Love Bug

23 03 2012

Last September I reached a major milestone in my life:  I celebrated my ten-year anniversary with someone who over the years had been a completely reliable, sturdy companion, protecting me from a plethora of dangerous situations.  Despite a steely exterior she is really quite soft on the inside, and she has taken me rather far in life.  Although our honeymoon stage elapsed long ago, up until a few months ago it was hard to imagine my life without my little love bug – literally my bug – as in Volkswagen Beetle.  Come on, you didn’t really think this was my way of telling the world I had, until recently, been in a ten-year long secret lesbian relationship, did you?  A side note: To Rafael, one of the hall monitors of my freshman year college dormitory – One wrestling match with your roommate which concludes in you simultaneously straddling her, pinning her to the ground with one arm, and aiming a bottle of Febreeze at her face with the other does NOT make us lesbians, thank you very much.

The Bug and I

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I Have Poise, I Have Grace, Oh Wait… I’ve Fallen On My Face.

30 11 2011

Most embarrassing moments aren’t all that bad in retrospect for the pure and simple reason that they, as the name suggests, last just a moment.  The moment occurs, the victim is mortified, and then it’s over, existing only as a memory in the minds of those who witnessed it.  For the truly unfortunate, however, those uncomfortable moments are captured on video, and are visually relived every time the video is replayed.  Unlike memories, these images don’t fade over time.  Lucky for me, my family didn’t have a video camera until late high school, and we pretty much only used it for school projects, so there weren’t too many embarrassing events captured on the home front (except of course, the time my sister arrived home from getting her wisdom teeth removed, running around like a loony with drool and chocolate milkshake dangling from her chin.  She was a disaster).  The one place where I wasn’t safe from the prying lens of the camera – indeed, none of my friends were, were the professionally video-recorded dance recitals, which took place every year of my life from 4th through 12th grade.

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My Love Affair with Laughing Gas

23 11 2011

I have always been rather shy and prone to introversion.  While this statement should come as no shock to almost all of my high school classmates, who I fear mistook my quiet demeanor for arrogance and a general dislike for them (excluding of course, my close friends, who mainly just though I was crazy), a larger proportion of those who went to college with me may find this statement harder to believe.  I am actually rather boisterous and ridiculous once I warm up to people, but the warming up part can be a lengthy, painful (at least for me) process.  I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone in college in terms of talking to others, but sadly this kind of behavior is not second nature to me.  This is probably why I LOVED laughing gas so much growing up.

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Life Lessons From the Oregon Trail

28 09 2011

My life on the Oregon Trail was a perilous one.  One minute I was living the life of a trailblazing adventurer; I hunted so much bison and deer as to single handedly lead to the endangerment of their species, only able to carry a fraction of my haul back to my trusty wooden covered wagon.   The next minute I was at death’s door, battling measles, snakebites, dysentery, typhoid, cholera, you name it!  Ok… so maybe the only real malady that I was actually fighting was the ever looming carpal tunnel syndrome from too many hours seated at our old PC playing Oregon Trail 2, but you get the picture.  This was not a lifestyle for the feeble.  Out on the trail, I had to make life and death decisions every day.  Do I use a tourniquet on my snake bite?  Do I ford the river or caulk the wagon wheels?  I learned pretty quickly the life skills I needed to survive after a few tragic river fording accidents.  I never would have guessed at the age of 10 that over 15 years later I would find myself in the midst of a real life “fording the river” incident gone wrong.  Where were those skills I learned long ago on the Trail when I needed them most?  The thing is, the Oregon Trail game never explained what you were supposed to do when visibility was so low you couldn’t even see the river you were about to ford.  And so begins the tale of the predicament I found myself in just a few months ago…

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A (Baked) Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor Away (or not…)

17 08 2011

Getting sick is awful no matter where you are – but when it happens in another country nearly five thousand miles from your mother and the comfort of your own bed, it somehow seems a million times worse.  While I was studying abroad in Seville, Spain my sophomore year of college, I came down with a mysterious illness that left me bed/bathroom-ridden for a week.  At once I perfectly understood how a dog must feel chained in the yard, except instead of being tethered to a tree or doghouse, my anchor was a toilet from which I could never get more than 20 feet away lest I experience a very embarrassing public explosion Bridesmaids style.  If you’ve seen the movie, you know what I’m talking about: the hilariously cringe-worthy wedding dress fitting/ bridesmaids dress shopping scene – if I would have left the safety of the apartment I imagine I would have found myself in a similar predicament.  And so I quarantined myself to my house mom Maria Jose’s (we called her MJ for short) tiny apartment.  Like clockwork, every thirty minutes I visited the porcelain throne to empty the liquidized contents of my bowels.  After excusing myself twice in the middle of lunch on the first day of my illness to relieve myself, MJ finally started to catch on that something was amiss.

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Bottoms Away!

6 08 2011

One summer during high school my parents finally gave in to the collective pleas of my sister and I to bring one friend each with us on vacation to a beach right outside of Destin, Florida.  The trip was one of the more relaxing trips ever taken by my family.  My mom was sick at the time, and didn’t have the energy to plan non-stop excursions like many of our other vacations, which much to my delight left ample time to lounge at the beach and catch some much needed rays.  One such day Maggie, Lauren, Amy, and I spent the morning relaxing poolside, took a break for lunch, and then sauntered out to the beach to continue basking in the sun.  Amy and I occupied ourselves quietly reading on our towels, which apparently wasn’t as exciting of an afternoon as my sister and Maggie had in mind.  In all their mischievous glory, Lauren and Maggie (henceforth known as team Sandy-Hands) began pelting Amy and I with a relentless barrage of fistfuls of sand.  I rapidly weighed my options.  I could retaliate with my own sand attack, but that would mean stooping to her level and I was better than that.  I could pretend not to notice while every crevice slowly filled with the gritty sand and hope that they would soon grow tired (unlikely).  Clearly, team Sandy-Hands was oblivious to social etiquette and not likely to be reasoned with, which left only one option – I hoisted myself up and ran at top speed in the opposite direction.  Amy followed my lead, with Lauren and Maggie hot on our heels.  Now I don’t pride myself on being a runner.  In fact I practically get winded just walking up a flight of stairs.  So I did not have high expectations of being able to outrun Maggie the soccer star and keep up with Amy the cross country/track extraordinaire.  Yet there I was, flying across the stretch of beach, practically untouchable.  After a while I began to sense that my pursuers were no longer pursuing me, and glancing to my left Amy was no longer running alongside me.  I stopped abruptly and turned around to see all three of them rolling on the sand, clutching their stomachs and gasping for air between fits of laughter.

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Bird Man

3 08 2011

Something I didn’t know in high school or college that is probably obvious even to 5 year olds, but somehow eluded me:  If you would rather kiss a walrus than kiss your boyfriend, maybe you shouldn’t be dating.  This might seem fairly logical, yet nonetheless when I was in college I found myself making up excuses to avoid kissing my then boyfriend at the time, diving and ducking like a professional dodgeball player when the end of the night came.  This should have set off some red flags for me (and my boyfriend at the time as well)… as should have a number of other incidents that occurred in our 3 month long “relationship,” but alas he was my first boyfriend and I had a hard time letting go.  He was also my friend for a year before we started dating, which made ending things extra tricky.

Bird Man (his name has been changed to protect his identity), if you ever read this, you really are a sweet guy, so please don’t take these stories as an assault on your character, but rather a celebration of our best moments!  I wouldn’t change a thing.

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