Well, things in general have been going good, but I finally have something to talk about.
WE'RE MOVING.
Back in February when Matt and I bought Toki, we decided a good way to save money was to protest our rent going up $30 every semester and move to the cheapest place in town. Seriously. If our apartment now is a shoe box, this place is a hole in the wall. But I really don't mind. We will be saving over a hundred dollars a month for the rest of our short duration here and best of all, we won't be surrounded by the dorms, the school, the tennis courts, and thirty other apartment units. I just might get some peace and quiet.
We went on the waiting list in February and tried to sell the rest of our contract but couldn't con anyone into buying our shoe box for about two hundred dollars more than what it was worth. About every other month I had to call the manager of our new apartment and remind her that we were the people on the crumpled up post-it note that should be first on the list if only her website wasn't remedially made by someone from Idaho who doesn't understand that in the great land out east phone numbers can in fact have zeros in them.
But I digress....
No. No I don't.
This manager, we will call her Betty, is either the biggest ditz on the planet or doesn't care about her job in the least bit. She has at times left me speechless with her level of unprofessionalism. At the end of July I was getting antzy because she still hadn't called me to let me know we had an apartment for September. So once again I took matters into my own hand.
I called her up and was like, hey, its Mrs. Post-It. I asked her if she knew whether or not we would have an apartment for fall, because if not, I needed to start looking for another place. She told me she was waiting one more day to hear back from two people about whether or not they were going to renew their contract and that she would call me tomorrow. If I didn't hear back from her the next day, I should look for another place, she said.
Fair enough.
About 3:30 in the afternoon and no call. Surprise, surprise. I call her, and here are the actual words that passed between us.
Betty: Hi. I'm glad you called. I was about to leave in 10 minutes. I have an apartment for you if you are still interested.
Me: We are still interested. When can I come sign the contract?
Betty: Today before 5 would be great.
Me: Oh, it will have to be Monday because I work until 7 tonight. I'm on my lunch break now.
Betty: Well that's a problem because I have to have this contract signed by today.
Me: (Stunned. Taking a moment to gather my composure.) Wow. Had I known that I would have made other arrangements but I don't get off work until seven.
Betty: (sighs) Well, I have family coming in town tonight but I guess just stop by when you get off work.
Me: Thank you. You are too kind. I'll see you at Seven.
Fast forward a bit. I am still stunned that she wouldn't even tell me if I got the apartment I would have to sign on it that day. But when I left the house a little voice inside me told me I would need to bring my checkbook.
Now. Below I will give you a brief description of what transpired at our meeting. PLEASE let me know if you feel anything I did or said was out of line.
I found her apartment/office and when I arrived she asked her what appeared to be two year old son if he wanted to go with mommy or stay with daddy. Daddy, lounging on a bean bag chair mumbled, "He wants to go with mommy."
That's professional. Not that I minded, but I wouldn't take my kids to work. Especially not when there is a perfectly capable adult at home to watch them. But whatever.
So upon MY request we go see what is to be my new home, and she knocks on the door. I can hear someone scuffling and talking inside but no one comes to the door.
"Well, I guess their not home," Betty says. "Should we go back up and sign the contract?"
Again, stunned. "Wait, what?" I stammer in disbelief. "I can't sign for something I haven't seen."
"Well they aren't home," she says matter-of-factly. I'm starting to wonder what she is hiding.
"Actually, they are. I heard someone inside. Don't you have a key?"
"I do, but this is their home and I'm not just going to barge in."
"Well I'm not going to sign into a legal contract on something I haven't even seen. I've been scammed before."
At this point, she made an effort to pick up her son and hold him close to her. Her doey eyes turning all defensive. "You don't have to sign the contract," she said.
"How would I know if I want to sign it if I haven't even seen the place? I can't do that."
I was about to plead with her and ask her if I could come back tomorrow or monday and try again, when by only the grace of God the current tenants emerged from the den of mystery. They seemed happy to let me take a look around. I didn't notice any gaping holes in the wall or creepy stains in the carpet and the toilet flushed just fine. But still. I'm not stupid enough to sign on a place I haven't seen.
So when Betty and I go up to sign the contract, I asked her if I needed to pay the deposit today. When she said yes, I said, "Glad I thought of that."
We talked about when we can move in. The current tenants had paid for the entire month of August but were planning on moving out early for part of the 7 week break. I told her we were going on vacation on the 20th and wouldn't be getting back til the end of August. It would help us out a lot if we could move in on the 19th. She told me she would have me get with the current tenants so we could arrange way I could buy out the last half of their contract for August.
