AuburnChick's Adventures

Ok. So in the last three days, a couple of truths have hit hard.

One: I don’t have many friends. Oh, don’t be sad for me. I just find it kind of funny. On my way home from visiting with family, I called a friend who had promised to help me get the rats home from the boarding facility. Their cage simply does not fit in my small vehicle. Well, something unexpected came up with my friend, and I didn’t want to be a bother. So, rather than making her life more complicated, I offered to find another person to help me.

AuburnChick looks at the phone…flips it open…and NOTHING! Ok…I’ll call…?????. Nobody’s name comes to mind. Are you kidding me? I can’t think of even one person’s name? Nope. Uh oh. Am I going to have to pay someone to keep my rats while I sit perfectly happy at home…all because I can’t find someone to help me? Grrr… I briefly consider stopping at the gas station and making a new “friend.”

Fortunately, my one friend calls me back with a solution. She called another friend, who just happens to be one of our co-workers (we work at the same place), and she’s going to help me. So, AuburnChick gets to borrow her friend’s friend for a day.

Anyhow, my rats got home safe and sound.

Now, the second hard lesson I’ve learned recently is that I’m getting old.

Yes, I know, I know. I should have listened to my daughter all of those times that she made statements referring to this point.

So…how did I figure this out?

Simple.

Guitar Hero 3.

See, AuburnChick’s mom was kind enough (yeah, right) to give AuburnChick’s son this game for Christmas. Well, AuburnChick has a sister who decided that she really digs the game. So, said sister dear and AuburnChick’s daughter decide to have a Guitar Hero 3 Girls-Only Tournament.

Great…

I mean, it’s not like I’ve never played video games or anything. I spent my share of time in front of the Atari and Nintendo. Donky Kong and Frogger were my friends. Simply press the right arrow and the Go button. Piece of cake.

Not so with the new stuff that’s out today.

Well, out of the goodness of their hearts, AuburnChick’s kin very kindly let me have a practice song or two, in which I tried desperately to memorize the order of the keys…green, yellow, red…or is it red, yellow, green? Anyhow, I did o-k-a-y, and so the tournament began. Well, people, I guarantee you that AuburnChick invented a new way to play the guitar. The only way I could get my fingers to sometimes press the correct buttons was to position my left hand behind and over the top of the handle-thingy at the top.

Yeah, it was ugly, but it kept me in the game for a little while…until the seemly slow song ramped up for a tortuous 12 minutes!!!! My wrists were KILLING me! I finally started pressing all of the buttons at the same time, unwilling to give up but praying that the game would…finally…END!! And it did.

I lost, by the way…my dream of becoming the next Guitar Hero Diva down the toilet.

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Ok. I’m trying to figure out when going to a high school sporting event became, for the adult spectators (i.e. parents), more about trying to figure out the names of the girls (or the boys) who are giggling and, basically, acting dumb around us.

See…I took my daughter to the boys soccer game last night. Of course, the kids are sitting a few rows up — but loud enough for us to know they are there. The parents are watching the game but eyeballing the girls and guys in the stands. You know what we’re all doing? Trying to put faces with the names we hear all the time.

Plus, now we’re trying to figure out which parent goes with which child. Cause you know…my daughter likes someone’s son. Is it you? Could I be sitting beside the parents of the boy who my daughter likes, spends lunch with, and sits on the couch at youth group with?? Gee…I hope I don’t say anything dumb…like maybe something about their child who is now making grievous mistakes on the field, but whose parents are sitting beside me, and I don’t know it yet.

Ok. So the boys won the soccer game, but did I get any closer to figuring out who birthed the boy who wants to be more than just “friends” with my little girl? Guess I’ll be going to a lot of those games…

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Wondering about the title, are you?? I’ve got, what I think at least is, a good story for you today.

All was progressing just fine in AuburnChick’s home this morning. I managed to get up about 20 minutes early, knowing I had to work out of town for the day. So I’m dressed, hunting for my belt, getting ready to settle down with the kids to do devotions. And then it hits me…

Pain…in my tummy area…slowly building.

Hmmm…okay, I think…small tummy ache. A quick trip the bathroom and all is better. Or so I think.

We get through devotions, and I’m starting to feel it again. Pain…in my tummy area…building a little faster this time.

I say to daughter, “Daughter, get Daddy to take you to school today. Mama is going to hang out here for a minute.” Or so I think.

