While I for the most part enjoy not having to deal with relationships, the biggest drawback of my currently single lifestyle is that it's very difficult to get out of my apartment and do things without feeling like a total loner. I mean, don't get me wrong...I'll go do something by myself. But it's usually more fun to have someone to go with. The problem with being a 20-something is that it seems to be harder at this point in life to be spontaneous and just say, "Hey, want to go to a movie tonight?" or "Hey, want to go downtown for this art and spaghetti festival?" or, "Hey, want to try that new Irish-Mexican place where Applebees used to be?"
It's like, people either already have plans, or they have to go to bed early, or they live in a different state, or they're married. And nothing against married people or folks with early bedtimes...it's just that I don't often plan social engagements far in advance and I just wish I had a guaranteed go-to guy for these and similar situations.
Well anyway, I've been looking for my next job recently, so I decided to put my wish for a fake boyfriend in the language I've been reading most lately:
WANTED: Fake Boyfriend
JOB TYPE: Temporary (6 to 9 months), Part-time/Internship
JOB DESCRIPTION: Going to movies and trying new restaurants with me; accompanying me to weddings, parties, and live performance events; coming with me to any sort of get-together that includes other couples so I don’t have to be the third/fifth/or other such odd-numbered wheel; occasionally staying in to watch DVDs with me; occasionally joining me and my dog for walks.
JOB REQUIREMENTS:
*Bachelor’s degree or similar life experience.
*Must be employed, so when people ask me what you do I don’t have to tell them you’re “exploring your options.”
*Must be willing to work flexible hours, especially weekends.
*Must be willing to attend local theatre, music, and art events as well as dine at local restaurants.
*Ideal candidate has a working knowledge of such TV shows as 30 Rock and The Office.
*Ideal candidate also has a working knowledge of Arrested Development and Dorm Life, as well as films such as Best in Show and Waiting for Guffman.
*Proficiency in giving shoulder massages a plus.
*Good listening skills and good hair a must.
*Ideal candidate possesses the ability to make me laugh.
Looking for a candidate who is positive, self-sufficient, and is not looking for an actual romantic connection or any kind of long-term arrangement. Lengthy and/or frequent phone conversation is discouraged, as is gift-giving, jealousy, and picking fights. This is an unpaid internship, but counts toward your credit as good boyfriend material in future relationships and will provide you with several opportunities to gain experience as a gentleman. To apply, please send resume, cover letter, head-shot, and one letter of recommendation to lisa.stanforth@gmail.com.
Whiners and d-bags need not apply!
Lis :)
Friday, October 2, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
and...off you go!
So I met -- scratch that, BEAT! -- a deadline I set for myself. My goal was to have an updated resume ready by October 1 to send out into the world in search of a Cool New Job. Well, yesterday I finished my revamped lil resume and uploaded it to a few different company sites in hopes of getting hired.
It just makes me feel so nervous.
It's weird that I can write blogs, talk to webcams, and tweet my most random thoughts for anyone to see, but when it comes to sending out a resume I feel very self-conscious and exposed.
I'm worried about things like, am I coming off as too braggy? Or am I not selling myself enough? Is someone going to look at my resume and laugh at me and then delete it? Or even worse, grumble, "stop wasting my time, idiot" as they move on to the next one? Here's the thing: I will never hear any of that negative feedback, but I still feel very self-conscious about the possibility of it happening! Is that crazy?
And the other thing is, I always sort of feel like sending out a resume is like tossing a message in a bottle out into the open sea. Is anyone even going to see it?! Or will it just float around until a killer whale mistakes it for a baby seal and eats it?
I don't really know where the killer whale fits into this analogy. I'm just sayin'.
Anyway, if you know anyone who's interested in hiring a well-spoken, well-organized, positive-thinking (except when it comes to resumes) multitasker with a penchant for problem-solving, let me know.
And if they laugh at my resume, don't tell me.
It just makes me feel so nervous.
It's weird that I can write blogs, talk to webcams, and tweet my most random thoughts for anyone to see, but when it comes to sending out a resume I feel very self-conscious and exposed.
