Archive | Aging RSS feed for this section

When Blind Women Need Oreos

7 Jan

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

Advertisements

Unibrow. Sugar. Fart.

3 Jan

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 ❤

No PreDate Text Should Include the Word ‘Crockpot’

8 Aug

The biggest mistake I’ve ever made is not making this blog anonymous.

That said, I wish I had more freedom to post about dating aspect of my life because it is hiiiiiiiiiighly entertaining and I’m pretty sure the readership would allow me to quit my day job and blog forever.   Plus you readers seem to enjoy it!  Out of respect for all parties involved, I’m a 9-5er (ahem 8-6er) and sit in a cube staring at Excel sheets all day.  

I would however like to highlight some of my more memorable/hilarious/horrendous/wtf dating moments and contribute to the ‘Sh*t [insert group of people here] Say‘ movement on YouTube.  Here’s to hoping that those guys either a) don’t read my blog, and/or b) don’t realize I’m talking about them!  But really… it’s just too ridiculous not to share.

Here we go:

“I’ll let you get this one…” said to me by a guy that had [at one point] piqued my interest as he passive aggressively had me buy tickets to a show that he told me he already purchased tickets for.  I have no problem pitching in and will always (always, always) offer but he didn’t even let me get that far!  Needless to say, that was the only “one.”  Next.

“If you’re looking to ease back into dating… I’m a really easy guy to date” said to me a couple weeks after my breakup of the century.  I wonder how long he sat around thinking of that line, or how many times he’s used it before.  Nevermind, I don’t want to know.

“Yeah – I’ll miss you too.  But I’m kind of more one of those ‘out of sight, out of mind’ people.  So I mean…  I’ll be really excited when you come visit, but other than that it’ll probably not be a huge deal.”  We never went out, but really boys??  I can take a hint but you could have at least lied a little!

“I want to tell you that I like you, but I don’t want to be another Sarah Iverson Statistic”  —  Can someone tell me what that means exactly??

I was out with a group of people very recently and here is a conversation with a guy I had met earlier that night:

Him: Hey!  So I know your ex.  (Of course you do.  Mind you I had never met this guy, I’m in a new city, far away from anyone that would have even known I had an ex.. much less who he was.)

Me: Oh really?  That’s great ((fake smile))

Him: Yeah… he’s a really great guy

Me:  Yup – he is

Him: I’m really sorry about everything that happened. (It’s been over a year)  He really is such a good guy.

—————————- silence —————————————

Him: So would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?

Me: No thank you.

“I know this is weird, but it feels kind of good to see you hurting — I feel like you are kind of getting a glimpse of what I’ve been going through” — says the guy that apparently had a crush on me for a long time and it was never reciprocated.  This might be why it didn’t work out between us…

“Sweeeeet Caroline!!!!!  I had to do a Google search to see who sang that!” — text from a guy before we went to a Sox game.  He is obviously not the one for me.  Extremely unfortunate, really.

There was a guy that chased me around for a couple months and we eventually went on a date.  Tables turned.. I became interested and he wasn’t.  Not going to lie, I was pretty bummed UNTIL a couple months later a group of us were answering the question “What are the 5 things you are most thankful for?”  #3 for him: “I’m really thankful for my genes.  ((silence)) You know, like genetics…” – Extremely great guy but he has not crossed my mind since.

“OH!  I’ve never seen Dumb and Dumber!” — One of the very few guys I’ve ever asked out, and he is quite possibly the most awesome guy EVER … but youch… that one cut deep.

“So I have a great idea for our first date!  And I hope this isn’t weird, but you’d meet my parents” ……………….. I was busy that evening :/ Still a very very good friend of mine 🙂

Let’s be real though… dating stories go both ways.   Some of the more epic failures on my part:

“Hey it’s pretty cold out here, I’ll be in Bed Bath and Beyond looking at Crockpots”  The guy was running late and THAT was my text to him.  Let the records show that no predate text should include the word ‘Crockpot’ … or Bed Bath and Beyond for that matter.  Lesson learned.

–I was on a first date with an awesome guy and started talking about being left on the side of the road on the day I thought I was being proposed to.  Then I got teary eyed.  Nothing says ‘let’s do this again sometime!’ better than bringing up your ex.  Probably shouldn’t have been going out on dates at that point…. Awwwwwwwwwwwwkward!

