My Parents Leave for Australia

This is going to be a serious post for once. I apologize for my readers who only want the funny, ridiculous posts. This is more of a post to just inform everyone of what's going on in my life. Over Thanksgiving my parents are going to Australia for two weeks for a wedding of my dad's Southeast Asia Sales Director (or some such person). When I first heard this news, it really really upset me. As an only child, I really saw it as my dad picking his work over me (whether that is really fair to him or not). There's been a fairly long history of his work coming first is my life and this was just one big final blow. It's Thanksgiving!

Anyway, it is what it is. I'm going to make the best of it and go back to PA which should lead to lots to post about. It may or may not include: my cousin getting out of prison, a visit to the Girl Scout office, going to Chuck E Cheese with Stefanie and her kids, 21 people at Thanksgiving dinner, 5 am black Friday Wal-mart shopping, wedding planning with Amanda and last but certainly not least my 10 year high school reunion. Unfortunately I'll be staying with my grandma who does not have internet, so most of this will probably have to wait until I get back to be blogged about. I'll take good notes though and try to throw in some pictures.

My Fashion Czar

A couple of weeks ago I went to a guest speaker that talked about the importance of having a mentor. She actually suggested that you should have a "round table" of mentors. (eg: an industry mentor, a personal life mentor, a career mentor, etc.) I've decided that I'm naming czars instead of mentors because any word with a "z" is infinitely cool.

One of the czars that I've gotten the most use out of is my "fashion czar" Marcia. Marcia has been my go to fashion consultant since we roomed together in college, now she just has a cool title to go along with it. I pretty much listen to whatever she says (though some ideas I understand but totally veto...aka leggings as pants). Recently we had an e-mail correspondence regarding my attire for my upcoming high school reunion:

Me: Ok, fashion czar....I have my 10 year high school reunion in 2 weeks. What do I wear? Please keep in mind that this is in Middletown, PA at a bar and that the invitation actually had written on it "please no hats or sneakers." ha
Marcia: some sort of business-casual dress. That's my first reaction. Hold, pls, and I will find some photographic evidence.
Marcia: are you a member of ruelala.com?
Me:No, I'm not...what is it?
Marcia: oh good god.

And that's why I need a fashion czar...especially a fashion czar that lives in NYC. I'm in Winston-Salem, not exactly a fashion mecca. Today I ordered a dress online for $14.99...let's just hope it comes in time, fits, and is not totally ugly....my mom on the other hand told me to wear nothing to my reunion. "It just says no hats or sneakers. It doesn't say you have to wear clothes." Funny, mom, funny.

Things That Annoy Me

The Wake Forest Demon Deacon...Done...End Post

Ok, not really. I actually kinda like the Demon Deacon (he looks kinda stoned...so that's fun). I mean he's no leprechaun, but really who is? But what bothers me about the Demon Deacon is his costume. His bowtie is actually attached to the head part of the costume rather than the outfit part of the costume. So when he looks right or left or up or down the bowtie moves with his head since its attached to the chin. That's just stupid. Just attach it to the costume...problem solved.

Danielle's Visit: Days 2 & 3

I should probably be ironing my clothes or something else more productive, but I'm not. I'm blogging before I lose my motivation.

On Danielle's 2nd day of visiting, nothing really happened. I woke up at 12:45 and discovered that she had fallen asleep with the TV on so I snuck out to turn it off. Then at 5:50 my power went out and was off for about ten minutes, so I got up, located my cell phone and set my alarm....anyway, i didn't sleep very well.

I went to class...yadda yadda yadda...I came home and Danielle and I went to dinner and then to Wal-mart so that she could get an REO Speedwagon CD for her boss. Really the only thing of note that happened was Danielle started to say something about rednecks and then was like "nevermind...I forgot where I was."

Day 3 was of course the big day. Again, I went to class, and I had a review session for my quant class. I began to regret making the decision to go to the concert, but then I resolved to stick with my "less Type A Jen" and not worry so much for about it. (My quant exam is tomorrow...so we'll see how that works out). There were supposed to be four of us going to the concert: me, Danielle and two of my Wake friends, but they freaked out about work (like I was tempted to do) and didn't go.

We went to the box office and at first they told us that the band's list wasn't in yet (Ugh...this again?), but they decided to check my name anyway and surprise surprise the tickets were there. Along with the backstage passes.


It looks fake, doesn't they. I think I bought something like that at a Backstreet Boys concert once. We also got the sticker passes like I'm used to.
We also got instructions on where to go after REO's set. We were slightly confused because we thought REO was headlining, but it turns out that them and Styx switch every night. That's weird. Our seats were 10th row center on the floor (apparently this is where all the band's free tickets are because if you remember for the BSC concert we were in about the same place). Night Ranger opened...for those of you that don't know who Night Ranger is think "Sister Christian." Danielle fell in love with their keyboard player, and they were also interesting because their drummer is their lead singer which is a little unusual. They were pretty good. Next was REO. They were also really good. Afterwards we went back the little hallway and were herded into a "media room" with about 20 other people including a group of ridiculously drunk women who were threatened to be kicked out. Then an official manager type guy made us all be quiet and pay attention and gave us the rules...woah! This is intense!

1) Know how to use your camera
2) The guitar players hands are very sensitive so no hard handshakes.
3) Stay spread out. They will come to you.
4) The flu is going around so keep your bodily fluids to yourself
5) Don't start any sentence with "do you remember when..." because they don't.

So he left and Danielle and I stayed as far away from the drunk ridiculous girls so that everyone was well aware that we were not part of that. The manager guy came back in and came over to me and said that Bryan (the drummer that I knew) was really sick and wouldn't be coming in, but wanted to say hi and that he hopes we enjoyed the concert. All the other band members then came in and we got autographs and stuff. We knew we were missing the first part of Styx's set, but didn't really care.

We went back out to the arena and saw Styx, but honestly I was a little disappointed (and also a little scared because I think I kinda like Tommy Shaw and that's just weird and icky.) But I befriended the drunk guy next to me so that was really fun and entertaining. Concert ended, I was home by 11:15...the end.

Danielle's Visit, Day One

Danielle arrived for her visit today. Though I'm not sure how much of this visit is about seeing me, and how much is about not being around her mom/not working and getting free REO Speedwagon tickets. This is kind of a stressful week for me, so it's good to have a friend here and balance that out for me. (We'll see how it all works out.)

I had an info session this afternoon and expected Danielle to arrive during that, so I told her how to get into my apartment. I arrived home though to find no Danielle. A little later I got an "I'm lost...mapquet/Garmin is telling me to go into a gated community" phone call from her. I think I've previously mentioned my hatred for her Garmin...it continues. Luckily, she wasn't that far away so I was able to talk her back to my apartment. When she arrived I discovered that she had forgotten the two things that I had requested from PA (Gazebo dressing and Reese's Peanut Butter) that I can't find in NC, but I decided to let her in anyway instead of sending her 7 hours back to PA to pick it up.

Then Danielle, Andy and I went to Ichiban where we dined on a platter of sushi (which I'm now regretting not taking a picture of). Danielle revealed some of the dirt she has on me (and she was sober) which is never a good thing...but I'm sure extremely entertaining for anyone that is not me.

The only thing I have yet to figure out is how I'm going to get some work done while she's here....oh well.

My Parents are Weird

Every Sunday I call my parents are around 10:30 or 11 in the morning. This morning I called my parent's house and no one answered, so I called my dad's crackberry. Below is a portion of the conversation that followed:

Me: Where are you guys?
Dad: In the car
Me: Where you going?
Dad: No where
Me: So you're just sitting in the car not going anywhere?
Dad: We sitting in the car in the garage making out.

Gross.

My Speech of Conviction

The final speech due for my communications course was a "speech of conviction." It was "our chance to share the passion we feel about a controversial topic." I must be the least convicted person I know because I'm am generally neutral on any controversial topic. After muling it over for a while, I was inspired by the show Whale Wars and decided my topic would be on whaling. My professor surprisingly loved the idea.

Around school we would discuss how preparing for the speech was going and when asked what my topic was, I would say "whaling." To which nearly every time someone would respond (either seriously or jokingly) "oh, are you for whaling?" Yes, I am for whaling, you jackass. Whales just take up too much space in the ocean and whale meat is delish. I think I'm going to go club some seals now for sport.

I did my speech taking the anti-Japanese whaling position (since that's mostly where the problem is). I think it went pretty well (I get my grade tomorrow). That evening I received an e-mail from my friend Andy that said "I think the Japanese have got a “giant creatures” phobia after the whole Godzilla thing, and now they’re therapeutically taking it out on the cetaceans." I thought this was hysterical.

