That Girl Moment #1001: They See Me Rollin'....

I think I have adequately mentioned the fact that I might not exactly be the best driver in the world. Here's how you know it's bad: you get comforted by the sound of Dennis Haysbert telling you that you're in good hands.


Saturday night, I was rolling- late as usual-and as I rolled into Bicknell, I must've rolled through a stop sign.

That sentence had more rolls than a SharPei dog.


...rolling along....


I didn't even realize I had done anything wrong at all. Didn't notice, that is, UNTIL I saw those lovable red and blue lights flashing behind me.
YES! I had been looking to be introduced to the local police force.

The officer walked up to my window. "Ma'am, I am an officer with the Bicknell Police Department. May I see your license please?" He was very very polite to me.

I began to fish out my wallet and in one of my most grandiose That Girl moments-within-a-moment, I handed him a card only to realize as he took it from me, that I had not fished out my Driver's License but rather my debit card....
....clearly a Freudian slip as I was wondering how much this little introduction to the BPD was going to cost me. The officer chuckled and said, "That won't do me much good, will it?"
I wanted so badly to tell him that it really, really wouldn't do him any good if I had to pay for a ticket.
I held my tongue. Aren't you so glad?
He then asked me The Question Dreaded by Boyfriends and Husbands All Around The World. "Ma'am, do you know why I stopped you and what you did wrong?"


What I wanted to say: "Sir, with all due respect it's a crapshoot. I probably had multiple driving errors trying to get to my fiance's house while simultaneously running late, applying mascara (which may or may not end up running down my face here shortly), and turning the radio dial to Delilah."

For the record, I didn't put on mascara or listen to Delilah on the night in question.


What I actually said: "Sir, I am late for the parade and I was trying to get to the home of my fiance so I am assuming I was speeding?!"
I said, more in question form so as not to confess if I hadn't been actually CAUGHT speeding. Truth be told, I am unsure as to what the speed limit is on that street...Cringe.




"Actually, ma'am," he informed, "You're late for the parade. It's in Vincennes and it's already 6:30, you know."

{Right or wrong, hence the speeding.}

"Who's your fiance?" he asked.
"Well sir, his name is Seth Alexander." I left out the part where he was the pastor of the church down the street. Last time I got a ticket, I told the officer I was en route to Bible study. I got a ticket and a disapproving glare. I promise it was the truth! He said he didn't know him and I was a little relieved,

You didn't make a complete stop at that stop sign back there."



Hmmm. True.


He looked at my license again and said, "Do you have any unpaid tickets?"

Nope.

"You ever been arrested?"

Nope. I'd never survive in prison. I'm That Girl.

"Okay, ma'am. I am going to let you go with a warning this time. Make sure you stop fully at each stop sign, okay?"

I agreed and off I went. Slowly, counting to five mississippi at ech stop sign thereafter.

________________________________________________________

At 11:30 that night, I got on the road to head back home. There was a car in front of me going a little fast so although I was startled to see the blue and red lights in my rearview (again), I figured he was after that speed demon scoundrel in front of me.


Oh but alas! He did not pass me in a fit of hurry. He pulled in behind me to my shock and horror. I remember praying, "Dear God, if there is any mercy left for me, please go ahead and give me the ticket but please don't let it be the same cop. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE with sugar and puppies on top and sprinkles!!"

It's a miracle God still loves me.

The officer slowly walked up to my car and I sighed heavily with relief when I realized it was not the same officer even though I probably deserved that. The officer, very polite like the other one and very professional, first told me he was from the BPD.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?"

I should've learned the first time but I gave it the good ole college try once again: "I was speeding?!"

People, it was like a movie that just wouldn't end. I felt so ashamed but I also had to bite the side of my cheek to keep from bursting out with "I met your friend in a similar series of unfortunate events."

"No ma'am, you didn't stop completely at the stop sign back there."

Ironically it was the very same intersection. Dang it.

The officer gave me my second warning of the night and I felt worse than I would've had I actually received a ticket.