When I told her I didn't have the money to do that she said, "Well I'll just call you then if they move out before the 19th.
Yes, I'm sure you will, Betty.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
Really Really Sorry
I know I haven't written in a while. I know that. I'm sorry.
MY LIFE IS JUST SO BORING RIGHT NOW!!! I like it. But to everyone else it's probably boring. There isn't much to even say about my trip home. Except that it was relaxing.
Sorry to both of you guys who read this. Please forgive me :)
MY LIFE IS JUST SO BORING RIGHT NOW!!! I like it. But to everyone else it's probably boring. There isn't much to even say about my trip home. Except that it was relaxing.
Sorry to both of you guys who read this. Please forgive me :)
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Adventures In The Chair
I am a self-proclaimed procrastinator in two things: filling the gas tank, and going to the dentist. You can guess which one gets me into more trouble.
Its not the needles. Really. (even though I know from personal experience which spot in your mouth is the most painful to receive anesthetic) Its not the numb lip, or the little bib they put around you just in case the local anesthetic causes you to loose control of your saliva glands. It isn't even the instruments that mimic the shrieks echoing from the darkest depths of hell.
No. What keeps me far away from any animated teeth wearing shades and grasping toothbrushes like sabers, is the ridicule. That's right. Dentists are snobby, money hungry, and just down right mean! And not to mention creepy.
Here's how I see it. If I'm going to shell out HUNDREDS, maybe even THOUSANDS of dollars I expect not necessarily respect but to at least be treated like a human being.
You have to understand....I got braces when I was in 4th grade, and didn't even get them off until I was a freshman in high school. Braces are a life changing event. Believe me, I could dedicate and entire blog just to the horrors of headgear. Its not like you go to the orthodontist one day, and he's like, "Here's your braces, have a nice day!" Oh no! Check-ups every 8 weeks. And usually with check-ups come....*grimace*.....tightening.
The Ortho tries to dress it up and make it "fun" by letting you choose the shade of rubber band he so sadistically wraps around your tooth. "Well it's December now. How about some Christmas colors, eh?"
Eggh. Anyway. That's not the worst of it. Every check-up the ortho would be "frustrated" because the progress wasn't going the way he'd expected. He'd complain that I wasn't brushing right or not wearing my headgear. (even though I had the dark circles from sleepless nights to prove it!) I would always think, well, stop crabbing at me. I'm 13. I didn't put these on myself. ;/
But probably the most disturbing visit was the last one, when he presented me with Polaroids of my progress through the ages. I was non-nonchalantly flipping through them when I found ones of my eleven year old self passed out cold in the chair.
"Oh, that's when you fell asleep," he played off. "Isn't it cute?"
Just for the record, I don't ever remember being asleep there. EVER.
I'll admit, getting my wisdom teeth surgically removed was probably the best two weekends of my life. They basically consisted of skipping work, sleeping, watching movies, eating ice cream, and taking controlled substances in two hour intervals.
Few years back I had a root canal and had to go to an "specialist." The entire two hours I was in that chair he never said one word to me that wasn't some sort of a command. No "hello, I'm the guy with the drill," no exchanging of pleasantries, nothing. I might as well have been a Mitsubishi.
But I digress....
Over the last few years, there have been several occurrences where a normal person would have gone to the dentist. I never got a crown on one of my root canals. This negligence resulted in a swirling black hole where enamel should be on my back molar. Last year, my front tooth filling was pulled off by a starburst, leaving behind an embarrassing brown spot. Oh well, I thought. At least I'll fit in better at Walmart.
For a few months I ate on the right side of my mouth, because if the other side came in contact with anything like salt, sugar, hot or cold beverage, I would sometimes feel a sharp pain jetting up into my upper jaw. The pain would eventually throb into the neighbor teeth until it was calmed by ibuprofen. But eventually ibuprofen stopped working. And even extra strength Tylenol stopped soothing the pain. Once I started waking up in the middle of the night and swallowing any pills I could find, hoping and praying that I would wake up alive the next day, I knew my fate was inevitable. I was going to have to go to the dentist.
With a heavy heart, I broke the news to Matt at 4 am. We have no insurance. This was going to be a doosie. Over two thousand dollars, according to the only dentist that was open on a Saturday. Luckily, he was so busy, he just prescribed me some awesome drugs and rescheduled me for a week later. Leaving me plenty of time to search for a cheeper, I mean, second opinion.
