FYI

February is "Return Shopping Carts to the Supermarket Month."

So! Let's all put forth an extra effort for the rest of this month to get those shopping carts back where they belong!

(I am not making this up.)

oh...crud.

My sister once told me exactly what to do if I ever got pulled over by a cop. In a nutshell, you very slowy and gingerly reach for your license, insurance and registration, while explaining to the cop exactly what you are doing and profusely assuring him that you are proceeding with such slow caution so as not to alarm him. The idea is that you are so courteous it's almost funny, and he lets you off scott-free.

Although you may laugh, I admit that I had this well-rehearsed. I spent much time scheming exactly what I would do when I got pulled over on 8th street in Columbus, where I sped every single day for an entire semester. (It's very hard to go 25 when you're late for class.) First I would smile sweetly, and then I would explain that, although a glovebox may be a prime place to hide a gun, I most assuredly was not getting a gun. I would also serenely inform him that though I may look suspicious fishing around between the two front seats, it was simply because I had a lot of junk in my purse and was having trouble locating my license.

As you might guess, things didn't pan out exactly as planned. Let me paint you a picture. It's 10:30 pm, and I'm on the way home from Seward with Merrill and a friend. I'm on the north edge of David, right where the speed limit goes back to 60. I'm booking it for home, and it happens. For the first time in my whole life, I undergo the sensation of seeing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror. You should've heard me. "Is that a cop? Am I being pulled over by a cop?! WHAT DO I DO??"

Yeah, me. Pulled over. Just lovely. And that perfect little scenario that would leave a cop laughing and ensure my freedom from all things ticket-related? It flew the coop. I admit that instead I felt slightly, um...flustered. So flustered, in fact, that I took off my seatbelt. How dumb can you get?!?! Not only am I in trouble for whatever-it-is, but on top of that, I don't have my seatbelt on?! I swear...

Envision this next sentence said in a snappy, no-fooling-around-with-me female voice. "So-and-so, with the David City Police Department. You've got a headlight out." She slaps the hood of my van in a matter-of-fact way. (Then she goes up and reads the license plate off to her little mic thingey-majig. Like I'm some busted out refugee or something.)

"Oh, I do?! Really!"
"Yup. License, registration, and insurance please."
By this time I was feeling very meek indeed. "Umm...are these the right ones?"
"As long as they're current."

While she was back in her car fiddling around, it suddenly struck me as widly humerous. I started giggling. "You guys!! I just got pulled over by a cop! How hilarious it that?!"

I don't think I would have found it quite so funny if I had done something to warrant my name being in next week's local paper, but as it was I simply had to replace the bulb and have any constable sign that I had done so. (And yes, everything from speeding to marijuana usage gets your name in the paper.)

Besides, now I've got one up on most of my friends. Have YOU ever been pulled over by a cop?

we find you fascinating...

Click on image to see it larger.

more wiki humor

I got an email from my sister today. (This be the sister who found the stellar answer to "does hedgehog have swine flu?" on WikiAnswers.) The subject of the email was "As if I hadn't already lost all respect for WikiAnswers..."

Then there was this link: How does Hydra Move?

Wow, Wiki. Sooo helpful.

"mountains of snow"

There are frequent mornings when my sister and I walk down the stairs to find a little white sheet of paper heralding us from the kitchen counter. It reads something along these lines: "Girls - today please...vacuum the living room. Pick up the bathroom. Sweep the office." The jobs vary, but you get the idea.

This morning, the list said: "shovel the front walks."

Two girls, two walks in need of shovelment. Seems easy enough. Except for one thing. As it happened, one of the sidewalks had your average amount of snow on it, while the other was piled high with snow. It seems the snow had drifted considerably right along that sidewalk. It was up to my hips, and I exaggerate not.

However annoying this problem may seem, it is easily solved if you have an easy-going younger sibling. I casually asked her if it mattered which sidewalk I shoveled, and because she conveniently hadn't seen the front walks yet, I was home free.

Just as I was whisking the last bits of snow off of my walk, I heard a tap at the window. Merrill was glaring out at me as she jerked her thumb towards her walk. I laughed, but then I decided to be a sacrficial sister and help her out. Obviously some good intentions are just not to be. I broke the snow shovel.

Immediately after my brief shoveling escapade, I had to leave for work. When I came home, I found this drawing on my whiteboard.

I am really going to miss this girl when I move to Omaha.

