Two Phone Conversations

Yes, I'm blogging in class. I've stooped to a new all time low. I've recently had two phone conversations with people that perfectly summarize either the person or my relationship with them. I was going to post them separately, but why should I do a silly thing like that.

The first is with my mom, and it was in regards to my need for a new mixer. For those of you that don't know, my mom is the bargain shopping guru. There's been several times when she's actually bought something and gotten store credit because after they tally all her discounts and coupons and whatever, they realize that they owe her money. So I thought I'd ask her to keep an eye out for a new mixer for me.

Me: Hey, I really want a kitchenaid artisan mixer, preferably in a color that goes along with my kitchen stuff. Can you watch for one on sale for me?
My mom: why?
Me: well, I really hate mine and so I talked to some people, and they recommended the kitchenaid one.
My mom: I know everyone has one, but why do you need one? what's wrong with your current mixer?
Me: (I outline all the reasons previously posted about my hatred for my mixer including that it smells like it's burning sometimes)
My mom: All mixers do that.

This is my typical mom. Just hating something is not a good reason to buy a new one. It has to physically not work before you can spend money on another one and even sometimes when it doesn't work as long as it works "good enough" you still don't need a new one. Looks like I'm on my own for a new mixer.

The next conversation is with Danielle and was part of our almost daily "i'm driving home from work and know you are a student and have nothing to do, so I'll call you" conversation.

Danielle: I just got your...birthday present in the mail. I almost just accidentally told you what it was. (yes, my birthday is in December, but she had to buy something and will hopefully not forget she has it, unlike my pins that she got me at the Rose Bowl a year ago and still has)
Later in the conversation....
Danielle: I got my mom something from Lenox too, but it's on back order.
Me: My birthday present is from Lenox?
Danielle: Whore.
I laugh hysterically.
Danielle: I didn't tell you I got your present from Lenox (at this point, she's trying, not very well, to cover up her mistake.)
Me: No, but you just got my birthday present in the mail and then you said "too".
Danielle: Why do you have to be such a f***ing bitch?

And that's my friendship with danielle, though I have to say the "oatmeal conversation" summarizes it even better.

Handbell Bitterness

When I lived in Indiana, I was in my church's handbell choir. I loved it and don't mind saying was freakin' awesome at it. They gave me the toughest bells they had (A flat, A, B flat, B just above middle C), and I kicked major ass. Then I moved to PA and boo, no handbells. My church in North Carolina just decided to restart their handbell choir, and I was totally psyched. I signed up and even ditched bidding on my friend at the school's "date" auction to go to the first rehearsal (because you can only miss on rehearsal per season...yes, handbells have seasons.)

But God screwed me over. (hi. one way ticket to hell please. Yes, I'm the girl that said God screwed me on my blog.) I show up and apparently because I have played flute and am considered a "temporary" ringer (though I would argue I'm as temporary as some of the elder members of the choir) they gave me the highest bells they have. Even after I told them I could handle twice as many bells as the other members, I honestly play like four notes for an entire song. There is actually a song where I don't play at all. I spent the entire practice turning pages and telling the woman beside me when to play. Because, did I mention, she doesn't read music? (is that the C? No, that's A. Do I play A? No, you play C and B.) Really? You gave her better bells than me? Really? Anyway, I'm really bitter. Joy thinks there's probably some bribery taking place under the table, so we'll see if I can move up the bell choir hierarchy.

The Princess and the Mixer

Once upon a time, in a land far away there lived a beautiful princess. This beautiful (and also witty, intelligent, and humble) princess loved to make magical cookies for all of her subjects. When the princess was just fair maiden, her thoughtful (and somewhat thrifty) mother the queen had given her a mixer from the land of Sunbeam so that she could make lots of magical cookies for everyone (and also as a sign for the princess to get out of the queen's castle and find a kingdom of her own).

The princess was very appreciative, but could not have known that the mixer had been cursed and an evil plot was at foot to take down the awesome princess. Whenever the princess would try to use her mixer it would refuse to mix (thus substantially increasing mixing time). It also had stupid crevices in the beaters which would get magical cookie dough stuck in them and be a pain in the royal ass when the princess tried to wash them. The mixer also would scare the princess when it would sound/smell like it was going to explode/catch on fire. Sometimes the mixer would even become possessed and though it normally spun counter clockwise would all of the sudden decide it would spin ridiculously fast the other way. Just in general it was a shitty mixer.

However, the princess was torn. Her royal treasury was somewhat depleted from general upkeep of her castle (and a somewhat moderate shoe addiction), and knows that a mixer truly worthy of gracing her castle would cost a hefty sum. She loves to grace her subjects with magic cookies, but her accursed mixer (along with her tiny and finicky oven) is making her want to lose her royal mind.

How can this beautiful/funny/smart/caring/creative princess break free from the evil mixer? To be continued...

Letter from the Hell Hole

At Joy's request (the first official b-school person to explore my blog), I'm posting this in the little break between my interview and the wine tasting Happy Hour.

"Well, I'm back in the hell hole (Harrisburg or prison? jk Harrisburg people). I got denied the SIP program because the fight i was in (shocking) which is ridiculous (is it? is it really that ridiculous that you got kicked out of your treatment program for fighting?) but oh well everything happens for a reason. I really didn't want to do that program. (that's what losers say when they don't get something they really want. 'I really wouldn't have known what to do with a million dollars anyway.')

I hope you can figure out where to go for spring break (thinking warm...thinking warm). you should go to Mexico, its pretty cheap there! (so...if you ever go on the run, I'm thinking they should get a notice out to the border patrol?) I want to go to cancun for springbreak sometime so I can be on MTV and meet some rappers. (in the words of my mom 'you have to actually have a springbreak to go on springbreak).

How much is a normal gym membership? when I come home I want to join a gym with tanning beds so I can shape up and tan. (really? your big concern when you get out of jail is getting a tan? Someone's been watching too much Jersey Shore. GTL, baby. GTL.) I've been in jail for 14 months now (14 months of fantastic letters). I'm going crazy. If you have ever have a chance and you take some pictures of the campus and your apartment and send em to me (so I can case the joint and rob you when I get out)? Well I guess I'm gonna go. Miss you."

Fun times... fun times.

Things That Annoy Me

I purchased my own jingly hip scarf. I just got it in the mail today. Also today, I found out my gym took belly dancing off the calendar. GRRR

The Giant Check

This weekend is the Wake Forest marketing summit...which is AWESOME. I was on the kickoff committee. Kickoff is the first event of the weekend. When they were cleaning up after, they asked if anyone would be going to the school the next day to take the trophy and giant prize check. I said I would (and they thought I was actually a responsible person), so they gave them to me. It then rained the whole day, so I was driving around with a giant check in my backseat for a whole day ala Happy Gilmore because I didn't want it to get wet. I really wanted to go in a store and ask if they took checks. Plop it down on the counter and ask if they could break $50,000...I didn't though.

Tonight's the last event of the marketing summit. I'm exhausted and my feet hurt, but I can't wait for next year! (Stay tuned because I just got a letter in the mail from you know who.)