Tag Archive: lost

Until my class ends, you’re going to be experiencing really sub-par posts.  I just can’t seem to get a handle on my time-management.  For instance, while I got home today at an hour that allowed for plenty of time to achieve all of the things I needed to complete today, my time management was seriously lacking.

For instance, I meant to go to my gym this morning.  Instead, I slept in until 9:17 am and proceeded to take a thirty minute shower.  Why the hell!? What a waste of water.  And all I did was sing loudly and stand under the hot water until I decided, oh, yeah, maybe I should stop being a life-ruiner and wasting all of this water.   I mean, I didn’t even deep condition my hair, for goodness sake.  Sometimes I justify an excessively long shower by putting on a three-to-five minute conditioning treatment. Or sometimes, I justify it by shaving my legs.  I didn’t do either of those things today. Even though my legs are embarrassingly hairy right now.

Then, because my life is obviously a mess, I went to the doctor’s office to have my blood drawn for another appointment I have next week.  (Nothing major- don’t freak out.) The only thing is, my doctor is an hour away from where I live. Why is that, you might ask? Because I never have my shit together or all my ducks in a row enough to have all of my essential, necessary-for-life things all in one place.  That would be too easy.  So, I listened to Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (OH MY GAWD, IT’S SO GOOD! HOW COULD I NOT HAVE READ THIS BOOK AGAIN SINCE 2004- OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!) on CD for, like, 48 minutes because I had a moment of ADD while driving where it was seriously like, zomg I can’t focus on listening right now, I need to sing my face off to some Glee covers right now, in the middle of my trip back to O-Town, but after Pokerface (with the lovely Idina Menzel) I feel I can actively listen to Harry Potter again.

So, then, I panicked in the doctor’s office because I really don’t like needles and blood really freaks me out. (Do we not all remember my bloody nose?!) But, turns out, that procedure takes all of, like, 45 seconds to complete. So I was in and out of that office.

I managed to make it to the library before all 8 or 9 of my items expired and I was hit with some outrageous fees.  I also picked up a few items that were waiting for me (The Office, Season 4; Now that’s what I call Club Hits, and Total Club Hits 2). Before you even ask, I’ll tell you why I wanted some club hits.  It’s because I’ve been trying to perfect my fist-pump so I can rock the clubs like those hooligans from the Jersey Shore.  Bahahaha! No, actually, it’s because those CDs have songs I like that have been remixed to have higher beats per minute.  I’ve been trying to create a kick-ass workout playlist so I don’t want to die when I’m at the gym.

I stopped by the bank after that and transferred some funds for my Study Abroad trip, which I’m so excited for.  Have I told you all about that yet? No? Looks like that will have to come at a later date.

I did have a long, fun lunch with one member of the Tripod, which was glorious. But after that was done, I had to drive another hour back to where I actually live.  I listened to HP the whole way home this time.  I was in a bit of a food coma, so listening was really I was capable of doing anyway.

Next, I wandered around my school trying to locate the stupid Study Abroad office. It is like Narnia or something. I have looked and looked and looked on more than one occasion and I cannot find it.  It is obviously not at all like the Room of Requirement; otherwise it would have appeared to me on one of the few occasions I have been wandering around looking for it.  And don’t tell me to just ask someone, because I totally have.  The yahoos at the information desk either don’t know where it is either or they just don’t know how to effectively communicate to me where the location of the office is.  And the office where I ended up today seemed confounded and didn’t even know where it was or how to explain how to find it to me.  Some lady told me to go to the other end of the building and that Alex’s office was on the left. The left of what?! I walked to the other end of the building and looked like an idiot, wandering around trying to find an office that will not reveal itself to me.

Sucktown, population: me.

Instead, I snuck into my mom’s office, stole one of her envelopes, wrote Alex (the study abroad advisor I have been in contact with) on the envelope along with my name and student number, sealed my first payment check inside and called it good. I told those yahoos at the information desk to just put it in his mailbox.

Then I came home, and that’s where time got away from me.  One minute I was listening to my club hits and then I got a text message about a theme day at work tomorrow, Major League Baseball.  I don’t even know what that means.  I guessed that that meant I should wear something to do with the Detroit Tigers because that’s baseball.  But then I realized I, of course, do not own anything that is Tigers- related, and I won’t just not participate in theme days. I love theme days! So you can bet your bottom dollar I went out and bought a Tigers shirt that was somewhat cute- and it was 25% off to boot!

But, because we live in the middle of BFE, it takes like 40 minutes to get anywhere. So that was a giant waste of time- except for the fact that I got to listen to Harry Potter again so it wasn’t that big of a waste.

