The last ransom note?
Monday, October 31, 2005
Andy's weekly Monday musings:
- I wasn't really around all that much with the grandparents. But I was aroudn enough to have a memory or two. It was probably around the second year Ash and I were dating and I think we were over there for Christmas or something and I came up for a drink and to check the football scores with the "adults" after being in the basement for awhile. Grandma invited me in to sit by her, and there was just something about her body language and how she invited me over that made me feel like a real part of this new family. I've felt like a family member ever since.
- I hate incompetent people. I work with a guy that is supposed to be a marketing guru, but everything he does is so poorly researched and planned that my boss and I end up redoing it most of the time. Pisses me off.
- I really wish the commodities market would level out. This constant flux in the prices of natural gasses is bamboozeling.
- My cat's breath smells like cat food.
- Cole and his room mate still owe me money. I wonder if I could steal his truck or talk his girlfriend into giving him the silent treatment until he pays up.
- The bastard-coated bastard of a professor that has a creamy bastard center is better this week, but the resolution of last week's rant is that I nailed the problem and nobody else did. The class is called "International Business Theory" but the only thing we have studied thus far is economics because he is an economics professor. No marketing, no accounting, no management, just econ. It is a load of crap. I can't wait to have these core classes done and get back to the sweet release of marketing.
- I hope it rains. I installed new windshield wipers on the cars this weekend. i want to play with them
- I would also like Paul to write an essay on the President's leadership over the last three months. I would be interested to hear his viewpoints, especially after spending most of a semester in a liberal-pinko-commie town like Madison.
- I have decided I would like to visit Madison on a football weekend. Perhaps we wait another year or so for Hayley and other people with fake IDs to get to 21. If we promise beer, we may even get Cole along.
- Peace out, players.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
My memories
I don't know if it's possible to pick a favorite memory of Grandma, but the thing I miss most is our long talks at the kitchen table. When I came home from college for the weekend, sometimes I'd go straight to Grandpa and Grandma's house without stopping at home. No matter how stressed I was about school, just being around Grandma made me forget anything negative in my life. We talked about a lot of mundane stuff, like what people were up to, or the letters she'd written that week, but somewhere along the line she'd manage to give me a piece of advice about life in general. I don't even know if she was aware of it. Right now I'd give anything to tap five times on the door, greet her with a huge hug, and sit around that Formica table in the kitchen with her, eating popcorn, drinking Pepsi, and talking about life.
Grandma was a true lady -- the type of woman I want to be. She spoke the truth, but always with love and tact. She stuck to her principles, but was open-minded enough to consider others' viewpoints. Her mental strength came from her faith, confidence, and love for others. She was the quintessential cozy, cuddly Grandma-type. The family dinners she made are some of the best meals I've ever had. Ham balls and mashed taters ... mmm. :)
Today, many women believe they must be aggressive or intimidating to gain respect. The way Grandma lived her life proves that in the long run, kindness matters. Nice girls don't finish last.
I don't know if it's possible to pick a favorite memory of Grandma, but the thing I miss most is our long talks at the kitchen table. When I came home from college for the weekend, sometimes I'd go straight to Grandpa and Grandma's house without stopping at home. No matter how stressed I was about school, just being around Grandma made me forget anything negative in my life. We talked about a lot of mundane stuff, like what people were up to, or the letters she'd written that week, but somewhere along the line she'd manage to give me a piece of advice about life in general. I don't even know if she was aware of it. Right now I'd give anything to tap five times on the door, greet her with a huge hug, and sit around that Formica table in the kitchen with her, eating popcorn, drinking Pepsi, and talking about life.
Grandma was a true lady -- the type of woman I want to be. She spoke the truth, but always with love and tact. She stuck to her principles, but was open-minded enough to consider others' viewpoints. Her mental strength came from her faith, confidence, and love for others. She was the quintessential cozy, cuddly Grandma-type. The family dinners she made are some of the best meals I've ever had. Ham balls and mashed taters ... mmm. :)
Today, many women believe they must be aggressive or intimidating to gain respect. The way Grandma lived her life proves that in the long run, kindness matters. Nice girls don't finish last.
