Angels in the Outfield

12 Sep Reinactment Photo

I’m making this two parts for those of you that just want to be clued in on a hilariously awkward Sarah story.  Yous guys can stop reading at part two where I get a little emotional and preachy, but maybe there are some of you out there that need it as much as I do, so that’s for you :)

Part I: Sarah Story

I was in Seattle this week for work and my coworker and I ditched our standard 12 hour day a little early to catch the Astros/Mariners game.  Two teams who are very near and dear to my heart for obvious reasons.  I was wearing my Uncle’s SUBA 61 jersey that his 6’4” bullpen catcher/coach self wore in the early 80’s (read: this thing falls well below my knees and I looked completely ridiculous).

At my request, my coworker purchased tickets ten rows behind the Astros dugout so I could try and catch a glimpse of my main man, Adam Everett.  A few of the players looked back to see the lone Astro fan behind their dugout, swimming in her jersey, but no real acknowledgement.  Until the conclusion of the 4th inning.

The Astros’ players were running in from the field and everyone in our section stood up to try and get one of the balls that the player was going to toss into the stands.  I stood up with my right hand halfheartedly in the air and my left hand at my side holding my beer.  The ball was tossed.  My hand was in the air.

THE BALL LANDED IN MY FREAKING HAND!!!!

When I say “landed” I mean, it just floated right in there.  I didn’t even MOVE my hand.  I have 200+ people that were nearby and can confirm this story, including my coworker who said “WHAAAT?!?! That seriously all just happened in slow motion!!!”  Everyone started clapping and cheering and I was still standing there in shock with my hand in the air (oddly enough, not the first time this has happened).

After the shock wore off (roughly six [very long] seconds), I looked around and made eye contact with all the cheering/laughing/smiley Mariner’s faces and yelled to everyone “OH MY GOSH I JUST CAUGHT THAT!”

Realizing that everyone was in fact now laughing at my reaction, I immediately sat down and put my head in my hands.

I could not.

Stop.

Laughing. 

My coworker deemed it as an opportune time to make a food run, leaving me there in my lonesome to settle down…which didn’t happen for another two innings.

That hilariously awkward moment gave me a huge realization that I have really needed this past year.

Reinactment Photo

Reenactment Photo

Part II: Much Needed Life Realization

I have been down and discouraged.  I have been needing a major pick-me-up, like… for a while.  I feel I’m approaching the time in life when your bubble is burst and you start seeing all the bad in the world.  It’s my understanding that most people start seeing this post high school, or post college… so I thought I had survived the epidemic that is ‘growing old’ as I have personally stood in the face of tragedy and shared in the tragedies of my close friends.  Allow me to put it in perspective though…  it wasn’t until six months ago that I learned that wine has calories.

I’ve been bopping through life, drinking calorie free wine and I remember very vividly, last June after hearing about the Brazilian soccer match throwing my hands up in the air and calling it quits.  There is no good left in the world.  This world is a terrible place.  Depressing, right??  As someone that avidly follows the news and world events, you can only imagine the downward spiral I have been on this past year.  So many tears shed for the hurt of this world.  For friends who are sick.  For loved ones who have passed.  For broken, broken hearts.  This world is full of sadness and death and fear and quite frankly my small insignificant speck of a heart can’t take anymore.

The worst part is, I know the “fix”

Love God, Love others.

Serve God, Serve others.

Know God, know peace.  No God, No Peace.

It’s all about the company you keep.

WWJD, amirite?!

Ok those are all super corny/cliché phrases, most of which I’ve seen on billboards between Abilene and Dallas, TX.  And to be honest, that’s exactly what they feel like to me right now… “super corn/cliché phrases.”  I know that those phrases, while cliché, have incredible depth and power behind them… but the truth is, I’m just not there yet.

Where I’m at is… when I need a pick-me-up more than ever, God sends a baseball flying into the palm of my hand causing smiles and laughter for myself (2 full innings worth) and the entire section of 139 at Safeco field.  There is good in this world and God giving us glimpses of it every chance He gets.  It’s up to us to create more opportunities for Him.  It’s up to us to love the world in His name.  Here is my tiny little attempt to share smiles and love and brighten a day or two in His name :)

Root, root root for the AAAASSSSSSSSSTROS!

A Thank You To The Patriots

16 Apr battlekidcrop

If you’ve held a conversation with me for more than 43 seconds it’s likely you’ve heard me talk about how much I love the city of Boston.