So if you ever want to hear about why Japanese whaling is wrong and stupid, lemme know. Anyway I'm just glad that pointless class is over, but now I actually have to do real work. ::sigh::

Someone Talk Me Out of It

Dear God, I'm contemplating doing the 3-day again next year. Am I losing my mind? Probably. I feel this is somehow like childbirth (or so I hear) like after a few years or so you think about how magical and beautiful it was and forget how much it sucked while you were doing it and are like "I think I want to do that again." The other thing is I had PERFECT weather for my first 3-day experience and I know that I won't get lucky twice in a row.

So Good and Yet So Bad

At Wal-mart the other day, I discovered Molli Coolz Shakers. The concept is basically add milk, shake and voila instand milkshake...and who doesn't love milkshakes. So I thought to myself, can it really be this simple? Could this possible work? YES! Oh my gosh! It is FABULOUS! I wish I had bought like 7 of them...but then I realized how bad it would be to have milkshakes at my grasp 24-7...uh-oh

This Better Be A Sitcom

Well, I'm tired and pissed out so it must be time to blog. I swear that sometimes my life has to be a sitcom because things like this just don't happen in real life. So today I called my esthetician to make and appointment to get my eye brows done. She asked if i would mind if she called back in a little bit. I said no and gave her my home number (it's local). I waited and waited and no call so I called back. They said they tried to call me but it was a wrong number...weird...i didn't really think anything of it other than they copied the number down wrong. After a while I started thinking about other people I had given that number to and hadn't heard from. I decided to call "my" number myself and was shocked when a man who was obviously not me and not in my apartment answered. I verified the number and hung up. I pulled out the information the phone people had given me and verified the number they had given me. I also realized that when I got my new cell i called "my" home number as my test call and got my answering machine. I call Time Warner (who sucks apparently) and am like...what the hell? I had a phone number and now I don't. Well, they had no f***ing clue what happened as the number they gave me isn't even their number to give out and the "owner" has had it since 2000. WTF? I asked if there was anything they could do about it...uh...give you your actual number....thanks, you shit heads. So now I'm freaking out because "my" phone number is everywhere...including a bunch of job applications and Disney as of this afternoon....AHHHHHHH

North Carolina's New Law

As of October 1st, it is officially illegal to throw away plastic bottles (aka not recycle) in North Carolina. I'm all for recycling, but I'm not sure making a law is really going to do anything. Most of the articles I've seen on this issue basically say it's a law, but we're not really going to enforce it...huh? What's the point of having a law if you're not going to enforce it? Well, theoretically waste disposal companies can refuse your trash if it has illegal plastic bottles in it. Really? Do we really think garbage men are going to look in a trash can, open the trash bag in the can, see a plastic bottle and then leave it at the curb? I think not. I really can't decide how I feel about this new law because recycling is good...obviously, but is it me or does this just seem like we're living in a land of make believe and passing laws just because we can?

What Did She Just Say?

One of the funniest moments in my recent memory happened today in my career management course. (Of course, this is only really probably funny if you have the maturity of a 12 year old and think poop is a funny word...like i do.)

Our professor was talking about all the things that are due in the upcoming weeks and said "I know from your Myers Brigg that there are a lot of "p" personalities in here, so that means you're going to want to put that off till the last minute, but try to reign in your p-ness." Which of course is the same as "reign in your penis." I was spacing out (like I do a lot) and all of the sudden heard "reign in your penis." It was like when you catch a conversation at the wrong point and are like, what just happened? Everyone tried not to laugh but it was no use and worst of all our professor had no idea what people were laughing about. The guy beside me hadn't heard what she said at all and I couldn't repeat it without laughing hysterically. It was both an awkward moment and the funniest thing I have heard in class so far.

I Swear I Have a Life

It seems like lately all I've been doing is stuff for school (class, meeting, study, repeat), so I've decided that this weekend I'm going to make a concentrated effort to participate in some out of class activities. (Maybe not the best weekend to launch this plan since I have an accounting exam on Monday...it's open book/open note though).

Yesterday I had signed up to help the youth group at my church sell pumpkins. We are "the pumpkin church" as seen in the picture. It was fine though a little windy and the girl I was assigned to work with wasn't very talkative. We also ran out of 1's within about 20 minutes of starting our 2 hour shift, but we called and got more, so it was ok.

Then after that I went to the B-school happy hour, which was fun. It was a little crowded and loud, so you could hardly hear people talking to you, but I'm not going to argue with free beer.

After studying this morning, I'm planning on going to the B-school tailgate and possibly the Wake/Maryland game...if I can convince someone to go with me. A lot of people are planning on going to the tailgate and then leaving, but we'll see.

Letters From Prison

Let's just get right to it. Shall we?

"Hey, what's up? (still not in prison, you?) My b-day is approaching very fast. I was hoping I'd be home before then, but I guess I'm not gonna make it. Oh well, I'm gonna do everything in my power to never spend another b-day behind bars! (yeah, it's a shame that the police are out to get you or you may have a shot at that).

WOW that's a really good proffession to choose (I told her i wanted to be a professor...no i did not spell it with two f's. I'm not sure where she got that from.) I can say I have a proffessor in the family now. (um...not really now, because you see I'm not actually a professor yet). haha make sure you are a hip one though. (when did the word "hip" make a comeback? am I just really out of it?) haha you'll be so having affairs with your freshman. (wait? what?) haha sike (do people still say sike?) that might be nice for you when your 50 though if your not married. (OMG...I am simultaneously offended and disgusted). So will you be Dr. Sto when you get your Ph.D.? (yes, but that does not mean that you can bring your friends who have OD-ed/been shot over to my apartment and expect me to fix them up. There's different types of doctors.) Where would you want to teach at? (wherever there's a job...and you shouldn't end a sentence with a preposition.) A college? (that's typically where professor work) Which one, in what state?

I like your business card it's very businessy. (I guess being businessy is good considering it's a BUSINESS card.) I'd like to look at your scrapbook from ND sometime maybe I can come visit you in NC like next year around my b-day. (no, that's ok...I can bring the scrapbook to you. Really, it's not a problem...plus you probably still won't be able to leave the state.) When I go home we'll still keep in touch thru e-mail and the phone. (and you'll have to check out my really awesome blog...haha)

Your classes arn't (yes, there's no e) that long, I though they'd maybe be like a all day process (see there's this concept called homework that I'm not sure you're fully grasping). the also seem very complex (well, duh), do you ever get bored in class (yes) or are you a very good and attentive student (no)? My stupid radio broke so now i'm gonna have to get a new one and they cost $25 but are worth like $5 (i'm not sending you money if that's what you're going with this.) we were just one lock-down for over a week. (did someone find a shank? shank shank shank shank) I was going crazy. well i'm gonna go. Miss you. (Don't miss you)"

Well, it sounds like she's going to be getting out soon and I'm not sure whether that's good or bad for all of you. Bad because there's no more letters from prison, but good because there will actually be real life accounts. The last time I actually saw her in person she threw all her Christmas presents in the snow in my grandmother's front yard.

Things That Annoy Me (Yes, two in a row)

I went to the post office to get a postcard stamp. As the postal worker was sticking the stamp on the postcard, she began to read it, and then commented on what I had written. Isn't that like illegal or something?

Things That Annoy Me

I haven't really done a "Things that Annoy Me" blog lately (nor a "Psychotic Thought of the Day" blog on that note), but yesterday I had something that definitely was annoyance worthy. I was on my way to Zumba (yes, I've drunk the Zumba kool-aid) and decided to stop off at the community compost bin down the block from me to dump off my compostables. After dumping my stuff, I realized I had composty juices on my hand. As I was driving, I realized I had hand sanitizer in the middle console. I got it out. Flicked open the top and hand sanitizer exploded all over my face (including in my eye)...keep in mind that I am still driving. I stop at a red light and read the warning (with the eye that is not stinging like a mo fo). "In the event of contact with the eyes, flush immediately with water and seek medical advice." Shit! So (while still driving...probably not the smartest move), I flush my eye with water from the water bottle that I was taking to Zumba, do not seek medical attention, and still making to Zumba on time. I guess everything's ok since I woke up this morning and wasn't blind.

Reunion Ridiculousness

I can't sleep because Jimmy Clausen (who according to Danielle looks like a fat Nick Carter...though I would argue Nick Carter is pretty fat) just saved Charlie Weis's fat ass one more time in the closing seconds of the game and my adrenaline is still chugging away. (sidenote: I originally just said Weis's ass and went back and added the word "fat" during editing which I think is a nice change.) I thought rather than waste this time..oh...i don't know...reading a book or something, that I'd blog. Because we all know that the very best blogs can be written at 12:15 AM.