Who gets pulled over twice in one night, people? An awesome defensive driver, that's who.



I have learned my lesson. I am reformed STOP-er. No more rolls for me! Well, at least rolls through a stop sign. Now pumpkin rolls, that's another story.

Eye of the volcano.

This morning I was preparing to brush my teeth when I accidentally flicked the tube opening on my toothbrush. I blinked my eyes.

and oh the burning.


it felt like someone dropped sulfuric acid into my eyeball using a Visine container.

mother of pearl!


Don't worry. It wasn't sulfuric acid after all. It was only Arm 'n Hammer BAKING SODA Toothpaste.


If I cry this week, it may appear that I'm rabid, but don't you worry bloggerotsky. My eye is only temporarily a volcano science project.



my teeth are very clean as well in case you were wondering. I did the world a favor and went ahead to finish brushing my teeth even as the burning ensued.



Don't fret. I'm fine now. My eye is no longer burning and I have learned my lesson about the dangers of baking soda toothpaste. :D


Have a great day!

Flea Market Fun.

A couple of my friends, Liz and Amber, and I headed out of town last Saturday for some good ole fashioned flea market shopping. We found some absolute WONDERS, people. WONDERS.

For your viewing pleasure:




My dear friend Liz who introduced us to the quaint town of Robinson, IL and all its charms.




Liz and Amber, who have been great friends and sisters in Christ to me over the years--even The Years of Bad Hair. Now that's friendship!


Do you need a home? My real estate company beckons you! Who even knew I was competent enough to sell real estate? Haha.



Jami, this one's for you. I don't know if any of you Bloggerotsky love some Southern Gospel music, but this Kingsmen album is like Jesus with a jukebox.

I'm holding a Scottie Dog gravy boat.

You read that last sentence right. I assure you.

Liz rockin' the Quail Creek hat.

Every season is poncho season!

She looks like a creeper. Don't worry, I told her that myself.

What a TREASURE.

Amber's classy piggy bank find.

Here piggy piggy.
SOOOOIE.

That looks like a Sunday church hat.

Liz, what big eyes you have!

Me Hearty Liz. This be pleasin' to me eye.

I wish it would have been a watermelon. Like Baby in Dirty Dancing: "I carried a watermelon."

Strawberry just doesn't have the same ring to it.

The fundamentalist response to the Feminine Mystique. The three of us read it aloud and laughed all the way home. It says in one portion of the book that all women have to do is "obey your husband." No reference to as he obeys Jesus or anything! It was slightly appaling to us and sweet Amber (who is a great wife in my opinion) said, "Well, I guess I can stop reading my Bible and praying now. I'll just ask Tracy from now on." Of course, she was being tongue-in-cheek. I'll have to blog some of the more ridiculous things in the book.

SEMPER PARATUS, girls.

So I haven't gotten around to telling you too much about this, but I never learned to ride a bike without training wheels as a kid. Seth decided it was time for me to learn, and there are pictures and videos to come regarding this endeavor. When I found out about the bike I decided to look for a helmet and SHAZAM!

Look at that creepy Barbie eyeing me as I take a necklace.

All that with a bow on top. hah!

Birdcage veil is not my best look. I'll file it away in my memory bank.

"Betty White's Guide to Dancing" or something like that. Too bad Liz didn't get a pic of the page where she told us how TO dance. Since now I know how NOT to and all.

You have no idea, Buddy.

Creepy lurker doll and a nice photo of Liz's moccasins.

They should call it "That Girl's Laws of Life"

Wow.

The only OBLONG in the whole wide world, I'm told.

Trekking through the weeds with determination. Amber took this pic from Liz's sunroof.

That's one awkward facial expression.

It was great and very cheap fun and I hope you'll let me know in the comments the best treasure you've ever found in a flea market!

That Girl Moment #981: Puppy Power.

I am beginning to rethink my desire for a dog.

