Today is the Indian New Year: Diwali, the Festival of Lights. I know this because Sarika is trying to Brownify me. I don't really know why, exactly, but she has dubbed it her duty to make me Indian, or at least an honorary one. She has this strange obsession with making me her project for various things and I really just don't get it, but whatever. It's cool to be cultured. :) Anyway, Sarika has been counting down the days until this holiday; apparently, it's her favorite. She has been filling me in for weeks about the different traditions and whatnot because I was going to do everything in my power to celebrate it with her as best as I could. However, because our schedules were so completely different today, we had to celebrate separately until we could celebrate a little together. We started the day off by wearing new clothes (I wore my shirt that I bought when Alysa and I went shopping forever ago that I hadn't worn until now because it had been too hot. Apparently it looks good on me, says Sarika). We spent most of the day apart, doing more schoolwork than celebrating, but we got together later tonight. We went to Kabobaque (a fast-food Indian restaurant on University. It's kind of like calling Taco Bell Mexican food, but it was the closest we could get). We got our food and walked over to a shady place under a beautiful tree to have a picnic. We ate our food on new plates (apparently the food was said to be horrible by other Indians, but Sarika thought it was good and that Indians only say it's bad because they want to cause drama. I really liked it, too. Sarika said they did the spices correctly because our noses were running, whatever that means) and sat in the candlelight of these battery-operated candles that I bought when I was causing trouble with my sister's roommate at Walgreen's. When I first gave Sarika the candles (one for her, one for me), she was completely overjoyed. Squealy, even. She almost cried. She said it was the nicest thing anyone had ever down for her (which in my opinion is pretty lame sauce considering it wasn't even that big of a deal). She called her mom and told her about the candles (apparently they're a big deal in Indian culture and quite crucial to Diwali or something) and I think I got major brownie points with her mom, which I need. Not that I did anything for her to not like me, but she just doesn't like anyone really, so I need all of the help that I can get. We finished eating and then Sarika had to go to her chem lab. We were going to watch an Indian drama that's like, 5 hours long, but we just didn't have time for that. Another day. And then I will be really Indian. :) Also, you may have been wondering if we have seen the Diwali episode of The Office, and yes we have, and yes, we were going to watch that as well, but we didn't have time. I might watch it by myself before I go to bed because, well, I just can't get enough of The Office. In celebration of Diwali, I am keeping the lights on for as long as I can before Alysa goes to bed, and after I have to turn off the lights, my little candle will "burn" for the remainder of the night. Happy Diwali to all!
In other news, I got my cast off yesterday. It's amazing how much lighter I feel. They reweighed me at the doctor's office after I got it off and I had lost 2 1/2 pounds. The doctor said I am healing so well that all I have to do is wear a sling for the next couple weeks and do my own form of physical therapy. Basically I just have to keep my elbow moving and really work at having full extension and full usage of my arm, and so far, I think I am doing pretty well. I can move my arm so that it's almost straight (I basically look like I am doing the Mr. Roboto) and I am doing well with he suppination and pronation. I am actually typing with both hands for the first time in two weeks! Granted, it hurts like crazy, but I am getting used to it. I am in a lot of pain all the time, but hey, no pain, no gain. I am just really proud of my progress. I will be back to dancing in no time! In fact, cool story:
So I have been going to Ballroom like usual; I am just there to watch, not to dance. All of the advanced students have been really sweet and are always coming up to talk to me about my arm. Jake the Cake (my friend and Sarika's dancing partner) came up to me and told me that if I sit there and write all of the moves down that I have not yet learned, he would take time with me personally to teach me outside of class. Erin also offered the same thing, so potentially I will be getting double the one-on-one help. :D After practice, this guy Michael (Sarika has nicknamed him, her words not mine, McBastard because he is basically a pompous jerk. He doesn't really socially converse with people because he thinks he is too good for everyone else because he has been doing Ballroom for four years plus) comes up to me and asks how my arm was. I told him and he says, "I know it must be torture for you to just have to watch everyone dance [exactly what I had been thinking the whole time]. But you know, most of the moves are footwork and 95% of the time, the woman is led by her right hand; her left hand is merely for show. I don't know if you would be up for it, but I think you could should try dancing, even with your arm the way it is. If you want, I can be your partner and I will be extra gentle." I told him that it was a good idea and that I would consider it. I look over and Sarika's mouth is hanging wide open. We both could not believe that McB actually had a heart. Sarika thinks he has a thing for me, but I think he was just being nice (I have always thought he was nice deep down; Sarika was the one that thought he was "a hopeless case"). Either way, I am really thankful that the people in Ballroom (especially the advanced students whom I thought didn't know I existed) are being so nice about the whole situation and just really want me to come back. I think they see how much I just really want this.