Today I opened my mailbox and found....::drumroll::...an invitation to my 10 year high school reunion. (Oh the humanity!) I thought I'd just comment on the ridiculousness of several part of it. Remember these are only my very favorite excerpts.

1) It was sealed with a gold sticker with hearts on it (like you would use to seal wedding invitations). Really? You couldn't find anything better than this?

2) "$40 at the door. (Price includes heavy horderves, 2 drink tickets & entertainment provided by EVERY DAY HEROES" ---holy crap, $40 bucks. It better be heavy hors d'oeuvres. It's at the Appalachian Brewing Company, so it's not even like it's at a hotel and we're paying a crapload for the room. And "horderves" really looked correct to you? Didn't notice anything bizarre about that spelling? That really speaks volumes about Middletown's Education system, doesn't it?

3) "Please no hats or sneakers." --does this really need to be said? Man, I come from one classy hometown.

4) In giant letters at the bottom "We're Going To Party Like It's 1999." --Thank you Prince, for creating that song so that we could cling to it like a remora to a shark. This song will follow me around FOREVER and to think, I actually used to like that song.

Anyway, I'm still debating whether to go or not. Like there's no one I really want to see that I don't already talk to, but I have been doing pretty awesome since high school, so I kinda want to go rub that in people's faces. Is that wrong?

Do you Know How to Peel a Banana?

Today in between classes someone was eating a banana and someone else informed them that they were peeling it wrong. He referred us to this YouTube clip:


I have multiple favorite parts of this: a) when he says it "blew his mind", b) when he tries to bite the banana open and c) the fact that he has monkey pants on.

Henna Really Isn't As Cool As I Thought

Today at B school was the "International Food Fest." Each "team" (each academic team has 5-6 students in it and you basically do a bunch of stuff together with them) had to prepare a dish from a foreign country. There's a guy names Xavier on my team who is from Belgium originally so we made Carbonade a la Flamande (aka A Flemish Beef Stew). It was basically beef, carrots, onions, bread, dijon mustard and a crap load of dark beer. (That's an official culinary term: "crap load" which is a little smaller than an "ass load") There was a ton of food. Pad Thai, quiches, chicken curry, spanikopita, and a bunch of other stuff that I don't even know the name of. My stomach just took a trip around the world. Some people also had different activities from around the world. A couple of students from India were doing Henna tattooing. I always wanted to get Henna, and when I was walking by there was no line so I sat down. This is my Henna:

Henna is not as cool as I thought it was for three main reasons. 1) It's a lot oranger than I thought it's be. 2) I thought that like they painted it on and you waited like 15 minutes or something and washed it off. No...you have to wait like an hour until it gets dry and just cracks and falls off. Do you know how hard it is not to bump intricate painting on your right arm? Also, do you know how hard it is to take a clear picture of your right arm when you're right handed? 3) It's supposed to stay on for like a week or something, but I just took a shower and it already faded significantly, so we'll see. So, I'm not sure if I'd do it again or not. It didn't totally suck. It just wasn't all that I thought it'd be.

A Letters from Prison Excerpt

I received another letter from the big house (no not Michigan)...though on that note isn't it kinda fitting that "big house" is the name of both Michigan's stadium and prison...hmmm...I digress. Anyway, the whole letter wasn't that interesting, but a few lines really pretty much summed up her whole issue.

"I wish I didn't have to work hard and everything could just be handed to me for the rest of my life but I know that's not the case and I'm gonna have to work extra hard when I came home to do otherwise. I can't be lazy any more I won't get anyway in life!!"

Wow....wow... (yes, she actually did say "anyway in life" not "anywhere in life") Do we think she actually understands the hard work thing? I mean its easy to say when you're sitting in a jail cell with nothing to do but read all day, but then when you actually have to work, it's a whole different ball game.

Like a Band Aid...Right Off!

There are certain things in life that should be done in one quick, painful motion: removing a band aid, giving bad news, taking duct tape off of a hostage's mouth (not that I have any formal training on this...just what I've seen on TV), and body waxing.

After moving one of the most difficult things I've had to do is find a new esthetician to get my eyebrows waxed. I've had some bad experiences. No real eyebrow butchery. Just not really done up to my expectations (if it takes less than 5 minutes...you didn't do a good job). So Friday, I crossed my fingers and went to get my eyebrows waxed. She did a decent job except instead of just forcefully ripping off the strips of wax, she like slowly (and agonizingly) peeled it off. Now I have this dilemma. Do I try someone new and risk having horrible eyebrows for a week or so? Or do I go back and grit my teeth for a few minutes of pain?

And the Maintenance Guy Went Crazy

I had this huge bush out by my front door that was approximately 12 feet in diameter (with a standard deviation of about a foot and a half...sorry quant is seeping into my everyday life . Never read Super Crunchers). It was a big f***ing bush. It hung over the flower bed onto my patio. I came home two days ago and found this.

Apparently the apartment maintenance guy went completely ape shit on it.

The Care Package

I found one other thing that differs between undergrad and grad school. Care packages. When I was at ND, my mom sent great care packages. They had things like food and hot chocolate and stuffed animals and stickers and other fun things in it. I got a huge box on my doorstep with my mom's handwriting on the front. I was super psyched. I opened it up and inside was a suit, a photo album and coupons...no note, no card, no explanation what so ever. She's so weird.

It's Different

So I decided after a week and a half of classes that I would blog about some of the differences between my undergrad and B-school experiences. Now granted these are only my very narrow assessments from four years at Notre Dame and a week and a half at Wake Forest, but I'm pretty sure they're relatively accurate and will carry over to others.

1) Dress code: Wake has a business casual dress code for all its MBA students. Which means I have to like iron stuff and do laundry on a regular basis. Gone are the days of wearing pajamas, sweats or wind pants to class (my freshman year roommate, Maryn wouldn't know what to do with herself).

2) Beer: There is probably still as much beer around as there was when I was in undergrad it's just better quality. No more Natty Lite. Yuengling, Coors, Sam Adams seem to be staples.

3) Stealing: Stealing seems to be more frowned upon. Back at ND we were really into stealing things (from campus of course...sticking it to the man...we paid for it right). At one time or another we stole an entire dining hall set including tray, sugar dispenser and salt and pepper shakers. My parents also still have a section 13 sign from the JACC. (It's in their basement...check it out if you're ever over). We also found it humorous when someone stole the giant inflatable gorilla from Farley and the picture of Edward J. ("Jomama") Debartolo from Debartolo hall. In grad school...I haven't really tested this out...but I'm thinking that if I stole the giant Deacon from the student lounge that I'd kinda be in trouble.

4) The ratio: I'm not sure what the ratio exactly was at ND, but I'm thinking it was about 50/50. My first year MBA class has 68 students in it and 12 of them are girls...not that I'm complaining. (I get to talk about football a lot).

5) The whole married/kids thing. I have friends that are married and have kids, but it's still weird to me when someone has to leave the team meeting because they have to take their kid to the dentist...I'm just not used to the family thing in a school setting.

6) Going to class. You have to go to class. If you miss, not only do you have to e-mail the professor, but you have to e-mail the MBA relations person...weird. I can't tell you the number of times I didn't go to Genetics at ND.

7) Calling professors by their first name. It's just awkward calling them Jon or Sherry or whatever.

Well, I guess that's all for now. I think I had something else to write, but it's gone now...maybe later.

Letters from Prison: Bizness

Let's just get right into it.

"So I was wondering what are you going to do with your master's degree in bizness after you get it? (well, I'm going to go into brand management for a CPG company, but there isn't enough stationary in the world for me to explain how that relates to "bizness" for you, so let's just say I want to help companies put things in stores.) What is your goal? (um...to make money? and get really good free products.) Do you want to own and run your own bizness? (hell no!) If so, what? (a giant candy store...like FAO Schwartz, but with candy) Can I work there if you do? (um...let me think about this for a second...no) It will be hard for me to get a good job now with my record!! :-( (life's a bitch...ain't it?) I'll most likely stuck in fast food joints inless (yes, it says inless) someone hooks me up (no one in their right mind would hook you up) or I own my own bizness (oh God...here we go) which that is the long term goal for me! (you do know that being a drug dealer doesn't count as "owning your own bizness").

