What the Duck

My power went out about midnight last night. When I left for work this morning, it still wasn't back on. (that's right - try putting on eyeliner and concealer in the glow of eight flickering tea lights...)

And, while I couldn't turn my TV on at 2:30 am, I realized I didn't need it. It turns out there was an episode of Cops playing right outside my bedroom window!

I had finally fallen back asleep after a good hour of laying in bed worrying about my lack of electricity. And, my lack of white noise thanks to my fan... Then, I was ripped out of my sweet, silent slumber by yells. Yes, someone was yelling. Outside. In a thunderstorm. Yelling loud enough that I could hear him over the actual thunder. OMG.

I had to investigate! I peered out my rain-covered window to witness a young man walking down the road in only jeans, a t-shirt and a red flannel shirt. Rain jacket - what's that? And, as he was walking, he was yelling. It sounded something like this: (*words changed for the conservative and holy...)

What the duck!!!!!! What the duck is happening!?!?!?! Duck this!!!!! What the duck!!!!

Seriously? A crazy man screaming bloody murder in the middle of an apartment complex in a thunder and lightening storm in the middle of the night?? Awesome!

Then the cops showed up. "Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do!?" One of my neighbors must have been more annoyed than intrigued by this young man's antics... The cops shut him up, calmed him down and made a big production with their flashy lights and neon rain slickers. And, then, they must have told him it was time to go home.

Because, before I knew it, there was a young woman in a parka with a fur lined hood (seriously, fur in a thunderstorm?) standing in the road, ready to escort her man home. And, she came prepared. With a garbage can lid. As they couple walked back to their building, I saw her sheilding her man from the torrential rain with the lid. You know, so he wouldn't get wet....

Um, did I mention he'd be out YELLING in the RAIN for over thirty minutes?!?! What the duck.

Obviously, idiots are attracted to idiots.

Hoosier 4 Life.

I watched this video a few days ago. It made me laugh. And, it brought tears to my eyes because I long for Bloomington. When I was an undergrad, I had student season tickets every. single. year. I loved going to games!! (I won't even mention my heathen of a little sister who has only gone to a handful of games. One of them I took her to when she was in high school. No school spirit, I tell ya! Oh wait... I just mentioned it. Oh well!) And, there are countless stories surrounding my friends and me going to games. (...like the time the cops drove me and Emily home from Assembly Hall....) Heck, when I was on Homecoming Court, I was asked what my biggest regret from my fours years at IU was. My response: "I regret I've never been given the chance to run with the flags at the eight minute timeout." True story! (And I STILL didn't get to run with them!)

Now, I have a confession. This Hoosier gal that bleeds Cream and Crimson is going to a Purdue basketball game this weekend. And, I'm not even taking an easy ride up 65 to see the game in Lafayette. Nope! I'm driving across the country to go to the game. SIX HOURS IN THE CAR TO GO TO A PURDUE GAME!!! OH!! MY!! GAWD!! I just keep telling myself it's just a fun weekend roadtrip with an athletic event thrown in for shit and giggles. And, there is no way in heck I'm wearing gold and black.

Hoo-Hoo-Hoo- HOOSIERS!!!

ouch.

A couple times a month, I mentor a group of kids who are Juniors at an "urban" high school in town. They're incredibly bright. Incredibly awesome. And, make me feel incredibly old. Case in point - below is a conversation between me and two of my mentees, D & K.

K: Dude, that show "How I Met Your Mother" is tight!
D: You know that guy who's, like, the "player" on that show? He's gay!
K: Yeah! I know!
Me: Oh, you mean Neil Patrick Harris?!
K: Yeah - that's him.
Me: Remember when he was on Doogie Howser?!?
D & K: **blank stares**

There's a whole generation that has never seen Doogie Howser M.D. And, I just tried to relate to them. FML.

Dating Tales of the Under- & Un- Employed

I've been meaning to write this post for quite some time.... In fact, I think it's been building for years now.

We're all attracted to a certain "type" of person. I tend to like either really big guys with great smiles or really cut guys with a good sense of humor. I've dated them all. But, I'm beginning to realize that we attract certain types to us. The type who I seem to attract like a magnet? The ones without a stable job. I'm not wanting to sound like a shallow girl looking for her sugar daddy. I just need to describe how I dated a string of guys who either didn't work or didn't have a stable job.

There was the guy who held four different jobs while I dated him. Talk about a roller coaster.

There was the "financial planner" who couldn't build a client list and was constantly on "probation" by corporate. Last I heard, he was forced to move to the city where corporate headquarters is located and endure nine months of intensive training. (Sidenote: I have no idea if he finished his training. Nor do I care. He's a cheatin' asshole.)

There was the teacher who wasn't really a teacher. He was paid hourly - when school was in session. Which means he did not receive a paycheck during summer break. And, he constantly lamented about how broke he was. Pretty sure his good looks and boyish charm were some of the only reasons we lasted as long as we did (a summer. go figure.).

There was the guy I met in a bar. He was trained in laying tile. But... he was working a seasonal job as a landscaper for his buddy. Days it rained? He didn't work. Weeks without rain? No work as there were no lawns to be mowed.

