"Be prepared." This is the Girl Scout motto. It should be "be prepared to be shut down." or "be prepared to want to quit after one year" At least these were my personal Girl Scout mottos.
When I first joined as a little 9-year-old, I was ready to go all-in. I knew of the delicious cookies and fun field trips, so I was willing to don the brown uniform, (brown was my LEAST favorite color at the time, just so you know) all for the exclusive club of fellow little girls.
I was not disappointed in the beginning. The field trips were exciting and had much better benefits than the standard school trips. The best field trip was by far our trip to a famous local bakery where we got to go behind the scenes into the kitchen. As we toured around, what do you know? We came upon a large table covered with the most beautiful, buttery danishes I'd ever seen! The head chef, our tour guide, grinned from ear to ear as he told us that we were all allowed to have half a danish. (Have I mentioned my love of free food?)
We (meaning me) squealed with glee as we all ran and grabbed a pre-cut half of a danish. I can taste it now: cherry flavored heaven. After our chomping pleasure was complete (maybe 30 seconds?) we looked to see that the chef had anticipated two or three more troops because the table was still covered with yummy-looking danishes. In just a minute of hesitation, he grinned again and told us we could all have another half.
Another half! Can we say BEST. DAY. EVER? Almost 10 years later, I still remember the fluttering in my chest. I'm pretty sure I made my joy clear to the other girls, to the mom volunteers, and especially to my beloved chef. As I finished my beloved cheese danish half, I noticed that although the table certainly had empty spots here and there, there were certainly some lonely danishes still left on the table. I looked around to see how much my fellow Girl Scouts had enjoyed our luck, and knew what I had to do.
I looked up to the nearest mom volunteer and asked, "Can we have a third piece?"
Silence. My cookie-selling peers looked at me with disgust, and the mom volunteers looked at me with pity. I apparently did not read the fine print in the Girl Scout code that says little girls NEVER ask for thirds. Sure we can sell cookies to people by the carton, but to consume more than one danish? Pure gluttony.
When I realized that it wasn't just the mom volunteers who were embarrassed for me, but the girls in the troop as well, I realized that the Girl Scouts suck. There, I've said it. I will always resent them for holding out that last half danish on me and making me feel like a pig. I can only hope that the chef was secretly thrilled that I couldn't get enough and that he is still waiting to marry me and bake me danishes every morning.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Handy Manny goes to the Movies
Remember when the movie The Matrix came out, and most people went on and on about what a great movie it was? I was never one of those people. I couldn't understand why most people liked it, or even why I didn't. After describing my situation to some people, I realized I hadn't had the best theater-going experience.
I was 16 when I saw The Matrix at the local movie theater, and it was one of the first real dates I'd ever been on. My date was a very nice boy as well as a new friend of mine who was hoping o become a combination of the two. In my attempts to play it casual and cool, as we sat down in our seats, I tried to lean my head a little closer to him. I guess I wasn't as subtle as I thought because he looked at me with this grin on his face and said, "Oh, is THAT how you want to play?"
I guess that was true because I was happy that he followed this up with putting his arm around my shoulders. Even though I thought the line was weird, this was basically what I thought was right for a date, so I went with it.
Not too long into the film, I raised my left hand up to meet his, and he held onto it. At first, I'll admit this was very exciting! This was a real date, hand-holding and all! Then he proceeded to massage my hand with his. I thought this was weird, but I could tell that he thought this was the way to my heart, which in itself seemed sweet. I will say that more than an hour's worth of rough massaging of the top of my hand is actually not the way to my heart. It's the way to a very sore hand.
I tried excusing myself to the bathroom, but when I came back he did the same thing, and I was too shy to push him away. Let me say that I knew at that point that this date was both a first and last with this handy guy.
The one thing I liked about that viewing of The Matrix? That it ended.
I was 16 when I saw The Matrix at the local movie theater, and it was one of the first real dates I'd ever been on. My date was a very nice boy as well as a new friend of mine who was hoping o become a combination of the two. In my attempts to play it casual and cool, as we sat down in our seats, I tried to lean my head a little closer to him. I guess I wasn't as subtle as I thought because he looked at me with this grin on his face and said, "Oh, is THAT how you want to play?"
I guess that was true because I was happy that he followed this up with putting his arm around my shoulders. Even though I thought the line was weird, this was basically what I thought was right for a date, so I went with it.
Not too long into the film, I raised my left hand up to meet his, and he held onto it. At first, I'll admit this was very exciting! This was a real date, hand-holding and all! Then he proceeded to massage my hand with his. I thought this was weird, but I could tell that he thought this was the way to my heart, which in itself seemed sweet. I will say that more than an hour's worth of rough massaging of the top of my hand is actually not the way to my heart. It's the way to a very sore hand.
I tried excusing myself to the bathroom, but when I came back he did the same thing, and I was too shy to push him away. Let me say that I knew at that point that this date was both a first and last with this handy guy.
The one thing I liked about that viewing of The Matrix? That it ended.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Quit Looking at Me Like That
With the freezing weather we've had lately, my car has acted up in different ways. Today, the trunk wouldn't open even though the key turned in the lock easily. Because I was in a parking lot with someone waiting for my spot, I decided to forget the trunk, throw things in the back seat, and off I went.