And I found one. Following rumors and doing my homework saved us about $800. And I'll say, this place was more like a day spa than a dentist's office. An LCD t.v. A fire place in the corner, (next to the chaise, of coarse) and headphones. The hygienist put a fancy pillow under my knees and a gas mask over my nose. I really want to bottle that stuff and bring it home. That stuff is great. The best way I can put it into words, is that I was (excuse my french) tripping balls. I was totally disconnected from my body, having a "meaning of life" conversation with...someone....I think it was a Care Bear. The green one. Or maybe the yellow one. And when I closed my eyes, I learned the most intricate secrets of the universe. To bad I can't remember any of it.
I do remember this. Dr. Dentist waited till I was completely under to say, out of no where, "I really hope your husband appreciates you." To which I replied, "Its all good."
That's what Care Bear said anyway.
Its not the needles. Really. (even though I know from personal experience which spot in your mouth is the most painful to receive anesthetic) Its not the numb lip, or the little bib they put around you just in case the local anesthetic causes you to loose control of your saliva glands. It isn't even the instruments that mimic the shrieks echoing from the darkest depths of hell.
No. What keeps me far away from any animated teeth wearing shades and grasping toothbrushes like sabers, is the ridicule. That's right. Dentists are snobby, money hungry, and just down right mean! And not to mention creepy.
Here's how I see it. If I'm going to shell out HUNDREDS, maybe even THOUSANDS of dollars I expect not necessarily respect but to at least be treated like a human being.
You have to understand....I got braces when I was in 4th grade, and didn't even get them off until I was a freshman in high school. Braces are a life changing event. Believe me, I could dedicate and entire blog just to the horrors of headgear. Its not like you go to the orthodontist one day, and he's like, "Here's your braces, have a nice day!" Oh no! Check-ups every 8 weeks. And usually with check-ups come....*grimace*.....tightening.
The Ortho tries to dress it up and make it "fun" by letting you choose the shade of rubber band he so sadistically wraps around your tooth. "Well it's December now. How about some Christmas colors, eh?"
Eggh. Anyway. That's not the worst of it. Every check-up the ortho would be "frustrated" because the progress wasn't going the way he'd expected. He'd complain that I wasn't brushing right or not wearing my headgear. (even though I had the dark circles from sleepless nights to prove it!) I would always think, well, stop crabbing at me. I'm 13. I didn't put these on myself. ;/
But probably the most disturbing visit was the last one, when he presented me with Polaroids of my progress through the ages. I was non-nonchalantly flipping through them when I found ones of my eleven year old self passed out cold in the chair.
"Oh, that's when you fell asleep," he played off. "Isn't it cute?"
Just for the record, I don't ever remember being asleep there. EVER.
I'll admit, getting my wisdom teeth surgically removed was probably the best two weekends of my life. They basically consisted of skipping work, sleeping, watching movies, eating ice cream, and taking controlled substances in two hour intervals.
Few years back I had a root canal and had to go to an "specialist." The entire two hours I was in that chair he never said one word to me that wasn't some sort of a command. No "hello, I'm the guy with the drill," no exchanging of pleasantries, nothing. I might as well have been a Mitsubishi.
But I digress....
Over the last few years, there have been several occurrences where a normal person would have gone to the dentist. I never got a crown on one of my root canals. This negligence resulted in a swirling black hole where enamel should be on my back molar. Last year, my front tooth filling was pulled off by a starburst, leaving behind an embarrassing brown spot. Oh well, I thought. At least I'll fit in better at Walmart.
For a few months I ate on the right side of my mouth, because if the other side came in contact with anything like salt, sugar, hot or cold beverage, I would sometimes feel a sharp pain jetting up into my upper jaw. The pain would eventually throb into the neighbor teeth until it was calmed by ibuprofen. But eventually ibuprofen stopped working. And even extra strength Tylenol stopped soothing the pain. Once I started waking up in the middle of the night and swallowing any pills I could find, hoping and praying that I would wake up alive the next day, I knew my fate was inevitable. I was going to have to go to the dentist.
With a heavy heart, I broke the news to Matt at 4 am. We have no insurance. This was going to be a doosie. Over two thousand dollars, according to the only dentist that was open on a Saturday. Luckily, he was so busy, he just prescribed me some awesome drugs and rescheduled me for a week later. Leaving me plenty of time to search for a cheeper, I mean, second opinion.