I know that our Blogs are usually the happy, goofy, random musing of all of us cool Andersons (and Washburns), but mine is more of a reflective blog. I thought that we should dedicate a full blog today for Grandma Norma. As sad as it is to think that she's been gone for 4 years now, I think that each of us should write about a memory we have of Grandma, so that we can remember good times in Nebraska all together or perhaps just a personal memory of each of us with Grandma. So here's mine.
As a young child I loved to go to church because I knew that I could sit between Grandma and Grandpa. Grandpa would be on my right and would always offer me a stick of Fredent gum and Grandma would let me hold her hand and play with her rings. When I was older I remember her telling me about each of them. She'd tell me who got them for her, why each gemstone was the color it was, and just how much she loved them. My favorite one was the ring with a gold band that had multi-colored gemstones. Each gemstone was for the month that each of the kids (our uncles, aunt, and dad) were born in. After I fiddled with her rings I would rest me head on her arm and she would hold my hand. When I was between Grandma and Grandpa I felt as if there wasn't a trouble in the world. Perhaps now that I'm older and more stressed I should think back to those days with Grandma and Grandpa!
As trivial as this memory may seem, it is one that is imprinted into me. I hope that each of you can take the time to write about your favorite memory about Grandma (and Grandpa) too. By the end we all will have six memories that will either come back to us or new ones to remember them by.
As a young child I loved to go to church because I knew that I could sit between Grandma and Grandpa. Grandpa would be on my right and would always offer me a stick of Fredent gum and Grandma would let me hold her hand and play with her rings. When I was older I remember her telling me about each of them. She'd tell me who got them for her, why each gemstone was the color it was, and just how much she loved them. My favorite one was the ring with a gold band that had multi-colored gemstones. Each gemstone was for the month that each of the kids (our uncles, aunt, and dad) were born in. After I fiddled with her rings I would rest me head on her arm and she would hold my hand. When I was between Grandma and Grandpa I felt as if there wasn't a trouble in the world. Perhaps now that I'm older and more stressed I should think back to those days with Grandma and Grandpa!
As trivial as this memory may seem, it is one that is imprinted into me. I hope that each of you can take the time to write about your favorite memory about Grandma (and Grandpa) too. By the end we all will have six memories that will either come back to us or new ones to remember them by.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Monday musings.
Ok, so I just had the strangest experience. See as part of my job, people call me out of the blue all the time with the latest fundraising ideas for the University, or a product they want to market to alumni. I can usually tell after 30 seconds if the product/idea is any good or if the person is a complete wacko. Well, I listen to this guy pitchin game for about ten minutes, I'm beign nice and asking questions even though there is no way that we will likely work with him. I conclude by telling him to send a proposal in writing and we'd let him know. So he takes down all my info and then (here's the weird part) and he's saying goodbye, he says "Ok, thanks for your time. Love you." i didn't know what to say or do so I was just silent. I think he was maybe hoping I hung up the phone. I said, "have a good one" and he said, "Oh God" and quickly hung up. I am still laughing.
I have an econ problem I have been working on for two weeks that I just can't make work. It is frustrating the hell out of me. I spend three hours trying to crack it only to realize as I am writing my summary, that my solution is not feasible. The professor is a bastard. Actually, he is a bastard-coated bastard with a thick creamy bastard-filled center.
It is cold out.
Yes, I had a dream about that econ problem.
Space heaters rule.
Remember our crazy neighbor, skater-dude? This has to be him: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/carsurfing.html
Peace out, players.
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Deck the halls with ... spiders?