Sox Games

Sox Games

Singing Sweet Caroline at Sox games

Singing Sweet Caroline at Sox games

Pats Games

Pats Games

Celtics Games

Celtics Games

Ducklings

Ducklings

4th of July

4th of July

4th of July with Neil Diamond

4th of July with Neil Diamond

FALL!

FALL!

I could go on forever… feel free catch up on some of my previous posts that are dedicated to my city:

Visito[u]r Guide: Boston, MA

Burb Dwellers vs. City Slickers – My soap box about people thinking Boston is a rude city

Top Ten Moments in the History of (my Experience with) Boston Sports! (aka the time I Arsenio Hall’d Ray Allen)

The Month That Was – aka the best month of my LIIIIIIFE

Definitely can’t forget about the available bachelors!! (LOVE YOU WOLFIE!) An Opportunity to Date Boston’s Most Eligible Bachelor

And even finding a portrait of grace via the MBTA… Grace: As Learned from the Boston Metro

I’m telling you… I love this city.office view

Patriots Day is tied for first on my Favorite Day in Boston List… St. Paddy’s Day, 4th of July are tough to pass up (honorable mention to Opening Day at Fenway and the Santa Speedo Run).  Who would have thought, right??  Patriots Day???

Last Patriots Day I somehow managed to guilt three of my friends into leaving my apartment at 4:45a to watch the Battle of Lexington and Concord reenactment on the Lexington Green… WHERE THE ACTUAL BATTLE TOOK PLACE!!!

They love me, I swear...

They love me, I swear…

The Battle of Lexington and Concord was one of the first battles fought of the Revolutionary War and the Patriots were the guys that fought it.  Who were the Patriots?  Nobodys.  Just a few rough and tough guys that believed in their cause, that believed in freedom, that did not back down and that stood their ground for something that was right.

Anyone that has sat with me at a sporting event has seen me get teary eyed when the National Anthem is sung (because it happens EVERY TIME), and anyone that has watched 4th of July fireworks with me has witnessed the same teary eyed Sarah… America, the freedoms we have, and the people that defend our freedoms get me emotional.  Sue me.

The battle reenactment on Patriots Day was no exception.  I got a liiiiiiiiiittle emotional and have been intending to write this post ever since.

I was standing at the edge of the Lexington Green at 5:00a waiting for the reenactment.  I was trying to contain my excitement as I stood amidst the 200 year old houses surrounding the green that were there when the battle took place and it could just not be done.

AMERICA!!!

AMERICA!!!

Silence came over the crowd as we heard the British Troops marching through Lexington.  Men wearing scrappy colonial clothes started running out of houses armed with one shot rifles and stood in the middle of the green…. And we were standing right there watching!  The British soldiers marched perfectly in sync to the drummer’s beat and approached the green in their perfectly matched, prestine uniforms.  Our ‘troops’ gathered themselves together in the middle of the green, forming a single line the length of the green to express to the British soldiers that they were not welcome… this was going to be AMERICA.

As the British soldiers approached the scraggly Patriot soldiers some of the Patriots fled… after all, death was imminent.  The British soldiers were now just a few yards away and the remaining men stood their ground, trembling in fear.  Rather than shooting the ten or so Patriots blocking their path, the Bristh leader called his troops to stopped marching, stopping within five feet of the faces of the Patriots.  The leader of the British troops yelled at the Patriots to move.  The Patriots stood their ground.

The British soldier yelled two then three more times.  More men fled from the danger of the line into the surrounding woods.  No one knows who fired the first shot, but it appeared to come from one of the houses and thus the battle began, killing most of the Patriots.  The British soldiers continued marching and would later make it to the North Bridge in Concord where “the shot heard ‘round the world” was fired.

There were so many thoughts going through my head at this reenactment that brought me to tears… as I saw the Patriots standing in the line, trembling as the uniformed British soldiers approached, I thought of my friends and [some former] loved ones that are currently serving our country.  I thought of my father and grandfather who served as Marines.  I prayed a prayer of gratitude for the people that have believed so much in freedom that they have fought to protect it.  It led me to ask myself… what do I believe in so much that I would stand in the face of the enemy and be willing to sacrifice my life for? 