My favorite under-/un- employed story comes from a guy I only went on one date with. We met online. He said he was a doctor on his profile. I meet him for a coffee. Turns out, he's an anesthesiologist. Scratch that - an unemployed anesthesiologist. He had quit his job.... to find himself.

I can only imagine the thoughts running through my mom's head every time I told her about a new guy I was dating:
Me: "Mom, I'm dating this new guy and he's great! So much fun to hang out with!"
Mom: "That's great, honey! I'm glad you're having fun. So, what does he do for a living?"

I would reply very enthusiastically about whatever oddball job the guy of the moment was holding down. I'm always the optimist... I'm sure she was rolling her eyes on the other end of the phone. Actually, it was my mom who brought to my attention the string of guys I'd dated who didn't really have a job. She even asked, "Honey, do you put 'have a big heart for those on hard times' in your dating profile?" Ha!

Thanks, Mom! Honestly - I needed that realization! And, I promise - I'm working on it.

Disclaimer: I'm in a great relationship with a great guy. And, he really likes his job. And, he's good at what he does. :)

Online.

Let's face it. We're an online world. And, I'm no stranger to all that is the internet.

I check my email ALL. THE. TIME. online.

I post Facebook statuses frequently online.

I buy most of my gifts online.

I bank online. (Today, I bought some stock online.)

I search for recipes online.

I search for coupons online.

Heck, I even found my boyfriend online! (thanks, eharmony.com!)

Today, I tried something new. I signed up for Weight Watchers online. I have about fifteen pounds I'd like to lose. If I can get some encouragement via the web (and for a nominal fee), well then, I'll take it! Here's to counting points in 2011!

(P.S. - It's only the first day and already my cravings for some cheese are ridiculous. I'm a cheese addict.)
(P.P.S. - I stayed BELOW my points limit for the day!)

Rocky Mountain High

I was driving West tonight. It was dark. The clouds were hanging low. They were illuminated from behind by the sun that had already left my little place in the world. And, my eyes tricked my mind into thinking there was a mountain range in front of me. Cue goosebumps. And, this feeling of content from deep within my heart.

I have always been enchanted by them. Mountains. Maybe that's where my soul needs to be. And my body needs to follow. But, how do I get there? What am I willing to give up in order to feel that kind of contentedness more often?

Bigfoot

As I drove down Fall Creek this morning, this hunk of metal and rubber greeted my on the side of the road, waving an American flag. I couldn't help but smile - and laugh out loud! You don't see stuff this memorable EVERY day. Thank goodness I pass the state fairgrounds on my drive in...

Bus Stops

I started working Downtown almost four years ago. And, while I love it, there is one part of working Downtown that I still find uncomfortable. The bus stops. They're big, crowded, noisy, dirty, smokey. Ugh.

So, when I walk to meetings, I will cross streets based on which route will take me past the least amount of bus stops. It may take a few extra footsteps, but it eases my bus stop anxiety. However, today, I had no choice but to walk through a bus stop. And, not just any bus stop, one of the biggest ones in town - it's a block long!!

Here's what I encountered as I walked on through the big ol' bus stop:
- Small child ran into me
- Almost tripped on some guy's bike
- Smelled somebody smoking weed
- Had to side step (onto a grate!) for a group of boys wearing their shorts below their butts. I guess that whole "ladies first" rule doesn't apply at bus stops
- Had a girl ash her cigarette on my shoe!!! (she didn't even notice...)

OMFG! Really? I finally figured out why I don't like the bus stops - they're oozing with rudeness! (and smoke!)

I'm back to taking the long way....

Fetus Fun

So, a friend of mine is pregnant. It's very exciting! And, she signed up to get those weekly emails that tell her what size the baby (a.k.a the fetus) is as she progresses through the pregnancy. Typically, these emails will compare the fetus to some time of produce. Your baby is the size of a walnut! Your baby is the size of an apple! Your baby is the size of a seedless watermelon! Ahh technology....

Anywho, a couple weeks ago, she received her email, opened it up, read the produce comparison and just didn't know what to think. Because it said... "Your baby is the size of an English hothouse cucumber!" WTH?!?

Of course - we had to Google an English hothouse cucumber. Basically, it's an extra long cucumber (roughly 14 inches). I'm shocked by this. I really thought babies, at six months in, would be... well, rounder! And, of course, I had to mention this to my mom. In all her "Mom" wisdom, she explains to me that babies grow in length first, and put on weight towards the end.

Fine. But, nature creeps me out. I all of a sudden begin thinking that my friend is pregnant with one of those creepy creatures that lived outside Ursula's lair in The Little Mermaid. I know this isn't true, but still!!!

Fast forward to the evening, when I'm popping by the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner. I'm grabbing some tomatoes when I see..... (on sale of course!)..... hothouse cumbers! Extra long cucumbers in! the! flesh! Yes, I bought one. There was no way I was going to pass up the chance to show my friend a real, live cucumber!

Except, I couldn't just bring a cucumber to show her. So, I took some time to give it some personality...

Yes. I dressed the cucumber up as a baby. And it was awesome!!

Why I Could Join the Army

Basic Training.

Less sit-ups and long runs? More yoga and pilates? If it wasn't for the guns, I could do this! (commence your snickering now)

New York Times Article Here