No my mom didn't get out. (in the last letter she had said her mom was supposed to get out...in case you missed this part of the story her mom is in the same jail that she's in.) Shes still here. she has to go back to court again. who knows where my mom will work when she does get out (2nd and walnut?) No I don't think I'm gonna go upstate (where exactly is upstate in Pennsylvania?) I'm getting a paid lawyer now (I don't even want to know who is paying for this, but smart money is on my aunt) so I don't have to cause they are really trying to sock it to me (oh sure...the legal system is just out to get you...blah blah blah) and being really unfair (because they actually put you in jail? how terrible!) I won't feel safe inless I have a paid lawyer (and I won't feel safe inless you're in jail). Well I guess Im gonna go. Talk 2 you again soon. (we can hope)"

How to Sell Gum At School?

I can't believe I forgot to post this. I was cleaning out my e-mail and came across this little nugget that Kate had sent me (a long long time ago) and since today was my first day of class I thought it would be apropos to post. Did you know that you can find out how to do ANYTHING on wikihow? It's great. If you're bored at work, I highly suggest checking it out. Some of them even have ridiculous videos to go with them. But this is one of my favorites "How to Sell Gum At School." My comments in parenthesis as usual.

"Steps
To get started, purchase several packs of any type of gum that many people seem to like. (I like Big Red and also Teaberry...but it's really hard to find Teaberry and not many people like it. My dad chews 5 and thinks he's really cool because of it.)
Choose the brand you are going to sell and have 3 different flavors of that brand. (I'm not really sure why you can only have one brand, but whatever)
Go around keeping a low profile asking people if they want any gum. The best time is at lunch because that's when most people have their money out. (hey..uh..you wanna buy some gum? no, that's not sketchy at all...and by "gum" I mean weed.)
Charge them 20 cents a piece. So it would be 5 pieces for a dollar which they will usually buy instead of just 1 piece. (20 cents a piece...what a rip off! School kids are so stupid)
That's basically it but be sure to read the warnings and tips! (yes, gotta love warnings and tips)
Also be confident... (I will be confident in my gum selling abilities).

Tips (There are hella lot of tips)
After you get caught the first time (apparently you're not a very good gum seller if you get caught), you can still continue selling but exercise more caution. Keep everything in a secret second locker. (how exactly does one get a 'secret second locker.'...is that somewhere on wikihow?) Go around asking people for gum to buy. If they say yes, disappear and go without them to get out whatever they wanted to buy. Bring it to them. Do not let them see you there or they could use that information to snitch or blackmail you later. (OMG, this is the sketchiest thing ever! And what kinda psycho is blackmailing you because you're selling gum).
Start out buying 3 packs but as your business gets better buy more. (don't want to have to much inventory. It could really wreck your cash flow...though I would totally go to Sam's Club and get the like gross of gum).
Never listen to people who say they will pay you back the next day, or give out "samples"; people will take you less seriously and try to take advantage if they find out. (No shit. It's middle school ...or maybe high school...either way, these are stupid kids).
Never eat your merchandise, no matter how much you crave a stick of gum. You can bunch a few packs together and take a good whiff, but that’s it. (so now you are huffing gum? I would think you would want to chew it and have others see you and wish they had a piece a gum. Just thought it would be a good marketing scheme to create demand.)
Most of your profit will be in quarters. Roll them up using quarter rolls and take them to the bank. You can deposit them in your account, (If you don't have a bank account, now would be a good time to open one.) or cash 'em up. Avoid using "Coinstar" type machines. They may be easier to use, but they will take some of your profit as a transaction fee. (Though make sure you split up the deposits or the bank teller may become suspicious and blackmail you..ha)
Keep a record of your overall profit. (this is actually a good idea...you could create a whole income statement...I had accounting today...sorry)
You may eventually become well-known and approached by customers rather than you approaching them. This is a good thing. (unless of course it's an undercover agent for the gum police).
A 25 cent pack of gum suddenly becomes worth a million dollars when people are listening to that boring lecture in class. (wait...I thought we were doing 20 cents? when did inflation suddenly kick in mid wikihow?)
Be nice and respectful to any potential customers. (True)
Don't bring large dollar bills to school. You may think that's a clever idea so that you can sell to people who only have 20s, but it can get lost or stolen. (or people could think you are dealing drugs)
Wear clothes with many pockets but try not to put the gum in your pants because it can get smushed and look like bad quality gum. (hahahahahaha)
Don't over approach people. Remember your trying to keep a low profile! (stay on the dl)
Don't over PRICE your gum. 25 cents is the most to charge for a piece. (I would think you would have to gauge your market to see what price the market can bear...i would bet that there are school's where the going price for gum in higher than others)
25 cents might be not a lot more than 20 but it sounds like it is the way you say it even if it's not. (huh?)

Warnings (There's more?)
To be sneaky, In class, walk around desk-to-desk with gum in your pockets offering some gum. (this is getting more ridiculous as it got on...as all good blog subjects do)
Be wary of snitches, they usually come in the form of a nice do-gooder boy, so be careful. If people then ask what flavors you have, they will most likely be customers (what about nice do-gooder girls? don't they snitch? I think this wikihow is sexist!)
Be wary selling individually wrapped sticks. Those are not sealed, and you have no way of proving to people that you didn’t do anything to the gum. (um..unless you're a really sketchy kid then you shouldn't have to prove that you didn't tamper with it...oh wait...you're sneaking around selling gum which automatically makes you sketchy)
Don't get caught in the act! (No shit!)
if a kid in your class is related to a person of the staff, don't sell it to them, they might rat you out. you don't want that! (Double no shit)
Another idea of how to sneak gum in class is pass a note around asking people if they want pass only to kids you know won't rat you out,everyone knows how to not get caught with a note right, so its easy. Slide the gum wrapped in a sliver of paper to your customers Ask for the money first. (Is it just me or if you are this paranoid about getting caught, maybe you aren't the type of person that should be selling gum around school.)
If you really need a spot to put the gum, try your pencil case. (we're concerned about smashed gum, but gum with graphite all over it is ok...and now I'm also wondering what grade we're talking about here, because I didn't have a pencil case past elementary school.)"

Well, that was fun wasn't it?

JSto, Voodoo High Priestess

First day of B School Classes is tomorrow, but I actually read ahead (because I'm a brown noser) and have time to blog. I really thought I'd have more to blog about with orientation, but I don't. I guess the Girl Scouts has numbed me to every day normal stupidity. The one thing they really are pushing is all these career and personality tests to make sure that you end up in the right job. I recently got my Myers-Briggs report and found it moderately ridiculous, so I'm going to blog about it. It will probably be funnier for those that know me, but hopefully I can make enough mocking remarks that it will be a least mildly entertaining for all.

"INFJ (This stands for introversion, intuition, feeling and judging...i only got a 1 on introversion, so i'm not that introverted...I mean, obviously): Creative Observer and Developer (I get the creative developer, but what does a creative observer do? Do I watch plays or what?)

It is estimated that only 1% of the adult population fall into this category. (Because 1% of the population is AWESOME!) These unique types are interested in people and in better life for others. (Well, some others at least...not all others). They may express through their poetry or other forms of writing, the arts, drama or music (or food art).

The INFJ's strength lies in their gentitlity, caring and interpersonal sensitivity. (BAHAHAHAHA) They are often viewed to be warm, understanding and almost mystical in their ability to understand the feelings of others. (People say I'm mystical all the time).

They do not aspire to a lot of attention and friends (Says who?) They have an uncanny ability to predict what others will do in a given situation, often before the other may decide for him or herself. These attributes may lead the INFJ and others to view this talent as beyond logic--maybe even ESP (woooooo...On a sidenote: I had a friend in middle school that swore that ESP stood for Extra Special Powers)

They do not usually do well with highly repetitive, routine work where they are not given the opportunity to think for themselves. (in fact, one might even say it makes them want to gouge their eyes out with a rusty ice pick). They are the inventors rather than the implementers. (So creative, but lazy). Strong INFJ's are almost viewed as magical with their ability to intuit. (Seriously, when has anyone thought that I was mystical or magical?)

The INFJ may find personal stress management techniques such as meditation or yoga (now we're talking) to be especially helpful in gaining perspective and improved feeling of health). The INFJ are highly imaginative and have rich inner lives--they tend to be idealists. (Now comes my favorite part)

Careers INFJs tend to choose most include: Religious work/clergy (as in voodoo high priestess), education (and work with kids ALL day?), writing (I'm not disturbed enough), medicine (eww...blood), social science, research (how does this relate to people at all) and social work.