Another thing that happened today...I had my follow-up appointment to get my test results back from "the worm doctor." Basically (as I thought), I don't have worms, a parasite, or anything creepy living inside of me (sadly the name I came up with for the potential tape worm inside of me, Herman, is no longer valid, but I do believe that I am going to keep the name in reference to my stomach nonetheless). I am, however, incredibly anemic and that is why I have been having so many physical problems. I think it's because I ate so many freaking goat kabobs and goat with rice and goat with cooked plantains and goat with ground nut sauce and goat with peas and just plain freaking goat that my body was pumped with iron (probably the iron it was missing all along), that when I came back from Africa and the goat supply was immediately discontinued, my body freaked out and yearned for its goat (or at least the iron that was in the goat), in which case I became incredibly anemic and hence my body was screwed over (the doc also said that that could have contributed to the breakage of my arm: I was just very weak and so a single fall just took me out). The doctor proscribed me with iron pills that I have to take three times a day for six months. Holy Goat Kabobs, I am just one messed up child.
Nothing much else to report...this week has been and probably will be a very chill week. I like it, especially since I am still recuperating from everything and I have been strangely tired all the time lately (probably due to the anemia). I do have a test on Friday and then a test next Friday (happy birthday to me...) that I need to study for and that is going to occupy a lot of my time. That's about it, though...
Sorry for another long post. I think I have realized that it is almost impossible for me to write short ones...
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Surgery,
Yup. Surgery. On my elbow. Here is my story...
Sunday, my little sister drove back from Phoenix with my older sister and myself to stay at UofA during her Fall Break (oh, how I wish we had one). Sunday night, she stayed at my sister's apartment, and then on Monday, Katie's roommate drove her to campus. Monday night, I took Nicole to Ballroom with me (we were doing Rumba--one of my favorites!), and afterward, we walked back and were hanging out with the guys outside. I still had my heels on, and I was going to go change them, but I felt that I needed to call Sarika. Turns out she really needed a friend. So I leave my sister in my dorm room, fly down the stairs, and head toward toward PSP. Stupid me, I take the corner out of VDP too quickly and totally biff it and fall right on my elbow. It all happened so fast: one minute I was hurrying to Sarika's dorm, the next minute I am lying flat on the pavement in immense pain. I sort of blacked out a little, and I just laid there for a couple minutes. The sad thing is, there was a whole bunch of people sitting around and they all saw me fall and didn't do anything or say anything (including--I found this out later--one of the guys down the hall, who knows me and didn't even say anything. Then again, he's a total jerk, so I should've known better). I stagger to my feet, and I can barely walk, but I manage to get to Sarika's dorm. When I get there, she got me some ice and we talked for a while, then she decided we needed to get me back to my dorm. We get to my dorm, and luckily we run into one of the guys down the hall, Andrew. I told him what happened, and he concluded that it wasn't dislocated because I could move my fingers. He thought I needed to see a doctor, so he looked up when Campus Health was open (it closed at 4:30, and by this time, it was about midnight), but he found an emergency line I could call. I called (I was on hold FOREVER) and spoke to the doctor on call. I told him my problem, and he said (crankily), "Uhh...I can't really diagnose you over the phone, so if you can go to sleep, sleep and then go to Campus Health in the morning. But if you can't sleep...go to the emergency room tonight." Idiot. Andrew said he was willing to take me to the emergency room, but I didn't want to make him do that. He took me in his room, wrapped an athlete ice pack (he probably got it from lacrosse) around my elbow, and said goodnight. I went back to my room, took some Ibprofen, and went to bed. I slept on and off.