As a Christian, the obvious answer should be Christ.  Which led me to ask… am I really willing to sacrifice my life for Christ?  Would I die, or even face danger for that matter, for the cause of Christ?  Ok forget death and danger… would I even be willing to give up my earthly pleasures for the sake of Christ, because often times I don’t.  Do I truly understand the statement I so frequently hear, “Christ died for me?”  Wow. Christ died for me.  These soldiers died for me.  These soldiers died for the cause of freedom, so that we could speak and worship and play and educate and live in a world that is free.  Christ is the true source of freedom and the true source of peace and He endured the wrath of God and died to give it to us.  Saying ‘I was moved’ is quite the understatement… I was completely awestruck.

Yesterday I brought myself back to that moment when I was standing on the Lexington Green and I attempted to sort through my thoughts after the explosions.  I could do nothing but sit at my desk with my head in my hands and cry.  The Boston Marathon has, for the past four years, been my little glimpse of heaven (as I have so proudly expressed) and was shattered by Evil.  By hatred.  By selfishness.  I was brutally reminded that we live in the world and that Satan’s presence exists.  I had to stomach people around me saying things like “the media is making a bigger deal of this than it really is… just two people died.”  Just.  I’m beginning to hate that word.  Say that to the mother of the eight year old boy.  Say that to his second grade classmates and explain to them why there is an empty desk in their classroom.  Say that to the families impacted by the shooting in Newtown, Connecticut… after all, it was “just” one classroom.  Ugh.  I wanted to vomit.

The only thing we can do is remember the pain of this sorrow and move forward.  How do we move forward?  In my attempt to stand for what is right, I have to express that we move forward when we pursue Christ.  We pursue and fight for what is right.  We love those that don’t love us back.  We reset our hearts and minds to the things not of this world, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal.  We set our hearts on things above and eagerly await His kingdom come.  We open our eyes and accept that God is a God that loves us and by knowing His love we will better learn to love each other and by loving each other, we change the world.  We have faith that the darkness has been overcome.

To the people in my favorite city and the place my heart calls home – I love you and pray blessings and peace in this time of sorrow.  Let us be reminded of the love that has been shown to us by our Creator and let us spread His love to the people of this world.

Love that dirty water...

Love that dirty water…

Love that dirty water...

Boston you’re my home

The Terrible Plane Passenger

22 Feb elite-daily-Passengers-Airplane

I hope this doesn’t come off as rude or offensive, but it’s my blog and I can be honest here and say that there are just some people in this world that I would rather not sit next to on a plane.  Does this make me a bad person?  No.  Does this make me think anything less of those people?  Absolutely not! after all I’ve been that person (story to follow)…. but given the option I can guarantee that you’re not going to be the one to volunteer to take the middle seat inbetween the sweet precious tantrum baby and the [I'm sure, very] friendly man with the absolutely horrendous BO.  Amiright?!

That being said, I’ve taken the liberty of creating….

The World’s Best Worst Airplane Seating Chart:

plane seating chart

Isn’t this what it always feels like every time you fly!?

*Honorable mentions go to The Mean Parent, Over-Sized Dreads Guy, The Won’t Pull Down The Shade When The Sun Is Beaming In Your Face Kid, Everyone’s BFF (not to be confused with the Jokester or Oversharer), The Flight Attendant Brown Noser and last but not least… The Cougher.
**My personal favorite is The Panicked Flier… I once sat next to a woman that insisted that I walk up and down the aisle with her before take-off to physically touch/count every aisle seat on the way to the emergency exit in case it was too smokey to see when the plane went down.  She also wore nylon socks because the material is less flammable than cotton….?  Because when the plane goes up in flames heaven forbid my socks catch on fire.  I wish I could make this stuff up, but alas.. true story.

I got to go to back to Abilene for Sing Song and an unofficial friend reunion of sorts this past weekend… it was my first time going to Sing Song since since I was in it FIVE YEARS AGO.  I’ve learned there are two things in this world that make you feel old: 1 – 5 year reunions of any variety and 2 – your hands being sore from playing skee ball (yes, I experienced both this weekend).

It was seriously sooooo great to catch up with old friends, professors, go to Friday praise chapel on campus (tears!), hangout with the fam, hangout with Granny and friends at her ‘retirement village’ … all in all awesome.  So awesome in fact that I got a total of six hours sleep between Thursday night and Friday night, and 45 minutes of sleep Saturday… My flight was out of Dallas at 830a Sunday morning so my friend and I woke up at 5a to drive to DFW so I could catch my flight.  Have I mentioned that girl is a saint?