I stumbled upon a website called Tastefully Offensive, and that was a giant time-suck.  I just kept watching video after video and giggling to myself on the couch.  I had every intention of editing a group project paper, but that didn’t start until about 8 o’clock, and it was much bigger of a task than I had originally thought. So now, I’m writing this post at the last possible second and it’s all about crap you don’t care about. And my contacts are starting to stick to my eyes and I really just want to be in my bed watching Twilight or The Office or something.

So, yeah.



My jury duty service is now over! The trial finished yesterday afternoon, and I’ve been just bursting to tell you what happened!

Here’s the deal, loves: I’ll share my jury duty experience in three parts, starting with my first-day-observations. You know, the words-to-go documents saved on my Crackberry I told you about last week.  I’ll tell you the specifics of the case and then I’ll tell you about our verdict and how deliberations went.

I know you’re all dying to know.

My very first day, just to give you a snapshot of what a mess I was, I texted a friend then decided to tweet the following:

Already got lost, almost cried, forgot to put deodorant on, got wanded by security,& left all my school stuff at home. Today is going so well.

It should be noted that I have, like, zero sense of direction, so I obviously got lost (despite my mapquest directions) on my way to the courthouse. Then, because I was lost and because I’m so anal about not being late for anything ever, I got hysterical. This led to high levels of stress and anxiety, and that led to some degree of perspiration, not that the humidity here in Michigan did anything to help that. And that was when I realized I definitely forgot to put deodorant on. The Horror!! I just kept thinking, I had it in my hand, but did I actually put it on?! and I totally didn’t, which makes me wonder what on earth made me so ADD that morning to forget something so essential?!

I had my final night of my accounting class that evening I realized I didn’t have any of my school stuff after I had already left and didn’t have enough time to turn around and go back.  I wasn’t sure if I would have time in between my jury duty stuff and when I needed to leave to drive the hour and fifteen minutes it takes to get to class from my hometown. MORE PANIC! Why, oh WHY, did I not wear deodorant?! How is it possible to apply my Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue perfume but forget the deodorant?!??! HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?!

Once I got past security and followed other people I assumed to be reporting for jury duty down a hallway, I found the jury assembly room. Nothing special. Just a big room with beige walls and lots of chairs. And plenty of opportunity to people-watch and judge ’til my heart was content!  That’s when it struck me to record my thoughts via words-to-go.

Sometimes I have really good ideas.

Title: Jury duty observations

There are several unattractive people here. Many of the people  here in this holding pen have sick coughs. Gloria, in all her monochromatic glory, scanned all of us in. (She’s in charge of wrangling all of us potential-jurors.) She’s fabulous: I love her hair, and her plum colored tank-skirt combo is simply stunning.   She just put in a “movie” for us to watch while we wait in “line” to be scanned in. (This is one of the worst “lines” I’ve ever seen, although it certainly can’t beat the “line” we waited in to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince at midnight. That was Terrible, with a capital T.) Some people showed up who did not have to be here. Sucks for them.  I really love the movie 12 Angry Men.  This video being played, as far as I can tell, is a compilation of Hollywood blockbusters that have something, anything!, to do with court, lawyers and the legal system,  and/or the importance of having a jury. I’m in love. Damn, I need to go to law school.

Title: Jury duty observations, part 2

Well, I feel jipped so far; my father indicated that a real-life judge would come in and speak to us about how important juries are and other crap like that. I have not seen any real-life person other than Gloria, who I am certainly not complaining about. I just want more real-life and less late-90s video footage.  This video feels like the craptastic videos I watched in driver’s training or sex ed.  I whisper-laughed to myself a moment ago about this move and looked to see if anyone else was laughing too; no one even looked remotely amused. AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO IS EXCITED TO BE HERE?!?!

Title: Jury duty observations, part 3

Shit, I really, really hope I get picked! I hope I get picked and it’s a sweet case. I hope it’s just like 12 Angry Men and I’m the lone voice of reason. I hope me and my fellow jurors get sequestered and we all become bffs. I hope I end up on The Today Show after the ruling has been made.

Title: Jury duty observations, part 4

I’m bored. Looked through purse for gum. Found some.  Examined split ends. I need a haircut.  Compared the amount of back-fat everyone in front of me has. I should get plastic surgery- I’m much too lazy to do any of that necessary work to get rid of it.  Girl in front of me has a peculiar haircut; I don’t understand it. I can’t tell if I like it. It’s long- reaches mid back- but there are very short layers and not much blending of said layers.  It’s odd to me.  People are starting to get antsy like me.  Gloria’s laugh is funny; I like it.  I wish I wouldn’t have forgotten my backpack at home- actually, more than anything, I wish I wouldn’t have forgotten to apply deodorant today. I’m paranoid I reek.