Tuesday, I woke up and I was in so much pain and I couldn't even move my arm. I decided to skip sign language and go to Campus Health instead. I was in the waiting room for a very long time, and once again, I made friends with the receptionists. I finally met with a nurse practitioner named Lisette who was older, sweet, and surprisingly really knowledgeable. I told her what happened and proceeded to tell her what I thought the problem was and how I thought it could be fixed (I have learned that with Campus Health, you just have to spell things out for them right at the get-go. If you're nor pregnant or don't have an STD, they just don't know how to treat you...). I tell her that I know it's not dislocated because I can move my fingers, and I don't think it's broken, so it must be like what I previously did to my knee where all of the muscles go into shock and tense up, so you just have to baby it but work at straightening them out. She told me that she was going to take an x-ray anyway, just to be safe. The lady who took my x-ray was heartless, she really was. She pushed, pulled, prodded, and bent my arms in ways that are probably some variation of a colonial torture mechanism. I don't think I have cried that hard in a long time. After my x-rays, Lisette pulled me in to show me the results. "And you thought you didn't need an x-ray..." she says to me. I look at the x-ray, and even a five year old can tell something is wrong there. Your eyes are immediately drawn to a break. It's not just a little line on my bone; it's a thick, BLACK space starting at the top of my bone going straight down to the bottom. Once I look at it, Lisette and the Asian nurse are running around with their heads cut off trying to get the stuff ready to put me in a cast, as if it were a matter of life and death if they didn't put my cast on right away. Huh. Must have been serious. They put me in a Baby Tong splint, which is a splint that goes from the top of my hand, around my elbow, to the palm of my hand and then from my bicep, around my elbow, to my triceps using this material that starts off squishy, then hardens as you have it on. It's really cool! Anyway, Lisette scheduled me with an Orthopedic doctor for the next day so he could better assess how to treat me (basically, Campus Health can only do so much...). Lisette gave me some serious painkillers (heavy duty Vicodin) and told me to not go to class for the rest of the day. So I didn't. :)
Wednesday, my parents drove down to take me to my appointment with the orthopedic doctor. They had to pick up Nicole on Thursday anyway, so they just drove up a day early to get her and to go to my appointment. We went to the doctor's and showed him the x-rays taken at Campus Health. He took one look at them and said, "You need surgery. Not having surgery isn't even an option." I flipped out. Dr. Wild explained that I had broken my ulna all the way through to my elbow joint and that my bone wasn't even connected to my elbow anymore. If my arm were to be simply cast up and have the bones mend themselves together, my arm would be in the bent position and I would have little to no range of motion for the rest of my life. After that, I was like, "Alright. Whatevs." My parents were then in a mad rush to schedule a time for my surgery, get everything figured out with the doctors, and try to see if my surgery would be covered on our insurance. I just sat there quietly and watched my parents basically freak out. It was kind of entertaining. After about two hours, everything was taken care of. My surgery was scheduled for the next day. I was pretty scared to be honest. I made and got a lot of phone calls about my surgery that night. It was nice to know people cared about me. :)
