Saturday, May 24, 2008

I love this boy

When Ryan answers the phone:

First ring-
Strange man- "Is this the vetinarian hospital?"
Ryan- "No sir, it is not. I'm afraid you have the wrong number."

Second ring, 2 minutes later-
Same strange man- "Is this the vetinarian hospital?"
Ryan- "No sir. You're calling the wrong number."

3rd ring, 1 minute later-
Same freaking strange man- "Is this the vetinarian hospital?"
Ryan- "Yes sir, it is."
S.F.S.M. -"Well finally! I've called this number 3 times, and it kept being the wrong number." (!!!)
Ryan- "Well, this time it's the right number. I'm glad you kept calling it."
S.F.S.M.- "I need to bring my dog in. Can I make an appointment or something?"
Ryan- "Oh you don't have to do that. We're having a slow day. Just bring him on in."
S.F.S.M.- "Really? Well, alright."
Ryan- "But don't take too long. We close in about 30 minutes." (It was 9 AM)
S.F.S.M.- "Oh! I will be there in just few minutes! Thanks!"
Ryan- "You are very welcome."

I thought I would pee in my pants, I laughed so hard.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Do you have any super glue? I'm sliding.

Today, I got to do something I have always wanted to do. I rode a motorcycle. Seriously. Jim was in town for the wedding and he brought his "crotch rocket" (sorry Amanda Hannah). So after school today I drove to his grandmother's house and he took me out. Oh my gosh. We walked out to it and he pulled out these little metal spikes for my feet and handed me a helmet. My seat was probably 8 inches wide and maybe 16 inches long. I hiked myself up to my perch and looked around. Handles? Seat belt? Rope? Anything? "Oh, you just hold onto me," he said. Holy crap. What if you have a sunstroke?! What do I hold onto then? But, I didn't say this. I am practicing submitting. And submitting sucks. I climbed up to my seat.

Yes, my seat is that strip of metal hovering over the back wheel. But I got up on it. And prayed. He looked back at me before flipping down his visor and said, "You've never ridden, right? Just lean with me on the curves. Don't lean the opposite way. That will mess me up." Mess you up? Which means it will also mess me up, right? I really like my epidermis. I hoped that keeping it was on God's agenda.
And away we went. I leaned. And bit my lip. And gripped the gum size foot rests with my toes, Jim with my knees, and ignored my screaming quadripceps. When he would shift gears, I was worried I was going to slide down and take him out. Lean right. Lean left. Don't look at the speedometer. It was a long 15 minutes. But, I am not a pansy. I wouldn't ever tell him to stop. But as the ride continued, it got easier. My legs relaxed and only tensed when I needed them to. I figured out how to use my human handle (hand on the stomach, one on the back ... I felt like I was administering some weird form of CPR). I didn't want to stop. Once the adrenaline starts rushing and the wind is whipping your t-shirt around it is an amazing experiece. I refused to think about my Dad's horror stories ( he told them to me 15 minutes before I got to the house). You enjoy the ride so much more when you're exposed like that. In my car, I have my radio, my cellphone, or people. Our conversation was limited to our briefs stops, and, of course, cellphones wouldn't fit into the helmet. And Jim is amazing at figuring out where the heck we are... because Brushy Creek people don't believe in road signs.
After 2 hours of Smith Lake highways, I guess asking for more would have been a little demanding. And I had to get back to my online course anyway. Stink. I think I want a motorcycle.
No... never mind. I just want to ride. I had a blast! Thanks so much, Jim! Whenever you need a riding buddy, just let me know.