I'm worried about things like, am I coming off as too braggy? Or am I not selling myself enough? Is someone going to look at my resume and laugh at me and then delete it? Or even worse, grumble, "stop wasting my time, idiot" as they move on to the next one? Here's the thing: I will never hear any of that negative feedback, but I still feel very self-conscious about the possibility of it happening! Is that crazy?
And the other thing is, I always sort of feel like sending out a resume is like tossing a message in a bottle out into the open sea. Is anyone even going to see it?! Or will it just float around until a killer whale mistakes it for a baby seal and eats it?
I don't really know where the killer whale fits into this analogy. I'm just sayin'.
Anyway, if you know anyone who's interested in hiring a well-spoken, well-organized, positive-thinking (except when it comes to resumes) multitasker with a penchant for problem-solving, let me know.
And if they laugh at my resume, don't tell me.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Smooth move, Ex Lax!
That's what my mom's friend Ron would say.
~Kenneth the Page, 30 Rock
Well, after six months I finally did it.
I took Lola outside...and forgot to bring my keys. Hence, locked out. Of the building.
Nice.
What was even nicer is that since we've been having really nice, warm weather, I've been lazy about putting shoes on before taking Lola outside. So I was barefoot. And in my PJs.
Yup.
So of course I realized just as the door was latching shut that I had locked myself out, and then I also realized it was like 1:00 in the afternoon, meaning pretty much everyone else in my building was at work. So no one was really coming in and out of the building at this time.
We had gone out the back door, so we walked (barefoot, mind you) around the building, through the grass toward the front door. And I just have to say, walking through the grass barefoot is kind of like walking through a minefield, only instead of mines there are little -- and big -- piles of poo that you have to constantly scan the ground for so you don't step on one.
This story would probably be better if I told you I DID step on a doggy-poo landmine, but that would be a lie. If you'd like to pretend I did for the sake of entertainment, that's fine with me.
So we got to the front door, and I just stood there...like a goober.
What next? Uhhhh...
We have a dial system that allows residents to ring people in through the front door, and for a moment I thought about just pushing random numbers until someone let me in. But considering I don't really know anyone in my building, I thought that might end up being super awkward.
Then I thought, well maybe I should push the button for the main office, and then I got those memories about living in dorms and how the RAs would tell you at the beginning of the year to always carry your keys with you because if you got locked out you were gonna get charged for it. So I hesitated because I didn't want to get...like...fined for getting locked out. Do they even do that at my building?
Luckily I didn't have to risk it because just then a guy came and unlocked the door on his way inside, letting Lola and me back into the building.
And then I stepped in dog poo.
KIDDING! Nothing gross happened.
The end.
~Kenneth the Page, 30 Rock
Well, after six months I finally did it.
I took Lola outside...and forgot to bring my keys. Hence, locked out. Of the building.
Nice.
What was even nicer is that since we've been having really nice, warm weather, I've been lazy about putting shoes on before taking Lola outside. So I was barefoot. And in my PJs.
Yup.
So of course I realized just as the door was latching shut that I had locked myself out, and then I also realized it was like 1:00 in the afternoon, meaning pretty much everyone else in my building was at work. So no one was really coming in and out of the building at this time.
We had gone out the back door, so we walked (barefoot, mind you) around the building, through the grass toward the front door. And I just have to say, walking through the grass barefoot is kind of like walking through a minefield, only instead of mines there are little -- and big -- piles of poo that you have to constantly scan the ground for so you don't step on one.
This story would probably be better if I told you I DID step on a doggy-poo landmine, but that would be a lie. If you'd like to pretend I did for the sake of entertainment, that's fine with me.
So we got to the front door, and I just stood there...like a goober.
What next? Uhhhh...
We have a dial system that allows residents to ring people in through the front door, and for a moment I thought about just pushing random numbers until someone let me in. But considering I don't really know anyone in my building, I thought that might end up being super awkward.