Thursday, I went to the hospital to have my surgery. They dressed me in that fabulously fashionable cloth garb and I sat there and wondered to myself why they even put you in it; it's not like it covers anything. I think they should just have you lay naked on those uncomfortable rolley beds; you would keep the same amount of warmth with or without those itchy pieces of cardboard. Anyway, they put my IV in and kept pumping fluids in like crazy; I took so many freaking trips to the bathroom, it's not even funny. I laid in the prep room for like, 3 hours (I took a nap) before the anesthesiologist came in. I remember closing my eyes for a second and then I woke up and my parents and the nurse were at the foot of my bed. "All finished," the nurse said to me. "With putting the anesthesia in?" I asked. "No, with everything." I look down and there's this hella bulky/heavy cast on my arm and I was like, "Tight." And the next thing I remember is waking up in the hotel room. I ate some dinner and went back to bed. I was incredibly drugged up, you have no idea. Apparently Origene from Rwanda called me on Friday and I just kind of yelled into the phone and went back to bed. I felt so bad. (I emailed him later and told him I was sorry, so don't worry)
I spent the remainder of my weekend at my sister's apartment. She and her roomies took very good care of me. We had Office marathons and Erin made me Dinosaur Pumpkin Toast (which is just toast but cut into the shape of dinosaurs using a cookie cutter and smuthered with pumpkin butter. Basically it's the best thing ever). Sunday night I went back to the dorms. The boys down the hall have taken good care of me. They carry my stuff up the stairs and do other such biddings like opening jars for me or whatever (every night I come into their room to have them open my medicine bottle for me and they all know what is coming so they all just extend their hands to receive the bottle. It cracks me up). Sarika has been an angel through this whole process. Every day, she comes over and undresses me so I can take a shower and the redresses me afterward. It's so embarrassing that I can't even dress myself, but whatever. It's been quite the bonding experience for the both of us, let me tell you. You can't say that you're real friends until a bra's come off, that's for sure. :)
It's been hard living with only one arm. I seriously can't do anything by myself and it takes twice as long to do things. Like this post, for instance. I have been typing a little every day and it's Saturday and I am just now finishing. Oy. But be proud of my accomplishment! Schoolwork takes me forever to do, but thankfully I chose to break my arm at a time when most of my midterms were finished and not that much stuff is going on. Sadly, though, doing the tiniest things exhaust me. I can't clean my room very well, I can't do my dishes in fear my cast will get wet, and I can't do my own laundry (that I don't mind). I can't even open a jar of peanut butter by myself for Heaven's sake. The once-Superwoman now has to ask for help with everything. It's definitely been a lesson in humility, that's for sure. I am in a lot of pain all the time, but the worst part is underneath my splint constantly itches like crazy with no way to scratch it. I stole a wooden s'more skewer from the guys down the hall to itch under my ace bandage wrapped around my arm and we have lovingly named it the Itch-a-Stick. I just have to be careful not to scratch too far down or else I will rip my stitches. And I am kind of getting sick of people asking what I did to my arm, especially people I am just meeting for the first time. I wish I had a cooler story than, "Oh, I just fell and broke my elbow." but I really don't. A guy from my work (his name is Barry and he's 65 and completely adorable!) told me to tell people that I fought a bear single-handedly and that's how I broke my arm. I've adopted that as my story and it's funny to see the expressions on people's faces when I tell them that, either of complete disbelief or of complete amazement. I do like it, though, seeing when people genuinely care about what happened to me and want me to get better. My professors and TAs have been really understanding and very accommodating. I went to Ballroom this week, not to dance, but just to watch, and the advanced students were really worried about me. It's nice to know they actually know how I am and want me to get back on the dance floor. I have an appointment on Monday with the surgeon to see how I am doing and he is going to tell me when I can get my splint/sling off. I hope soon because I am sick of being an incompetent, non-dancing, freak-of-nature anti-Superwoman; I ready to return back to normal.
Thanks to all for all of your prayers and thoughts. Please continue praying for a speedy recovery and for perfect healing. Thank you and love to all!