Careers INFJs tend to choose least include: Police (phew), corrections (it would be a conflict of interest anyway), probation (double phew), sales agents (someone please tell my father that I DONT want to go into sales), mechanical work, bank management and supervision in factory-type work."

Does Everyone Know What a Lint Trap Is?

Because apparently the former tenant of my apartment did not.

YEAH, I got my new laptop, so that means I can post more regularly (provided I actually have time) and can add pictures.

So I did laundry (because well, that's what you do when you live on your own) and not only did I find that the former tenant had left a sock in the dryer, but also a couple pounds of lint.

I felt like I should spin it into yarn and knit something out of it. After pulling out all that lint, underneath the trap was still all fuzzy looking.

I had to take a vacuum to it. Isn't that so gross? Anyway, I have lots to tell you about orientation...woohoo!! PS I kinda want to share my blog with some of my new friends, but I'm scared that some of the thoughts in my blog make me a bad person...thoughts? Is it too early to show them the "true" JSto?

Letters from Prison: The Shank

Before I get started, I just want to mention how much I love using the word shank. Shank Shank Shank Shank and may start referring to every sort of knife type implement as a shank. "Can you pass me that shank so I can butter my bread?"

"Hey how are you adjusting to your new apt and your new town? (just peachy thanks for asking) Did you go explore it yet? (if by explore you mean get lost in random parts of town...then yes) Is there any good places around that you might like to go visit? (that I can hide out in when I escape) Well, I just watched these two girls fight (and here I was worried this letter was going to be dull). It was pretty funny cept for the fact one girl was 20ish and the other was 40ish (are we sure that these "two girls" weren't you and your mom?) and they said that the 20ish beat her up and I said I wonder why? (I really don't understand this part here at all) I bet she wouldn't of beat anyone up her age (feisty, aren't we?) then the 40ish was the one who started it then tried to cope out (I think you mean cop out, dear) when they were takin em to the hole. It was a stupid fight, just entertainment for 2 minutes (yep, I know how it is.) Nothing like that happens on the females side cept once in a blue moon. Um they put us on lockdowns (background info: previously she had said they were on lockdown, so I asked what they get put on lockdown for because I knew it would be golden material to work with) when people fight, they find shanks (shank shank shank shank...it's fun to type too), drugs, a medical emergency (like if someone got shanked?) or electric malfunction...or understaffed! The reason we were on lockdown for a week was cause we were yelling to guys in the dayroom (sounds like fun!) and we were so loud the lt's heard us (don't you just hate when that happens). Then after we got off they put us right back on cause 2 guys were fighting and they found a shank. are you letting your hair grow back? (honestly, I did not cut out anything here...her next sentence after shank was are you letting your hair grow back?) It's always good to laugh (I don't know where this came from, possibly something I said in my last letter, but I don't remember). I guess laughter heals the heart. I'm pretty funny myself (obviously) but I still like to be around funny people. When I was a pothead (are you kidding me? shank and pothead in the same letter? This is GOLD!) it was a funny fest all the time. "stoners" are very funny. (I can't make this up people!) I wrote a poem and sent it to a contest and it made it to the semi-finals and is gonna be published. (my opinion of poetry has just hit the shits!) I'm happy about that! Did you go to John Fred's concert? (yes, I did) Was he opening for Kid Rock? (yes, he was) If he his that whats up? (huh? I think someone's been in the hole a little too long!) well, i'm gonna go. i'll talk 2 you soon!"

Wow...brilliant.

Why Best Buy Sucks and John Fred Rocks

Ok, so we're onto Friday which was the day I officially had to be out of my apartment. I dropped off my key at the office without much problem. Then I decided to call Best Buy to check on my laptop since it was supposed to be done in "5-7 days" and it was now 8. My computer had not had anything done to it yet and was still 10th in line. I informed Best Buy that I would be picking up my laptop and taking it to North Carolina with me, so that's what I did. UGH!

That afternoon I went shopping with Amanda 1 at the Hershey Outlets and bought some yoga pants and a poncho because...that evening was the big concert at Hershey and oh yeah, it was raining ALL DAY.

Danielle were going to the Lynyrd Skynyrd (you have to scream Skynyrd and raise a fist/hand of rock when you read this) and Kid Rock concert which Black Stone Cherry was opening for and John Fred (my friend who's BSC's drummer) had gotten us tickets. The concert was supposed to start at 6, so around 4:30 we first went to the ticket office to see if they had our tickets. Unfortunately they only had Kid Rock's guest list which really ticked off one of the other guys in line who "Just had lunch with Lynyrd Skynyrd" and obviously likes to name drop. Danielle then bitched for about an hour and 15 minutes about how she wanted her tickets. Luckily the weather had cleared so we weren't standing in the rain. We finally got our tickets just before the doors opened. We were in the "golden circle", which for those of you who never attended a concert at Hershey Stadium is the first fifteen rows on the floor. You have to go through two things of ushers to get to them. We were row 12 in the center (and had better seats than the angry Lynyrd Skynyrd guy). They were really really good seats and the bands actually looked like actually regular sized people instead of the little tiny people we usually see from our seats.

BSC went on first and was really good. We went back by the merchandise table and saw John Fred for the band's meet and greet. He was really grateful that we had come and kept saying "how were your seats? were they good?" Uh..you gave us $90 seats for free...they could've been anywhere and as long as they were free would've been good. After that, things started to get crazy. People were ridiculous drunk and there was also some pot smoking going on, but not as much as I would've thought. This guy in front of us reached into a girl's pants and ripped off her thong in three pieces and proceeded to throw it around the crowd. (Honestly, my description can not do this incident justice). The guy left for some reason and the girl turns around and says "he's not even my boyfriend." Uh...ok? Then one of the vendors (who is like 17 or something, but looks 10) came up to Danielle and the guy beside her thought he was her kid...too funny! Concert ended and we managed to making it home while avoiding drunk people laying in the parking lot, weaving in and out of traffic and throwing up in front yards on Chocolate Avenue...All in all a good night!

Stay tuned for Letter from Prison: Shanks.

Packing in the Inferno

Now that I'm officially unpacked in my new place, I guess that means it's time to blog about packing (I hate not having a personal computer). The air conditioning in my old apartment would break about every 3 days or so and I'd call them and they would come "fix" it and it would be ok for 3 more days. They said it was leaking freon. Well, the day before the packers were coming, the maintenance guy came to look at the unit in my apartment (rather than just the one outside) because outside wasn't leaking fast enough that it should run out that quickly. So he came in, turned off the AC unit so that he could "hear the leak" unscrewed and some things said it was leaking freon into my apartment (that can't be good) and he'd have to see if they had the part and would be "right back". He left the unit all ripped apart, the light in the closet on and all his tools on the floor. He never came back. I ran into him out in the parking lot and asked him what the deal was, could I turn my AC back on or what. He told me he needed to order a part and would be back first thing the next morning. That was two days before I moved and I never saw him again.

That night it was scorching hot in my apartment. The thermostat said 87, and I can only open my sliding door on the balcony which screams "please come in and rob me in the middle of the night." I wasn't really sure if it was any cooler outside anyway, so I closed it when I went to bed. I put all my sheets and my pajamas in the freezer and managed to get cool enough to fall asleep and then woke up at 6am in a sweat.

The packers arrived and kinda annoyed me. I'm not really sure why. They just weren't that friendly. I apologized for it being so hot and offered them water and stuff, but always kept imagining that they were talking about my stuff when they were on breaks. "dude, what is with all the Alice in Wonderland shit?" "Did you see how fat that chick used to be?" Anyway, I just sat there really not knowing what to do because a) I'm not helping because I'm paying you and b) I'm not leaving because its my stuff. It only took them about three hours (and after unpacking I can see why...they did a pretty shitty job).

That night I spent at my gramma's air conditioned house (since everything I had was packed...except for random items like a plastic thing of cookie cutters which I'm not sure if the packers missed or what). However, I was slightly panicked because I didn't have my cell charger or my glasses and was slightly concerned they had been accidentally packed. Also, my gramma wasn't sure if her alarm worked or not and since my cell phone had died and my charger was missing didn't have a back up plan. I woke up at 5 am and decided to just go back to my apartment and nap on the couch so that I knew I would be up when the movers came.

The movers came and they were friendlier than the packers and it took them only 2 hours to load everything up (which allowed me time to meet Carmen and Kate for lunch). I had been given a seven day window in which my stuff could arrive in Winston-Salem, but was told to ask the truck driver as he would have a better idea. Here's that conversation:

Me: Do you know what day you'll be delivering my stuff to Winston-Salem?
Mover: Sunday
Me: This Sunday?
Mover: yeah, is there a problem with that?
Me: Well, they gave me the dates of the 3rd through the 9th and that's the 2nd.
Mover: Oh, I guess we'll be there Monday then.

