Wednesday, December 29, 2010

The Time My Parents Were Almost Investigated By DCFS Because Of An Injury I Gave Myself

Ok, so the winner of the last poll was choice #1, which was the time I almost had my parents investigated by DCFS because of an injury I gave myself. Here is the story...........

It was around the 4th of July in 1993. I was less than a month away from turning 7. After having run errands as a family all day, my dad decides to give me a bath. I didn't really care one way or the other, & just viewed the whole ordeal as something to be tolerated. As he was drawing the bath, I got it into my creative brain that it would be a good idea to dance on the toilet. I put the lid down & started a'movin' & a'groovin'. Until the lid shifted & I felt & hit my head on the bowl.

That's right. I fell off the toilet & hit my head on it.

My dad, living in a constant state of confusion, didn't really know what had happened. My mother, who had been changing clothes, ran into the bathroom topless (I wasn't unconscious. Yet.) & yelled, "He's bleeding!" My dad said, "Where?" & my mom yelled, "His face!"

Sure enough, there was a big cut directly next to my eye that was gushing blood. My parents knew a nurse in town so they called her up to see if she could give them an opinion about whether or not I needed stitches. I was going in & out of consciousness, but I remember the nurses kids staring at me like I was a retard (duh).

It was decided I needed to go to the hospital, because no shit. I don't remember too much after that except speeding to the hospital (don't remember who was driving) & going into the bathroom at the hospital & looking in the mirror & being able to see bone. But apparently what happened that I don't remember was my parents getting the third degree about how I got the injury. The doctors & nurses couldn't believe that I would dance on the toilet. In fact, they were going to call DCFS on my parents because they were so sure that my parents had abused me. It wasn't until I semi-consciously confirmed the story that they backed-off & realized that yes, I am that weird.

And I still have that scar today. Some people think it's a dimple because as I grew up my face stretched out. But a few people know the truth.

God, I'm such a moron.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

YOU Choose The Story, Pt. Dos!

As some of you may know, yesterday was Christmas. For some, this means a lot of alcohol, a lot of presents, a lot of fun, a lot of fighting, a lot of food, & a lot of stress. For me, this means just one thing: work.

Because I don't really have much else to talk about at the moment aside from work (that I'm not going to mention at the moment since I've been told if I say anything negative about the company I will be fired. Who needs freedom of speech when you have a job in this economy, eh?), I'm going to let you guys pick my next post. Here are the 3 choices. Whichever story wins will be my next post.

1. The time my parents were almost investigated by DCFS for abuse because of a specific injury I had given myself.
2. The time I almost got arrested.
3. My first wreck.

Friday, December 24, 2010

Sorry that I've been kind of negligent on posting & commenting on your blogs, guys. Super busy & exhausted with work. But hopefully I will be able to catch up soon.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Why I'm So Good With Kids (Also, Why I'm A Good Salesman)

Yesterday at work, this man & his son of about 5 or 6 came up to the counter. After they ordered their assorted items, the boy noticed a thing of those stupid Silly Bandz that are all the rage right now.

So stupid...

Anyway, I have no idea why my job sells them. None at all. But alas, we do.

The boy wanted some. The father seemed confused by them. That's when I took over....

"Oh, you don't want those! They're $5 for a bunch of plastic bands. For that kind of money, you could help feed a starving kid in Africa."

The kid just looked at me, confused. The dad seemed a little confused, but thought it was humorous. And because once I start something like this I have to commit, I followed it up with.

"Yeah. How about that for a dose of reality on a Sunday morning."

Awkward silence.

My job here is done.

And that's why I'm such a good salesman & so good with kids, too.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

I Always Pull It Out (That's What She Said)

I'm usually not a procrastinator. In college, I was very good at time-management. When I was in Florida last year, I got my homework done weeks in advance depending on the workload at the time.

