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.)
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.
Baptism, grandparents, and Marathon Kids
2 months ago