Sunday, April 26, 2009


Dreamed that I had breakfast with Sarah but didn't talk about what we planned. Woke and realized I hadn't gone to breakfast yet. Went back to sleep. Woke right before alarm. Threw on a sweatshirt and nice, worn jeans. Got in my car and drove to pick up Sarah. Drove to Egg Plantation where I ordered Strawberry Creamcheese Stuffed French Toast. Talked with Sarah. Drove Sarah home. Went home and picked up "smart casual" clothes to wear to wedding reception. Drove over to the Payne's to watch Nathaniel. Played with Nathaniel and Tilly. Watched Tilly frustrate Nathaniel by licking his face. Watched Nathaniel frustrate Tilly by petting her too hard. Read a good book while Nathaniel napped. Observed Nathaniel attempting to walk. Chatted with Lindsey. Drove back home to change for wedding reception. Stopped to get gas. Backed up to a pummp that actually worked. Drove to Target to pick up present while trying to fix wind blown hair. Stood in line and talked with Target lady about Andrew and Vicky. Wrapped present in car until it got too hot. Realized I bought a faulty gift bag. Attempted to fix gift bag while driving. Wrote card while driving. Arrived at wedding reception. Chatted with Kristen, the Hayes' and Marietjie. Ate some red velvet cake and a gluten free cupcake. Got back in the car to drive to Megan's. Found wedding card that didn't make it into the bag. Arrived at Megan's. Hung up pictures. Watched some Gilmore Girls. Ate In-n-Out. Went shopping for curtains. Got curtains for free. Heard about Megan's first job that I never knew she had. Arrived back at apartment that has no parking. Hung up curtains. Walked to car bundled in a beach towel while holding two large paintings. Walked through some sprinklers. Thankful for towel. Hung up paintings. Started to write paper. Watched a movie while writing paper. Got annoyed by neighbors playing horseshoes after midnight. Finished paper around 2 o'clock. Decided procrastination is a bad idea. Slept soundly.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

Don't Try This At Home

A few days ago I was reading a friend's blog and was reminded of an incident that happened to me my freshman year of college. It is a memory that I had successfully pushed to the back of my mind. Until the blog. But then I thought, maybe the story could bring comfort to another soul as, dare I say the word, stupid, as me. So without further ado, let me go on with the story.

It was a quiet Wednesday morning in the pink infested dorm of Waldock. The clock showed 6:45 or so. I knew two things: 1.) I wanted to drink some chai tea. 2.) I needed to do some sit-ups. The freshman 15 was already showing it's effects.
I just happened to have some chai tea mix and there was a microwave conveniently located near the stairs right outside our wing's hallway. I thought, "Perfect! I can heat up the water while I do my sit-ups!" So I preceded with my plan. After I completed my first set of sit-ups, I walked out the door, down the hall and opened the door to the stairway area. As soon as I opened the door a thick wall of smoke hit me. I looked toward the microwave and noticed that smoke was pouring out of the microwave vent!

Again, not using my brain, I ran back to my room yelling my roommate's name, "Christine! Christine!" I don't even think I could get words out to explain what was wrong...but from the look of terror on my face and my crazy, flailing arms, she managed to decipher my desire for her to follow me, and, being the calm and collected person she is, she walked up to the microwave and turned it off. It was at this time that the fire alarms chose to go off. That's right my friends. The ENTIRE dorm...all 80 girls...had to evacuate. At around 7:05 in the morning. A chapel morning. Which meant that basically everyone but the slackers were awake and that pretty much ALL of the showers were occupied.

I blame it on my early morning state. When I first wake up, I can't even button my clothes correctly or untie a bow without making a knot, let alone muster enough brain cells to think not to put metal in the microwave. Yes, indeed, I had put my metal coffee thermos thing in the microwave. Something that Kindergarteners learn not to do. For awhile I entertained the idea that maybe we really wouldn't have to evacuate. I mean, after all, I knew it was just my coffee thermos. Nothing harmful about that...there was no serious fire. But then our R.D. came onto the hall and said that we all had to exit to the lawn in front of the dorm...the that came said that the fumes from the rubber exterior of the thermos may be toxic!

As I watched girl after girl filing out of the bathroom with shampoo in their hair and wet pajamas, the comments began to roll in. "Who was stupid enough to put metal in the microwave?" "I can't believe it! I was in the middle of a shower!" "Where's the moron?!!!" and other like retorts were spewed forth right and left. Terror and panic turned to utter humiliation.

After five minutes that felt like five days we were all out on the lawn...and the condescending fire man slowly exited the building holding my charred and melted coffee thermos with a tongs-like apparatus. He asked who it belonged to. I witnessed 158 eyes scanning the crowd. My two eyes were glued to what remained of my coffee thermos. The one my dad had bought me for my 18th birthday. My hand did not move an inch and my lips did not allow a single breath to escape. He went on to say that if I didn't claim it, he would trash it. What did the man think??? That I wanted a trophy of my idiocy resting on my dormroom desk??? Did he think I would actually use it again for its intended purpose??? Finally he got the hint and walked away with a reminder of one of the first rules our mothers teach us.

But the humiliation didn't end there. Those angry, soapy, shampooey Waldockians wanted answers! Who were they to blame for their ruined Wednesday morning? I refused to answer until one of my friends that I had since high school, HIGH SCHOOL, made some comment about her grandmother saying that my appalling action was one of the dumbest mistakes young people can make. It was something along those lines. I couldn't take it anymore. "I did it! Okay?!! It was me! So thanks for all your comments!" I said something like that. Then, since the toxic fumes had apparently evaporated and we were allowed back in the dorm, I ran up the stairs and into my room and I did what any normal mortified freshman girl would logically do; I cried. In walked one of the senior girls. She was just laughing and tried to sympathize a bit, but it didn't really work. She left and then my R.A. walked in. My R.A. was great. She was very good at showing freshmen the ropes. She gave me a hug and told me that one day I would laugh about it. I didn't believe her. I wasn't laughing when I went down to chapel and girls were still trying to find out who did it. I wasn't laughing when the girl who owned the demolished microwave said that I needed to pay up. But...she was right. I laugh now whenever a friend brings up that story..."remember when you..." and I laugh when someone tells me that they just told one of their relatives about "that time when I..." and, I must admit, I am thankful for a story I can tell the "grandkids" someday.


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