) hadn't sobered up yet. They started giggling about last night and trying to recount what happened. Something about an Asian girl who was hot and all that stuff that guys talk about when girls aren't around. At some moment, they make fun of Mike about the pad on his arm and then go downstairs to play video games and watch Saturday morning cartoons. Catherine says that it was just video games but I'm pretty sure I heard cartoons early in the morning. I quit even trying to go back to sleep but start packing to go home.
Around 8:30, Catherine wakes up and decides to make pancakes. Fun fact for the day: pancakes work best when you have enough eggs for the recipe. We ended up literally scrambling the pancake batter instead of trying to flip them they were too runny. And Dan and Mike ate them like it was their job. Around 10am, Catherine rounds them up and drives them to their cars and I leave for home.
I'm requesting one thing of you oh dearly amused audience and readers of this blog: Please don't tell my family about this because my father will flip out and make me move out of this house and I don't want to do that to Catherine and Heather. It was a very hard task for me to keep it quiet when I went home that day but I managed so you can manage to not tell my family about it also. Kthanks.
And to answer your question: No, we still don't quite know where/how Mike got cut Friday night but it def had to have been a cut from glass.
Don't drink and drive kids. Or just don't drink. Ever. Or you will turn into a puppy-like zombie-killer too. But puppy-like zombie-killers aren't that scary if you are forced to interact with them.
Also- don't drive with drunk guys in your car. They will lick your face.
I got out of bed to go downstairs to open the door to tell them she wasn’t home so they needed to go home. I ended up getting as far as my bedroom door and opening it and came face-to-face with a giant, very drunk dude. And by dude I mean two guys, one covered in blood and the giant having drippings of blood on him from the other guy. (And by blood, I mean blood enough that it very obviously ruined his outfit and if he had gone around during the daylight, police would have been called and he would have been considered a zombie-slayer or something that's how much blood he had on him.)
I don’t even know how to describe what happened next. At first I was shocked at just how tall this dude was. And then I realized how drunk they were. And then I realized that no, that was not paint but actual blood all over the shorter dude. And I didn’t have my glasses on so I couldn't see very well and I had no clue who these guys were. The tall dude seemed the least intoxicated and asked me if I was friends with Heather and that they weren’t going to cause any trouble or make noise but just use our shower. Mmhmm. That’s what he claimed. So I lead these two guys into the bathroom and start apologizing for all the dirt in the shower (because I haven’t had time to bleach it) while the giant kept thanking me and asking for my name and for my other housemates. Also, he kept trying to hug me but because he was so large I felt like I was a two year old being smothered by a giant uncle or something and it was not the most comfortable moment in my life. The next thing I know I’m asked to take off the bloody guy’s pants and get him in the shower and he’s standing in his boxers just staring at his cut arm giggling because he didn’t know how he got cut. I didn't even know his name at this point in the night and here I am trying to get out of showering him.
I was able to ask the giant who they were and he said, "I'm Dan and this is my brother Mike." OH!!!! (aka Dan and Bronco Mike). Now I knew exactly who they were so I didn't feel quite so terrified of this situation. So what should a girl do to prevent oneself from getting into a terrible situation with drunk bloody boys about to attempt to shower? Answer: Grab a towel! I leave the bathroom, put my glasses on so I could see, text Catherine and grab a bath towel. By the grace of God, Catherine just happened to have left her party and showed up at home. Bahaha- when she heard the two guys upstairs, she came storming up the stairs, saw the blood, got so mad/panicked (she was drunk too), grabbed Mike's arm and literally pulled him into the shower, turned on the HOT water (and only hot) and held him there. I felt like she was torturing him because of his screamns. Tehe. That was entertaining, not gonna lie. He shrieked like a little girl but because he was so drunk he still was laughing. Dan was still trying to hug me and figure out who I was.