Then I thought, well maybe I should push the button for the main office, and then I got those memories about living in dorms and how the RAs would tell you at the beginning of the year to always carry your keys with you because if you got locked out you were gonna get charged for it. So I hesitated because I didn't want to get...like...fined for getting locked out. Do they even do that at my building?
Luckily I didn't have to risk it because just then a guy came and unlocked the door on his way inside, letting Lola and me back into the building.
And then I stepped in dog poo.
KIDDING! Nothing gross happened.
The end.
Friday, September 11, 2009
thumper
One of my favorite lines from the Disney classic Bambi is a mantra Thumper recites in a way so adorable I'll never forget it:
"If ya can't say somethin' nice...don't say nothin' at all."
Well, Thumper, I have a new one:
"If you can't say something nice, don't make something up."
Right? I feel like sometimes nice people get into a nasty habit of coming up with something nice to say even (and especially) when they don't mean it. I don't mean saying "good job" to someone who just sang the national anthem about a step and a half off-key. I mean saying to that person, "Wow, you were really great! You have such a wonderful voice!"
Because it's one thing to be polite, but it's something else completely to just be needlessly dishonest.
Remember in Mean Girls when Rachel McAdams told that one girl that she loved her skirt, but then turned around and told Lindsay Lohan that was "the ugliest effing skirt I've ever seen?" So why did she make a point to compliment the skirt in the first place?
I realize not everyone is trying to be a Regina George, but what ARE we trying to accomplish when we say stuff like that? I've always wondered if it was some sort of knee-jerk reaction to thinking something mean or negative. Do people think an unkind thought, and then immediately spit out a compliment to morally redeem themselves? Or do they open their mouth, realize they're about to say something rude, and instead make a last-minute turn in the opposite direction?
Maybe no one else gets why I'm so riled up about this...It just bugs me that sometimes people seem to go out of their way to say something nice when they really don't mean it. And then it makes me wonder if anything nice they've ever said to me is even true. I would rather they not try to make me feel good than falsely flatter me.
Of course, if you just have to spit out whatever uncharitable thought you were thinking and you have a faithful friend who won't tell anybody about it, there's always Clairee's variation of the "if you can't say something nice' mantra:
"If you can't say something nice about anybody, come sit by me!"
That one works too. ;)
"If ya can't say somethin' nice...don't say nothin' at all."
Well, Thumper, I have a new one:
"If you can't say something nice, don't make something up."
Right? I feel like sometimes nice people get into a nasty habit of coming up with something nice to say even (and especially) when they don't mean it. I don't mean saying "good job" to someone who just sang the national anthem about a step and a half off-key. I mean saying to that person, "Wow, you were really great! You have such a wonderful voice!"
Because it's one thing to be polite, but it's something else completely to just be needlessly dishonest.
Remember in Mean Girls when Rachel McAdams told that one girl that she loved her skirt, but then turned around and told Lindsay Lohan that was "the ugliest effing skirt I've ever seen?" So why did she make a point to compliment the skirt in the first place?
I realize not everyone is trying to be a Regina George, but what ARE we trying to accomplish when we say stuff like that? I've always wondered if it was some sort of knee-jerk reaction to thinking something mean or negative. Do people think an unkind thought, and then immediately spit out a compliment to morally redeem themselves? Or do they open their mouth, realize they're about to say something rude, and instead make a last-minute turn in the opposite direction?
Maybe no one else gets why I'm so riled up about this...It just bugs me that sometimes people seem to go out of their way to say something nice when they really don't mean it. And then it makes me wonder if anything nice they've ever said to me is even true. I would rather they not try to make me feel good than falsely flatter me.
Of course, if you just have to spit out whatever uncharitable thought you were thinking and you have a faithful friend who won't tell anybody about it, there's always Clairee's variation of the "if you can't say something nice' mantra:
"If you can't say something nice about anybody, come sit by me!"
That one works too. ;)
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
if i could write songs...
...I'd write one about today.
But unfortunately, I don't possess that gift. So I'm just going to describe it to you.
Lola and I went for a walk downtown. It was perfect: sunny, comfortably cool, warm but not enough to break a sweat. Jeans and t-shirt (and scarf!) and sunglasses weather.