Laughing...

My sister and I are sitting on the couch tonight, each doing our own thing on our own computers. Suddenly she bursts out laughing...apparently she is doing a bit of research on hedgehogs (she has a pet hedgehog), and finds some interesting information via WikiAnswers.

And I quote:

Q: Does hedgehog have swine flu?
A: No You retard. Hedgehogs arent real.

After Audrey shows me this extremely pertinent information, we both bust our guts laughing. Wow.

Gotta love WikiAnswers!

(See here. :))

My sister's VERY real hedgehog...

late for lab

There I was, chilling at the very front of the line of cars that twisted like a snake throughout the entirety of downtown Columbus. I had previously been booking it to school, when the little red-and-white arms came flying down into my face with a "ding ding ding!" I hate trains. Especially those really obnoxiously slow ones that make you late for class.

This is what the train did: sloooowly crept foward until the very middle car was directly centered over my crossing. Then it stopped for awhile. Eventually, the grungy wheels begin turning again - backwards. Stopped. Started up again, moving approximately fifty yards, this time forward. Repeat this little boogie five or six times over the next twenty minutes, and you've got the idea. Yeah. Backward, forward. Backward, forward. I think the cunductor was either asleep or drunk.

This is what the clock did: ticked. Moved forward. Chronicled the passing of time.

This is what I did: parked, shut of the engine, turned on my iPod, took pictures of myself and graffiti on my new camera, glanced at the clock, freaked out, calmed down, and tried to find the hilarity in it all. Meanwhile the train and the clock are both still doing their thing.

And guess what?! I was late for lab!

So here are the pictures I took - on my new camera - while cooling my heels. :)

REALLY?!

This is really maddening...
Right...twenty minutes later...

(Does my skin look funny? The beauty specialist at Walgreens told me I had the weirdest skin-tone she had ever seen...)

Oh, and that graffiti? Well, the picture isn't too stellar...

LOL!

Crossed Fingers

homeschooled?

A bit of homeschool humor for us awesome homeschoolED kids. :)

this one's a doozy

I have had some peculiar and disturbing experiences with guys. Like Andrew, Mr. I'll-hypothetically-ask-you-out-over-text-so-if-you-say-no-it-won't-be-like-I-actually-asked-you. (I said no.) Or the random guy at the mall. "This isn't a pickup line, I promise..." BWA-ha-ha...yeah right. Desperate duck.

But this one isn't quite like the rest. Yesterday I got a text from a number not previously stored in my contact list.

Mystery Person: Whats up
Me: um, who is this?
Mystery Person: M__ J__ what u up to girl
[I must insert: at this point I busted up laughing because it just so happens that this guy's brother used to work for my dad! One of those 'I see you...but you don't see me' things.]
Me: Um, I think you have the wrong number...
No Longer Mysterious Person: whose this
Me: Who do you think it is?
Not At All Mysterious: idk

So I immediately text my older sister and we both enjoy a pretty big chuckle. Perhaps he simply found a random number and decided to text it - to which my dad says "so he took a fifty-fifty chance and hoped it was a girl." Or, he thought it was somebody else and, darn the luck, it was me.

Either way, I got my laugh for the day. :)

yeah, we look alike

I was playing around on Yearbook Yourself, yearbooking (never knew "yearbook" was a verb, did ya?) my sister and me. This kinda cracks me up.

The years are 1960, 1952, 1958, and 1985.

laughing at myself

After two evenings buried well beyond the top of my poll in physics, I was finally done. My homework was written out on five notbook pages, front and back, in the most orderly and neat handwriting known to Yours Truly. I was happy. I could walk into class the next day, boldy hand over my homework, and feel that I had done my best.

Putting all my papers in order before heading to bed, I glanced up at mom. "So...I just give these to him tomorrow? Is there anything else I do?" Instantly, the stupidity of such a statement hit me. Here I am, taking college classes, and I don't even know how to turn in an assignment. My mom informs me this is something one learns in the first grade.

So, she very nicely suggests that I staple all the papers together, considering that there are a fistful and they all have similar math written down on them. Aha! Staple them together! Good idea. Anything else, Mom? She attempts to keep a sober face as she responds: "well...it might be nice to put your name on the top..."

*bangs head against wall*

Seriously. I'm seventeen, taking physics, and my mom has to tell me to write my name on the top of my assignment.

I love being homeschooled. =)