And I found one. Following rumors and doing my homework saved us about $800. And I'll say, this place was more like a day spa than a dentist's office. An LCD t.v. A fire place in the corner, (next to the chaise, of coarse) and headphones. The hygienist put a fancy pillow under my knees and a gas mask over my nose. I really want to bottle that stuff and bring it home. That stuff is great. The best way I can put it into words, is that I was (excuse my french) tripping balls. I was totally disconnected from my body, having a "meaning of life" conversation with...someone....I think it was a Care Bear. The green one. Or maybe the yellow one. And when I closed my eyes, I learned the most intricate secrets of the universe. To bad I can't remember any of it.
I do remember this. Dr. Dentist waited till I was completely under to say, out of no where, "I really hope your husband appreciates you." To which I replied, "Its all good."
That's what Care Bear said anyway.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Matt Starts School
Its only been two days, but take one look at our apartment and you'll know it is currently occupied by a student. A backpack, fully stocked, sits anxiously by the front door. Books and binders are scattered about the couch and coffee table. The computer in the bedroom constantly displays a document written in some sort of foreign math format.
When Matthew is home, he is distant - with good reason. He is either nose deep in a heavy text book, frantically scribbling on a piece of paper, or hunched over the computer desperately trying to stay awake. I only utter a few select phrases to him, and he usually only responds after a long pause. I really don't mind. I mostly feel sorry for him.
This brings mixed feelings on my part. After a long, somewhat leisurely, semester off, we are both excited he is progressing in his schooling again. But I'm also suppressing my worries. He is taking some difficult classes, and while I'm confident he can do it, I don't want him to be overwhelmed. I also can't help but think back to last summer. It sucked. Many times we passed each other on the stairs and I only saw him to kiss him goodnight and good morning. While others packed up to go camping or travel to see family, we shlepped off to our jobs, exhausted. We were, however, very blessed to spend a weekend with his sister after a lot of fanagling and maneuvering.
I'm hoping this summer will be different. I know it will be on my part at least. I know what to expect from him right now, and I honestly have come to terms with it. I think I will enjoy our time together a lot more now. I know "dates" will be fewer and farther between, but we can still have little moments during the day when his mind isn't on school or work. I know that on these dates he may feel the need to trace the PH formula on the restaurant table cloth. But it's all part of his learning process. I'm also working less hours at the job I hate than I was last summer. I have a feeling that's going to help a lot.
But I'll let you know how it goes.
When Matthew is home, he is distant - with good reason. He is either nose deep in a heavy text book, frantically scribbling on a piece of paper, or hunched over the computer desperately trying to stay awake. I only utter a few select phrases to him, and he usually only responds after a long pause. I really don't mind. I mostly feel sorry for him.
This brings mixed feelings on my part. After a long, somewhat leisurely, semester off, we are both excited he is progressing in his schooling again. But I'm also suppressing my worries. He is taking some difficult classes, and while I'm confident he can do it, I don't want him to be overwhelmed. I also can't help but think back to last summer. It sucked. Many times we passed each other on the stairs and I only saw him to kiss him goodnight and good morning. While others packed up to go camping or travel to see family, we shlepped off to our jobs, exhausted. We were, however, very blessed to spend a weekend with his sister after a lot of fanagling and maneuvering.
I'm hoping this summer will be different. I know it will be on my part at least. I know what to expect from him right now, and I honestly have come to terms with it. I think I will enjoy our time together a lot more now. I know "dates" will be fewer and farther between, but we can still have little moments during the day when his mind isn't on school or work. I know that on these dates he may feel the need to trace the PH formula on the restaurant table cloth. But it's all part of his learning process. I'm also working less hours at the job I hate than I was last summer. I have a feeling that's going to help a lot.
But I'll let you know how it goes.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Feb, Mar, Apr.
For a couple of reasons, I've fallen out of the blogsphere for a while. Mostly because its hard for me to write when I don't have anything to write about. For the last couple of months, the blogs that I read all seem to consist of topics like, "I'm having a baby!" or "I graduated!" or "We're moving!" "We bought a house!" "Baby pictures!" "I got the job!"
Which are all great, happy things. But the most breaking news in my life would have to be...."I bought new jeans!" I'm not unhappy with my life, (except for one teensy weensy part of it....226 days) but in this place it constantly feels like everyone is rushing past my while we are just slowly creeping along. I'm very hesitant to get to know people, since most likely they will be leaving this land of limbo before I do.
