Thursday, January 22, 2009


I had a real life Twilight Zone happen to me the other week.  
     It was a dark and stormy night.  I casually walked to Doree's front door to retrieve her for the impending adventures that evening and made note that she lived in apartment 101.  "Hmm...I daresay that is a palindrome," said I to myself.  Feeling an instant bond with the apartment (as my name is also spelled the same forwards and backwards), I smiled as Doree shut the door behind her.  "Evening," said she.  I tipped my hat to her and we were on our way.  
Then a terrible conflict arose.  "Dear me," I said.  "I am hungry."  My other associates in the back of the car seconded that emotion but nobody could think up a place to dine.  Then, as if some other power overtook us, we all agreed on Quiznos.  
As I was engaged in the cheery conversation that surrounded me, I glanced at the address on the door of Quiznos.  By golly in adhesive numbers it read 101 left to right.  And right to left.  "This cannot be happening," I muttered under my breath. 
After a jovial time at Quiznos, we exited unaware of the unusual happenings before us.  We entered the car and, as my snot was frozen inside my nose and tremors took hold of my frigid body, my eyes naturally wandered over to the temperature indicator.  No, it was not 101 degrees, BUT there were exactly 101 miles left before the car would need more gas.  
I recounted the story to my associates who patronized me for a small moment with their "oohs," and "ahhs,"  just as I expect of you.  It's crazy but true.  Stranger than fiction.  101% unbelievable but 101% real.  

DMV? More like suck away your youth and destroy your self-esteem.

I am currently on hold for the DMV to renew my license. Who would have thought that the wait music they play could make sweet little me so angry? I'm tellin' you. There isn't anything in the whole world that gets me as frustrated as smooth jazz. It's right up there with the word "b**ger" ewwww... and getting sweaters stuck on your head. Ooh, or stepping in a puddle on the kitchen floor wearing socks.
I am twenty-one years and two days old today. I really can't concentrate with this smooth jazz playing. It's been 27 minutes already. Now 29 minutes. I feel like I am lost in a Full House episode. Cut-it-out.
I finally talked to a lady. She made me feel like Danny feels when DJ tells him she doesn't want him to sing in front of her friends. I had forgotten how small and dumb I was. It was nice of her to bring that to my attention.
That reminds me. I had a little trouble paying attention in class today. Unfortunately, when I was switching hands to lean my face on, my teacher thought I was trying to answer the question. I had no idea what the question was and had to ask him to repeat it. The other kids laughed at me. Like that happens in college. Anyways, I still had no idea what he was talking about when he repeated it so I just muttered something like "education means money, like, you know, you've got a lot of it so you are realistic and um... cuz when you understand stuff you, uhhh...appreciate it. So, social class plays a role." Then the teacher gave me that, "that has nothing to do with what I asked but I am going to try to keep speaking to you and moving my hands as if you said something of value" face. I really need to learn that face before I become a teacher.
On my birthday I got a package that they stuffed so tightly in the mailbox I couldn't pull it out. After literally ten minutes of pulling at it, which ruined my hair by the way, I had to destroy it with my mail key and pull out the contents. Wouldn't you know it... the empty box was still stuck in there. Doree had to drive over and pull it out for me. Must have been a sword in the stone thing. What a champ.
I guess I can conclude that my 21 years has taught me that DMV workers are all-knowing, when in doubt use phrases like "social class" and "you know what I mean," Doree is taller, stronger, and smarter than I am, and smooth jazz still sucks.