I love decorating for the holidays. Right now, pumpkins line our front steps and deck, and they look lovely. But "Halloween lights" and inflatable lawn decorations cross the line of good taste, in my opinion. One of the nicest houses in our neighborhood has two inflatable black-and-purple spiders in the front lawn. They are CREEPY, and are at least 10' x 10' each. Nary a strip of green grass is showing. In addition to the blow-up spiders, this house has an inflatable pumpkin on the porch, orange cobwebs strung all over everything ('twould love to see them now since it's been raining all day), giant plastic spiders covering the bedroom windows, and one of those machines that projects a Halloween design on the garage door. Oy.
Lindsey is the family expert in holiday decorations. The Nebraska Andersons have a tradition of driving around random neighborhoods and checking out Christmas lights. Lindsey has been the official judge for at least six or seven years now. She's the Simon Cowell of Christmas lights:
I love decorating for the holidays. Right now, pumpkins line our front steps and deck, and they look lovely. But "Halloween lights" and inflatable lawn decorations cross the line of good taste, in my opinion. One of the nicest houses in our neighborhood has two inflatable black-and-purple spiders in the front lawn. They are CREEPY, and are at least 10' x 10' each. Nary a strip of green grass is showing. In addition to the blow-up spiders, this house has an inflatable pumpkin on the porch, orange cobwebs strung all over everything ('twould love to see them now since it's been raining all day), giant plastic spiders covering the bedroom windows, and one of those machines that projects a Halloween design on the garage door. Oy.
Lindsey is the family expert in holiday decorations. The Nebraska Andersons have a tradition of driving around random neighborhoods and checking out Christmas lights. Lindsey has been the official judge for at least six or seven years now. She's the Simon Cowell of Christmas lights:
- "Ew, tacky. And their lights are crooked. C-minus!"
- "Ooh, their lights are really straight, and I like the color combination. But it's plain. B!"
- And our favorite, mostly because of the tone of voice she uses: "I give it an A-plus!"
Lindsey, I hereby invite you to judge our neighborhood's Halloween decorations. I'm dying to get your input on the orange-black-purple color scheme that is popular this year.
Friday, October 21, 2005
I think that I've found my new fashion icon! Okay I know this sounds stupid, and Andy and Paul most likely won't appreciate this, but hear me out. So I have a class this semester called Developmental Psychology. My professor for this class is a clinical psychologist at the University Medical Center in Omaha.
When Dr. Raye first walked into class I noticed that she was very well put together. I mean everything matched. The lavender on her jacket matched her RHINESTONE glasses. I'm not kidding. This lady's glasses are rimmed in rhinestones that are PURPLE. And get this, they're real stones. This lady must be raking it in because she also carries around her Louis Vetton bag like its the next Wal-Mart special. Besides her killer fashion sense she has the craziest hair that I've seen. It's like a shaggy dog's hair gone bad. No offense and all, but it sticks up in about every direction possible. But somehow this bottle-blonde fiasco really works for her. Since you are all aware of my crazy/interesting sense of style you can see how I admire her. She has all the bling and in every color in the spectrum, but she still is the sweetest most energetic professor I've had yet. I only hope that someday I have the funds to back up my fashion taste just like she does!
When Dr. Raye first walked into class I noticed that she was very well put together. I mean everything matched. The lavender on her jacket matched her RHINESTONE glasses. I'm not kidding. This lady's glasses are rimmed in rhinestones that are PURPLE. And get this, they're real stones. This lady must be raking it in because she also carries around her Louis Vetton bag like its the next Wal-Mart special. Besides her killer fashion sense she has the craziest hair that I've seen. It's like a shaggy dog's hair gone bad. No offense and all, but it sticks up in about every direction possible. But somehow this bottle-blonde fiasco really works for her. Since you are all aware of my crazy/interesting sense of style you can see how I admire her. She has all the bling and in every color in the spectrum, but she still is the sweetest most energetic professor I've had yet. I only hope that someday I have the funds to back up my fashion taste just like she does!
Monday, October 17, 2005
Hayley and Lindso said they like it when I am short and sweet. That said, my Monday afternoon observations:
- I hate allergies. Either I sneeze all fall, or I am high as a kite on over-the-counter pills.