We took a lap around the courthouse square and passed the Java Roaster where there are ALWAYS people sitting around outside, which is one of the reasons I love the place so much. Today it was a friendly older man who gave Lola a good ear-scratch, a very school-of-ag looking student studying a text book, and a couple of biker dudes.
Lola and I turned the corner and headed toward the pedestrian bridge, passing Red Seven where people were enjoying the most scrumptious cuisine I have ever smelled. We decided to work up an appetite and started across the bridge.
As we climbed the depot stairs, a train passed underneath us, which is always fun for some reason. Lola looked so cute climbing up and down the stairways that got us to the pedestrian bridge. Something about those wrinkly little legs hopping steps and those perky little ears flopping and that pink tongue sticking out sideways just gets me!
We said hello to another older gentleman who was resting next to his walking cane on a bench in the middle of the bridge, and we met a dad with a beautiful baby girl in a stroller.
Then we walked past what looked like a yoga class in session on the west side of the bridge. It was the most ragtag group I'd ever seen, but they seemed to be enjoying learning their poses. Next to them sat two scruffy guys who were drinking who knows what out of a paper bagged bottle. One of them asked me if I was single and I laughed as we walked away (quickly).
It was shady and cool at the other end of the bridge, so I gave Lola some water and sat on a bench to read a few chapters of a Jane Austen book. Then it was time to go back.
We ran into three teenage kids who liked Lola. One of them asked me if I wanted to hear a song and I said yes. He pulled out a guitar and sang and played "No Rain" by Blind Melon and it was pretty good! He attracted a little crowd there on the bridge as he played.
After the song, we moved on, pausing to say hi to a family with two adorable little kids. They had cameras with them; obviously a perfect day and setting for some pictures.
We crossed the bridge and passed Red Seven again on the way back to the car. People looked so classy sitting on the patio under the square umbrellas, all dressed up for a special night out. The servers sailed around the tables removing and replacing big, square, steaming dishes that smelled irresistible.
We walked past the Lafayette Theater where a skinny guy in the ticket booth was eating a plate of noodles. I smiled at him and he smiled back. Then we went across the street and found the car. Lola climbed into my lap, which I usually don't allow when I'm driving. But this time I rolled my window down and let her hang her tongue out the window as we climbed 4th Street to the apartment buildings.
Now Lola is asleep, snoring her adorable pug snore on her little blue bed. I've got the living room window open. I can hear voices and dinner plates clinking through other open windows in the building. The crickets and every other insect in nature with a sound to make are creating little symphonies out in the woods. I love that sound.
Now it's dinner time and I know that as soon as I cross over the baby gate into the kitchen, Lola will wake up and start jumping around in anticipation of food. Then the sound of the skillet and the kitchen faucet will drown out the summer sounds coming through the window. Before I know it, it will be time for work.
So I'm going to hang on to this peaceful moment just a little bit longer.
But unfortunately, I don't possess that gift. So I'm just going to describe it to you.
Lola and I went for a walk downtown. It was perfect: sunny, comfortably cool, warm but not enough to break a sweat. Jeans and t-shirt (and scarf!) and sunglasses weather.
We took a lap around the courthouse square and passed the Java Roaster where there are ALWAYS people sitting around outside, which is one of the reasons I love the place so much. Today it was a friendly older man who gave Lola a good ear-scratch, a very school-of-ag looking student studying a text book, and a couple of biker dudes.
Lola and I turned the corner and headed toward the pedestrian bridge, passing Red Seven where people were enjoying the most scrumptious cuisine I have ever smelled. We decided to work up an appetite and started across the bridge.
As we climbed the depot stairs, a train passed underneath us, which is always fun for some reason. Lola looked so cute climbing up and down the stairways that got us to the pedestrian bridge. Something about those wrinkly little legs hopping steps and those perky little ears flopping and that pink tongue sticking out sideways just gets me!
We said hello to another older gentleman who was resting next to his walking cane on a bench in the middle of the bridge, and we met a dad with a beautiful baby girl in a stroller.