Friday, May 16, 2008

For Her

What is it like to know that tomorrow you will be getting married? How does it feel to kiss your parents good-night one last time? You look so calm. How can you be?! It's midnight and you're writing thank you notes! I'm blogging. We should go to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day.
But, I don't want to. I want to watch you for a little longer. Tomorrow night, dear heart of my hearts, you will not be sleeping alone. Are you freaking out? No? Well, I am adequately freaked out for you and me combined. You looked beautiful tonight, even though you did sit in something. Sweet sister, I love you. Whenever Jeff has to go out of town, will you come sleep on my trundle?
Good. You're going to bed. No ceremony, you say. Just good night. You cannot cry. But you cannot sleep either. You're just lying there, twisting your hair, staring at the ceiling. But I will cry. Seriously, I never knew how weepy this girl could be. I would have made it without crying tonight when I was making my "speech" except I looked at Dad and saw that walrus mustache quivering. Then Pepaw wiped his eyes. And my cup ran over.
So, here's to you and the glorious years ahead of you. Because I can't be eloquent right now.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

i'm right here. And i'm about to get ear plugs.

I want to post something, but I can't hear myself think because you're talking too loud.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

May the script be with you

I'm watching Return of the Jedi. The old ones are amazing. Because George Lucas actually paid someone to write good dialogue, instead of depending on his mind-mystifying computer animated special effects.

"What did he say? R2! You're playing the wrong message!"

"The Great Jabba the Hutt says you are to be terminated. Immediately."
"Good. I hate long waits."

"There's nothing to see. I used to live here you know."
"You're going to die here you know. Convenient."

"A Jedi Knight?! Geez. I'm out of it for a little while and everyone has delusions of grandeur."

Basically, I just love Han Solo.


Three times in the past week I have hurled myself from the bed into the shower. I don't know how I do it because the shower is through a door and around the corner. I should probably call an Olympian official to watch this feat. I didn't oversleep once all last semester and 3 times in the last 7 days I have. Once I accidently set the alarm for 4:50 PM instead of AM. Brilliant. Another time I accidently hit the "off" button instead of the snooze. And the third time I was staying with a friend and was planning on getting up when she did. But she overslept. So, we were both catapulted off of the mattress...towards suitcases and the bathroom. I would love to see the activity on a brain monitor when the lateness of the clock registers in my gray matter. I sit up and I know that something is not right. Like a friend said at school when he overslept for clinicals, "It's light outside. It shouldn't be light outside." I glance at the clock and 6:01 blinks back sleepily. Double take. Triple take. Wait 2 seconds for the adrenaline to be adequately pumped to all launching muscles... and SHOOM! into the shower. Cold cold cold! Too hot! Too hot! Soap in the eyes. No time to shave. No time to condition. Get out out out!! Can't dry hair! Can't make bed! Put on makeup! Breathe. And vow never to do this again.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

To be a woman

"It's a strange thing, but somehow we expect more of girls than of boys. It is the sisters and wives and mothers, you know, Caddie, who keep the world sweet and beautiful. What a rough world it would be if there were only men and boys in it,doing things in their rough way! A woman's task is to teach them gentleness and courtesy and love and kindness. It's a big task, too, Caddie-harder than cutting trees or building mills or damming rivers. It takes nerve and courage and patience, but good women have those things. They have them just as much as the men who build bridges and carve roads throught the wilderness. A woman's work is something fine and noble to grow up to, and it is just as important as a man's. But no man could ever do it so well. I don't want you to be the silly, affected person with fine clothes and manners whom folks sometimes call a lady. No, that is not what I want for you, my little girl. I want you to be a woman with a wise and understanding heart, healthy in body and honest in mind. Do you think you would like to be growing up into that woman now? How about it, Caddie, have we run with the colts long enough?"

Monday, May 5, 2008


When girls name underwear:
Poke Me, No Secrets, Bohemian Rhapsody, Let's Make Babies Blue, Chiquita Girl, Blue Steele, Banana Split, French Maid, Indian Princess, Sneak-a-Peek, Seaside Surprise, Sweet and Sexy, 3 Days Off, Chocolate Rain and Sailor's Delight.

Dibs to everyone for not buying anything from Victoria's Secret. What the "secret" is, I do not know. Because the woman definetly doesn't hide anything.
You're never too old for a funny face picture. Thank you all for not making the "pucker" face. Because it's just plain annoying.

She'll probably make me take this one down.

And we had way too much food left over.