Apparently a seven day span was not enough. Anyway, after they left, I cleaned my apartment (in the ungodly heat) and left to spend another night at my grandma's.

Stay tuned for the next post: Why Best Buy sucks and John Fred rocks.

Peace Out, Girl Scouts

I swore to myself that during my computer time today, I would get at least one meaningful blog post done. Being without a computer has really put me behind and material is coming in fast and furious. (I got a letter from prison yesterday and it uses the word "shank" so you know it has to be good.)

One final word about vacation (holy crap that was over a month ago). We had a sandcastle building contest for all the kids. It was like way too serious of a competition as teams were formed pretty much by random (except that a younger kid was always with an older kid) and there were stacks of tools that were given to each team so that everyone pretty much had the same stuff to work with. The time limit was an hour and a half. My mom and I were judges since we were the only ones (other than my dad who really didn't care what was going on) that didn't have children/grandchildren in the competition. My mom took it way too seriously and was taking notes and crap like that. In the end, everyone got a prize for bogus categories ("best use of materials" ), but then there was one grand prize ($10...woah..big time).

Now onto me quitting and leaving the Girl Scouts which can basically be defined as AWKWARD! My direct supervisor (Susan) was on vacation the week when I came back, so I knew I had to hand in my 2 weeks notice to our COO. So that morning, I basically stalked her until she was available. After walking by her office for the fourth time, I found her in there, door open but with someone else. I just stuck my head in and said "I need to talk to you then when you have a second." So about a half hour later she came to my office, I told her I was leaving, she was happy, the End. No big drama. BUT in typical Girl Scout fashion no one says anything to anyone else. I go tell the receptionist because I know she will tell EVERYONE. I also tell my "team" (I use that word in the loosest sense possible) and e-mail all my volunteers because that's who I really care about.

Flash forward a week when Susan is back from vacation. I accidentally overslept for the first time in three years which made me angry because it looked like I was purposely slacking off (I wasn't). She's sitting in her office. I creep by and put my stuff in my office, so I can start this awkward conversation without things in my hands. PS I had a "goal planning" meeting scheduled with her at 10, so knew I had to clear this up first thing.

Me: Hey, so I guess Anne told you the big news.
Susan: No, what?
Me: I handed in my two weeks notice last week. Friday is my last day.
Susan: (the color draining from her face) Oh

My one on one meeting that had been scheduled with her was just as ridiculous. I basically told her what I planned to get done and that was that. I expected her to add some things that she wanted me to finish up or whatever before I left, but she didn't.

Then I had a secret informant who I had told to inform me if they were planning any sort of party or whatever, so that I could be prepared to be sufficiently surprised. (not that I ended up needing an informant). She told me they had sent out an invitation that they were going to be having a "light and healthy" potluck lunch for me on Friday at 1:30, which is both a stupid time and a stupid description. I want cake, Damn it! Another coworker of mine (who was not my original informant) forwarded me the e-mail and commented on the stupidity of its nature.

Friday came. Susan decided to take me out to brunch, which solved my "I normally eat at noon, but if I don't eat, it looks like I know about the surprise dilemma." I expected this to be an information gathering session about how things are at the office and intended to inform her about how worthless one of my coworkers was, but alas it was merely Susan's final attend to be friendly with one of the "cool kids" at the office and utterly weird and awkward.

Friday around noon I had a phone call from TT telling me she "couldn't make it to the afternoon party, but wanted to wish me well." Remember it's a surprise. Then around 1:15 a coworker came to scavenge my office and said she'd "see me in a few." Then at 1:30 all workers vacated their cubicles (except for unknowing me of course) and I got a call asking me to "come to the kitchen. We're cleaning out the refrigerator and there's something that has a J on it that might be yours." Yeah, right. SURPRISE. There was lots of light and healthy food and a cake! They also gave me a Girl Scout necklace. because "it's not like she hates Girl Scouts."

Then that evening the real going away bash happened when Carmen and Kate and I went to the Melting Pot and ate Fondue until we were going to explode. I took pictures of my Yin Yang-tini, but can't find the USB port on this computer, so sorry, no pictures for you.

Still No Computer

Just wanted to let everyone know I'm fine and in Winston-Salem (aka "The Dash") not really sure how I feel about that nickname. I still have no computer because Best Buy sucks, but I've gotten an in with the MBA program so I have someone that is willing to swipe me into the computer lab until I get my ID, so that's nice.

Unpacking is horrible. Where did I get so much crap?

I've already used my jacuzzi tub and I have air conditioning so that's a big improvement over my old place. I have so much to tell you but don't really feel like taking care of that all now. So here's a brief summary of what's coming up:

Vacation finale: nothing really happened except the sandcastle building contest so we'll skip this.
My resignation and last days: complete awkwardness and ridiculousness as always
Moving: no air conditioning, and moving people that can't read a calendar
Best Buy sucking: yes, there will be more on this
The Concert: so many things to say, so little room

Oh and PS: my dad's strike is finally over after 3 and half years. They ruled in the company's favor and de-unionized the factory. Can you believe I was working at the Hall of Fame when all that mess started? I mean really.

Break from Blogging

Well, I had planned to finish my vacation blogging before I left for Winston-Salem, but then my lap top got a virus. AAAAAAHHHHH!!! I'm currently typing this from the public library (where I found out that my library card had expired...double AAAAAHHHHH!) So my next post will probably be after I move in and have internet in my apartment. Let's discuss what an inopportune time it was for my laptop to die. Wake is giving me a brand new laptop when I start there in a month (Yeah!), but I have summer assignments that I need to get done and other stuff to do. So I am currently playing $200 to have a laptop cleaned that I will only be using for about a month. (My semi-charmedness has taken a brief hiatus I think.)

I have more ridiculous things to tell you about my going away party when I get back though, so that will be fun. See you in NC!

OBX Day 5: Golf, if You Can Call it That

I'm currently having a little OMG I'm going back to school in a faraway land freak out, so I thought it would be a good time to blog. Plus in a week my internet goes bye bye and I want to get this done with.

Wednesday we had scheduled a tee time at the Nags Head Golf Club for myself, my dad and Patrick. Since I'm going to B school I figured I'd better brush up on my golf game. Turns out three years of not playing really hurts your game...go fig. Everyone kept telling us how hot it was going to be, but it was fine.

They paired our threesome up with some guy from California who was a dick. Well, I didn't really talk to him that much. I just got that dickish vibe. At first my bag of rental clubs didn't have a putter in it, so my dad went up to find out and brings out this putter that I swear was the size of my hand and had reflectors on the top of it that looked like a runway. I would've taken a picture, but didn't bring my camera.

I was in a cart with my dad who drove like an idiot. a) he drove into on of the staff members carts, b) he drove on the "carts keep to the cart path" fairway and c) he got the cart stuck in the sand and had to be pushed out.

Pre-getting stuck conversation:
Dad: There's your ball over in that patch of sand. Can I drive on that?
Me: Are you sure you should drive on the sand?
Flash forward 20 seconds to the wheels spinning and sand flying.

I also feel the need to mention a regularly told family story. The first year they went to the Outer Banks, my parents weren't even married yet. My grandpa told my dad "whatever you do, do not drive in the sand." Less than a half hour after arriving my dad pulls a U-turn a little wide off the road and into the sand and gets the car stuck. You would've thought that would've taught him a lesson...guess not.

This course had a lot of rough and water hazard and various animals. We saw a lots of snapping turtles, and heron (or other tall water bird), and rabbits and then we saw something that kinda looked like a long legged, long tailed groundhog. (I would've taken a picture of that too). Patrick thought it was an anteater, thought I didn't think it had a long anteater nose/mouth apparatus. As I mentioned there were a lot of hazards, so that made golfing a little rough. It was really windy too. Afterwards, we calculated that the three of us lost 18 balls. (a ball per hole...that's a good average right) Nine of those were my coveted Noodle balls. Patrick had to bum balls off of the dick California guy.

We got done in the early afternoon and were starving (we hadn't really eaten lunch. Just some packs of crackers on the course). So even though there was family spaghetti scheduled for that evening, we went straight to dinner. Of course, my dad made me call to tell them not to plan on us for supper. Instead we went to Pigman's and "ye olde ham shoppe" HA. My dad and I LOVE Pigman's. My mom HATES Pigman's. Ever had tuna-que or catfish-que? Me neither. I stick with beef or pork.

