It's day two of Blogiversary Week, which means another post! Yes I realize it is like seven pm and almost day three as I am writing this but I couldn't do it any earlier as I had to attend a work conference on the subject of New Tax Laws all day.
And to make things worse one of the men running this conference was the guy that turned a five hour meeting into a nine hour meeting in January. When I walked in and saw him it took every fiber of my being not to turn around and walk out and then call my boss and tell him I couldn't attend the conference because I had broken my spleen or something.
Two hours into the conference, while I was listening to someone wax poetic about straight-line depreciation, I realized that my boss had sent me to this conference in his place and that he probably did it because he knew who was speaking. So I sent him a text.
In exchange for the horrible thing you have done to me this day, I am now allowed to use the word monkey all the days of the week again and wear my flippie floppies in the office.
(Remember when he told me I could only use the word monkey on Fridays?)
His response contained only one word.
So yeah he totally did it on purpose. I forgave him though because lunch was really good. I ate twelve to fourteen small balls of fresh mozzarella cheese and a rice krispie treat that was the size of a brick and my have been two rice kris pie treats stuck together in retrospect.
So yeah, that's why I couldn't post until now.
Today I am going to tell you a story about this girl.
|Thanks Mom for telling me my eyebrows looked "about the same size" after you plucked them for me the night before pictures in seventh grade. They were not the same size AT ALL.|
Lauren: The Pirate Year
Growing up, I played softball. I played A LOT of softball. I was always on a community team as well as a traveling All-Stars team. I loved it. Until seventh grade.
It was a beautiful really sunny spring day and I had all-star practice. The practice was being held at the local high school which is really close to my parents' house, so I strapped on my roller blades, grabbed my bat bag and portable cd player and hit the road, the soothing tones of Green Day in my ears.
This practice started out like any normal practice. We were rotating positions and letting each girl have batting practice. I got to short stop just as the very best player on the team stepped up to the base. Did I mention it was a really sunny day? I heard the crack of the bat then someone yell "Catch It!" and then I was on the ground surrounded by my coach and all of my teammates.
I had gotten hit in the face with the ball. I had gotten knocked out. My coach took one look at my face, swore, then scooped me up and ran me to his car.
He drove me home. My dad opened the front door and took one look at my face and swore.
He made me lay on the couch and for some reason put a brown bag full of sliced potatoes on my face. This still confuses me. Why not ice Dad?
He called the hair salon where my mom was with my sister and told her to come home immediately.
She took one look at my face and swore.
We rushed off to Urgent Care where it turned out I had luckily not broken any face bones or exploded any eyeballs. I did have, however, the worst black eye that the doctor had ever seen. He was astounded that nothing had cracked in half.
When we got home I looked in a mirror for the first time. I had one massively black eye and cheek and nose. That eye was completely swollen shut and as it turns out, would stay like that for almost four weeks. The other eye was also massively black, but was still doing the seeing thing ok.
Seventh grade had not yet ended so early the next week I was off to school. Wearing a black eyepatch. For one day everyone was all concerned and nice to me. Then the pirate jokes started.
My favorite may have been:
What do pimps and pirates have in common?
They both say "Yo Ho" and walk with a limp.
What is a pirate's worst fear?
A sunken chest with no booty.
I also just got a lot of
Aaarrrrggh Mateys and Shiver Me Timbers
The pirate jokes were fine though, I played along.
The worst was when I finally got to take the eyepatch off because my eye had healed enough for me to be able to open it except.....I couldn't.
Well I could. If I thought about it. But I had just spent four weeks with one of my eyes permanently closed and my brain had decided that closed was that eye's default position.
And I usually didn't even notice it.
My mom was constantly like "You are walking around this grocery store with one eye closed again Lauren."
And one of my best friends started calling me 'Ol One Eye.
It took a LONG time before I learned to keep both my eyes open when I was not sleeping.
It was a very awkward summer. Which was not even a little bit fair, because I was plenty awkward to begin with already.
|Like seriously? This girl does not need an eyepatch. Give it to one of the pretty popular girls.|
|My sister and I were not great friends growing up. I wonder why.|
|Yep we are the same age. Lauren didn't like makeup, she liked books. Which also explains the pasty skin.|
That's all for today (sorry it wasn't that funny!) but I'll hit you up again tomorrow! Tomorrow is very exciting too because....
|OJ is coming to town!!!|