–I tried to use a computer issue I had to flirt via email with the hottest guy I’ve ever known in real life.  I ended my email with ‘It’ll be a Dalmatian Plantation!’ … Because what guy doesn’t love a damsel in distress that can quote 101 Dalmatians?!  (For the record, it was totally relevant and funny because it rhymed with the computer error message that kept popping up on my screen)

“I just have a lot of baggage right now that you shouldn’t have to deal with… I’d rather you be my copilot than my skycap.”   Yup.  That was my college self.  Totally killed the mood because I couldn’t stop laughing after that, but also proud of how quickly I was able to think on my feet!!  He married the next girl he dated and we are both better off 🙂

Now that I’m living in a new city I’m hoping I can (lovingly) publicize more of these incredibly awkward moments while still maintaining interest from at least SOME guys!  It’s a fine line, really.  In the meantime, my brother did some pretty funny posts about his worst dates… you should check them out!

The Single Life: Worst Date Countdown #3

The Single Life: Worst Date Countdown #2

The Single Life: Worst Date Countdown #1

Anyone care to share horrible dating stories?  You can’t say it’s because you don’t want them to see it… I promise they don’t read my blog.  LET’S HEAR SOME!

I’m the Fat Bridesmaid

17 Jul

I’ve been a bridesmaid a few times in my day and I could not be more excited to share in the celebration of the huge milestone.  I am always so so so so sooooo honored to be included, especially since that means I get a free pass on their family vacations for life!!!!! (Still waiting on those family vacay invites, LADIES).  But I’ll be totally honest with you and say that I’m still not really sure why I’m asked to be in the wedding party at all – you’d think that my closest girlfriends of all people would know better than anyone that my unfortunate luck somehow always manages to make completely normal, happy life situations entirely chaotic…. weddings being no exception.

Meet Ashole:

Such a beautiful bride!  Remember the story about driving to Nashville for the weekend?  Yeah that’s her… one of my closest and best friends.  The pictures have surfaced on Facebook within the past week or so which leads me to tell you of the time I [almost] ruined her wedding.

Brynn & Sarah

Ok, ok – so “ruined” is a bit of an exaggeration.  Other than using the most explicit words some of those people have ever heard to curse out a mound of fire ants that were biting my feet, pronouncing Ashley’s new last name wrong and so it sounded like a barn animal (all weekend), the pedicurist (?) having to use the special electric tools to saw off my toenub (long story), the other bridesmaids having to go on “Sarah Duty” to keep

Brynn & Sarah

me from knocking over everything within my 5’5″ armspan, starting fake fights with Brynn, Brynn and I referring to Ashley as “bridezilla” in front of all her friends that have never met us, being attacked by bullfrog-locusts, and making a speech at the rehearsal dinner in front of about 75 people where I talked about Ashley’s pit stains, killer AOOOOGAH noise and my hesitations with their relationship… I’d say things were going pretty well!

Ashley is by far the most cool/calm/collected bride I have ever encountered.  From flowers, to guest lists, to decorations, to day of activities, to bridesmaid dresses – there was absolutely nothing that could take away the peace she had in the days’ events.  Leave it to me to test that cool/calm/collected/no stress demeanor.

Bridesmaid dresses are a great example of how laid back she is – we could get any dress we wanted, from any store, in a variety of colors that she had put together in her color palette…so cool, right?!  I did everything I in my power to make sure I was prepared for the big day, and by that I mean – I brought four dresses with me that I thought would coordinate well with the palette.  Some would call that overkill, I call it knowing myself and my tendencies.  Ash was so sweet and said any of them would work, but she loved the one that was two-tone because it tied all the other dresses together and completed the palette.  Done and done.  Highfive, self! Best bridesmaid EVER!

Ash was SO laid back that she didn’t want to decide the standing order of bridesmaids in the ceremony until she saw all the dresses next to each other since they were all different.  This decision happened about 20 minutes before pictures started; we hung all the bridesmaid dresses up next to each other and Ash decided on this:

How cute is Ashole’s style btw??  I love how she pulled this all together 🙂  Oh and you see the two-tone dress second from the right?  That is was mine.

I went ahead and put my dress on so I’d be ready to go in a moment’s notice.  We were all goofing around, listening to Brynn rap, hair was done, make-up perfected… all was right in the world.  A few minutes later as everyone else started getting their dresses on and I noticed that I had a piece of hair that was a bit out of place – I grabbed a bottle of hairspray and one of the 47 curling irons that was laying out to recurl the fallen hair chunk.  As I reached up to curl I heard a

RIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiIIIIiiiiIIIiiIIIiiP.

