Thursday, November 14, 2013

even i didn't know if i could tie together jail, lizards, and candles

A few days ago when I logged into my Facebook account, I saw a status from a guy that I knew in college.  It said something along the lines of, “I was unsure if I should share this information or not, but in the event that anyone has been wondering where I’ve been the last seven days, I’ve been in prison, and it was the most humbling experience of my life.


WELL, A HEARTY WELCOME BACK TO THE FREE WORLD TO YOU, SIR.


Apparently if you spend several years ignoring numerous parking tickets and a noise violation, the long arm of the law will reach out and incarcerate you.  


Note to self: Look into that old noise violation.


Oh, I kid.  I never got a noise violation in college myself, but I did spend sophomore year living in an apartment complex across the street from a pizza shop that sold $1.00 slices and banged a gong for every slice sold after midnight.


I know what you’re thinking.


That is some SOLID GOLD real estate.


That was also the same apartment that had Murphy beds and if I’m being honest, I do miss saying, “well, I guess it’s time to go pull my tiny bed out of the wall.” 

 So while I haven’t exactly spent the last seven days in incarceration like Mr. Noise Violator, I have spent them on the phone with my doctor’s office and a medical device company and earlier this afternoon STEAM ACTUALLY CAME OUT OF MY EARS.  After being transferred from one person to another and sitting on hold for the better part of an hour, the woman who was helping me said, “Let me transfer you to customer service and they can take it from here.


As soon as I was transferred I launched into my well rehearsed “Hi, this is Laura and INSERT MEDICAL SAGA HERE,” and the woman on the other line said, “I’m so sorry but I think you have the wrong number, this a commercial trucking company.”


WELL OF COURSE IT IS.


After I was sufficiently frustrated, Matt and I went out to dinner.  I chose Friendly’s because my culinary palate is very sophisticated.  As we were standing in line at the hostess station, Matt gave the ice cream freezer the once over and then with a sparkle in his eye said, “Do you want to just skip the dinner part, and instead buy an ice cream cake and go back to your apartment and eat the whole thing?”
 

I’ve never loved him more.


But I had a hankering for a munchie mania platter and so we soldiered on in the name of build your own burgers and mozzarella sticks.  


On the way home we drove by Petsmart and in a fit of spontanaeity decided to stop in.  We just wanted to look at the animals but before we went in we agreed that we are NOT currently in the market for any sort of pet.  We browsed the fish aisle for a few minutes and then I wandered over to the rodent department.  I was examining a chinchilla when I looked up to see Matt a few aisles over, ARMS OVERFLOWING with a glass tank and various supplies and equipment.  

 “Whatcha got going on down there?” I asked.


“Oh,” Matt said thoughtfully, “Well...I thought I might get a lizard.”

I will spare you the cliff hanger and tell you that we left the store lizard-less mainly because GROSS.  Although I am not above the impulse pet purchase, as in, during my senior year of college I bought a guinea pig and named her Winnie.


OH I WAS SO CLEVER. 

Winnie lasted about a week in our apartment before my roommates and I cut some airholes in a shoebox, packed Winnie inside, called a cab to take us to Petco, and returned Winnie to the establishment from whence she came.

Because a guinea pig at any price isn't a bargain.


Do you know what is a bargain?  The 2 for $22 candles at Bath and Body Works.  Last night Michelle and I went to the mall and stocked up on some Christmas scents, and then celebrated our purchases with dinner at Plaza Azteca because Feliz Navidad!

We are currently burning fresh balsam and evergreen candles, and our apartment smells like a woodland forest.

Which is a lot better than smelling like a lizard.  

Or a guinea pig.

Or, I'd imagine, a jail. 

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Monday, November 4, 2013

if anyone has the answer to the titanic question, i'm all ears

A few weeks Emily and I went to a Switchfoot concert.  

Emily is a serious Switchfoot fan.  In contrast, the only Switchfoot songs I know are the ones from the movie A Walk To Remember.  My knowledge includes, but is not limited to, the following verse in their song "Someday We'll Know" which ends with what is quite possibly the most thought provoking lyric OF ALL TIME:

Whatever happened to Amelia Earhart?
Who holds the stars up in the sky?
Is true love just once in a lifetime?
Did the captain of the Titanic cry?


Deep.

I am quite certain I spent no less than 100 hours between the ages of 12 and 14 pondering that last question.

Things started off on a less than perfect note the night of the concert because there was absolutely no parking near the theater.  It was dark and raining outside, and the streets were all one-way and very crowded and HELLO, MY NAME IS LAURA AND I CANNOT PARALLEL PARK.

Eventually I found a nice, big spot on a residential street approximately 4.7 miles from the theater.  It was perfect really because who doesn't love a brisk walk on a dark, cold, rainy night?

Emily, that's who.  She was not thrilled with the trek that we faced but things started to look up when we  finally (and I do mean finally) made it inside the theater and discovered that our seats were in the second row like we were some sort of VIPs.  The theater is very old and was evidently constructed during a time when people were itty bitty little things because WOW, WHAT SMALL SEATS YOU HAVE.

Things were tight and I had a feeling we were going to become very familiar with our neighbors.

The first half of the show was a documentary about the band, who hails from California.  The woman seated next to Emily felt it necessary to scream SAN DIEGO at every point during the movie when California was mentioned.  Meanwhile, the gentleman who was sitting next to me was, as my dad likes to say, taking his half out of the middle in the armrest department.

However, he was not yelling LOS ANGELES so, WIN.

The movie portion ended and after a quick intermission, the band took the stage for the show.

Everyone got on their feet for the first song and that's when it began.

The clapping.

The man next to me start clapping with more vigor than I can even put into words.  And he didn't just clap with his hands.  He clapped with his entire body.  I didn't know it was possible to clap with your knees but oh, he did it.  I've never seen anything like it.  

A few minutes into song numero uno, I kind of crouched down in an effort to avoid his elbows, and that's when I realized that he was wearing basketball shorts and a button down shirt in the pattern of the American.  It was very appropriate considering his wingspan was probably comparable to that of the national bird of the Unites States of America. 

I stayed in the strategic crouch position during a particularly upbeat song when the clapping was in FULL FORCE, and that's when I saw that Mr. Clapper was not wearing shoes.  

BARE. FEET.

Lest you think Emily was having an easier go of it next to me, her neighbor screamed SAN DIEGOOOO an average of one to three times.

Per song.

Between my bare foot, enthusiastically clapping neighbor, and SAN DIEGOOOOO, the concert was one to remember and it certainly gave us a LOT to laugh about, which worked out because that is my favorite thing to do.

And Emily looked like this the entire time.

So it was worth sitting in the line of fire.
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