Sunday, my little sister drove back from Phoenix with my older sister and myself to stay at UofA during her Fall Break (oh, how I wish we had one). Sunday night, she stayed at my sister's apartment, and then on Monday, Katie's roommate drove her to campus. Monday night, I took Nicole to Ballroom with me (we were doing Rumba--one of my favorites!), and afterward, we walked back and were hanging out with the guys outside. I still had my heels on, and I was going to go change them, but I felt that I needed to call Sarika. Turns out she really needed a friend. So I leave my sister in my dorm room, fly down the stairs, and head toward toward PSP. Stupid me, I take the corner out of VDP too quickly and totally biff it and fall right on my elbow. It all happened so fast: one minute I was hurrying to Sarika's dorm, the next minute I am lying flat on the pavement in immense pain. I sort of blacked out a little, and I just laid there for a couple minutes. The sad thing is, there was a whole bunch of people sitting around and they all saw me fall and didn't do anything or say anything (including--I found this out later--one of the guys down the hall, who knows me and didn't even say anything. Then again, he's a total jerk, so I should've known better). I stagger to my feet, and I can barely walk, but I manage to get to Sarika's dorm. When I get there, she got me some ice and we talked for a while, then she decided we needed to get me back to my dorm. We get to my dorm, and luckily we run into one of the guys down the hall, Andrew. I told him what happened, and he concluded that it wasn't dislocated because I could move my fingers. He thought I needed to see a doctor, so he looked up when Campus Health was open (it closed at 4:30, and by this time, it was about midnight), but he found an emergency line I could call. I called (I was on hold FOREVER) and spoke to the doctor on call. I told him my problem, and he said (crankily), "Uhh...I can't really diagnose you over the phone, so if you can go to sleep, sleep and then go to Campus Health in the morning. But if you can't sleep...go to the emergency room tonight." Idiot. Andrew said he was willing to take me to the emergency room, but I didn't want to make him do that. He took me in his room, wrapped an athlete ice pack (he probably got it from lacrosse) around my elbow, and said goodnight. I went back to my room, took some Ibprofen, and went to bed. I slept on and off.
Tuesday, I woke up and I was in so much pain and I couldn't even move my arm. I decided to skip sign language and go to Campus Health instead. I was in the waiting room for a very long time, and once again, I made friends with the receptionists. I finally met with a nurse practitioner named Lisette who was older, sweet, and surprisingly really knowledgeable. I told her what happened and proceeded to tell her what I thought the problem was and how I thought it could be fixed (I have learned that with Campus Health, you just have to spell things out for them right at the get-go. If you're nor pregnant or don't have an STD, they just don't know how to treat you...). I tell her that I know it's not dislocated because I can move my fingers, and I don't think it's broken, so it must be like what I previously did to my knee where all of the muscles go into shock and tense up, so you just have to baby it but work at straightening them out. She told me that she was going to take an x-ray anyway, just to be safe. The lady who took my x-ray was heartless, she really was. She pushed, pulled, prodded, and bent my arms in ways that are probably some variation of a colonial torture mechanism. I don't think I have cried that hard in a long time. After my x-rays, Lisette pulled me in to show me the results. "And you thought you didn't need an x-ray..." she says to me. I look at the x-ray, and even a five year old can tell something is wrong there. Your eyes are immediately drawn to a break. It's not just a little line on my bone; it's a thick, BLACK space starting at the top of my bone going straight down to the bottom. Once I look at it, Lisette and the Asian nurse are running around with their heads cut off trying to get the stuff ready to put me in a cast, as if it were a matter of life and death if they didn't put my cast on right away. Huh. Must have been serious. They put me in a Baby Tong splint, which is a splint that goes from the top of my hand, around my elbow, to the palm of my hand and then from my bicep, around my elbow, to my triceps using this material that starts off squishy, then hardens as you have it on. It's really cool! Anyway, Lisette scheduled me with an Orthopedic doctor for the next day so he could better assess how to treat me (basically, Campus Health can only do so much...). Lisette gave me some serious painkillers (heavy duty Vicodin) and told me to not go to class for the rest of the day. So I didn't. :)