After we cleaned his arm up, the cut wasn’t that big. Honestly I have no idea how there was that much blood for that small of a cut and we have no idea where they got the cut. But it kept bleeding profusely and our puny princess band-aids weren’t working to keep it, so what does Catherine find? A pad. Yes, we decided to use a pad for his arm. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t go all the way around his arm (it wasn’t the super long ones sadly enough) so we needed to tape it to the cut. Poor kid. The only tape we found was yellow electrical tape. So we taped a feminine pad to this very drunk kid’s arm with electrical tape and tried to get him to bed. Getting him to go to bed was probably the most difficult task of the night though because he STILL was giggling and complaining about his arm all while a third guy showed up (this guy I actually did know) who just kept making fun of the pad. “Would you like a tampon too? How’s your flow? Is it your time of the month?” To calm Mike down from reacting about the pad, Catherine scratches his ears like a dog. I wish I had this videotaped because he legit looked like a puppy and there was definitely an imaginary tail a-wagging. Tehe, that part was funny.
So we get Mike in bed and there are two other drunks still wide awake and ready to destroy everything in their path. Catherine tells me to go to bed; however, as I am trying to leave I get cornered by the giant who just keeps saying “Cara you are nice and adorable. I want a hug.” Then I am scooped up by this man. Literally. He scooped me up. I did NOT appreciate that nor was I about to trust anything he was about to do.But what does he do? He puts me down and promptly ‘boops’ my nose. Yes. Boop. Wow.
I try to go to bed but Dan tries to follow me into my room like a puppy dog. Then the third dude (also named Mike), asks Catherine to make him a sandwich. Dan got distracted by the thought of food, I slam my door and lock it. While Catherine went downstairs to make the boys pb&j, all I hear is shouting and pounding from the movie room where the boys are. I don't even want to know what they were trying to do but they attempted to start a movie, Catherine tried to help them but it failed so no movie for them. Dan was bored and tries to visit me again (while I'm in bed trying to sleep) so he kept running into my door and pounding on it wanting me to open it. (I didn't, don't worry friends). I now understand why Marlene so desperately wanted a deadbolt for her bedroom door.
Around 3am, the boys FINALLY fell asleep which meant that I was then able to sleep too. Until about 7:30 when they woke up again. I'm pretty sure Mike (the one with the cut) hadn't sobered up yet. They started giggling about last night and trying to recount what happened. Something about an Asian girl who was hot and all that stuff that guys talk about when girls aren't around. At some moment, they make fun of Mike about the pad on his arm and then go downstairs to play video games and watch Saturday morning cartoons. Catherine says that it was just video games but I'm pretty sure I heard cartoons early in the morning. I quit even trying to go back to sleep but start packing to go home.
Around 8:30, Catherine wakes up and decides to make pancakes. Fun fact for the day: pancakes work best when you have enough eggs for the recipe. We ended up literally scrambling the pancake batter instead of trying to flip them they were too runny. And Dan and Mike ate them like it was their job. Around 10am, Catherine rounds them up and drives them to their cars and I leave for home.
I'm requesting one thing of you oh dearly amused audience and readers of this blog: Please don't tell my family about this because my father will flip out and make me move out of this house and I don't want to do that to Catherine and Heather. It was a very hard task for me to keep it quiet when I went home that day but I managed so you can manage to not tell my family about it also. Kthanks.
And to answer your question: No, we still don't quite know where/how Mike got cut Friday night but it def had to have been a cut from glass.
Don't drink and drive kids. Or just don't drink. Ever. Or you will turn into a puppy-like zombie-killer too. But puppy-like zombie-killers aren't that scary if you are forced to interact with them.
Also- don't drive with drunk guys in your car. They will lick your face.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Clumsy Face and wheelchairs...
I fail at being a caregiver to old people. For example, my mother has been very ill this past week. (Don’t forget, I have old parents.) It was decided last night that this morning I was to take my mother to the walk-in clinic and get her checked out by a doctor (we’ve been trying to get her to agree to this for about 4 days). This morning I wake up and get ready and go try to get her up. Literally. She couldn’t stand. Her foot was so bad that she couldn’t walk today. After my brother and I very carefully work some skillful magic to get her into the car I decide that when I am at the clinic I am going to get them to stick her in a wheelchair until they look at her.
And by them, that turned out to be just little me. I’m so bad with mechanical things some days it’s amazingly perplexing that I’m an engineer. When I finally got her into the chair (note to self: brakes are wonderful inventions), I go wheel her inside the clinic. The lovely nurse had propped open the doors for me, but unfortunately, she did not prop the people back. It was so crowded in there that I didn’t know where to go. I finally found an empty corner in the waiting room so I started to head towards that spot.