That evening we were supposed to have a big bonfire on the beach, but it was too windy, so we couldn't. Nothing else really happened except that I had to explain to Aubrey "what was up with my clothes?" "What happens if you don't follow the dress code?" Uh...you can't golf there?

OBX Day 4: The Ridiculous Birthday

I've decided to take a break from shredding stuff (just old pay stubs and stuff like that) because I actually started pretending that I was feeding some sort of dangerous animal and was talking to it...that signals the time to stop.

I've also just had my newly invented drink of Amaretto, Club Soda, Lime Juice and Splenda...it's amazing what you can invent when you're just trying to use up stuff around the house. Boredom + Alcohol = good time to blog.

The Tuesday of vacation was actually my grandma's birthday. It started off with my cousin Sam cooking breakfast for everyone, which is great, but do you know how long it takes to make pancakes, bacon and eggs for twenty one...a hella long time. There was also some excitement when a plate exploded (something about warm plate and cold countertop...I'm not really sure I was trying to zone out the entire time). The other issue was that when they said food was ready, there wasn't exactly enough food for everyone. Everyone gathered around the table (and because there was no limit given on the amount that people could take) the first six people got bacon, a different 10 got pancakes and of course there was a ton of eggs (blech!). There was grabbing and fighting and you would've thought we were in an orphanage where they only feed us every other day.

We went to the beach late (because of the breakfast) and the water was nice. The waves were breaking really close to shore though which wasn't very good for boogie boarding. We came up to the hot tub and had ice pops in the hot tub (Awesome) almost as good as ice pops in the shower. Then rather than go back to the beach, I decided to take a shower and get all fancied up for ::drumroll please:: professional family pictures!

My uncle had hired a photographer, which I have to say was a good idea, but it's really hard to get 21 people to stand still, smile and be in the correct position. There was also no real direction given about what we should wear. Most people had on shades of blue (just by accident) except for my cousin Sam that had on red. I haven't seen the proofs yet, but it should be interesting to see how much he sticks out. They took a few pictures of all of us together by the dunes. Then there could be individual family pictures or whatever. Of course at this point, all the kids head for the water. NOOOOO!!! The photographer then takes some candid pictures of us playing in the water (as if we didn't know she was taking pictures...yeah...right). Heidi (cousin-in-law...is that an actual relation) then decides to take pictures as well, but keeps yelling at people to act natural: "DJ, go play in the water naturally. I'm going to take some pictures." It is ridiculously hard to act natural when someone tells you to act natural. So I began making fun of her (because that's what my family does) and yelling things like "be part of the ocean. Playful...more playful...you love the beach" A la America's Next Top Model. Then the photographer wants to take more posed pictures of us by the water. Of course, at this point some fat guy in a yellow raft has floated in behind us. The last picture she takes, she says "on the count of three, I want everyone to jump...or if you can't jump, just put up your hands and pretend to jump." Who's stupid idea is this? Twenty one people of varying heights and sizes jumping...stupid.

Then we all head to dinner at Kelly's. They take us into a private room with a bunch of deer heads around it (pictured above) because when I think of North Carolina, I think of deer. I'm seated in between Sierra and my dad. The first thing I do is order a piratetini (because it's called a piratetini). The waiter asks me for ID...are you kidding me? I can't remember the last time I was carded. And of course, this one time, I only have my camera not my purse or ID. Do you really expect me to survive this family gathering without liquor? My dad asks if he can vouch for me as my father. The waiter says he'll check with his manager (then they bring me the drink). Then my dad suggests that I get my mom to order it and then get it from her because "she'd go to jail, you'd have your drink and we'd both be happy."

Sierra didn't like "anything" on the kids menu. You don't like spaghetti? Nope. Filet Mignon? What's that? Steak? Nope. Fried Shrimp? Nope. Hot Dog? Nope. Hamburger? Nope. Well, what do you want? I don't know. UGH! I finally convince her to go for the filet mignon. The food take FOREVER to come out. Luckily, you could somehow origami the kids menu into a fish...yeah, as if that worked. Then we played a lot of tic tac toe. Each kid went to the bathroom at least twice. Food came. It was not anything to write home about (I had crab cakes). Then we did presents and Heidi served the cake that she had made.

Cute, right? Originally it was supposed to be two layers, but something happened to the top layer (it collapse or otherwise got destroyed) so it was down to one.

We got home and rounded up some people to play Cranium. I LOVE cranium. There were a few issues. a) i was the only adult playing. So whenever there was an issue, it was said to be unfair because I just wanted my team to win. b) the kids didn't really understand that you should pick whoever is good at a category to do it. It doesn't really matter "who's turn" it is. Case in point: Sierra who is going into 4th grade (I think) struggled through reading the clues, but insisted that she do the one where you have to spell the word backwards because it was "her turn to do one".

The weirdest thing was when there was one of the sculpture questions. I handed the card over to Bryan to sculpt and before he even looked, Sandi yells out "Pencil!" Guess what it was? Pencil. I swear there is no way she could've seen it. Crazy. The other team won, but basically most of the game was full of arguing.

OBX Day 3: Are you Sure It's July?

Wow, I am totally on a blogging roll....actually I'm just avoiding doing moving stuff ::gulp:: Ok, so now it's Monday. On the refrigerator had been posted a listed of scheduled activities. All activities were optional except of course for my gramma's birthday dinner. On the schedule for Monday was sand castle building contest, and pork barbecue for dinner. Again I got up early, but this time so did my mom and dad. We were the first ones down to the beach. It was very cold and windy, and after about fifteen minutes decided that we were too cold and should make this our shopping trip instead. It was kinda ironic that it was cold because my dad and I had gotten yelled at on Saturday by my mom for not packing a sweatshirt. We drove up to Duck. When I was little I thought that Duck was REALLY far away, but actually it's not. I bought a new lunch bag.

What is is about purple purse like lunch bags that I love? oh maybe that they're purple and look like a purse! We did some shopping. Then we decided to go letterboxing. We found a clue that had 5 boxes along the same trail. The hike was listed as 5 miles, but upon inspection we discovered that it was actually a 2.5 mile trail, so round trip was 5 miles. However, the clue included instructions on how to begin at the opposite end of the trail, so we gave those instructions to my dad and sent him to meet us at the other end. The first issue we came across was that the trail was extremely flooded and wet because there had been a huge storm the night before.

At the 1 mile marker, my cell phone rang. It was my dad.

Dad: Are you going North or South?

Me: North

Dad: Are you sure?

Me: yep...the water is on our left the road is on our right.

Dad: Ok.

We continue on. At the 1.5 mile marker my cell phone rang again.

Dad: What was the name of the road?

Me: {name of the road...I can't remember what it was}

Dad: and it's on the left?

Me: Yes

Dad: there are no roads on the left.

Me: Well that's what the clue says...I'll just call you when we get to the end if you aren't there.

Dad: I hope you have cell service (at this point both of us are getting increasingly angry with each other)

Me: What do you want us to do? Do you want us to turn around? We're only a mile away from the end.

Dad: No just keep going.

I'm a little worried at this point that there actually is no end to the trail and we misunderstood the clue or something. But just before 2.5, I hear "cahcaw, cahcaw" a very poor excuse for a bird call which would be my dad. Also while we were on the trail, my Uncle Bill called and told us that the sand castle contest had been postponed because of wind and cold.

We head back to the house and Patrick and I watch Cash Cab in my room because the kids are watching some mindless junk on the living room TV. For some reason, Cash Cab became the show that everyone watched EVERY DAY. Patrick named my pink hippo pillow Eugene (I wanted to make in Pippo...Pink + Hippo), and decided he should have a very homosexual accent. Patrick and his family then left to go see the Lost Colony. (I got an update from him later...still lost).

After supper (the pork barbecue that my mom had transported from Indiana...I don't know why), Sierra, Aubrey and I snuck down one by one to the hot tub. It was necessary to sneak around so that all the other kids didn't join in. (Though at one point we did have eleven people in the hot tub). Then we searched out a TV to watch the movie Clue on. The only TV's that had VCRs were in the adult rooms. We went to Heidi and Bryan's room because Heidi was busy putting the finishing touches on my gramma's birthday cake (which you will see tomorrow). We had myself and five kids crammed onto a queen size bed watching the movie. It was fine except for someone's foot occasionally falling asleep and having to move.

OBX Day Two: The House of Global Warming

Not sure how this post is going to go because I'm absolutely exhausted from Zumba (which I still hate because it took the yoga time slot...but have to admit it's fun). But I rearranged the items on my desk and in my bedroom, so that my internet and power cords reached to my bed, so I'm lounging and typing.