We struuuuuuuuggled to stay awake on our three hour drive but any attempt at remaining coherent was completely useless.  She stayed awake by driving 95 MPH (God bless Texas highways) with her hand out the sunroof and/or grabbing ice from her Whataburger cup to rub on her face.  I don’t know how I stayed awake because I pretty much just stared straight ahead and tried to keep up conversation as we watched the sunrise.

you try staying awake driving through three hours of THIS!

you try staying awake driving through three hours of THIS!

In the last hour of the ride delirium started kicking in and I somehow convinced myself that I had forgotten to purchase my return flight.  I spent the next 40 minutes on the phone with various airlines asking if they had a reservation for me, only to realize that I was flying on the same airline as I flew in on because I had in fact bought a round trip ticket… (shocking, I know).  I also discovered while waiting in the security line at the airport that I had lost my phone… only to realize a full 24 hours later that I had put in my wallet (where I always keep it); nevermind the fact that I opened my wallet to get my ID out, put my ID away, get my debit card out and put my debit card away in that 24-hour time frame. That’s four accounts of quite literally touching my phone and having no idea where I had left it.  I made it through security and went to my gate… well, the wrong gate.  After standing in line to board a flight to Philadelphia for 12 minutes I realized I was at gate 38 and my ticket said gate 28.  2’s and 3’s look pretty similar….  (just go with it).

After that crazy fiasco of a morning, I somehow managed to make it on the correct plane and sat down in the correct seat.  Let’s call this a win.  Little did the guy next to me know what was in store for him.

I made absolutely no attempt to be friendly and I think the frazzled hair, 24-hour old makeup and disheveled yoga pants + hoodie fashion statement was enough to keep me from finding my new best friend for the next three hours.  Needless to say, I was left alone and passed out as soon as I heard the flight attendant say “San Diego.”  Aaaaaaaaand we’re off!

I have no idea how far along into the flight we were or how long I had been asleep… but I was startled awake by the man sitting next to me.  Why you ask?  Oh only because

I WAS SNORING IN HIS FACE.

I like to think I looked something like this....

I like to think I looked something like this….

this is probably a little more realistic...

this is probably a little more realistic…

 

I kid you not, my head was turned all the way to my left facing upwards, mouth gaping open, breathing and SNORING less than four inches from this poor man’s face.  It had to have been even worse than what I’m envisioning because when I opened my eyes the two people sitting behind me were quite literally standing up out of their seats to try and catch a glimpse of the obnoxious, rude, horrendously disgusting person (aka: me) that was the talk of the entire plane.

I was so confused when he woke me up I just ended up flinging my hands out in front of me to catch my balance [in the extremely stationary plane seat], tried for .3 seconds to figure out where I was but quickly turned my head to the other side and fell right back asleep.  How rude of that guy to wake me up! (kidding)

When we the plane touched down I was jolted awake and wiped the drool from the sides of my mouth.  I casually looked at the man next to me and judging by the fact that he moved his mouth, chuckled and pumped his eyebrows up and down I can only assume he said something to me… I didn’t understand him or attempt an effort to respond.  I looked at him confused and propped my head back on the seat waiting to deboard.  Man, I bet HE felt awkward!  Idiot.  (kidding)

I got home, crawled in bed and fell asleep by 11a.  I woke up Monday morning at 6a to head to work and was quite the peach that day, let me tell ya ;)

I guess when most people fly, they walk of the plane with a story about some crazy person they had to sit next to.  Well in this case, I am that crazy person and I have to tell the story on myself :/ I do however take great comfort in the fact that I provided that man (and a plane) with a story to tell to their friends and families that picked them up from the airport.  You’re welcome, World.

Carly Rae, Kanye, Overload, Photobombs

8 Feb photobombchipmunk

I’m officially losing it… I have found the stupidest things absolutely hilarious and have not been able to keep it together lately!!  I need an outlet so I can hopefully move on and not scare away the new people I’ve been meeting out here.  So here we go… let’s get this out of my system once and for all.

At work…. one of the grouchy/rude high ups IM’d me… and well….callmemaybe….could NOT get it together on our call…. I sincerely hope he does not get me fired over this….