I froze.  I looked down to see the zipper on my side that had been holding my dress together had bust open.

Like a seven year old who just spilled grape juice on their parents’ new sofa, I tried to hide the situation and fix it myself before anyone noticed.  That’s what any normal 25 year olds would do, right?  This zipper thing was no big deal, right?  This used to happen to my sleeping bags ALL the time… the only difference was that this dress had it out for me.  It took about 27 seconds for my slow, patient, calm attempt at fixing said zipper to progress into violent shaking and an all out brawl: Sarah vs. bridesmaid dress.  Panic set in.  Somehow getting a size 00 when I usually wear a 0 made me 1. feel like a (literally and figuratively) huge idiot and 2. rethink my workout routine.

It became harder and harder to breathe… whether a result of my new found claustrophobia or a dress that was too tight, we may never know.  I was doing everything I could to hold back my tears against the newly formed, Sarah-caused wedding disaster.

I leaned over to Brenna as casually as possible and said “Hey – could you help me out with this?”  while pointing at my ribcage imposed muffin top which was bulging above and below the zipper, mind you.  Rather than the empathy panic which I would have received from anyone else – Brynn started laughing hysterically sending me into more of a panic and also drawing the eyes of everyone in the room.  Secret was out.  Grape juice on the new sofa exposed.  DANGIT.

It was getting harder and harder to fight the tears… leave it to me and my fat ass ribcage to ruin my best friend’s wedding day.  Then it happened… the first tear fell.  All hands flew on deck.  More tears.  My appendages were being thrown in every direction to get a better angle of the zipper and alas… no movement.  Hands were coming through the top of the dress stripping me down to my strapless bra (which I was fighting to keep on amongst the commotion), and more hands up through the bottom of my dress exposing my entire butt along with and extremely inappropriate panties I chose to wear that day.  More tears.

Apparently this was a task for the groom’s 83 year old grandmother.  A couple of the girls went and found her and brought her back to the bridal suite.  Great.  “Please don’t judge my scandalous panties” was all I could think as I stood, arm pinned above my head, booty out, fully exposed as this precious grandmother approached me.  In the most kind and loving voice said “It’s ok sweetie, I’ve worked with zippers for over 30 years.”  My tears stopped – She will save me!  She glanced down and was polite enough not to speak of the distaste she had in my choice of under garments… but something tells me she did not approve because forget the cautious, tedious, warm, loving hands I was expecting from this sweet woman… she tried for .2 seconds, grabbed scissors and CUT ME OUT OF MY DRESS.  That’s not embarrassing.

Thankfully I put on the runner up dress and all was right in the world.  And THIS is why I come prepared… never know when you’re going to have to be cut out of your dress!!  From the pictures, you would have never even known 😉

All in all, a BEAUTIFUL wedding, a gorgeous bride, a loving husband, two of the greatest families I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting… and a crazy awesome huge shoutout to Rosalyn and Erica for all their hard work!!!  LOVE YOU ALL!!!!

::disclaimer:: No weight insecurity interventions, please.  I am completely fine and confident with my body… if I were to sincerely be complaining about busting out of a size 00 I would ask that you would just go ahead and slap me.  Chalk it up as another one of those goofy Sarah stories!
 

Photography by: www.andrewryanshepherd.com

Venue: www.threepointsranch.com

::IT’S OFFICIAL::

24 Feb

¡I’M MOVING TO SAN DIEGO!

We all know nothing is official until it’s “Facebook Official” (learned that from my high schoolers)… so consider this me ‘making it official’ 🙂

For those of you that want the short version: I’ve been in Boston for nearly four years and I’m looking for a change of pace.  I’ll be leaving July 5th (made sure I’d be here for the 4th!!) and transferring to my firm’s office in San Diego.  YAY LIFE!  You can stop reading now 🙂

For those of you that want the extended version:

Life in Malibu with my scooter buddies 🙂

Post college (’08) I had a summer position at a church near Malibu and was having the time of my life. I loved the kids I worked with, loved the families, loved the lifestyle… it was perfect. A little too perfect.  I’m a person that is afraid of getting too comfortable with life, I very rarely take the easy way out (intentionally and unintentionally), I pride myself in working hard and taking ownership of what I do, but more than anything I firmly believe that God calls us to a life of adventure in His name.  Can I get an amen?!  I’ll blog on this topic later… lots to say.