One of the blogs I read is a girl who mostly writes about the stuff she likes to read and watch. I couldn't do much of that either, since most things I like aren't very popular and I'm kind of embarrassed by them.
So with nothing important to say, I've just said nothing at all. My father-in-law, who is one of the two people that read this blog, has been missing it, which is kinda nice to know. So for his sake, here is what's been going on the last few months:
I'm still working. At the gym and WM. The gym is great. Its hard work, but it feels good to be using a skill I have to make a living. A meager one, but a living nonetheless. WM still sucks. Even more so, now that they instituted this new program that makes us write down everything we do and take our breaks at specific times. We have about as much independence as kindergartners during nap time. Not to mention it makes every weekend an 18 hour period for me to think about the terrible decisions I made in high school and college.
That's basically all thats new, er, going on, with me specifically. I'm thinking about making a decision. Something that would change a lot of things. But I'm not going to make any official announcement until I tell my parents. Matt is still working full-time, but getting ready to go back to part time as the new semester starts. I'll be praying hard for him everyday, since he's taking a lot of brain melting classes. I know he can do it, but not without a lot of studying and patience.
I'm getting excited for the warm weather. There was a blizzard today :) Yesterday was really nice though. We took a walk without jackets on. And this morning, I had to shovel out the car.
*shrugs*
Which are all great, happy things. But the most breaking news in my life would have to be...."I bought new jeans!" I'm not unhappy with my life, (except for one teensy weensy part of it....226 days) but in this place it constantly feels like everyone is rushing past my while we are just slowly creeping along. I'm very hesitant to get to know people, since most likely they will be leaving this land of limbo before I do.
One of the blogs I read is a girl who mostly writes about the stuff she likes to read and watch. I couldn't do much of that either, since most things I like aren't very popular and I'm kind of embarrassed by them.
So with nothing important to say, I've just said nothing at all. My father-in-law, who is one of the two people that read this blog, has been missing it, which is kinda nice to know. So for his sake, here is what's been going on the last few months:
I'm still working. At the gym and WM. The gym is great. Its hard work, but it feels good to be using a skill I have to make a living. A meager one, but a living nonetheless. WM still sucks. Even more so, now that they instituted this new program that makes us write down everything we do and take our breaks at specific times. We have about as much independence as kindergartners during nap time. Not to mention it makes every weekend an 18 hour period for me to think about the terrible decisions I made in high school and college.
That's basically all thats new, er, going on, with me specifically. I'm thinking about making a decision. Something that would change a lot of things. But I'm not going to make any official announcement until I tell my parents. Matt is still working full-time, but getting ready to go back to part time as the new semester starts. I'll be praying hard for him everyday, since he's taking a lot of brain melting classes. I know he can do it, but not without a lot of studying and patience.
I'm getting excited for the warm weather. There was a blizzard today :) Yesterday was really nice though. We took a walk without jackets on. And this morning, I had to shovel out the car.
*shrugs*
Monday, March 1, 2010
Joyeux Anniversaire!!
My Burffday. (cuz that's how black people say it)
My birthday started out like any other day. I got up sometime around 8 am, and picked out my sweatpants for the day. Being that this was a special day, I chose the snazzy black velvet sweatpants and matching jacket that Kaye got me for Christmas. I absolutely love it. It's pretty much the most professional sweatsuit I've ever seen.
On the way to work I grabbed breakfast at Jamba, a special treat I do about once a month. No one really knew it was my birthday, but I didn't mind. I used the time to quietly soak in the concept of 25. I actually have a strict "NO WORK ON BIRTHDAY" policy. But I'm only at the gym on Mondays for about 2 1/2 hours anyway. Everyone tells me how much my kids miss me when I'm gone so rather than finding a sub I just celebrated with them.
After work I just took the next few hours to relax. I took a long shower and layed around while my hair dried watching Marie Antoinette, a birthday tradition I started about three years ago. Its one of my favorite movies, for lots of little reasons I have a hard time explaining.
All the while, Matt was running around doing errands. It was weird to sit there and let him do everything. During the afternoon he was in and out of the apartment twice, bringing in shopping bags and making phone calls. "Is that what I look like?" I wondered.
Monday was not only my birthday, but also the only night that Matt, myself, Scott and Chelsea were all off work. We owe them dinner for a lot of help they gave us during our car crisis. So we went to 5 GUYS. Best. Burgers. Ever. And fries. Don't even argue with me.