Title: Part 5

OMG! The judge is ready! In ten minutes (or so, says Gloria), we will head into the court room!  A real-life court room! Gloria explained that we need a “juror badge,” which is really just a sticker- and she even gave instructions!  “Just peel it off, and stick it on!!!” Gosh, I love her!! GLORIA IS AWESOME! AND HILARIOUS! She is making all kinds of jokes and worrrrrrkin’ this room! She’s talking about the “employer verification forms” and how you can take that form back to your employer… or spouse. “It happens!” Bahaha jeeeeez, she is SO great.  She just made a joke about menopause. I love herrrr!

That’s it. That’s all that’s saved on my phone.

Because after that I had to turn my phone off because it wasn’t allowed in the court room.

Part II will be here on Thursday 🙂

Not too long ago, I got a message on facebook from a family friend. She is younger than me and definitely not of the legal drinking age here in the lovely USofA. Luckily, good old Canada is just next door. So, she asked me to borrow (have) one of my old IDs so she and her friends could cause a raucous among the canucks.

This normally would be no big deal; my moral compass does not frown upon aiding the youth in their drunken debauchery- just ask my angelic brother (keep on fighting that peer pressure, brother bear! love you!).  I thought, oh what the hell! As long as her father does not find out that it was ME who supplied those hooligans with an over-21 ID, then shooooot, those girls better have a good time. I refuse to be held responsible for the corruption.

What? I'm totally fine. Not wobbly at all!

But then I remembered I’m a hot damn mess when I drink. And although I drink waaaay less than I used to (I may have been black-out drunk for the years of 18 and 19), old habits die hard. At 22, I’m responsible. I’m an adult. I make wise choices. I know my limit.

Stop laughing, okay? SOMETIMES I make wise, responsible, adult choices.

ANYWAYYYYY, I accept that I am a heap of trouble after two drinks.

Unfortunately for the family friend who shall remain nameless to protect the innocence of both of us, I had to tell her that I’m irresponsible and lack any identification other than my current ID.

I decided not to share with her all the details as to why I no longer have any past IDs or any extra ones laying around. But, dear readers, I’ll share some of those details with you now.

Junior year of college is when I really started getting sloppy. Or when I just stopped being as accountable for hanging onto my own belongings. Looking back, it seems like sophomore year of college was better because I had other people to hold my stuff when I got too drunk. One winter’s night, I was over-served.  Generally, when this happens, I’m still pretty anal enough to feel the need to brush my teeth, take my contacts out and remove my eye makeup. I’m fairly certain I even changed into some semblance of pajamas (read: no pants).  I can’t remember now how I made it home that evening, but the important part is that I did indeed make it home.

I awoke the next morning with the panic that I had noooo idea where my cute little wristlet was. Frantic, I launched myself out of bed and ran into the living room. There, I found evidence that we had done some “pre-gaming” (the counter and glass table(s) were stickyyyy and a couple of empty fifths remained). I also found that I apparently struggled with my shoes and had made like Hansel and Gretel, leaving a trail not of breadcrumbs but clothing, beginning at the front door. Nowhere in the million pockets of my zip-up fleece (at least that made it home, unlike the one that was STOLEN at that one party… RUDE.) was my wristlet. I checked my jeans. Not there either. Not even looped through one of the belt loops.

I stalked down the girl who lived at the place I had been the night before and sent her a message on facebook, asking her if someone had left a wristlet behind. I scoured mine and Erica’s apartment. I called my other friends, asking if they had it, remembered me having it, or knew where it might be.  NOTHING. No one knew anything.

Begrudgingly, and under the advice of my all-wise mother, I reported my debit card “lost or stolen” and resigned myself to the fact that I had indeed lost that tube of chapstick, a $20 bill, and my wristlet. AND that I would have to give up a perfectly adequate break between classes usually dedicated to a nap to waiting FOREVER at the Secretary of State’s office that Monday.

A WEEK LATER, I finally got around to making my bed. (My dad probably was probably stopping by, lol.)  Before I even got a chance to get busy making hospital corners with my sheets, I noticed there was a lump I didn’t appreciate. Something black and small had found its way underneath the blankets.  CAN YOU GUESS WHAT THAT SMALL BLACK THING WAS?!

My freakin’ wristlet. Filled with my now-canceled debit card, a tube of chapstick, a $20 bill and my driver’s license.

I don't want to talk about it.


I’m an idiot.

I know this story just makes me look like an idiot who just misplaces things only to find them in random-ass places rather than someone who has had to replace her license three times in the last year, but the point was that I’m a shitshow and shouldn’t be allowed to carry my own stuff. I also understand if you think less of me now.

Ps. I now have two driver’s licenses because the one I lost a month ago was magically sent to me in the mail. If only she had waited one more week to go to Canada…!