- I don't understand window covereings as decoration. Girls must pay attention to this a lot more than guys. I say, as long as the neighbors can't see me walking around naked, and there is not light pouring into the room, what's the problem. Man must see function, women must see form. Who knows?
- Cheerios are a good source of fiber.
- My legs hurt. Advice to you youngins, do not go bike riding for exercise into the wind. ouch.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
There is no place like Nebraska ...
With 1.7 million people -- compared to 6.3 million cows -- Nebraska is small. That means everyone is connected by six degrees of separation, usually fewer.
This state is so small and interconnected that it's a good idea to check your family tree before dating someone, just to make sure that your Great Uncle Homer isn't your boyfriend's Great Uncle Homer. (Andy claims that one of his high school friends dated a girl for two years before realizing she was his second cousin. The couple broke up immediately, and neither asked the inevitable "Why doesn't he/she want me anymore?" question because the reason was obvious.)
On my second day at the new job, I went to lunch with three women from the office.
New co-worker: So, where are you from originally?
Me: I grew up in Beaver Crossing, a little town about 35 miles west of --
NCW: (while gasping and clutching my hand) OHMYGAWD, honey! Me too!
It turns out that she knows Elroy Senior and her two kids went to school with me before they moved to Lincoln.
Just two hours prior to this conversation, another coworker asked me if I was related to the Washburns of Ashland. Why, yes, yes, I am! This coworker used to ride horses with Andy's aunts and uncles and has a daughter that plays softball with Andy's cousin.
Was this a strange, out-of-the-ordinary day? No. Nebraskans engage in these "I know you through someone" conversations all the frickin' time. It's part of what I love about this state, but it gets eerie at times.
Does this happen in Wisconsin, a state with real metropolitan areas? Or are these exchanges limited to residents of the Dakotas, Nebraska, Montana, and Wyoming? (Iowa's a damn showoff with its 4 million+ population, so it doesn't count.)
With 1.7 million people -- compared to 6.3 million cows -- Nebraska is small. That means everyone is connected by six degrees of separation, usually fewer.
This state is so small and interconnected that it's a good idea to check your family tree before dating someone, just to make sure that your Great Uncle Homer isn't your boyfriend's Great Uncle Homer. (Andy claims that one of his high school friends dated a girl for two years before realizing she was his second cousin. The couple broke up immediately, and neither asked the inevitable "Why doesn't he/she want me anymore?" question because the reason was obvious.)
On my second day at the new job, I went to lunch with three women from the office.
New co-worker: So, where are you from originally?
Me: I grew up in Beaver Crossing, a little town about 35 miles west of --
NCW: (while gasping and clutching my hand) OHMYGAWD, honey! Me too!
It turns out that she knows Elroy Senior and her two kids went to school with me before they moved to Lincoln.
Just two hours prior to this conversation, another coworker asked me if I was related to the Washburns of Ashland. Why, yes, yes, I am! This coworker used to ride horses with Andy's aunts and uncles and has a daughter that plays softball with Andy's cousin.
Was this a strange, out-of-the-ordinary day? No. Nebraskans engage in these "I know you through someone" conversations all the frickin' time. It's part of what I love about this state, but it gets eerie at times.
Does this happen in Wisconsin, a state with real metropolitan areas? Or are these exchanges limited to residents of the Dakotas, Nebraska, Montana, and Wyoming? (Iowa's a damn showoff with its 4 million+ population, so it doesn't count.)
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Ahh, changes
Change is so frickin' hard. I know quitting my job to try something new was the right decision, but I feel so craptacular in the meantime. Today was my last day, and it was rough. My immediate co-workers are truly wonderful people and I keep getting teary-eyed when I think about how much I'm going to miss them. They were emotional too, which was flattering, but made me even sadder. Good co-workers are rare. Usually you have a jerk, a gossip, or a slacker that brings everyone down. My workplace had those, but luckily none of them worked directly with me.