Another work story… when we talk about clients in the office we will sometimes shorten their names; one of the clients we shorten to ‘Kayne.’  Since I work remotely, I type/read/email this name all the time but never actually say it aloud.  Extremely unfortunate because when I went to lead a meeting about Kayne in front of the team, dyslexia got the best of me and I kept referring to our client as  ‘Kanye’ …. as in Kanye West, rather than ‘Cain’ …. real professional.  After about five minutes one of the guys my age sitting at the conference table FINALLY corrected me…. fortunately for me, the old man partners in the meeting had no idea how funny this was, or who Kanye is for that matter and they were able to move forward, no problem.  I [again] could not get it together and asked one of the long-winded partners a question so I could buy myself some time and literally hold my mouth shut to recover.http://www.entertainmentwallpaper.com

I was walking to dinner with a guy that isn’t quite familiar with all my quirks yet and somehow it came up that one of my favorite things in the entire world is when dogs go turbo… you know… when they run laps repeatedly at lightening speed and nine times out of ten they use the sofa and/or your leg to propel themselves ….??  Someone help me out here.  As I started to explain “turbo” to him I could NOT stop laughing.  For two city blocks.  I was laughing so hard at the thought of it I actually started crying.  He uncomfortably laughed along and tried to throw me a bone (if you will) and make it less awkward by including himself in my internal dialogue and asking leading questions “Are you picturing it right now??”  gigglegigglegiggleuncontrolablegiggleYES!giggle.  “What kind of dog are you picturing?”  It was sweet and all… but I could feel the judgement and wanted nothing more than to just GET IT TOGETHER and move on!

Here’s a video I found on YouTube for your reference.  I will [maybe] pay you $2 if you can make it through without laughing (military personnel excluded):

Speaking of… how is it that I’m JUUUUUUUUUST now finding out about the Puppy Bowl?!!?!  I had absolutely NO IDEA this much cute could fit in a single YouTube video:

I found this gem on the MSN homepage yesterday… again… tears of laughter… just me??

just an all around awesome pic... in Cairo of course

just an all around awesome pic… in Cairo of course

whyyyyyyyyy

whyyyyyyyyy

just plain impressive

just plain impressive

hoooooow?!

hoooooow?!

hahahaha how can you not laugh at this?! GONZO!!!

hahahaha how can you not laugh at this?! GONZO!!!

typical

typical

no homo

nbd.

camel head

camel head

hay garl - can I get a ride?

hay garl – can I get a ride?

how in the world is this guy driving?

how in the world is this guy driving?

And saving the absolute best for last… ANIMAL PHOTOBOMBS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Cannot get enough.  Yup.  Last night I definitely Googled this and laughed uncontrollably.photobombseal photobombdog photobombdolphin photobombfish2 photobombfish photobombgiraffe photobombdog3 photobombfish3 photobombemu photobombchipmunk photobombllama

I’ll stop…. posting these to my blog.  No promise on the Google searches though

Ok I feel better.  Back to adult life.

When Blind Women Need Oreos

7 Jan oreos

My last post about the unibrow sugar fart got me thinking about other roommates that have been exposed to Daily Life With Sarah which then reminded me of the time I thought I was going to lose one of the best roommates this world has ever known.

Meet MalPal and J-Bootch:123kent

The three of us spent a year as roommates while I was living in Boston.  MalPal and I had already lived together for more than two years so she was used to the crazy that is Daily Life With Sarah.  J-Bootch on the other hand had no idea what he was getting himself into when he responded to an ad for an apartment on Craigslist with “Turbo Talk” and “Sporty Spice”  the summer of 2011.  Poor guy.

A few days after J-Bootch moved in, I subjected him to CO2 poisoning by nearly burning the house down as I attempted to microwave fishsticks for eight minutes. Fishsticks – 1, Sarah – 0.

yup, even the plate exploded.

yup, even the plate exploded.

A few days after that (less than a week after moving in), I had wrapped up dinner and drinks and hopped on the T to head home.  When I got off the T, something struck my foot.  My first thought was that some crazy kids were throwing things at me; my natural response was to turn around aggressively and show them my you-better-watch-out-or-I’ll-tell-your-mother face (it’s a good one).  Plan ruined when I turned around and there was a [not so] sweet blind woman in a motorized wheelchair who couldn’t even see how intimidating my face was.  She had accidentally hit me with her blind walking stick.  Because everyone has been hit by a blind woman in a motorized wheelchair, right?

I’m not sure how I feel about blind people driving in general, but political views aside I felt terrible for the thoughts that had been in my head .3 seconds after being struck on the foot.  I apologized to her and kindly and let her pass.

Don't you go dying on me!

Don’t you go dying on me!