Then we walked past what looked like a yoga class in session on the west side of the bridge. It was the most ragtag group I'd ever seen, but they seemed to be enjoying learning their poses. Next to them sat two scruffy guys who were drinking who knows what out of a paper bagged bottle. One of them asked me if I was single and I laughed as we walked away (quickly).
It was shady and cool at the other end of the bridge, so I gave Lola some water and sat on a bench to read a few chapters of a Jane Austen book. Then it was time to go back.
We ran into three teenage kids who liked Lola. One of them asked me if I wanted to hear a song and I said yes. He pulled out a guitar and sang and played "No Rain" by Blind Melon and it was pretty good! He attracted a little crowd there on the bridge as he played.
After the song, we moved on, pausing to say hi to a family with two adorable little kids. They had cameras with them; obviously a perfect day and setting for some pictures.
We crossed the bridge and passed Red Seven again on the way back to the car. People looked so classy sitting on the patio under the square umbrellas, all dressed up for a special night out. The servers sailed around the tables removing and replacing big, square, steaming dishes that smelled irresistible.
We walked past the Lafayette Theater where a skinny guy in the ticket booth was eating a plate of noodles. I smiled at him and he smiled back. Then we went across the street and found the car. Lola climbed into my lap, which I usually don't allow when I'm driving. But this time I rolled my window down and let her hang her tongue out the window as we climbed 4th Street to the apartment buildings.
Now Lola is asleep, snoring her adorable pug snore on her little blue bed. I've got the living room window open. I can hear voices and dinner plates clinking through other open windows in the building. The crickets and every other insect in nature with a sound to make are creating little symphonies out in the woods. I love that sound.
Now it's dinner time and I know that as soon as I cross over the baby gate into the kitchen, Lola will wake up and start jumping around in anticipation of food. Then the sound of the skillet and the kitchen faucet will drown out the summer sounds coming through the window. Before I know it, it will be time for work.
So I'm going to hang on to this peaceful moment just a little bit longer.
Monday, August 24, 2009
there's a clog in my blog!
Now, I will admit that though I do attempt to dress in a snappy manner, I am by no means an expert-level fashionista. I'm still trying to figure out how to do that whole thing where you have an outfit that's one color and a pair of shoes that are a TOTALLY different color but it looks awesome? Know what I mean?
Well anyway...
I love shoes, for the most part. But one form of footwear for which I have a personal hatred is clogs. They are big, clunky, and totally impractical as they do not want to stay on your feet when you walk. Not to mention they don't look feminine AT ALL and they force the back of your pants to get awkwardly caught between your heel and the inside of your shoe, which is annoying. I have seen them slowly creeping back onto the shelves at shoe stores, trying to reinvent themselves as cute and versatile. But I won't be fooled. Clogs have no place in my closet.
So when I saw an advertisement for these on the sidebar of my facebook page, I was caught somewhere between amused and horrified:
And guess how much people pay to own these? $139! That's right, 139 American dollars for CLOGS!
You know what else you can buy for $139? These:
Why not invest that money a little more wisely and swap your cat clogs for some kitten heels? Please, people?!
Meow.
Well anyway...
I love shoes, for the most part. But one form of footwear for which I have a personal hatred is clogs. They are big, clunky, and totally impractical as they do not want to stay on your feet when you walk. Not to mention they don't look feminine AT ALL and they force the back of your pants to get awkwardly caught between your heel and the inside of your shoe, which is annoying. I have seen them slowly creeping back onto the shelves at shoe stores, trying to reinvent themselves as cute and versatile. But I won't be fooled. Clogs have no place in my closet.
So when I saw an advertisement for these on the sidebar of my facebook page, I was caught somewhere between amused and horrified:
And guess how much people pay to own these? $139! That's right, 139 American dollars for CLOGS!
You know what else you can buy for $139? These:
Why not invest that money a little more wisely and swap your cat clogs for some kitten heels? Please, people?!
Meow.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
I'm back, nerds!!!