It wasn't until I was on the highway that I looked to see a light on the dashboard. What's that, car of mine? The trunk is now open while I'm driving? I looked back and realized that with each bump, my trunk was waving hello to the car behind me.
I was hoping I could make it all the way home without being pulled over, and purposefully drove slowly to ease the effects of a bumpy road. As I pulled gently to a stop at a red light, I looked to see that my trunk was at full mast, displaying the contents of my trunk to anyone who'd like easy access. I jumped out of my car as quickly as I could and slammed down the trunk. As I jumped back into the drivers seat and happily noticed that the light was still red, I looked over and saw that the guy in the car next to me had been watching the whole thing with this amused stare. As soon as the light turned green I flew by without a wave goodbye...of any kind.
I have to say that this whole situation does remind me of a time in Vegas. (Now, now, get your mind out of the gutter, thanks).
I was in Vegas with my dad when I was 15 for one of his conventions and I had to entertain myself each morning while my dad was in meetings. As I walked up and down the strip, I realized that I needed a bathroom, and fast! I saw the nearest hotel and speed-walked towards the door. Well, I'll be the first to admit that when a bathroom is on the brain, I really can't focus on much else. I was so determined to make it into the hotel that I didn't realize just how good a job the staff had done of cleaning what I soon discovered -the hard way- was the wall of a revolving door. (Man, that's some good window cleaner!) As I felt the growing bump on my forehead, I felt grateful that at least I had experienced my embarrassment alone.
That's when I passed a group of about 4 or 5 middle-aged men laughing and pointing at me/the revolving door.
"Did you see that girl just walk into the door? She just walked right into it!"
Luckily I found the nearest bathroom very quickly. I was hoping I could put the story behind me, but when I got back, my dad immediately noticed the bulge on my forehead. When I told him the story, I had yet another middle-aged man laughing and pointing.
I spent the rest of the week's mornings by the pool.
It wasn't until I was on the highway that I looked to see a light on the dashboard. What's that, car of mine? The trunk is now open while I'm driving? I looked back and realized that with each bump, my trunk was waving hello to the car behind me.
I was hoping I could make it all the way home without being pulled over, and purposefully drove slowly to ease the effects of a bumpy road. As I pulled gently to a stop at a red light, I looked to see that my trunk was at full mast, displaying the contents of my trunk to anyone who'd like easy access. I jumped out of my car as quickly as I could and slammed down the trunk. As I jumped back into the drivers seat and happily noticed that the light was still red, I looked over and saw that the guy in the car next to me had been watching the whole thing with this amused stare. As soon as the light turned green I flew by without a wave goodbye...of any kind.
I have to say that this whole situation does remind me of a time in Vegas. (Now, now, get your mind out of the gutter, thanks).
I was in Vegas with my dad when I was 15 for one of his conventions and I had to entertain myself each morning while my dad was in meetings. As I walked up and down the strip, I realized that I needed a bathroom, and fast! I saw the nearest hotel and speed-walked towards the door. Well, I'll be the first to admit that when a bathroom is on the brain, I really can't focus on much else. I was so determined to make it into the hotel that I didn't realize just how good a job the staff had done of cleaning what I soon discovered -the hard way- was the wall of a revolving door. (Man, that's some good window cleaner!) As I felt the growing bump on my forehead, I felt grateful that at least I had experienced my embarrassment alone.
That's when I passed a group of about 4 or 5 middle-aged men laughing and pointing at me/the revolving door.
"Did you see that girl just walk into the door? She just walked right into it!"
Luckily I found the nearest bathroom very quickly. I was hoping I could put the story behind me, but when I got back, my dad immediately noticed the bulge on my forehead. When I told him the story, I had yet another middle-aged man laughing and pointing.
I spent the rest of the week's mornings by the pool.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
An Unimportant Announcement
Last week or so, I attended a meeting for my graduate program that was intended to be half social, half informative. During the informative part, I began to fidget. (I tend to do this when I'm listening to someone and it's hard for me to control.) Anyway, in my private fidgeting, I accidentally kicked the foot of the girl sitting next to me. We both immediately whispered a "Sorry" to one another, me hoping that she wouldn't realize she had no reason to be sorry herself, when the chairman of the department looked over at us and asked if I had a question. To be fair, he wasn't asking in one of those snide ways that teachers do when they know you're not paying attention. This was the part of the meeting where he really wanted to know students' concerns. When I tried saying that it was nothing, that there was no question, he pushed forward, trying to show everyone just how concerned he is with the program. Realizing that he wasn't going to let us off the hook, I finally just admitted to the entire room,
"We bumped feet."
This was when I regretted an earlier decision for all of us to sit in a circle so that everyone was facing everyone else. Nothing makes you feel more professional than telling all of your academic peers (and some professors!) that you cannot sit still during a 30 minute meeting. Next time I might try to come up with something a little more extreme to liven things up.
"We bumped feet."
This was when I regretted an earlier decision for all of us to sit in a circle so that everyone was facing everyone else. Nothing makes you feel more professional than telling all of your academic peers (and some professors!) that you cannot sit still during a 30 minute meeting. Next time I might try to come up with something a little more extreme to liven things up.
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