Anyways – the adventure for me was buying a one way ticket to Boston to figure out life, just me and my Maker.  I came armed to battle with an air mattress, two duffel bags, two undergraduate degrees from a small private school in Abilene, Texas that no one has ever heard of (sorry ACU, but it’s true), and a huge goofy grin on my face.  The country happened to be in the middle of the biggest financial crisis since the Great Depression…  oh and my degrees were in finance and accounting… nbd.  There’s no getting around it – the odds were against me.

Four years later… it’s safe to say I am extremely blessed.  For anyone that has met me for > 5 minutes (or reads my blog), it quite literally is a miracle that I’m alive.

As far as the reasoning behind the move… earlier last summer I was led to believe that I’d be moving to start a new life in Pearl Harbor, HI for some reason….  hmmmm… weird.  That said, my heart was already in preparation to say goodbyes and move forward onto the next chapter.  Things quite obviously changed and I felt trapped.   

Everyone I talked to advised not to make any big life decisions in the state of mind I was in…. even haircuts!  But more importantly my closest friends told me to stay put and don’t do the one-way ticket thing again.  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking up tickets to London, San Diego, Rwanda, Dallas, Beijing, Portland, Bangalore etc etc etc.  I guess staying put was a good call – thanks friends 🙂 

The more I had time to process, the more I realized that San Diego was still on my mind for a number of reasons:

1. I grew up there 

2. My best friend, Keri, and her family are still there (aka – my second family)

 3. My brother lives there

5. I have yet to meet Noah Hales and he’s going to be TWO this summer!!! (Brady and Laura – this is your warning: I will be visiting!)

6. I literally spend all my extra cash and vacation time being in weddings… I absolutely love it, but dream of the day I can take an actual vacation.

7. I’d be closer to all the friends I call family… well the same coast at least

8. California called, they want me back.

Genuis Idea: Fake [student] ID

12 Jan Now THAT is a face that is going to get some discounts!

Notable “Sarah” moments from the week include:

  • The hem of my pants getting caught on a door and the string reaching lengths of 5+ feet before I noticed it trailing behind me as I walked down the hall at work.  Someone literally hopped over it before anyone told me.
  • Talking with a coworker while drinking water from a straw and spewing on said coworker (this was immediately after the pants incident, mind you). 

    RIP favorite umbrella - I will miss sporting you with my plaid jacket

  • Closing my umbrella and all the metal innards (?) snappingin half.  Is that normal?? This of course gave the guy standing next to me a great conversation starter as I pouted and put my favorite umbrella in the trashcan 😦
  • Accidentally touching an intern’s butt in a crowded elevator while trying to put my hand in my coat pocket – he was mortified, poor thing… I just stared straight ahead and avoided eye contact.  Needless to say, I have not been asked to be a recruiter for the firm.  Weird.
  • An old man in the sandwich line at Viga struck up a conversation with me insisting that they put the “lunch specials” sign out there juuuuust for me.  He continued this conversation the entire time I was in line… my teeth dried out from the extensive smile/nod motion I had to do. 

And it’s only Thursday. 

Let’s talk about my age, shall we?  I’m 25.  If you ask anyone on the street how old I look, you will average 17-20… .don’t worry, we have field research that supports this statistic.   Not only is a bit of a blow to the ego, but looking like you’re under 21 becomes extremely inconvenient/embarrassing for a number of reasons. 

I remember I was two weeks away from graduating from my university, walking through the campus center and an enormous group of high schoolers on a tour walked by.  One of the admissions counselors came up to me after the group went into the cafeteria, put her hand on my lower back and said “The group is going to lunch, why don’t you go ahead and make your way over there.”  Embarrassing.

After graduating from college, people would find out I had just graduated and say “Oh that’s so great!  Where are you going to school?”  No no… graduated FROM college.  Embarrassing.

I get carded at Rated R movies.  Every time.  Literally.  Embarrassing.

When I was 23 I decided to take an extended weekend trip down to Orlando for a much needed vacation after tax season.  I was 23 and was assigned to the exit row of the plane.  The guy at the gate, who was roughly my age, in ‘kindergarten speak’ asked how old I was.  NATURALLY I thought he was so enamored by my beauty that he was hitting on me… nope… he was complying with FDA regulations ensuring that all persons seated in the exit row were older than age 15.  I went to the airport bar and ordered a beer just for the sake of maintaining my sanity.

Boston is super strict about fake id’s and out of state id’s are a huge target.  [Thank YOU Texas for having next to no holograms on your ID’s]  I have had to pull out multiple forms of identification (INCLUDING MY PASSPORT) just to get into restaurants after 8p.  Embarrassing.

