That Girl Moment #956: Bloomer Blooper.

I feel like a desert that just saw the rain.


For a while there, I had so many That Girl moments, but due to sensitive situations or subject matter I couldn't tell you. It's not fair for me to air the laundry of others...

but I can sure hang mine up on the blog line.


Last night I decided it would be a good idea to visit Jami. I have been going stark raving nuts over housing assignments this week and I needed a break after work.

That break needed to involve Candace's famous Chicken Ring, two of my favorite chick flicks -which just happen to be When Harry Met Sally and Two Weeks Notice if you must know- and a big ole watermelon on which I got quite a Deal. Unfortunately the watermelon was slightly overripe (hence The Deal) which was a disappointing outcome for me personally but Jami's big sis Jen enjoyed it.

That break also needed to include me doing some laundry. Not hardcore, but just enough to get me through a few days. If I do the laundry at the apartment, it costs me at least two dollars a load, and that's just if the heating element in the dryer decides to make good for me. I'm sure it's nothing personal, but sometimes my clothes don't get completely dry the first round. It's not about overloading, either--unless you consider overloading two towels and a washcloth. I digress. Anyway, it's costing me almost as much as my almond habit. And NOTHING gets in between my almonds and me. I gots tah tell ya, if you made me choose between getting my $1.99 gas station almonds and clean clothes, I am going to be That Girl that is wearing the same shirt she wore yesterday.

$2 a load may not break my piggy bank, but you just go ahead and try to find 8 quarters. I could go to the bank but that'd be too easy, and there is something about giving them a beautiful $10 bill and getting back change. I know it spends the same, but it's a mental thing for me. The gas station attendants are so sick of me coming in to get quarters that I'm pretty sure they'd like to tell me where I can put my George Washington if you know what I mean. And then on top of that there's the whole almond temptation once again.

For all of those reasons, I pushed some clothes into a little wicker basket (thanks Mandy and Prov girls) and carried it to the car There were too many clothes in the basket so I had to hold it against myself to make it. I put the clothes in the backseat. I hitched up the wagon and headed to Jami's new apartment.

While there I decided that we could have the best reality show ever. Waaay better and more interesting than The Hills. Classier than Paris and Nicole. We even have a set of words that are original. There are moments in my life when I will look at Jami and say, "Read my mind right now."

she can.

so so scary.

Anyway, we cooked dinner, watched movies, and did laundry. I stayed overnight and I got up early this morning (you can tell too-the hair has seen better days). It was raining pretty hard so I was relieved I didn't spend too much time on the hair or it would have been wasted anyway. Anytime my wavy hair gets in the vicinity of humidity, it turns into Gene Wilder's hair when he played Willy Wonka. It ain't pretty, folks.

I drove back to my apartment complex unassumingly. An unexpected surprise greeted my arrival.

A brown shirt lying in the grass soaked by the rain.

Next to it, a pair of unmentionables also drenched by said rain.

I need to praise God at this point in the story because they were middle-of-the-road unmentionables, meaning they weren't my best pair but they weren't a set of Grannies that would have caused me to fall to my knees in a heap of embarrassment or walk by them and shake my head in disgust like "how could someone possibly drop those things and not notice" either. Instead I only prayed for the earth to swallow me whole as I considered the possibility that every.single.neighbor, all 11 of them (including... Jami read my mind) had now seen my bizness.


I glanced around quickly and pounced on them like Boy George at an eyeshadow sale and practically ran back to my apartment. I say practically because if you have been reading this blog for any length of time you know that I do not run unless someone is chasing me.

I got to the door and realized I didn't really have a battle plan to take care of the profusely dripping shirt (Natalie Grant: Live For Today t-shirt) and underoos. I carefully carry them back outside (because my embarrassment was not yet complete) as I literally had to wring them out. As I stood there in the puddle of water I had now created by my own carelessness, I had the most wonderful and slightly terrifying thought.


The drought of That Girl Moments is over.