Story Times.

Hello, hello? Is anyone out there? I've noticed a lacking (as in no) response to my blogs recently. You and I both know that my these tales are really just a poor man's adventure and I never claimed to have anything exciting to say whatsoever. But come on, I thought for sure a ginger with a Marilyn Monroe tie hitting on me in front of a bathroom would elicit some buzz. Perhaps an e-mail from Nani full of horror at the situation. This is juicy stuff, guys.

But alas, if no one is reading I will keep on writing! I have a full list of items on my phone and there's nothing you can do about it! Although I must insert a disclaimer here; earlier this week I accidentally deleted everything I was going to write about in this post-the terror!!!! So what I'm recalling is straight from the ol' cranium. Just a good old fashioned stream of consciousness from yours truly. (And because I'm waiting for Eric to pick me up to go to Spring Retreat. And he is never on time.)

Earlier this week I took a little gander to the Farmer's Market downtown. Sometimes I forget its there, and then I go and regret ever stepping foot in Trader Joes and Safeway. We got a deliciously fresh dinner (where else can you buy Afghan food?! So good), and I supported our local farmers with a hefty bag of peaches. And homemade rosemary salt bread. (my first choice was a mult-grain walnut raisin bread. I couldn't stop "MMMM"ing over it, but with the Prince being just a little deathly allergic, that was a no go). Of course in our usual wonderful luck it started getting a little chilly. Then chillier. We left.

I didn't think this next story anyone would get a kick out of, but Miss Andi requested that I include it; so here goes. It all starts Freshman Year. Andi and I were enjoying the sunshine (probably eating hummus or Thin Mints), when we see a peculiar man stride in on his bike. You may now scroll down for photographs. This man was wearing what appeared to be womens yoga pants, witch boots (eerily similar to the ones I made my Mom get rid of), neon socks on his chicken legs and a cap on his head. On the back of his bike he had strapped a full-size broom with bungee chords, confirming our suspicions that he actually was a witch. It was a comical moment, but quickly forgotten (after I snapped a creeper picture, of course). Fast forward to last week at the Farmer's Market. I see something. Something that makes me scream and jump up and down and squeal. Eric thought I was choking but I quickly stopped him from give me the Heimlich and simply pointed.  It was the witch. Wearing the exact. same. outfit. Again, see picture below. (Broom and bike were unfortunately not spotted). I told Andi I had a surprise for her and of course I had her rolling on the ground when I showed her the picture. I swear, this stuff only happens to me.

How can I follow that story up? With a deaf tour, of course!! Yep, you heard me right. (Ooh...bad choice of words?) I had to lead a school for the deaf on a tour around campus. The translator tried to sign while walking backwards, but it took her all of 10 seconds to realize that walking backwards is for professionals, onllllaayyyyy! I felt bad, but what could I do? I talked using as many hand motions as possible. I think this trumps being called a tall midget by 6th graders.

One last little gem (I realize this post is more of a collection of stories, because lets face it; nothing exciting is happening to little old me). I decided that it would be a good idea to eat CREAM at 10pm. Then see Spider Man at 10:30pm (on a Wednesday). Then uncontrollably sob (I'm talking uggggly tears) for the duration of the film-but that's a different story. Sitting in front of CREAM (for those not familiar, it stands for "Cookies Rule Everything Around Me". 2 cookies of your choice with a heaping scoop of ice cream in between. Yes. Please.), I see a couple get into their car. The man proceeds to finish off his ice cream sandwich, violently throw his wrapper on the ground, and even more violently turn around and flip off CREAM. ...... Really don't know what that was about, but I wasn't sure if I should crack up or run for my life. I'm telling myself that he was so angry at them because they made him break his diet. Or something. Sigh, Davis on a Wednesday.

I just knew I would be able to write this before Eric got here. Too predictable, my friend :) Oh, I went to Reno last weekend and shot guns, but I'll save that for next week when I'm in the midst of Week 8!! Summer is so close I can taste it!


Update: as it turns out, I will have to post this after spring retreat. I have to upload the pictures from my phone and really, what is this blog post without pictures of witch man?

 

Spring '13

 

Spring '14