We said the usual things about going out to lunch or coffee and keeping in touch. The sentiment was genuine; I just hope we follow through. As life changes and everyone goes their separate ways, keeping in touch becomes an afterthought even though it shouldn't.
So, with a heavy -- yet optimistic -- heart, I'm starting a completely new stage of life tomorrow. I'm a wee bit scared and I don't know where my new path will take me, but I'm ready.
Change is so frickin' hard. I know quitting my job to try something new was the right decision, but I feel so craptacular in the meantime. Today was my last day, and it was rough. My immediate co-workers are truly wonderful people and I keep getting teary-eyed when I think about how much I'm going to miss them. They were emotional too, which was flattering, but made me even sadder. Good co-workers are rare. Usually you have a jerk, a gossip, or a slacker that brings everyone down. My workplace had those, but luckily none of them worked directly with me.
We said the usual things about going out to lunch or coffee and keeping in touch. The sentiment was genuine; I just hope we follow through. As life changes and everyone goes their separate ways, keeping in touch becomes an afterthought even though it shouldn't.
So, with a heavy -- yet optimistic -- heart, I'm starting a completely new stage of life tomorrow. I'm a wee bit scared and I don't know where my new path will take me, but I'm ready.
Monday, October 10, 2005
On Wednesday I have to go to my Bronco Buddy class, Mrs. Hoffschneider's 2nd grade, to introduce myself. So the kids can get to know me, I'm supposed to bring items that represent the lovely Lindsey Anderson. Today I started getting my things together. I was told pictures of family would be nice, so I began looking through my photo album, hoping to find a picture of each sibling (that includes sibling-in-laws), parent, pet, and friend. I had no problem finding pictures of Oscar, Gidget, and Margie, but when it came to my siblings, I was shocked to find that I had no recent pictures. Don't get me wrong, I have pictures of your gorgeous faces, they just aren't all that recent. Andy, you were almost non-existent, and I greatly apologize for that. Since I don't have any pictures of my own, I have to use our family picture from last fall, which sucks because I look like butt in that picture. Because of this, I have come to the conclusion that we MUST have a photo shoot soon! It will be great fun and will allow me to update my photo albums! Adios mi familia.
Note: I was also quite offended to find that Mom must find her daycare children more interesting than her own because she has very few recent pictures of us too.
Note: I was also quite offended to find that Mom must find her daycare children more interesting than her own because she has very few recent pictures of us too.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Wow -- my first ever blog. Sorry, no boy stories here. Just humerous observations on life. As soon as I have one, I'll let you know.
In the meantime, enjoy these:
this guy is my hero: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/sportsnews.html
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/deaddove.html
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/road_trip_prank.html
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/trippyredballs.html
In the meantime, enjoy these:
this guy is my hero: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/sportsnews.html
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/deaddove.html
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/road_trip_prank.html
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/trippyredballs.html
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
As a young'un with dreams of becoming a fabulous career woman, I thought business travel was a mark of becoming successful.
However, Ugly Lesson of Adulthood, No. 297 has taught me that business trips are not the glamorous junkets I fantasized about. Tomorrow I will travel to Dallas to attend a conference that I do not care about and would not care about even if I weren’t leaving this job next week.
I’ve traveled for my job only four times in the past three years. During those trips, I have felt socially inept at least 50 percent of the time. Unlike the camps I attended in high school and college, business conferences are not run by counselors who lead icebreakers and force people to socialize. While I do not miss doing the dreaded “untie the human knot” trick with sweaty, stinky people, I admit those activities fostered a sense of comraderie among us -- even if the only bond we shared was a mutual dislike of the leaders who had OD’ed on Mountain Dew and cheerleading camp.
You can’t predict the crowd at a business conference. Some are rowdy and want to drink ‘till dawn, some prefer to hang out in their hotel rooms and order room service, and some are more cliquey than students at any high school. Although I’m hardly a party girl, I really prefer going to conferences with borderline alcoholics because those folks are much friendlier than the hermits and the cast of Mean Girls 2: Life After Age 30.