Wednesday, my parents drove down to take me to my appointment with the orthopedic doctor. They had to pick up Nicole on Thursday anyway, so they just drove up a day early to get her and to go to my appointment. We went to the doctor's and showed him the x-rays taken at Campus Health. He took one look at them and said, "You need surgery. Not having surgery isn't even an option." I flipped out. Dr. Wild explained that I had broken my ulna all the way through to my elbow joint and that my bone wasn't even connected to my elbow anymore. If my arm were to be simply cast up and have the bones mend themselves together, my arm would be in the bent position and I would have little to no range of motion for the rest of my life. After that, I was like, "Alright. Whatevs." My parents were then in a mad rush to schedule a time for my surgery, get everything figured out with the doctors, and try to see if my surgery would be covered on our insurance. I just sat there quietly and watched my parents basically freak out. It was kind of entertaining. After about two hours, everything was taken care of. My surgery was scheduled for the next day. I was pretty scared to be honest. I made and got a lot of phone calls about my surgery that night. It was nice to know people cared about me. :)
Thursday, I went to the hospital to have my surgery. They dressed me in that fabulously fashionable cloth garb and I sat there and wondered to myself why they even put you in it; it's not like it covers anything. I think they should just have you lay naked on those uncomfortable rolley beds; you would keep the same amount of warmth with or without those itchy pieces of cardboard. Anyway, they put my IV in and kept pumping fluids in like crazy; I took so many freaking trips to the bathroom, it's not even funny. I laid in the prep room for like, 3 hours (I took a nap) before the anesthesiologist came in. I remember closing my eyes for a second and then I woke up and my parents and the nurse were at the foot of my bed. "All finished," the nurse said to me. "With putting the anesthesia in?" I asked. "No, with everything." I look down and there's this hella bulky/heavy cast on my arm and I was like, "Tight." And the next thing I remember is waking up in the hotel room. I ate some dinner and went back to bed. I was incredibly drugged up, you have no idea. Apparently Origene from Rwanda called me on Friday and I just kind of yelled into the phone and went back to bed. I felt so bad. (I emailed him later and told him I was sorry, so don't worry)
I spent the remainder of my weekend at my sister's apartment. She and her roomies took very good care of me. We had Office marathons and Erin made me Dinosaur Pumpkin Toast (which is just toast but cut into the shape of dinosaurs using a cookie cutter and smuthered with pumpkin butter. Basically it's the best thing ever). Sunday night I went back to the dorms. The boys down the hall have taken good care of me. They carry my stuff up the stairs and do other such biddings like opening jars for me or whatever (every night I come into their room to have them open my medicine bottle for me and they all know what is coming so they all just extend their hands to receive the bottle. It cracks me up). Sarika has been an angel through this whole process. Every day, she comes over and undresses me so I can take a shower and the redresses me afterward. It's so embarrassing that I can't even dress myself, but whatever. It's been quite the bonding experience for the both of us, let me tell you. You can't say that you're real friends until a bra's come off, that's for sure. :)
It's been hard living with only one arm. I seriously can't do anything by myself and it takes twice as long to do things. Like this post, for instance. I have been typing a little every day and it's Saturday and I am just now finishing. Oy. But be proud of my accomplishment! Schoolwork takes me forever to do, but thankfully I chose to break my arm at a time when most of my midterms were finished and not that much stuff is going on. Sadly, though, doing the tiniest things exhaust me. I can't clean my room very well, I can't do my dishes in fear my cast will get wet, and I can't do my own laundry (that I don't mind). I can't even open a jar of peanut butter by myself for Heaven's sake. The once-Superwoman now has to ask for help with everything. It's definitely been a lesson in humility, that's for sure. I am in a lot of pain all the time, but the worst part is underneath my splint constantly itches like crazy with no way to scratch it. I stole a wooden s'more skewer from the guys down the hall to itch under my ace bandage wrapped around my arm and we have lovingly named it the Itch-a-Stick. I just have to be careful not to scratch too far down or else I will rip my stitches. And I am kind of getting sick of people asking what I did to my arm, especially people I am just meeting for the first time. I wish I had a cooler story than, "Oh, I just fell and broke my elbow." but I really don't. A guy from my work (his name is Barry and he's 65 and completely adorable!) told me to tell people that I fought a bear single-handedly and that's how I broke my arm. I've adopted that as my story and it's funny to see the expressions on people's faces when I tell them that, either of complete disbelief or of complete amazement. I do like it, though, seeing when people genuinely care about what happened to me and want me to get better. My professors and TAs have been really understanding and very accommodating. I went to Ballroom this week, not to dance, but just to watch, and the advanced students were really worried about me. It's nice to know they actually know how I am and want me to get back on the dance floor. I have an appointment on Monday with the surgeon to see how I am doing and he is going to tell me when I can get my splint/sling off. I hope soon because I am sick of being an incompetent, non-dancing, freak-of-nature anti-Superwoman; I ready to return back to normal.
