Sunday, October 30, 2011

Pumpkins and a Classy Lady

*names have been changed to protect the innocent


A few nights ago I went to a jack 'o lantern-carving contest. It was just a small, non consequential activity with about 20 people that I know.


Since pumpkins were limited, some of us were encouraged to buddy up and share. Several partnerships formed and since I was feeling unusually territorial, I zeroed in on a lone pumpkin.


The only carving device I had was a butcher knife so I maliciously went to town on that pumpkin, stabbing sporadically around it's stem. (I had already come to peace with the possibility that I might return home with less fingers than I'd begun with, but this miraculously did not happen.) It was at this point that I noticed somebody watching me. *John.


John was slowly inching towards me from across the room.

He kept lurking and lurking until suddenly his hand was in my pumpkin. I was definitely not interested in having a partner and wanted all the creative license to this pumpkin to myself, but I didn't mind having someone help me pull the guts out. (If being a maniac serial killer is anything like gutting a pumpkin, I'm out.)


After gutting the beast, I looked down and realized that my shirt was inside-out. How I managed to go an entire day without noticing that blessed mistake is beyond me. In that moment of distraction, John took a knife and pressed it to the shell. (This all happened in slow motion, I'm pretty sure.) Remember how I said I was feeling strangely territorial? This bubbled forth as I grabbed the wrist of his knife-clinging hand and held it over my head.


I swear I'm not normally psycho like this. Apparently when it comes to cutting through the flesh of vegetables, I get art-rage.


"WHAT are you DOING?!" I proclaimed. My eyes were probably blood-red and bulging out and I wouldn't be surprised if my hair stood on end.

John kind of gurgled and laughed, "I'm carving it!"


It turns out that John was going to stab out the initials of his favorite university, but I was a controlling goblin and ended up carving a mustache instead. School pride? Nahhhh… I choose facial hair!

Happy Halloween, guys.


Monday, October 24, 2011

Turning Signals and a Classy Lady

Update: I wrote this several months ago and have since gotten extensive driving experience. I even had a dream where I stole a car so I think it's pretty safe to say that I am now a goddess of driving.


There are certain things in my life that never fail to bring unrest to my heart. For example, every single time somebody on a bike or skateboard is sharing the sidewalk with me, I will almost die.


You know when you accidentally run into someone in the hallway face to face and when you try to go around them, they go in the same direction?

(I like to call this the hallway tango.)

So you try turning the other way and sure enough, they do too. You both have a jolly-good laugh about it and then brief a sigh of relief once you've successfully passed each other. Well here's the thing: doing that when the other person is on wheels is a completely different experience wrought with terror and dread. This undoubtedly happens to me every time a biker comes along.


It's like my brain shuts off and isn't able to tell my feet to go in the opposite direction of the biker. No, no, no. When my feet are left with no master, they do exactly what they're not supposed to do. (Which, in this circumstance, is to walk right in front of the biker's path and then stop and stand awkwardly until the biker either crashes or hits you.) Luckily, I'm normally walking with somebody when this happens, and they have the brains to pull me out of the way. Anyway, that wasn't the point.


Along with bikers, getting touched on the neck, and the thought that I could someday accidentally bite my tongue completely off, driving fills me with utmost dread.

I'm a good driver, I really am. I'm just not good at following directions or rules or street signs. I got my driver's license late in life and only weeks before leaving for school without a car. Since my mom is a nervous driver, she almost always refused to let me drive her anywhere. As a result, I got practically no practice. I got my license, and then moved away from home for almost a solid year and a half. Most of that time was spent without a car.


I was asked to pick up something for my mom at the store. This meant I had to take the car. I had to drive, alone. (It's actually best that I drive alone because I narrate the entire ride aloud to myself to calm down.)


Once I got past our bumper-eating driveway of death, I had to actually deal with the big road and other drivers. You know those drivers you hate because they're in front of you and they refuse to turn right when they have time to? I'm that driver.


So I was already nervous and trying to remember the difference between turning left and right and which pedal means "GO GO GO FASSSST NOWWWW" and which one means "STOP FOREVER STOP STOP NOW." (When I get flustered, I forget which one is which. That oughta strike some confidence into your hearts.)


I approach a big 'ol traffic light with lots of cars and movement. I was being very cautious and attempting to look confident, but when I tried to turn my right blinker on, I turned on the windshield wiper instead. Instant panic ensued. When I panic, I laugh hysterically, and that is exactly what I did while trying to figure out how to turn off the wipers and on the blinker. I got things lined up just in time for the light to turn green. Crisis averted.

Long story short, I laughed hysterically for the rest of the drive and then bought apples and garbage bags for my mom. Moral of the story? A classy lady, like myself, always knows how to keep her composure in times of dismay.


Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Classy Thoughts from the Shower

I wouldn't say I'm a morning person, but I don't have a hard time waking up, getting up, and I'm pleasant. (Does that classify as me as a morning person?) Admittedly, I'd rather be sleeping.

Last week I woke up at 5:30 a.m. to start getting ready for work. I was the only one awake in the house and I woke up in an exceptionally good mood. Within seconds of lifting my head from the pillow, I was talking to myself. (Oh yes, there's another thing. I talk to myself in the morning.)

Minutes after waking up, I was in the shower and had a full-blown conversation going on. Here are a few of the highlights that I jotted down later:

Thoughts from the shower:


"I think my entire DNA has changed since Saturday."


"Is it morally wrong that I'm singing "because your kiss, your kiss, is on my lips" to the cat?"


"Nobody knows what's best for me. Only I know what's best for me. And what's best for me would be finding my nail clippers."


"I think all the weight I lost in pee I gained back in pants."


"I can tell this is gonna be a day where I regret not being a camel."


"If I put my mascara on in the shower I would save so much time. I would also look horrible and probably end up blind."


"Rapping would probably actually be a pretty simple thing for me to master because I like to end every word in the English language with "cat." Just this morning, I've said "Buttercat" like three times."


That last thought about rapping and cats inspired me to make a video blog. (I am a vlogger and have been since 2006.)



Feel free to visit my YouTube channel for more vlogs! You can click the crud out of this link! www.YouTube.com/iArielle

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Standing and a Classy Lady

I hate when I'm sitting and both of my legs miraculously fall asleep, but I'm apparently in a BIG hurry to be in a different location, so instead of shaking them awake, I just stand up and my knees buckle and then I fall flat on my face.