You may already be aware that I a greener than normal person (in fact, I was a member of the office's "Green Team"). I do cringe every time I'm forced to use something made of styrofoam, but never before did something cause me to immediately research how to purchase carbon offsets as I did when I got home from vacation.

All twenty-one of us were staying in this cute pink three story house (picture above) that was right on the beach. But the waste of materials, electricity and water made me want to scream. Every walk through the house (for whatever reason) led me to switch off lights, TV's and water that had been left on. Instead of turning up the thermostat (which was set at 65), they would just open the outside door. My mom had brought plastic cups and labeled them with everyone's name so that they could be used over and over. Too bad that whoever did the grocery shopping bought all individual size bottles and cans (which of course we didn't have recycling for) and did I mention that they used paper plates for EVERYTHING. Even the spaghetti dinner...let's face it spaghetti is just not a paper plate type of food. AHHHHHHHHHHH!

Sunday morning I woke up early. Made myself some whole wheat toast with peanut butter and headed to the beach. I gave my mom specific instructions to not send any kids. I actually fell asleep on the beach until my dad came down and yelled "who's that girl with the big head?" and woke me up. Thanks, dad. Later Savon suggested I not sleep on the beach because "bugs could crawl on you and stuff."

I didn't realize how much skill is needed for proper ocean enjoyment. My cousin Sierra was terrified of the ocean, but after some observation, I realized it was because she would jump too early, forward into the wave and scream which caused her to land in the middle of the wave with her mouth open. Well of course she doesn't like the ocean. She was getting a mouth full of ocean water every five seconds. Which Molly reminded her that "Whales have babies in this water." Thanks, Molly.

The other thing that the kids didn't know how to do is ride a wave (either with or without a board). So this led to about 7 kids crowded around me with boogie boards so that I could cue them exactly when to start paddling. Some of them got it and some of them didn't. Aubrey had problems and pouted pretty much the entire time because she sucked. She eventually got it then.

We had lunch and then had more beach time. Dinner was on our own (thank God!), so my dad, mom, gramma and I went to one of our favorite restaurants from when we came every year when I was a kid: Owen's. I had forgotten about the cheese spread and crackers that they brought out, but didn't forget the hush puppies. I LOVE HUSH PUPPIES (or as my family refers to them "hushers". And of course we teased my mom because one year she actually wrapped up a bunch of hush puppies in a napkin and snuck them out in her purse. I had pecan crusted scallops (I LOVE SCALLOPS) and they came with this pecan Jack Daniels sauce that tasted like pecan pie filling (only better because there was Jack Daniels in it). After dinner we went shopping or something and probably watched some TV (I don't know...I don't really remember),

FLASHBACK ALERT: So thinking of Owen's reminded me of one time when I was in high school and Danielle came to the Outer Banks with us. We were at Owen's (because we went there every year). She ordered a Double Devil Chocolate Sundae for dessert. When the sundae came out it was so big that everyone's eyes in the dining room followed it to the table to see who exactly had ordered such a thing. After eating about a quarter of it, Danielle was full, but my dad egged her, so she continued eating to the point that her spoon was actually shaking because of how full she was....I don't remember if she ended up finishing it or not...danielle?

Jokes from the Kids

So the plan had been to post day two of vacation (which will be entitled the House of Global Warming), but I didn't get home from the gym until 10pm, and I know that will be a long post with pictures and links and bells and whistles, and I just don't have time for that before my bed looks more inviting than blogging. But I had another subject that I wanted to blog about that would be shorter (I know...you're totally going to be on blog overload...hope you're not on vacation right now...you'll have hours worth of blog to catch up on).

Today at one of my programs the girls finished their project about 10 minutes early and asked if they could stay to finish their multi-cultural (aka multi-color) goldfish crackers. Of course I said yes. They began to tell jokes. Now I realize that little kids don't really understand jokes and basically say nonsense and think it's funny, but I thought a 3rd grader and a 5th grader would understand. Here's some of their jokes. You be the judge.

What did the big carrot say to the little carrot? Hey, it smells like carrots in here. (well, I guess it would.)

Why did the chicken cross the road? To save his boss that was about to get hit by a car. (Kate had a good point. Who would save their boss? And is a chicken's boss the rooster or a hen?)

What did one two three say to four five six? seven eight nine ten (you're just basically counting here, aren't you)

Why did the kid cross the playground? Because he wanted to go on the swings. (Joke or fact?)

Knock Knock
Who's there?
Cookie
Cookie who?
I want to eat you (what kinda man eating cookie is this?)

(And my personal favorite)
Why was the little girl crying? Because someone just bust her teeth in. (I guess I would be crying too if someone just bust my teeth in, and was a little disturbed that they both of course thought this was hysterical.)

OBX Day 1: Let the Torture Begin

So we did not leave a 3am as my mother had hoped, but my dad refused to do. (We had heard that we should not arrive in the middle of the day because of lots of traffic going to the Outer Banks). Instead we left around 8 am and planned to stop in Richmond, VA for some sightseeing. Seems like a pretty reasonable thought to me. The car was packed to the gills with useless crap (aka beach chairs which we ended up throwing out once we got there and food such as hot dogs which I'm not really sure why they couldn't be purchased there). Either way, I was still slightly pissed because I was told not to "bring a big suitcase" and then all this other shit got packed up. Oh well.

We drove and drove and drove and I read some magazines, tried to sleep (since I had gone to bed at like 2am the night before...did I mention I made a run to Wendy's after my dance recital?) and watched an episode of Murder She Wrote on the portable DVD player that I had refused to let my cousins use.

We arrived in Richmond at the Science Museum of Virginia. It was pretty neat. We saw a movie on coral reefs in the IMAX dome thingy. The part I liked best of the museum was the area on brain teasers. I liked it because it reinforced how smart I am. My dad would be staring at something forever while my mom and I were doing other things. I'd come over and he'd say something like "It can't be done." I'd look at it for about ten seconds and then solve the puzzle. "Oh." The other funny thing that happened there was they had that traffic jam game where you have to move cars around into a certain pattern, but they were big cars that you could sit in and roll around. I turn around and my mom and dad are sitting in cars rolling them around. I swear the three of us are really all 10 year olds.

After the museum we went to the Village Cafe, which we found because it was on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. My dad LOVES that show. In fact, he loves a lot of shows on the Food Network which is weird since he thinks "making breakfast" is pouring pre-made batter onto a waffle iron. The food was really good. Though I thought a fist fight was going to break out between my mom and gramma over the chocolate peanut butter milkshake (highly recommend). Also, the drinks came in individual pitchers with a straw in it. That's a lot of Diet Coke!

We headed on our way to the Outer Banks and played lots of fun car games like how many state license plates can we see and the ABC game which gets crazy when people just start making up random things (aka Quince Pie as a dessert and "you know that basketball player named Xavier" for athlete).

We arrived at the pink house (picture to be in future blog) at around 7:30. Were greeted by a bevvy of teenagers who had just come from the beach and unpacked the car. It was the 4th of July, so of course there were going to be fireworks. My cousin Patrick (who is 16...I think) went down to the beach first. Then Petey and Savon (13 and 9-ish?) started off to the beach. My aunt Linda yelled at them to come back. They looked at her and then ignored it and continued. "Oh well, Patrick's down there to watch them" Then I headed down with Molly (15), Aubrey (13) and Sierra (9ish). By this time it was pretty dark out, so you could really only see people's clothes. No Patrick (he apparently went for a walk which is perfectly ok) and Petey and Savon are running in between the ocean (which they aren't supposed to be in) and a random sketchy guy setting off illegal fireworks on the beach (though sometimes they didn't really "set off" at all and just exploded on the spot). Next thing I know more kids are coming onto the beach from our house and soon all 12 of them are down there with me (the responsible adult). By this time it is totally dark. Sandi (13) and Molly spend about a half hour discussing whether they have a cell phone signal and a beach football game breaks out. Soon all the kids (and some other kids that are strangers we found on the beach and in no way related to me) are playing. This of course ends in crying, arguing, and general disarray so at around 10:10 I break it up and we all head back to the house. I then explain adult/kid ratios and how I don't mind being responsible for 3 girls, but when more come (including boys who have ADD and generally don't follow any sort of direction) I have issues with that.

Oh and I also discovered this day that I was not only sharing a room with my grandma, but in fact a bed (king size at least). "I thought we told you that" Uh...no...you didn't. We did have the coolest room in the house which was a plus.

Stay Tuned for Day 2: JSto's school of boogie boarding