Thanks to all for all of your prayers and thoughts. Please continue praying for a speedy recovery and for perfect healing. Thank you and love to all!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
I have decided
to ditch the idea of posting every, single, minuscule detail about my life, because ultimately, it is not that exciting, nor do does anyone want to take the time to read about it. So therefore, only the important things that I find worth value to write about will be posted. My apologies...I am still learning how to do this blog thing minus the raw emotion...:)
Friday night, I worked my first show at Centennial. I arrived a half hour before my (what I thought was my) call time, which was fine because Sam (my boss) put me to work. I think I started off on a good note in Sam's book. The show I worked was called "A Motown Celebration," which was a concert of The Funk Brothers and Mary Wilson from the Supremes. Ya gotta love 60's Soul, baby. I worked the merchandise table for The Funk Brothers, so I worked before the show and after the show (I would have worked intermission if there was one), and I sold A LOT of stuff because both Mary Wilson and The Funk Brothers were signing autographs after the show. During the show, I sat out in the lobby, but I could hear the music loud and clear out there. It was really fun to hear that kind of music live and to "get my groove thang on." During the encore that they played, The Funk Brothers and Mary Wilson sung together and they sung "Ain't No Mountain High." It brought me immediately back to the days of Nothing but the Truth and I began dancing like we used to before our shows. I look down and realize my outfit is white on top, black on bottom and I was sort of lost back in the "times of old." It was really kind of a special moment. :)
I finished with work at like, 11:30, which was about an hour after I should have been finished, but because my sister is a manager there, she had stuff for me to do. Don't mind, though. I was paid for my time. Afterward, even though I was really tired, Sarika made me go over to her dorm to watch Lord of the Rings, the Two Towers with the people in her dorm. So her dorm is basically the introverted honors dorm, which means all of the people in her dorm are NERDS, and I say that in the most loving way possible. Basically they were sitting through the whole movie quoting every line and talking about how every single thing was "epic." I really don't like that movie in the first place (I like the third one best; that one is just really boring because I am so confused) and I was tired, so my negative comments about the movie were coming out like verbal diarrhea. I thought I was going to get flogged by the Lord of the Ring cult worshipers. I ended up going to bed at like, 3:30...
Saturday morning, I wake up semi-early to get the dorm room ready for Lys' parents come for Family Weekend. Yeah, didn't even matter because they never came in the room. To be honest, I didn't even SEE them the entire weekend. Seemingly odd, if you ask me. (Sidenote: I hate Family Weekend if your parents aren't there. I have been to Family Weekend before when I was still in high school visiting my sister, and I felt the same way as I do now. I feel like an orphan. I don't know why, but I look around campus with the students with their parents and I think to myself, "I wish I had parents..." even though I know perfectly well that my parents are only two hours or a phone call away. I have no idea why, but Family Weekend always makes me so depressed...) Anyway, I went over to my sister's apartment to celebrate her roommate, Davia's, birthday. Davia, her friend Stephanie (whom I REALLY don't like...), and I went to the football game. We got there about two hours early, and I was so tired, that I conked out on the bleachers for a slight cat nap. Stephanie wanted to sit by the band (for reasons that really bug me, but that is a story for another day...), and Davia said that once you sit next to the band, it will change your view of UA football games FOREVER! And it did! ...I NEVER want to sit by the band again. It's the most boring place ever. You can't see anything that is going on on the field and all you hear is the stupid Color Guard girls gossiping. Some things from high school don't change. I ended up watching the drum majorette more than I watched that game because I was that bored...
BUT! The cool thing that happened while I was there...I saw David Hasselhoff from Baywatch (his daughter goes to UofA so he is at like, all of the games. He's not as all-that as he thinks he is, but this story is still fun). I was about 10 feet away from him; like, I could spit on him if I wanted to. He was taking a video of the band and the crowd, and since I was standing next to the band in the crowd, I was in his video A LOT. How cool is that to be in a video of someone famous?! Bet you can't say that has ever happened to you. :) After the game, we went back to my sister's apartment and then to Applebees. I was so tired. Called and talked to Em (highlight of my weekend!!)...passed out. Literally. In the same spot I was sitting talking to Em. I seriously didn't move an inch all night.
Today, I haven't done anything. And I literally mean that. I slept in, talked to Jared on the phone, watched five episodes of The Office and now I am at Katie's apartment about to watch more. It's been a weekend full of pretty much everything and yet nothing that exciting...