OK, so I'm back from vacation (which was fabulous, by the way) and ready to do some blogging! And I've decided to set a new goal for my blogging habits. I think I went a little overkill this summer between starting a second blog, trying to keep up with three different shows, and editing video recaps. Then I got what I'm going to call an internet hangover, and didn't even end up writing a single finale recap for any of those shows. And I pretty much neglected this blog until I had to word vomit all over it before leaving for vacation.
So, new goal: I'm going to blog once a week on each blog. That's not too tough, right? Plus, people probably don't want to read a new post from me every day of their lives anyway, so this will make me easier for you lot to keep up with. AND best of all, it will give me more time to catch up with YOU!
OK, now that that's out of the way...
VACATION HIGHLIGHTS!
1. Flat tire!
Yes, my very first flat tire that really counts. (My old Neon got a flat in high school, but I was literally right in front of my house when it happened, so I got it up the driveway and into the garage where my dad changed it using power tools. Which is sooooo not the same thing as an actual, real-life flat tire!)
It happened about 40 miles before Rockford, Illinois and about 15 minutes before midnight. I had slept all day and was really hitting my groove behind the wheel, ready for a steady drive through the night. Marla and I had talked our way through Indiana and now she was asleep in the passenger seat and it was just me, Heidi (my GPS), and a mix of Jason Mraz, Lady Danville, and Sara B in the CD player. I was feeling good.
And then the tire went out.
I weakly hoped for a second that the flatulent sounds being made between my tires and the road were being caused by an unfinished repaving job, but I knew this wasn't the case, so I pulled over and woke up Marla, who got out to check the damage.
"Yep, you got a flat," she said.
OK, I thought, no problem! I had a can of tire inflator in the trunk -- easy fix! So we tried to fill the tire up with the inflation stuff, but it didn't work...which meant we'd actually have to change the tire. In the middle of the night. In the middle of I-39.
We called Dad, and between his instructions and some very vague illustrations in my car's owner manual, we got the tire changed by the light of cell phones and a full moon. There was no crying or yelling, which is impressive for our family, and I am proud to say I even called off the roadside assistance folks who were dispatched by my insurance company. Marla and I did it ourselves!
I'm also not embarrassed to say that at some point in the night, both of us peed on the side of the interstate. Ah-thank-you.
We made it to Rockford on the little donut tire and stayed in a hotel overnight so we could get new tires in the morning, making us late for our cousin's wedding in Minneapolis that afternoon. But we still made it to the reception!
Of course, by the time we got there, everyone had heard about the flat tire incident and was either pitying us or giving us a hard time about it. But you know what? I'm actually glad it happened, because now I know I can change a flat and live to tell the story! Ok, highlight number 2...
2. Reunited (and it feels so goo-ood!)
For the first time in years, both of my sisters and I were at the lake at the same time, which was very special! We are a very closeknit set of siblings, so when we get together it gets a little insane. My dad is always equal parts busting at the seams with happiness and driven up the wall with annoyance, because we as a group are a little obnoxious. When we get together, we almost speak in our own language largely made up of inside jokes, weird voices, and fits of laughter. This time around our language also included several Dorm Life references, including endless choruses of "Tabitha Darling" and many other Joshua Morgan quotes. One morning I was even awakened by the Morning Song a la Steph Schwartzman, courtesy of Marla. Like I said, very special.
3. My birthday!
My actual birthday was spent driving home from the lake, which kind of stunk, but it was also a lot of fun because Marla and I passed the time using the word "essspensive" as much as possible (example: "Oooh, that motorcycle looks essspensive!" or, "Gas is essspensive!") and talking/singing in high-pitched voices to get Lola to make faces at us from the back seat.
But my birthday celebration was Friday and it was fabulous. Michelle made some kind of cake made of Kahlua, coffee, and coconut (delicious), and we took it and a bucket of frozen margarita mix on the pontoon boat and cruised the lake as the sun went down. It was the second annual Cake and Cocktail Cruise (a tradition I founded last year)! I think next year I'm gonna make t-shirts.
And now I'm back, trying to get adjusted to my nocturnal schedule again and getting back into the swing of work. And this time of year I always get the urge to buy school supplies, even though I don't need to anymore! September is just around the corner, and with it the start of FOOTBALL SEASON! I can't wait.