Aside from a third-grade slumber party that I’ve mostly blocked from memory, I have never been more homesick than when I attended a conference in Denver two years ago. Only 30 people came, and most already belonged to a clique from an earlier conference that I didn’t attend. The nice people I met either had friends in the area or were traveling with a spouse, which meant I had nobody to socialize with in the evenings. Not that it mattered, because the hotel was 25 minutes from downtown, and the only nearby attractions were Big Lots, Staples, and McDonalds. I cherish my alone-time, but I was so lonely and miserable that I tried to book an early flight home on the last day of the conference. Since all my extra money had been going toward wedding expenses, I couldn’t afford the $100 change fee, so I sucked it up and stayed.
Since I’m giving up a three-day weekend to attend this #%$& thing (and many of the attendees are repeats from the horrible Denver trip), I have a small wish list:
1) I want time to sightsee and go shopping.
2) The drinkers should show up in droves and offer to buy a round for everyone.
3) I hate asking strangers to hang out with me, so I hope someone notices my coolness (ha!) and invites me out to dinner so I won’t feel like a loser.
4) I want my bed to have a fluffy white down comforter and tons of pillows. (It happened once, and it was glorious.)
5) I don’t want a skeezy guy at least a decade older than me to attempt to lure me into a bar or his hotel room. Especially when I remind him (repeatedly) that I am married, and so is he.
That’s all.
However, Ugly Lesson of Adulthood, No. 297 has taught me that business trips are not the glamorous junkets I fantasized about. Tomorrow I will travel to Dallas to attend a conference that I do not care about and would not care about even if I weren’t leaving this job next week.
I’ve traveled for my job only four times in the past three years. During those trips, I have felt socially inept at least 50 percent of the time. Unlike the camps I attended in high school and college, business conferences are not run by counselors who lead icebreakers and force people to socialize. While I do not miss doing the dreaded “untie the human knot” trick with sweaty, stinky people, I admit those activities fostered a sense of comraderie among us -- even if the only bond we shared was a mutual dislike of the leaders who had OD’ed on Mountain Dew and cheerleading camp.
You can’t predict the crowd at a business conference. Some are rowdy and want to drink ‘till dawn, some prefer to hang out in their hotel rooms and order room service, and some are more cliquey than students at any high school. Although I’m hardly a party girl, I really prefer going to conferences with borderline alcoholics because those folks are much friendlier than the hermits and the cast of Mean Girls 2: Life After Age 30.
Aside from a third-grade slumber party that I’ve mostly blocked from memory, I have never been more homesick than when I attended a conference in Denver two years ago. Only 30 people came, and most already belonged to a clique from an earlier conference that I didn’t attend. The nice people I met either had friends in the area or were traveling with a spouse, which meant I had nobody to socialize with in the evenings. Not that it mattered, because the hotel was 25 minutes from downtown, and the only nearby attractions were Big Lots, Staples, and McDonalds. I cherish my alone-time, but I was so lonely and miserable that I tried to book an early flight home on the last day of the conference. Since all my extra money had been going toward wedding expenses, I couldn’t afford the $100 change fee, so I sucked it up and stayed.
Since I’m giving up a three-day weekend to attend this #%$& thing (and many of the attendees are repeats from the horrible Denver trip), I have a small wish list:
1) I want time to sightsee and go shopping.
2) The drinkers should show up in droves and offer to buy a round for everyone.
3) I hate asking strangers to hang out with me, so I hope someone notices my coolness (ha!) and invites me out to dinner so I won’t feel like a loser.
4) I want my bed to have a fluffy white down comforter and tons of pillows. (It happened once, and it was glorious.)
5) I don’t want a skeezy guy at least a decade older than me to attempt to lure me into a bar or his hotel room. Especially when I remind him (repeatedly) that I am married, and so is he.
That’s all.
Monday, October 03, 2005
"Who's Your Date?"