So, I start feeling a bit better and decide to try to go to work. All is well until I start crossing the bridge. Pain…in my tummy area…hurting quite badly…must find a place to stop.

CVS, are you open? Of course not. It’s only 8:05, and it’s the Christmas season, but are you open early??? Of course not. I drive on.

I finally see a gas station that looks like it has an inside bathroom. I rush past the lady stocking sodas and check the door. Women. Good. Wouldn’t want to make this story THAT interesting!

20 minutes later…all is good. Should I proceed. Of course! I’m a dedicated employee. I do not want to let my people down. On I drive.

Oh no…you cannot be serious…again…the pain…in my tummy…building quickly and painfully.

Oh, there’s the brand-new Target. Gonna have nice clean bathrooms…located right in front. Gotta love Target!

So, by now, I’ve figured out that I’m not going to make it in to work…gee, how many stops was it gonna take. I pull out the cell phone (ok…gross, but I’m sick, so who cares).

“Hello, AuburnChick’s husband speaking.”

“I’m stuck in the bathroom in Target. I’m coming home.”

“Are you sure you can’t stay and work?”

That man better be glad he wasn’t where I could throw something at him. I firmly tell him no, and when I peel my bottom off of the potty, I’m taking it on home.

So, I start to go home…get over the bridge…and then…pain…in my tummy…so much more painful than the other times.

I move over to the right lane and notice a cop behind me. Yeah, all I need is to get pulled over right now. I watch my driving while looking out for a place to stop.

Now, in this country of fast food restaurants, where you can find one every 100 feet, don’t you think that I would have easily found one? Of course not! This really isn’t my day. The only thing I see is on the left side of the street. Of course. And I’m in the far right lane on the other side…with a cop behind me. Rats.

I finally decide to make a turn that will take me closer to home. I’m really, really panicking now. The last thing I want to do is clean up the mess that is surely on its way. I’m still not seeing a place to stop…and this is not a big city, mind you…and I’m not being picky.

Oh, look, a dental clinic, with cars in the parking lot! I see a sign that says exit only. Yeah, right. Try making me go around. Dare ya!

I rush in, stick my head all the way through the little hole at the front desk (you know…the one they try to cover up with sliding glass) and beg to use the bathroom, explaining to the entire place that I’m sick, and I don’t have an appointment, but I just really need to use their bathroom. Thank goodness they didn’t think I was crazy…or maybe they did…but they still let me in.

Ahhhh…20 minutes later I sneak out without seeing a soul (did I clear the place out??).

I proceed home with a couple more bouts of severe pain that I am determined to suffer through. I catch every light. Of course. C’mon God. Please…have mercy. Seriously.

I finally, finally made it home and see Mr. AuburnChick’s car in the driveway. Fortunately for him, he steered clear as I set the world record for the 50-yard dash…doubled over at the waist.

Bet you won’t see that at the Olympics!

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Wow! Two posts in one day! How lucky did you get? What can I say…it is Saturday, and I just do not feel like writing those two long papers that are due next week (shh…don’t tell my professors). But I digress…

Have you ever felt like you were under a microscope? That’s how I felt today. First, a bit of history, since I don’t think it would be fair to deny you all of the juicy details of my life.

While on vacation in California, I treated myself to a trip to the first nail salon I found. This was after I confirmed that my credit card was working. Wanna hear that story? Naw…not today…

Anyhow, I got myself a nice set of pink and white acrylics. It’s always difficult to communicate with the nice ladies in those salons, so I did my best to explain how I wanted my nails done. They didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted, but it was okay.

All was good, and I got through my vacation with nice nails. We returned home, and life returned to normal.

Well, this morning, I thought I would venture out, get my nails done, relax…

As the technician began working on my nails, she started talking to another gal, who came over and started closely inspecting my nails. Then they start chattering. Another gal comes over, and the same thing happens. I nervously chuckle and ask if anything is wrong. The technician working on my nails asks where I got my nails done. I told her in California. She asked if I was from around here. I explained that I live here, and that I was on vacation. Nothing else is said. Meanwhile, more chattering between the technicians…me not having a clue about what they are saying. I try a lighthearted joke about feeling like a science experience. That went over like a dead weight.

When she finally got done, and it was obvious that I just LOVED my re-done nails, she laughed and told me that my nails were, uh, not very good before. Here’s my new nails:

Good thing I have a sense of humor (despite what my daughter says). I think I’ll stick with my Florida nails!

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