Note to all sick persons: that waiting room is not handicap friendly. The chair barely fit through the aisle but not with people in it. I announced to the room as they were watching me (because they had nothing better to watch apparently) and my mother was bossing that ‘I’m not very good at this whole chair game’ yet they still didn’t get it… until I promptly ran over 4 different people’s feet right in a row. That was embarrassing.
As I was apologizing to the first lady, I heard an “OUCH!” from her husband. You would think that he would’ve learned since I had just run over his wife’s foot that his feet were in danger too. But alas, men can be naïve and therefore, he got a large woman and her chair’s weight on his little piggy toes. And it didn’t stop there. I ran into two other people as well.
Que oso! Especially since after waiting when they called my mother’s name, everyone got up and cowered against the wall as I went to wheel her to the back room but then a nurse was sent from around the corner to do it for me. Oh man. How am I supposed to be the caregiver when she actually does start to have serious feet issues? Maybe I’ll get my brother to do it…
Oh right- After she saw the doctor and everything was happy, the doctor wheeled her to the front door so that I could push her out the door and to the car. And I promptly started to push her INTO not just one door, but TWO doors. In front of everyone. At least my mother found it semi-amusing and was too weak to scold me.
And by them, that turned out to be just little me. I’m so bad with mechanical things some days it’s amazingly perplexing that I’m an engineer. When I finally got her into the chair (note to self: brakes are wonderful inventions), I go wheel her inside the clinic. The lovely nurse had propped open the doors for me, but unfortunately, she did not prop the people back. It was so crowded in there that I didn’t know where to go. I finally found an empty corner in the waiting room so I started to head towards that spot.
Note to all sick persons: that waiting room is not handicap friendly. The chair barely fit through the aisle but not with people in it. I announced to the room as they were watching me (because they had nothing better to watch apparently) and my mother was bossing that ‘I’m not very good at this whole chair game’ yet they still didn’t get it… until I promptly ran over 4 different people’s feet right in a row. That was embarrassing.
As I was apologizing to the first lady, I heard an “OUCH!” from her husband. You would think that he would’ve learned since I had just run over his wife’s foot that his feet were in danger too. But alas, men can be naïve and therefore, he got a large woman and her chair’s weight on his little piggy toes. And it didn’t stop there. I ran into two other people as well.
Que oso! Especially since after waiting when they called my mother’s name, everyone got up and cowered against the wall as I went to wheel her to the back room but then a nurse was sent from around the corner to do it for me. Oh man. How am I supposed to be the caregiver when she actually does start to have serious feet issues? Maybe I’ll get my brother to do it…
Oh right- After she saw the doctor and everything was happy, the doctor wheeled her to the front door so that I could push her out the door and to the car. And I promptly started to push her INTO not just one door, but TWO doors. In front of everyone. At least my mother found it semi-amusing and was too weak to scold me.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Taylor the latte boy...
In general, I am very apprehensive in sharing any stories or feelings I have in regards to boys to anyone—especially girls. In my experience, us girls tend to have very big mouths and say too much to people I don’t want knowing what I think. (Yes, I am 100% guilty of this crime too.) Well, I’ve been attempting to work on this hesitation for many reasons (something about dealing with trust issues and learning to open up emotionally, yadda yadda yadda) and so have been slowly opening myself up to more people. This is the story of what happens when I tell people things about my life with respect to boys.
I have this friend (bless her heart) who bounds through life with a lot of enthusiasm and spontaneity and excitement. She also can get very hyper after consuming sugary drinks such as soda. Well, I made the mistake of telling her once how I had this crush on a guy that I barely knew last year. I mean after all he was an athlete, an engineer, and a fellow Jesus-lover. Who doesn’t have a crush on him?! But the best part about him was his name.
You see, I once heard this song called ‘Taylor the Latte Boy’ which is an anecdote about how this girl goes into Starbucks every day and orders a latte and she meets this boy who is her dream boy, etc. Since I am a HUGE coffee fan (and addict), I have always said that is how I am going to meet my dream guy. So what made my crush even better was that this guy’s name was Taylor. (This is humiliating because everyone reading this blog now knows exactly who and what I am talking about).
