Monday, July 21, 2014

In Which I Go Dancing

I went out dancing the other night with my friend Sharell and it reminded me of how I went out dancing the week before and did not recount this truly excellent story.

(Sidenote-when I say I go out dancing, I do not mean that I put on a tiny dress and go out and twerk or drop it like it's hot or whatever the kids are doing these days. I'm white. I'm far too clumsy to drop it like it's hot. I'm more apt to just drop it. In fact, my friend Emily has always threatened to buy me this shirt, which I think it's a lot more fitting.
So when I say I go out dancing, I mean I go out to my local Arthur Murray and get my foxtrot on. Or rumba. Or if I'm feeling really ambitious, my salsa. I dig ballroom, okay?)

Back to my story -

Sharell and I met up to do our ballroom thing and it was fun, as it usually is. I enjoy dancing. It's fun. I just wish it weren't so expensive, but that's not the point.

Our dancing party let out at the super late hour of 10 pm because that's how the Arthur Murray rolls on a Friday night (whatwhat). Sharell and I proceeded to hang out in the parking lot for a while and catch up, which is how we roll.

Eventually the bugs on a July night in Michigan get to be too much for us, so we go sit in her car to keep on talking. Time flies when you're having fun and next thing you know, it's 11:30 pm.

While we've been sitting there, many people have come into the lot trying to go to the nearby Subway, despite the fact that it's obviously closed. We laugh at them because well...it's 11 o'clock. Do you really need your Spicy Italian at that hour? (Answer-Yes. Yes, they do.)

The Law and Order section of the evening starts right before we both decided to go home. One of the final cars to pull into the lot was something I've dubbed a Mini-Hearse. It had some of its' windows blacked out and they, strangely enough, did not attempt to go to the Subway. They pulled into the lot so they could watch us all creepy style from their drivers side window. Sharell and I noticed and watched them through her rear-view mirror and her side-view mirror (respectively) and decided it was totally weird.

It then got weirder when I went to my car and he def watched me walk the 20 feet like I was an all-you-can-eat buffet (Sharell obviously stayed to make sure I got in my car in one piece). We both pulled out and apparently, so did Creepy Mini-Hearse. He didn't seem to follow either of us, but like, is that not the beginning of a Dateline or a 20/20? I totally called the BF on the way back to his house to be like "I AM COMING, JUST SO YOU KNOW".
He then was like "Omfg, that was so unsafe, I cannot even with you," and locked all the doors to his house (something he never does ever) and turned off all the lights, too. It was adorable and kind of overprotective and even though he thinks it's weird that I'll have me a Murder Marathon, it's good to know that I probably won't be starring in one anytime soon.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

In Which I Turn 28

Tomorrow marks the end of my first week away from the Giant Green Monster. I had my final shift this past Sunday and was pleased to see that there were no more shenanigans, no more tom foolery, no more general bullshit. I was off the schedule.
I was free. Correction-I am free.

But before that I had to work one shift before my birthday (and then an uneventful shift after my birthday, but we're really gathered here to talk about my birthday).

We here in Metro Detroit had a doozy of a storm just before the 4th, but shockingly enough my house got through unphased. I woke up just before the shit hit the fan and thought I should plug in my phone because God knows if I spend any time without it I'll probably keel over. A few minutes later the lightning and thunder showed up with Mother Nature to show us who's boss (pro-tip: not us). My house didn't lose power and I flipped her the bird on the way out.
Bad Move.

In the morning it turned out we had lost our cable, our phones (landline) and our Internet. We also had blown a few fuses and I had to go into the craphole of a basement to reset them. After donning full basement gear (a hoodie with the hood up, sleeves pulled over the hands and a flashlight), I went down to fight the fuse box. However, unbeknownst to me, when our house was rewired back in December we had entered the early 20th Century with toggle switch fuses. This means I had absolutely no idea how they worked. Luckily for me, my mother had already called my father, who was attempting to explain how they work over the phone. Being my father's daughter, I snatched the phone right out of her hand and spoke directly to the source while she walked away muttering, "You are just like your father."

Once I learned how 1960's tech worked, I got the house somewhat functioning.

Of course, karma being the bitch she is (or maybe she's a sister of Mother Nature, who knows) we lost power later that evening. DTE told us we wouldn't get it back until after July 4th, meaning after my birthday, after the party I was having and more importantly, after the homemade birthday cake I would be making. Which would have to be at Le Boyfriend's house, since we didn't have any power.

But to cut a not very interesting story even shorter, DTE got their shit together and we got power back in a timely fashion for the party which was a success and I made a cake at my own house for my 28th birthday.

It was a homemade yellow layer cake with lemon butter cream, in case you were wondering.