As she got a few yards further, she did the same thing to a man that had been walking ahead of me…. struck his foot with her walking stick.  This man had the same natural reaction but instead, as he turned around he said “What the @$8%?!” This guy was ready to start a fight.  The woman said [in a none too friendly], bit of sarcastic tone “Excuse me.” As she forged ahead as continued yelling after her “You better watch where your $#@&*$%’ing  #*&$ is #&^$’ing going!!!”

Ok.  I get it.  No one wants to be struck on the foot, but seriously???  Can we just chill out??  Her sarcastic response was priceless:  I’M BLIND. 5304039-woman-in-sunglasses-portrait-strong-side-light

At this point she had already driven out ear shot to use a normal tone so he continued to make his thoughts known to her by YELLING a string of more obscenities.  Wooooooow.

I was furious.  I was ready to act.  I was coming up with every response in the book to stand up for this blind woman…. but then I realized that responding to his obscenities with a few of my own was no way to stand up for her.  Then I thought that responding at all was not wise considering my stature compared to this over-sized, enraged, behemoth of a man (mild exaggeration).

Ugh.  I had to do something.

He was walking at a slower than I was, so I passed him and ended up getting about a block ahead of him by the time I was home…. That’s when I had a GENIUS idea.idea

I ran up the stairs to my second floor apartment as fast as I could and burst thru the door.  J-Bootch had been enjoying a low key evening until I  ran up to him panting “DON’T ASK QUESTIONS!  WE NEED SOMETHING TO THROW!!! QUICK!!! SOMETHING NOW!!!!”

He started running through the apartment looking for things to throw.  He held up an apple… (love him) “No no no no… We’ll get in trouble for that.  OREOS!!!!! GET THE OREOS!!!!!!”

We ran and grabbed the Oreos from the pantry.oreos

At this point I had still not had a second to explain what we were doing, but I shooshed my hand over my mouth and signaled to J-Bootch that we needed to go on our balcony.  He followed close behind with Oreos in hand.

The timing could not have been more perfect… the jerk behemoth man that had cursed out the motorized blind woman had just walked passed our house and was within Oreo shot!  I whispered to J-Bootch… “We have to throw Oreos at that guy until we hit him!”  Bootch took aim and started throwing.  He nailed him in the back of the leg!!!!!!! YYYYYYYEEEESSSS!!!!! (love him x1,000,000).  We snuck back inside before the guy knew what (or who) had hit him.

I then took time to explain the situation and I’m not sure if J-Bootch agreed Oreos was the correct method of punishment…. but he could not have been a better sport.  Kind of like the time he woke up, I was no where to be found and…. well…

story for another day

story for another day

I’d like to think if I didn’t move to San Diego that J-Bootch and I would still be roommates…. so for now let’s just go ahead and say that’s the reason why we don’t still live together ;)

In the meantime, please let me know if you’d like me to join the neighborhood watch force in your neighborhood.  Oreos will be in abundance.

Serious inquires only, please.neighborhood watch

Unibrow. Sugar. Fart.

3 Jan the final product... cute, right?!?!

One of my biggest fears in life is having my old, close, dear friends meet the new awesome people in my life… the reason being, I have a number of stories (read: really embarrassing moments) that I have conveniently chosen to forget, that my friends remember for a lifetime and bring up when I’m trying to disguise myself as someone that is socially normal.  This is one of those stories, and these are the girls that have it:

melalashley

The four of us lived together our junior year of college in a house we called The Mullet.. business in front, party in back.  I want to go ahead and tell one of these stories on myself before you have the opportunity to meet them.

The Mullet

The Mullet

It was the fall semester of our junior year and our ‘sorority’ (for lack of a better word) social was coming up; the theme was “All Things Yellow”  and I decided that Bert and Ernie was a cute costume idea… I’d be Bert (because he’s yellow) and my date would be Ernie.  The real reason I wanted to be Bert was because he has a siiiiiiiick unibrow and I’ve always wanted one.  Perfect opportunity to sport a uni!! (Who am I?)

the final product... cute, right?!?!

the final product… cute, right?!?!

A few nights before the social I had a random night off (rarely happens in college) and all my roommates were out of the house (also rarely happens in college).  My thought process went something like this:  I’m bored.  I don’t want to study.  Social is in two days.  Maybe I should get a costume together.  Do I still have that turtleneck?  Hey!  Unibrow!  I need to practice my unibrow!

……………………………………?

Because everyone knows you can’t just wing a unibrow… it’s got to be perfect (?????)

………………………………………………………….?