The family with whom I live part-time just recently got a St. Bernard puppy. Her name is Riley and she has helped me realize several things. For example, I now know why St. Bernards in all the movies have that little barrel filled with Grandpa's cough medicine. It's not for warming people in the dead of winter.


It's for the nerves.


You see, last night (or early this morning--I hung out with the girls at church until a very late hour) and when I finally got to the T's house, I collapsed on the couch, thankful for sleep. However, during what I am sure was my deepest cycle of REM, I was rudely awakened by a noisy neighbor. Since Riley came to stay, her kennel is on the other side of the wall, which is normally not a big deal. But last night for some reason, Riley was in distress.

The next thing I have learned about St. Bernards (and most other dogs) is that there are different kinds of sounds made by them depending on what is going on and/or what kinds of doggy voices they hear in their heads. For example, when they have the opportunity to enjoy a Beggin' Strip if they "sing" (my friends Amber and Shayne do this with their dog and Hershey the black lab makes noises that give dolphins a headache all the way in the ocean. Seriously I shook my head and could not quite figure out why they reward him for making such an incredibly obnoxious noise. Sweet niblets, it's like slipping money to Lamb Chop, God Rest her soul, under the table to do yet another rendition of the song that doesn't end.

Turns out Riley has some different noises she likes to make at 330 AM. Here is a bulleted list for you.

• Regular bark-the only normal noise Riley makes
• Regular bark with a twist of whine
• "Whine with Cheese" --an emphatic, pay attention to me whine
• "Primitive Puppy"- a high-pitched sort of moan that would make anyone cry with her
• which brings me to "The Waterworks"--a miserable sort of grief stricken form of Primitive Puppy
• "Father Howling Mysteries" (loved the show by the way)-the half-howl, half-whimper emitted from a low key to a high key
• Damsel in Distress--the "a raccoon is getting me and you need to come save me before I become a rabid bloody mess" kind of sound

This is pretty much the order of Riley's sounds last night. By the time it got to the Damsel, I knew something had to be done. I was concerned for her welfare.

Since I had removed my contact lenses as I do every night before going to bed, I could not see anything. My prescription is a -5.75 and that's on a good day. This was the dead of night and I could see a glimmer of a big fur ball in the kennel only by the light of the moon.

Oh, and did I mention that I wasn't wearing pants?

Don't judge, Bloggerotsky. I was tired and didn't want to wake the whole house up in order to find my pj pants. Don't worry. They have a fence.

that may not justify my decision to walk onto the back patio sans pants but please know that Riley had given me the Damsel call and I was worried about some nocturnal creature ripping her to absolute shreds and oh the carnage that would ensue. In my mind, going pantsless was of life or death importance to Riley and for future generations, as 4Him would say.

I quickly went to the screened in porch to check on Riley. I wouldn't actually have to go outside! I turned on the light, saw no sign of raccoons or other ugly and unsavory characters, and flipped the light back off. I went back to my cozy bed and shut my eyes.

For two blissful minutes, all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even The Dog. Miss Riley Cujo Thompson was safe in her happy place, the kennel of joy. At least that's the way we act when she goes in.

Until.

Until she came up with another noise of which I was formerly unaware.

Since I am now fully awake and in a better humor, I will not tell you what I called that noise last night. I will only tell you that I gave that noise a moniker of brilliance just now.

I call it "DJ SouthPaw" because Riley was playin' the kennel like Run DMC at the turntable. As in, she was taking her paw nails as I call them, and scraping them across the bottom of the cage.

Nails on a chalkboard people. I needed that barrel stat.

I threw off my covers in a fit of rage and walked outside. I had only a small amount of compassion for Riley simply because I knew what it was like to have to pee pee and hold it. So I opened the kennel and took Riley by the collar over to 'the area' where she is allowed to do her business. I stood there as I expected her to show her gratitude by making it quick as hello I was in my skivs and such. But no. Of course not. She looked up and me and I think she may have grinned in her St. Bernard puppy way but I can't be sure because hello I didn't have my contacts in. Then she took off toward the pool. She drank a little pool water and I went after her. First I prayed that God would help me to spare her life at this really UNgodly hour and then I hustled behind her. She ran away to her water bowl where she proceeded to drink enough water to float the Ark again and by then I was hopping mad, blind as a bat, still without pants, and considering if dogs were also covered under the Ten Commandments.