My friend who loves to bound through life heard this story and I told her about how he is my ‘latte boy’ because he seemed so perfect. Apparently, she thought this meant that he actually knew I called him my latte boy. One day, she had a soda and was incredibly unfiltered with her excitement. He walked into the room and she saw him (and chances are that this guy does not to this day know who she is) and got so excited she went running over to him and asked him, ‘Aren’t you Cara’s Latte boy?!!’
Uhhhhh…. So wrong on so many levels. A word of advice to anyone: DO NOT DO THAT! EVER! He stared at her with a blank face so she tried to clarify, ‘You know… Cara Watson.’ So now this poor boy must be super confused because this girl he doesn’t know is talking to him and she just mentioned this other girl that he barely knows well and referenced something about him that he doesn’t have a clue what it means. Sigh. She texted me all excited and proud of herself not realizing that I actually have not told him that I call him my Latte boy nor had she realized that she made life more difficult for me. The next time I see him, I’m praying he won’t bring it up and ask why I call him my ‘Latte boy' because I'm pretty sure I'll turn beet red and not know how to explain the whole song without showing it to him, which then will weird him out.
In conclusion, the whole attempt at opening up about guys to other girls completely backfired and now I still have trust issues to work out. And now I will be further humiliated after posting this story and chances are his people will read this and this will get back to him. But that is a sacrifice I am willing to make for your entertainment.
(Oh yea—this was the same week that as a joke, I brought him cookies to prove a point. But that’s another story.)
I have this friend (bless her heart) who bounds through life with a lot of enthusiasm and spontaneity and excitement. She also can get very hyper after consuming sugary drinks such as soda. Well, I made the mistake of telling her once how I had this crush on a guy that I barely knew last year. I mean after all he was an athlete, an engineer, and a fellow Jesus-lover. Who doesn’t have a crush on him?! But the best part about him was his name.
You see, I once heard this song called ‘Taylor the Latte Boy’ which is an anecdote about how this girl goes into Starbucks every day and orders a latte and she meets this boy who is her dream boy, etc. Since I am a HUGE coffee fan (and addict), I have always said that is how I am going to meet my dream guy. So what made my crush even better was that this guy’s name was Taylor. (This is humiliating because everyone reading this blog now knows exactly who and what I am talking about).
My friend who loves to bound through life heard this story and I told her about how he is my ‘latte boy’ because he seemed so perfect. Apparently, she thought this meant that he actually knew I called him my latte boy. One day, she had a soda and was incredibly unfiltered with her excitement. He walked into the room and she saw him (and chances are that this guy does not to this day know who she is) and got so excited she went running over to him and asked him, ‘Aren’t you Cara’s Latte boy?!!’
Uhhhhh…. So wrong on so many levels. A word of advice to anyone: DO NOT DO THAT! EVER! He stared at her with a blank face so she tried to clarify, ‘You know… Cara Watson.’ So now this poor boy must be super confused because this girl he doesn’t know is talking to him and she just mentioned this other girl that he barely knows well and referenced something about him that he doesn’t have a clue what it means. Sigh. She texted me all excited and proud of herself not realizing that I actually have not told him that I call him my Latte boy nor had she realized that she made life more difficult for me. The next time I see him, I’m praying he won’t bring it up and ask why I call him my ‘Latte boy' because I'm pretty sure I'll turn beet red and not know how to explain the whole song without showing it to him, which then will weird him out.
In conclusion, the whole attempt at opening up about guys to other girls completely backfired and now I still have trust issues to work out. And now I will be further humiliated after posting this story and chances are his people will read this and this will get back to him. But that is a sacrifice I am willing to make for your entertainment.
(Oh yea—this was the same week that as a joke, I brought him cookies to prove a point. But that’s another story.)
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Awkward Face
HI. My name is Cara but lots of people call me Face. 'Why?' you ask. Well... translated into Spanish, cara means face. And I did travel to Guatemala where my host insisted that I say 'me llamo cara' and all the children and adults would laugh at me. (Fun fact: cara means face in Spanish, expensive in Italian, dear in Latin, friendly in Gaillic... so therefore I am a dear, expensive, friendly face.) I also am an engineer, a Marylander living in Delaware and a blonde.
So stay tuned.
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