I pulled out some eyeliner and mascara and had at it.  The more time that passed, the more focused I became with perfection.  The less I realized what exactly I was doing.  The bigger the rectangular colored in black brick was getting on my forehead.  Aleisha came home and I popped out of my room to see what she was up to.

Before she could so much as get a word out, she fell on the ground pointing and laughing.  I didn’t realize that she hadn’t been with me for the completely logical thought process that resulted in me putting a unibrow on my face.  I chuckled along nervously but she Could. Not. Stop. Laughing. It was in that moment that I realized that investing 30+ minutes to practice drawing a unibrow on your face is weird.

We started joking around and decided we couldn’t let a good unibrow go to waste… we needed to let this thing out in public!  Aleisha mentioned I should go ask the neighbors for a cup of sugar because we ran out when we were making our hypothetical sugar cookies.  Perfect!  The only problem was, most of our neighbors were families and it was pretty late so we didn’t want to disturb them.  Oh except the upper classmen/hot guy fraternity guys that lived across the street.  Target acquired!! (wtf, self???)

We marched ourselves over there giggling at the thought of their reaction to their new unibrow neighbor.  HotGuy1 answered the door and quite literally jumped back at the sight of my face.  It was priceless… I kept a straight face and managed to talk this poor guy’s ear off all while he tried to avoid eye[brow] contact.  He invited me into the house and walked me to the kitchen.  Leish waited for me outside… after all, the joke was pretty much over and this shouldn’t take too long… right?

He pointed in the general direction of the cabinet where they kept their sugar and without stopping kept up his pace, headed out of the kitchen and to the back of the house without so much as saying bye.  I rummaged in the cupboard when HotGuy2 came to the kitchen.  I turned around to say hi and he had the same gut-wrench-jump-back reaction.  How am I just so hilarious?!

I kept him in conversation as long as I could while his eyes darted around the room.  I maintained a straight face the entire time and even added lots of expression to my words just for the sake of using my eyebrows more in conversation.  I couldn’t take it anymore.. this poor guy… I finally gave him an out and decided it was time to leave.  When the unexpected happened.

I farted.

LOUDLY.

The loudest fart I have ever farted in my liiiiiiiiiiiiife.

It was not the kind of fart that you can blame on a chair scootching across the floor.  Or whose sound can be masked by the slam of a car door or a loud cough.  This was a bellowing, sound altering, mind blowing fart.  It’s one thing to intentionally embarrass yourself with a unibrow.  It is quite another to be taken back by an unexpected fart-boom.  What may have made it even worse was the fact that my response was to just turn and run.  As fast as I could.

As I bombed through the dining room, the kitchen, out the door and past Leish who had been waiting patiently in the driveway, I used everything I had learned from my 7th grade hurdle coach…  head up, knees up, toes up, hands flexed… bring it, [someone that runs really fast]!!  I had an undeniable look of muderous determination to get myself into The Mullet.

Leish could do nothing but run behind me asking “What happened?!?!  hahahahaha Wait why are we running?!?!  What happened?!?!?! haaaahahahaha Sarah???  Why are we running?!?!”  There was nothing that could be said or done to break the concentration I had harnessed to get into that house.  We ran inside, slammed and locked the door behind us and I told her the whole story.

To this day, it is one of the more memorable Mullet stories (and trust me… there are A LOT).  So before they have the chance to throw me under the bus… that is what happened the night of the unibrow sugar fart.

And now some cute pictures of the four of us so we can reminisce about the ol’ college days <3

I Am A Security Threat At The San Diego International Airport

3 Dec pumpkinbread

The notifications I received after my two hour flight on my Facebook status had me sincerely worried that I had accidentally announced a pregnancy, or changed relationship status, or posted pictures from my engagement photoshoot… but alas – it was the butter knife.  And you guys don’t even know the whole story!  Allow me to elaborate…

fbstatus

The story must begin with the loaf of pumpkin bread I made last week.  Every Tuesday I take an early train to LA and spend the day in back to back to back meetings.  I was in a rush and didn’t have time to eat breakfast… so rather than sit and eat I loaded up the last slice of my pumpkin bread into a tupperware container.  It comes as no surprise that pumpkin bread is infinitely better with cream cheese (Norte knows what I’m talking about!), so even though I felt like a bit of a goob for what I was about to do… I slabbed some cream cheese onto one side of the tupperware (no time to spread), grabbed a knife from the drawer and was out the door.