See you next week, I promise!
<3 Lis
So, new goal: I'm going to blog once a week on each blog. That's not too tough, right? Plus, people probably don't want to read a new post from me every day of their lives anyway, so this will make me easier for you lot to keep up with. AND best of all, it will give me more time to catch up with YOU!
OK, now that that's out of the way...
VACATION HIGHLIGHTS!
1. Flat tire!
Yes, my very first flat tire that really counts. (My old Neon got a flat in high school, but I was literally right in front of my house when it happened, so I got it up the driveway and into the garage where my dad changed it using power tools. Which is sooooo not the same thing as an actual, real-life flat tire!)
It happened about 40 miles before Rockford, Illinois and about 15 minutes before midnight. I had slept all day and was really hitting my groove behind the wheel, ready for a steady drive through the night. Marla and I had talked our way through Indiana and now she was asleep in the passenger seat and it was just me, Heidi (my GPS), and a mix of Jason Mraz, Lady Danville, and Sara B in the CD player. I was feeling good.
And then the tire went out.
I weakly hoped for a second that the flatulent sounds being made between my tires and the road were being caused by an unfinished repaving job, but I knew this wasn't the case, so I pulled over and woke up Marla, who got out to check the damage.
"Yep, you got a flat," she said.
OK, I thought, no problem! I had a can of tire inflator in the trunk -- easy fix! So we tried to fill the tire up with the inflation stuff, but it didn't work...which meant we'd actually have to change the tire. In the middle of the night. In the middle of I-39.
We called Dad, and between his instructions and some very vague illustrations in my car's owner manual, we got the tire changed by the light of cell phones and a full moon. There was no crying or yelling, which is impressive for our family, and I am proud to say I even called off the roadside assistance folks who were dispatched by my insurance company. Marla and I did it ourselves!
I'm also not embarrassed to say that at some point in the night, both of us peed on the side of the interstate. Ah-thank-you.
We made it to Rockford on the little donut tire and stayed in a hotel overnight so we could get new tires in the morning, making us late for our cousin's wedding in Minneapolis that afternoon. But we still made it to the reception!
Of course, by the time we got there, everyone had heard about the flat tire incident and was either pitying us or giving us a hard time about it. But you know what? I'm actually glad it happened, because now I know I can change a flat and live to tell the story! Ok, highlight number 2...
2. Reunited (and it feels so goo-ood!)
For the first time in years, both of my sisters and I were at the lake at the same time, which was very special! We are a very closeknit set of siblings, so when we get together it gets a little insane. My dad is always equal parts busting at the seams with happiness and driven up the wall with annoyance, because we as a group are a little obnoxious. When we get together, we almost speak in our own language largely made up of inside jokes, weird voices, and fits of laughter. This time around our language also included several Dorm Life references, including endless choruses of "Tabitha Darling" and many other Joshua Morgan quotes. One morning I was even awakened by the Morning Song a la Steph Schwartzman, courtesy of Marla. Like I said, very special.
3. My birthday!
My actual birthday was spent driving home from the lake, which kind of stunk, but it was also a lot of fun because Marla and I passed the time using the word "essspensive" as much as possible (example: "Oooh, that motorcycle looks essspensive!" or, "Gas is essspensive!") and talking/singing in high-pitched voices to get Lola to make faces at us from the back seat.
But my birthday celebration was Friday and it was fabulous. Michelle made some kind of cake made of Kahlua, coffee, and coconut (delicious), and we took it and a bucket of frozen margarita mix on the pontoon boat and cruised the lake as the sun went down. It was the second annual Cake and Cocktail Cruise (a tradition I founded last year)! I think next year I'm gonna make t-shirts.
And now I'm back, trying to get adjusted to my nocturnal schedule again and getting back into the swing of work. And this time of year I always get the urge to buy school supplies, even though I don't need to anymore! September is just around the corner, and with it the start of FOOTBALL SEASON! I can't wait.
See you next week, I promise!
<3 Lis
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