Remember...

[I should be studying]

One weekend over the summer I was at my best friend's house with my mom and sister ; her dad and brother were also present. To outside observers, this should seem weird, but for us it is not. [side note]

This past summer I took a couple of classes in Athens and my "bff" was filling me in on the latest small-town gossip. This summer in particular, it seemed like there were a lot of pregnancies from couples that we knew. Both of our parents were super young when they got married and had us and we were chatting about what it would be like to have a kid right now.

Apparently, this scared her father. Now, her dad is...how do I say this?...a little rough around the edges. He acts all tough with us (he thinks my sister and I are two of his own) and tries to keep us on a straight line. Despite his gruff nature, we normally break him down pretty easy. I have personally been known to make him blush.

Anyways: Because my own dad was not there, I guess he decided to take on the arduous task of giving us three girls a quick run down on the "birds and the bees." Yeah, you read it correctly. 19, 19, and 21 years old...our moms pretty much covered all that, but this was no ordinary talk.

This talk happened to be around the same time we were learning about the male and female reproductive systems in BIO 1103 and I decided to share a few stats that a guy in my class shared with me. Hot tubs, killing sperm. Very strange. Very wrong. Very scary that he believed these tall-tales.

Her dad was scared.

At one point we were all talking and the next thing I know, I see his hand make this strange, snake-like motion from across the room. "The swimmies can still swim." The room went silent. Then he began to elaborate...I guess he noticed the confused looks on our faces. "The swimmies will find their way. They will still swim." Was he referring to the hot tub story? Why does he keep moving his hand that way? All of these internal questions had me glancing around at the other females in the room for some sign of what to say next. It was all too strange from a man that accuses us of unlady-like behavior when we say "hell".

Not to mention, my best friend's younger brother was in the room and is in full-puberty mode. After this conversation, I sure hope his mom does not expect grandchildren.

Finally, my sister, who had been quiet through most of this process speaks up: "Can you please stop with the hand." At that point we could no longer hold in the awkwardness the conversation.

His attempt to showcase that he cared about our conversation, lives, and the decisions we make was completely overshadowed by that one solitary hand motion...and the fact that he was listening in on our gossip.

Now, it is an inside joke about "swimmies"; we never fail to use that hand motion.

Bus Stop?

This is what I saw while sitting at the bus stop. No other words are necessary.

It is a wild ride

A few weeks ago my life had become so consumed with studying, Spanish, projects, Spanish, and on and on until I thought I was going to go crazy (kind of like right now). Luckily, a "carnival" came to UGA via my beloved Student Union. This was the perfect opportunity to unwind and really let the stress go, if only for one short night. A few of my girl friends ventured with me: see above image.

This "carnival" consisted of three rides--two of which I had never been on--and some junk food stands that fried Oreos. The first ride was a complete success and I only got a mild case of the sea-sickness that I normally encounter at events such as this. (I can get car sick driving myself.) While we were standing in line, we caught up with some friends from last year and basically chilled until the nice carni man set us up with our own four-seat bucket on the ride. The Ride: when you sit in the bucket and turn the wheel, and then the whole thing spins... I have no idea what this is called. Anyway...success.

With our wind-blown hair and scratched voices, my two friends and I headed to the next line. This one was even longer than the first, but some nice gentlemen let us cut in front of them and we were on the ride in no time.

Here is some information that I forgot to mention. The second ride was the Pirate Ship one that goes back and forth in the air; being a Union member, I knew this one was coming. I asked a family friend if I would be okay, considering the fact that I had never tried this one before. Her response was, "Of course, just don't get on it if it has an over-the-lap harness." Okay, no big deal.

About the time that me and my two girlfriends got to the loading zone, I noticed that this ride did indeed have over-the-lap harnesses. But, because of the supreme success I had had on the first ride, I was going for it. Big mistake.

Not only did this new carni man split up my friends and I, but he also STOPPED the ride after it had started going and had people switch around because of a weight imbalance. Was this necessary? That's when I started to get nervous. As he started the ride back up again, I thought to myself, "grow a pair." Two minutes later, they were stolen away and given to the boy beside me.

I remember when I was little and my sister and I would try to swing higher than each other on the rickety backyard swing that was at our house. This thing was made out of some sort of aluminum, it felt like, and about the time we got to going really good, the dang thing would HOP up and lifted off the earth. Our butts would lift off the seat at precisely the same moment. Then, of course, my mom would tell us to slow down and keep the legs on the ground. On this ride, my mom was not there.

I felt like we had been riding for  10 minutes when we started to speed up and get higher in the air. That's when my butt, just like when I was little, began to lift off the seat. This is when I remembered the "no over the lap harness" rule and I could SEE WHY!

Thank goodness for the brown boy sitting next to me on this said ride. Before the ride I slid in and noticed that he seemed a bit nervous too, but he was a boy...he would survive. The odor the surrounded this lovely young man told me that he had been there way longer than I had, but I was not judging. When my butt lifted off that seat the first time, I made friends with this boy REAL quick. "I don't know you..." but I grabbed his arm and dug my skull into his skinny shoulder (odor not noticed). He quickly said, "It is okay! I won't let go." An image of Titanic surfaced in my mind and then my butt lifted off the seat again. Then a few foul, four letter words slipped out and I could feel the queasiness rise to my throat. Thank goodness for the little brown boy. That stranger helped me though possibly one of the worst experiences of my life. I owe him...though I don't remember his face. My eyes were closed.