Complete interrogation.

English major:

And this is what I want to do with my life.

No, not be a barbie-a-holic. Come on, guys.

I want to write interesting, witty, somewhat unimportant articles that still have a purpose/opinion behind them for newspapers, magazines, or perhaps msn.com. :)

It's my dream job, really.

Also, on a completely different note, the most bizarre thing happened to me yesterday. I left work, looking for my car in its regular parking place; however, it wasn't there. Looking to my left, I see it about 30 feet away, parked diagonally in 3 different parking places.
"What the HECK?" I thought as I walked toward my car.
I circled it, looking for a boot, a note, ANYTHING to explain why my car had involuntarily been moved during the space of 4 hours in which I had been working. I checked to locks to make sure they were all locked (like normal) and they were. There was nothing. Absolutely no explanation. I somewhat cautiously got into my car and looked for a note on my seats, but there was nothing there, either. That's when I spotted the small slip of paper hidden under my windshield wipers. I got out and read it. This is what it said. (Sorry for the vulgarity..)
"I hope you don't **** like you park, you will NEVER get it in."

"Oh my gosh! What on earth is going on?!"

I had a million and one things go through my head, but mostly I was just freaked out over who moved my car. All day long I felt as though my privacy had been completely invaded-- and the situation was just so BIZARRE... I couldn't stop thinking about it!

I know, it's killing you too, isn't it? What could possibly have happened? IT JUST DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!!! AHHH!

Well, fortunately for the betterment of my tirelessly inquisitive mind, I DID find a resolution. However, I've found that it makes the story much less interesting if divulge that resolution.

Therefore, I'm withholding. I know, terrible of me, isn't it? (However, that horribleness might just be to pique your curiosity enough to leave a comment on my blog-- as that is my underlying motive for everything. Perhaps, then, I will tell you.)

(Also, if you, the person reading this blog, happens to be one of my lovely roommates, and consequently decides to divulge the mystery of my moving car-- I will dip your fingers in vegetable oil and corn flakes and fry them in my Foreman grill. And then I will name your children George. Or Beth. You choose. I love you.)

Another thing:

I'm adding to my Christmas list.

It now consists of:

1. "A" grades.
2. Christmas souffle.
3. "A" grades next semester, too.
4. A Christmas tape.
5. Britney Spears 2009 tour tickets.

This is not a joke.

Also, I would kill for some good mistletoe loving right about now.


Jon said...

Okay, even if there really is a resolution, that's still a creepy story.

B said...

Please tell me the resolution....
The suspense is KILLING me!
Love you!

kendra said...

Wow. I now know that I will never cross you. EVER. I do not want french fry fingers, thank you.

I'm glad that you did figure it out though.

I love you too.

brooke said...

that was the best threat i've ever received.

Rebeccah Louise said...

freaking a.
i need to know.

claire.bear said...

Come oooonnn!
How rude of you, honestly.

JulSH said...

Just let me know who to tell Chad to beat up...maybe we'll send Terry to sit on them as well. Grandpa has been known to take down a few people in his day...if needed.

Kimberly Massengale said...


i love her new album!!!