After dinner we met more friends at this little joint in Rex where you can play laser tag and mini-golf. I decided I wanted to go out and actually DO something for my birthday, and that is pretty much the only indoor activity in Rexburg except the rock wall company that is in the gym I work at. :/
I'll be honest, laser tag could have been better. I've only been twice before, and both times were really fun, the main reason being our group of friends were the only individuals involved. But this particular night at The Craze was hoppin'. Lots of FHE families wanted to play laser tag and The Craze shoved as many people in that room that standard fire codes would allow. So, being under the impression that I was going to play laser tag with MY friends on MY birthday and was instead forced into a room of strangers, the majority of them being pre-adolescent boys who do nothing all night but first-person-shooters, I was a little perturbed.
It was literally like shooting fish in a barrel. And more often than not, I was a fish. Once I figured out my strategy of crouching in one place and shooting anyone that came near me, it was fun.
After The Craze, we went back to my apartment lounge and had burffday cake. A few days earlier, Matt and I went to the grocery store and picked out a cute little white chocolate and strawberry number.
This is how dorky the people are I hang out with are: When "Happy Birthday" was sung, I heard three different languages!
Aubrey said Matt did a really good job picking out my presents and I'll say I have to agree. Since I was debating so long about whether or not I wanted a birthday, I never really told him what I wanted. When he would ask me, jokingly I would say, "A basket of assorted kittens, or one puppy." But he took all of my interests and hobbies in mind and did a great job. I love him :)
My birthday started out like any other day. I got up sometime around 8 am, and picked out my sweatpants for the day. Being that this was a special day, I chose the snazzy black velvet sweatpants and matching jacket that Kaye got me for Christmas. I absolutely love it. It's pretty much the most professional sweatsuit I've ever seen.
On the way to work I grabbed breakfast at Jamba, a special treat I do about once a month. No one really knew it was my birthday, but I didn't mind. I used the time to quietly soak in the concept of 25. I actually have a strict "NO WORK ON BIRTHDAY" policy. But I'm only at the gym on Mondays for about 2 1/2 hours anyway. Everyone tells me how much my kids miss me when I'm gone so rather than finding a sub I just celebrated with them.
After work I just took the next few hours to relax. I took a long shower and layed around while my hair dried watching Marie Antoinette, a birthday tradition I started about three years ago. Its one of my favorite movies, for lots of little reasons I have a hard time explaining.
All the while, Matt was running around doing errands. It was weird to sit there and let him do everything. During the afternoon he was in and out of the apartment twice, bringing in shopping bags and making phone calls. "Is that what I look like?" I wondered.
Monday was not only my birthday, but also the only night that Matt, myself, Scott and Chelsea were all off work. We owe them dinner for a lot of help they gave us during our car crisis. So we went to 5 GUYS. Best. Burgers. Ever. And fries. Don't even argue with me.
After dinner we met more friends at this little joint in Rex where you can play laser tag and mini-golf. I decided I wanted to go out and actually DO something for my birthday, and that is pretty much the only indoor activity in Rexburg except the rock wall company that is in the gym I work at. :/
I'll be honest, laser tag could have been better. I've only been twice before, and both times were really fun, the main reason being our group of friends were the only individuals involved. But this particular night at The Craze was hoppin'. Lots of FHE families wanted to play laser tag and The Craze shoved as many people in that room that standard fire codes would allow. So, being under the impression that I was going to play laser tag with MY friends on MY birthday and was instead forced into a room of strangers, the majority of them being pre-adolescent boys who do nothing all night but first-person-shooters, I was a little perturbed.
It was literally like shooting fish in a barrel. And more often than not, I was a fish. Once I figured out my strategy of crouching in one place and shooting anyone that came near me, it was fun.
After The Craze, we went back to my apartment lounge and had burffday cake. A few days earlier, Matt and I went to the grocery store and picked out a cute little white chocolate and strawberry number.
This is how dorky the people are I hang out with are: When "Happy Birthday" was sung, I heard three different languages!
Aubrey said Matt did a really good job picking out my presents and I'll say I have to agree. Since I was debating so long about whether or not I wanted a birthday, I never really told him what I wanted. When he would ask me, jokingly I would say, "A basket of assorted kittens, or one puppy." But he took all of my interests and hobbies in mind and did a great job. I love him :)
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