There are however benefits to looking young – STUDENT DISCOUNTS!  I get them allllllllll the time, whether offered or requested and there are few things that bring me more joy than this… I’m cheap, remember??  So for this reason, I carry around my ACU student ID with my picture from 7 years ago to get discounts. 

Did you know you can get the matinée price at a movie theater with a student id??  10% off at Banana Republic?? (not the outlet though)  Discounted gym memberships?? Lunch specials at pretty much every place in the city??  Museums??? Shows??  Yeah seriously, it’s a great deal.

In high school the big thing is having a fake ID to buy booze, and kids will spend hundreds of dollars to get a decent one… real cool (sarcasm).  How much do you think working professionals would pay to get a fake college id for these deals!?  I think there’s a huge market here!!!  I wouldn’t even have to mess with holograms!!  And if you look old… well, then you can just be a grad student 🙂 I’m going to put together a business plan and have you guys review it for me.

With that, I leave you with the little gem that cost (and continues to cost) me thousands and thousands of dollars, but for the past seven years has saved me hundreds 🙂 my student id:

Now THAT is a face that is going to get some discounts!

I pooped by Ed’s office.

26 Sep

Friday was the kind of day that only I could have.

Occasionally our office will have a “jeans day” on Fridays the admin will send a big email blast to announce it… other than that, business casual (ie: no jeans) and just a little on the stuffy side – don’t get me wrong… I don’t mind being professional, but I LIVE for jeans days… seriously who doesn’t love jeans days?!?! We got an email on Wednesday about a breast cancer research fund our firm is supporting and we are having a “jeans day” in honor of it.  I woke up Friday, put on a pair of jeans, went to work and soon realized I was a week early because well… I was the only one in jeans.  Oh breast cancer awareness is next week?  Don’t worry about it.  Oh hi big important partner that I work with and see once every 6 months… jeans??  it’s a thing the finance team is doing today-how’s the fam???

I wish that was the worst of it… but alas, it was only 8a.  Awkward continued as I sent an instant message to a senior manager with an extremely unfortunate typo.  Rather than try and describe it, I’ll just show you:

Sarah /… i just pooped by ed’s office  
◄he said “be patient” 11:22:55 AM
◄*POPPED 11:23:04 AM
Sam … haha 11:23:10 AM
◄I liked the first one better 11:23:16 AM

I told him that I pooped by Ed’s office.  Pooped.  Sam happens to be hilarious and didn’t let it go… he sent it around the office and I was receiving IM’s from people saying things like:

Drew… trying to steam him out, interesting tactic 11:28:29 AM

Matt… I pop in there every now and then 11:41:09 AM
◄*poop 11:41:24 AM
◄haha 11:41:27 AM
Sarah… you’re kidding, right??? Sam told you too?? 11:41:33 AM

Of course I had a performance review scheduled with my boss lady that afternoon.  Trying to feel as professional as I can in a pair of jeans, defeated from my poop typo.. I walk in, shut the door and the first thing she says to me is: “everyone has told me that something hilarious happened today involving you… but no one would tell me what it is… what’s the deal???”  What better way to start my review…. so I tell her.  She starts laughing so hard she’s crying… and then wheezing… the woman can’t breathe (the poo typo is even more funny if you know the people involved… which she does).  Should I start CPR?  No.  That’s awkward.

She decided to make me feel better by telling me about other infamous office typos:  emailing a manager telling him it’d be a fart rip (instead of far trip), addressing an email to Boob (instead of Bob… with every global partner cc’d), and our director of finance sending an email to an admin saying “you cock!” (instead of ‘you rock!’) – We got to laughing so hard, I had to excuse myself and said “I’m so sorry – I need to take a walk” because I couldn’t control the tears… and she excused herself to get a drink of water, catch her breath, and stop the cough-wheeze.  Great start to my performance review… something about maintaining a professional image?  I don’t know.. I was too focused sucking the Cheeto powder-blanket off my fingers.

The awkward was capped later that afternoon when my work stalker asked if he could set me up on a blind date.  Nope. 

Does anyone recall my badminton work story by chance?  I’m honestly not sure how I’m still employed.  Words cannot express how glad I was to leave the office that day – this in turn made for an excellent Friday night at a ridiculously amazing karaoke dive bar followed by a fort in my living room.  Let’s see if I can make it through this week 😉