Friday night, I worked my first show at Centennial. I arrived a half hour before my (what I thought was my) call time, which was fine because Sam (my boss) put me to work. I think I started off on a good note in Sam's book. The show I worked was called "A Motown Celebration," which was a concert of The Funk Brothers and Mary Wilson from the Supremes. Ya gotta love 60's Soul, baby. I worked the merchandise table for The Funk Brothers, so I worked before the show and after the show (I would have worked intermission if there was one), and I sold A LOT of stuff because both Mary Wilson and The Funk Brothers were signing autographs after the show. During the show, I sat out in the lobby, but I could hear the music loud and clear out there. It was really fun to hear that kind of music live and to "get my groove thang on." During the encore that they played, The Funk Brothers and Mary Wilson sung together and they sung "Ain't No Mountain High." It brought me immediately back to the days of Nothing but the Truth and I began dancing like we used to before our shows. I look down and realize my outfit is white on top, black on bottom and I was sort of lost back in the "times of old." It was really kind of a special moment. :)
I finished with work at like, 11:30, which was about an hour after I should have been finished, but because my sister is a manager there, she had stuff for me to do. Don't mind, though. I was paid for my time. Afterward, even though I was really tired, Sarika made me go over to her dorm to watch Lord of the Rings, the Two Towers with the people in her dorm. So her dorm is basically the introverted honors dorm, which means all of the people in her dorm are NERDS, and I say that in the most loving way possible. Basically they were sitting through the whole movie quoting every line and talking about how every single thing was "epic." I really don't like that movie in the first place (I like the third one best; that one is just really boring because I am so confused) and I was tired, so my negative comments about the movie were coming out like verbal diarrhea. I thought I was going to get flogged by the Lord of the Ring cult worshipers. I ended up going to bed at like, 3:30...
Saturday morning, I wake up semi-early to get the dorm room ready for Lys' parents come for Family Weekend. Yeah, didn't even matter because they never came in the room. To be honest, I didn't even SEE them the entire weekend. Seemingly odd, if you ask me. (Sidenote: I hate Family Weekend if your parents aren't there. I have been to Family Weekend before when I was still in high school visiting my sister, and I felt the same way as I do now. I feel like an orphan. I don't know why, but I look around campus with the students with their parents and I think to myself, "I wish I had parents..." even though I know perfectly well that my parents are only two hours or a phone call away. I have no idea why, but Family Weekend always makes me so depressed...) Anyway, I went over to my sister's apartment to celebrate her roommate, Davia's, birthday. Davia, her friend Stephanie (whom I REALLY don't like...), and I went to the football game. We got there about two hours early, and I was so tired, that I conked out on the bleachers for a slight cat nap. Stephanie wanted to sit by the band (for reasons that really bug me, but that is a story for another day...), and Davia said that once you sit next to the band, it will change your view of UA football games FOREVER! And it did! ...I NEVER want to sit by the band again. It's the most boring place ever. You can't see anything that is going on on the field and all you hear is the stupid Color Guard girls gossiping. Some things from high school don't change. I ended up watching the drum majorette more than I watched that game because I was that bored...
BUT! The cool thing that happened while I was there...I saw David Hasselhoff from Baywatch (his daughter goes to UofA so he is at like, all of the games. He's not as all-that as he thinks he is, but this story is still fun). I was about 10 feet away from him; like, I could spit on him if I wanted to. He was taking a video of the band and the crowd, and since I was standing next to the band in the crowd, I was in his video A LOT. How cool is that to be in a video of someone famous?! Bet you can't say that has ever happened to you. :) After the game, we went back to my sister's apartment and then to Applebees. I was so tired. Called and talked to Em (highlight of my weekend!!)...passed out. Literally. In the same spot I was sitting talking to Em. I seriously didn't move an inch all night.
Today, I haven't done anything. And I literally mean that. I slept in, talked to Jared on the phone, watched five episodes of The Office and now I am at Katie's apartment about to watch more. It's been a weekend full of pretty much everything and yet nothing that exciting...
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