Lord have mercy it was a sight.

I grabbed her somewhat half-heartedly by the collar and she twisted out of my grasp.

Riley thought it was playtime.

She began to dodge every movement I made and bark very loudly. I was trying to keep her quiet to keep her from waking up the rest of the family and thus seeing me in my skivs trying to corral this perturbing pupkin. As if it wasn't awkward enough.

Finally somehow by the grace of God I took hold of her collar after narrowly avoiding her puppy teeth as she wrestled to play, and jerked her pulled her gently into her kennel. I promptly walked inside, shut off the lights and returned to my cozy bed.

I wasn't there for more than 30 seconds when DJ Paw started her house party again. But this time I closed my eyes and let it lull me to sleep.

That Girl Moment: #975: Altar Call Gone Wrong.

Many of you know I preached on Monday night because you bombarded Heaven with your prayers and I am so grateful for that. It went well, only because God was in charge of the whole thing and not That Girl standing up there speaking.

I know God was in charge because the message went out in spite of my thick tongue and ample mistakes.

Like at one point when I referred to Timothy as Tiffany.

I Think We're Alone Now. Because everyone just got up and walked out.

I'm just kidding. They didn't get up and walk out. God's Word went forth with power. In spite of ME.

This was no more clear than after the altar call. The invitation that I wrecked. The Holy moment on which my clumsiness intruded.

I felt the presence of the Lord as I instructed those gathered at the church to think about what God said to them and respond. I gave them a few suggestions and questions to ponder. Then I went to move the music stand.

And it went downhill from there like the Pilgrims' Plunge.

I picked up the music stand.

Let me stop here and explain to you that I LOVE.MY.BIBLE. It's a New Oxford Annotated, and it has lots of notes in the side from my professors, my pastor boyfriend, and pretty much anyone under whose teaching I have ever sat. If something happened to it, I would be distraught. If someone stole it I would hit 'em up style probably with the blessing of Jesus himself. All that being said, this B-I-B-L-E has seen some better days. It has lots of letters and notecards and church bulletins and all kinds of things in it and if you shook it you would think you busted open a little pinata of paper. Little notes, ten cent cards, sweet mementos and lots of other associated things collect in my Bible almost like they did in my old car Darla.

So, imagine my horror when after a stirring invitation to respond to the love of Jesus that casts out all fear, I moved the music stand upon which my Bible rested, and it

fell to the floor.


You would have thought a tiny paper factory blew up.


All my stuff fell out and scattered the ground and a massive cringe was felt 'round the world. I tried to kneel gracefully in order to collect my things as I felt bad for the people in the pew who were embarrassed and feeling bad for me. Plus, forget the questions I had asked. All anyone could think was how did all that paper come out of that Bible?



The cover actually FELL OFF. Like, for good. I am trying to decide whether to get out the duct tape or to get it rebound courtesy of Blessings, my family's Christian bookstore.


I know that message wasn't me because people still responded to the Gospel even after I made a total spectacle of myself.

As my friend Rita would say, "Well, praise the Lord anyhow."

I know I just posted a YouTube video, but it is a sad one. I wanted to find a way to cheer you...


and then my coworker introduced me to this piece of GOLD.



(can't believe the pastor approved it on the way in :D )



This soooo made my day.

May I present to you...

"Forever: A Wedding Processional"

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.

Q and A...

I got completely done with my Q and A post and my computer failed to keep the connection. So all of my time answering your questions has been wasted.


I will put the answers up tomorrow.


If I am done sucking my thumb and weeping in the fetal position.

we'll see.

fine. Tomorrow it is.
Because you're worth it.


:D