But this semester has been a struggle. The situation with depression, Skidmark, & my ridiculous work schedule has made getting schoolwork done early (& well) has been thrown out of the window. This Sunday I had a 10-12 page paper about my cultural family heritage that I was really struggling with. I had allotted certain times to work on it because of work, so it shouldn't have been a problem. But because we're so understaffed & I seem to have the most availability, almost every shift I worked was rearranged & I got called in on days off.

Now, because of this issue with being understaffed, we are all being forced to work 7-10 hour shifts without breaks because there's usually only 2 people working. Yes, it's illegal. I know that. Thanks. Anyway, whenever I'm not at work, I'm flat-out exhausted. No energy to type or think. All I want to do is sleep. But this paper had to be done.

I had Saturday night off. All of the research was done. The title page was done. The references were cited. I started writing. Then Skidmark is all in a tizzy, cleaning & whatnot. I assumed he was bringing someone over. He did. I could hear them talking & someone used the bathroom about 8 times in the span of an hour.

Because I was frustrated, I texted Katie from my church small group. She called me back & said she & some other people from church were coming to get me. I protested, stating I had to get this beast written. Then Brennan took the phone from her & told me he was taking me back to his place in Fayetteville. I stopped fighting.

They came & got me. Brennan apparently doesn't know how to get to his house from where I was because we went about 40 minutes out of the way. It took us about 2 1/2 hrs to make a trip that usually takes only a little over an hour. Whatever. I got some of the paper written there. Then Katie came & got me. I realized as we were leaving Fayetteville that I left my laptop & books in Brennan's car. So we had to get those.

I get home about 40 minutes before I have to work (by the way, I tried to get someone to cover this shift & no one at MULTIPLE stores could do it for me, so I'm done picking up shifts for people for a while). I decided to do a discussion board post because I knew the paper would be done late & there was no point in risking 2 late grades as opposed to 1. When I got back from work, the internet wasn't working well. Of course.

Monday after work, I come home to finish the paper. Then there's a power-surge & the internet stops working. Are you serious?

I call Katie & we go over to Ryan's (also in our small group) to finish this paper. I stupidly drink a beer before I start writing & it makes the whole experience just the more frustrating. It ended up being one of the worst things I've ever written (possibly worse than anything I've written on this here blog). But I turned that bitch in 10 minutes before it would have been 2 days late. Didn't even proof read.

And guess what.

I got a 95 on it.

5 points off for it being late.

I am unstoppable.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

No Pride

At least I didn't have to wear the caribou costume...those antlers were such a pain in the ass trying to keep both them & my headset on, as well as not knocking into things with them. Maneuvering the drive-thru window with them on was no small task.

Friday, December 10, 2010

How Any 24 Year Old Would Want To Spend Friday Night

I should be working on a paper that's due Sunday right now. That's what I should be doing. But I'm not. No. Instead, I'm doing everything in my power but writing that paper.

It's supposed to be 10-12 pages long, which is all well & good, but the topic of the paper is not conducive to me being able to make it that long. It's on my cultural background & heritage, & how it has affected my upbringing & my family.

Wonderful. Except that it hasn't affected anything. I have Native American on my mom's side but that trickled out by the time my grandmother was born (though she got some reparation money because we had relatives who walked the Trail of Tears). And that's basically it. I'm part English, because of course I am.

I already told the professor I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm just going to write as much as I can, use as many sources as I can (because it's so logical to make us use 12 sources on a paper about our lives, right?) & hope for the best. My grades have been pretty good so I'm not expecting to fail or anything. I still want to do the best I can.

Also, I went downstairs & Skidmark is in the basement. I wonder what horror he is conjuring down there at the moment.

Slight Update

It appears as if I may have found a place to live. I should know sometime next week.

On another note, I'm way too drunk for it to be a Thursday. And for having only drank 2 beers.

Also, here are two pictures of me holding an adorable baby this weekend while I was in Georgia. When his mom got pregnant while we attended Bible college I was one of the few people who helped keep her secret. I'm such a good friend.

Monday, December 6, 2010

What. The. Hell?

I just found this in my basement not 5 minutes after I get back from my trip. I think I'm moving this week.