Okay, a couple Friday's ago one of the fraternities near campus had their "Dames and Desperados" Dance which basically is an excuse for crazy hillybilly kids to get their cowboy on. So I had to dress up like a cowgirl (YUCKY, YUCK, YUCK). Well my friend Philip had asked me the previous Sunday. Of course I said yes, because I like a good dance (even though it was country dancing.) Like most frat parties I figured he was just asking to get more people there besides all of the sorority girls that were in attendance. So I asked my super cool roommate to join me on this "Down-home-shindig." As soon as we arrive at the frat house to be bused out (the dance was held by a former Centennial student) my friend ran up to me and mid-hug asked me, "Hayley who's your date?" Okay I look over at Philip and then look at Cassondra and while putting this puzzle together I wip out my Hayley charm and seductively comment, "Well Philip is, but actually he's quite the pimp because he scored TWO dates to this dance!" Philip just smiles and admits that yes, he is the shit. (Pardon my words, but this is all factual) Needless to say I feel like a jerk for the rest of the night and I'm thinking he thinks I'm probably the biggest retard ever.
But of course this story can't be over. I get a phone call from him last Friday and he asks me out again. Well sort of. Boys must assume that when they say "hang out" in casual conversation that I need to know that it's just me and him. Well now I'm catching on to his limited dating lingo. Well, a long time ago when I told him that me and my friends love to go stargazing he tells me that it is stupid. I have faught with him about this numerous times. Anyway so when I ask him what he wants to do he tells me....STARGAZING!!! Oh my word! I freak out here. The problem with Philip is that he is against chick flicks and thinks that only the govenor of California should star in movies (as if anyone really wants to watch Terminator 2 or whatever.) Other than a couple other quirks he is a super cool kid. Of course that's not good enough or something because I just can't bring myself to like him for more than a friend. So back to the topic, he told me that he wanted to take me to an observatory on Saturday night to actually LOOK at the stars.
Well the date didn't end up happening because he didn't call me back (oops!) but as you can see, lately my dating skills have been a bit out of wack.
Okay, a couple Friday's ago one of the fraternities near campus had their "Dames and Desperados" Dance which basically is an excuse for crazy hillybilly kids to get their cowboy on. So I had to dress up like a cowgirl (YUCKY, YUCK, YUCK). Well my friend Philip had asked me the previous Sunday. Of course I said yes, because I like a good dance (even though it was country dancing.) Like most frat parties I figured he was just asking to get more people there besides all of the sorority girls that were in attendance. So I asked my super cool roommate to join me on this "Down-home-shindig." As soon as we arrive at the frat house to be bused out (the dance was held by a former Centennial student) my friend ran up to me and mid-hug asked me, "Hayley who's your date?" Okay I look over at Philip and then look at Cassondra and while putting this puzzle together I wip out my Hayley charm and seductively comment, "Well Philip is, but actually he's quite the pimp because he scored TWO dates to this dance!" Philip just smiles and admits that yes, he is the shit. (Pardon my words, but this is all factual) Needless to say I feel like a jerk for the rest of the night and I'm thinking he thinks I'm probably the biggest retard ever.
But of course this story can't be over. I get a phone call from him last Friday and he asks me out again. Well sort of. Boys must assume that when they say "hang out" in casual conversation that I need to know that it's just me and him. Well now I'm catching on to his limited dating lingo. Well, a long time ago when I told him that me and my friends love to go stargazing he tells me that it is stupid. I have faught with him about this numerous times. Anyway so when I ask him what he wants to do he tells me....STARGAZING!!! Oh my word! I freak out here. The problem with Philip is that he is against chick flicks and thinks that only the govenor of California should star in movies (as if anyone really wants to watch Terminator 2 or whatever.) Other than a couple other quirks he is a super cool kid. Of course that's not good enough or something because I just can't bring myself to like him for more than a friend. So back to the topic, he told me that he wanted to take me to an observatory on Saturday night to actually LOOK at the stars.
Well the date didn't end up happening because he didn't call me back (oops!) but as you can see, lately my dating skills have been a bit out of wack.
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