Upon taking my seat on the train, I unfolded the tray table, pulled out my laptop, and finally had a chance to munch on my pumpkin-bread-with-cream-cheese breakfast.  Ok yes, it definitely felt weird being the girl on the train unraveling a feast in her seat… but meh, I’ve definitely imposed worse on myself.

Fast forward to Thursday morning (two days later)… I was up at 4a, in a taxi at 5a, and at the airport at 5:15a to go to our San Francisco office for a couple days of meetings.  I always get nervous traveling for work so I typically do a thorough pack job the night before and triple check that I have everything I need before I walk out the door in the morning.

As I approached airport security (insert obligatory TSA joke here), I went through my standard remove coat, shoes, laptop from bag system; I have it down to a science… I hate holding up lines!  I passed through the metal scanner without any issues and stood at the end of the baggage conveyor belt waiting for my bags.

Waiting.  Waiting.  Waiting.

My fellow commuters in the line that was forming behind me were getting frustrated expressed through  heavy sighs, checking of watches, etc. Newbs standing behind the monitor reviewing the skeletor of all the bags was looking around for someone to help her identify an item in one of the bags.  There was no one to be found.  Great.

The more time that passed the more uncomfortable the line situation got.  People started standing on their tiptoes to see what who the holdup was so they knew where to direct their anger.  I stared at the girl directly behind me hoping to convince her, myself, and all the other passengers with my eyes that she was in fact was holding up the line, but that didn’t seem to work.

Newbs finally found Employee2, a more experienced set of eyes, and the two of them stared at the screen for a minute.  As if that wasn’t enough, Employee2 could not identify the object and called Employee3 over.  More stares.  Panic was setting in… not for me, but for the people looking at this bag.  Could this be a bomb?!  Are we under attack??  Is there a terrorist up in hurrrrr??  The reaction of the Newbs, Employee2 and Employee3 was not so comforting to myself or any of the nearby passengers.

Employee3 finally reached into the machine to grab the bag causing the slight delay panic in the security line.  It was my bag.

She approached me cautiously and said, “Excuse me ma’am, is this your bag?”  I tried to hide my nervousness with the confidence of a well versed, mature, upstanding commuter tone by saying “Yes.  Is there a problem?” (inside my guilty self hunkered down died a little).

This woman then gave me very specific instructions… “Please walk over to the table and we are going to need to check your bag…. No, no ma’am. please stand on this side so I can be standing directly to the machine…. Ma’am will you please set your bags down and stand back?”  My gosh… I was trying so hard to follow her instructions but everything I did was wrong.  People were staring.

The next words out of her mouth as she was swiping my bag for remnants of  bomb making materials were “Do you have any utensils in your bag?”  I’m sorry, what??  “Utensils, Ma’am.”

I immediately denied, because that’s what any first grader 26 year old would do.  Until I had the pumpkin bread flashback.  I sincerely wish I was able to provide some kind of filter, but I loudly proclaimed “OOOMMMGGG!!!! YES!!! I DO!!! It’s a butterknife from spreading cream cheese on Tuesday!!! hahahaha”  People tell me I give too much information… I have no idea why.

I wanted to dig out the butterknife causing this horrendous holdup but I knew better than to challenge Employee3’s authority by reaching into my bag, unauthorized, at the security checkpoint table.  The results were in and my bag was free of any bomb making materials, so I told her she could just dive in my bag and get the butterknife.  She was not so impressed and my lack of professionalism with regards to the butterknife scare.

She dug and dug and I even had to instruct her “No, not there… probably further down… yeah, under my laptop… maybe even under that filing index.  Yeah just go all the way towards the bottom…”  Then she pulled it out in all its glory… my butterknife.

Once she removed the metal weapon butterknife from my bag I figured they were just going to throw it out and I could finally get out of there.  You’d think… however that’s when Employee3 decided to rally her TSA employee of the year nominations by tracking down a supervisor that would allow me to take a butterknife (keyword, knife) on the plane.  Please no.  Please just stop.

I tried to stop her three separate times as she bolted back and forth between supervisors… she even rubbed the edge of the butterknife over her head with her gloved hand as she yelled across the security area prove it was not in fact a a sharp object.  She was acting as if I was throwing a tantrum about not being able to take my butterknife on the plane.  Look, lady… I already ate my pumpkin bread.  Please let me continue my 5a commute in peace.

And THAT my friends is the story of the time I tried to takeover the world carry a butterknife through airport security at the San Diego International Airport.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,190 other followers