Let the Romance Begin!

Today I had to run by the library at my school to get some resources for a project.  As I was walking in I noticed a man standing next to the entrance talking on his phone with an accent, which I appreciated because apparently everyone else is just talking on their phone in the library these days.  After I went in I had to do some research before I got my books, so I stopped by the computers first.  While I was sitting there the man from outside walked up and sat at the computer next to me, so I smiled at him, finished my work and went in search for my books.

As I was checking out my books the man with the accented voice came up behind me and said:  “I thought you’d already left.”

I was a little surprised because he was talking to me as if we had carried on a conversation before and I barely recognized him, but I told him that I was on my way out, to which he responded: “Well, I wanted to have a chat with you before you leave.”

Now, I wasn’t standing in front of a mirror, but you can bet that I had a bewildered expression on my face as I answered: “Ok.  What’s up?”  The man said I could finish checking out and that he would just wait outside for me to have our chat.

When the little girl checking out my books came back I wanted, with all my heart, to tell her that if I was reported missing to please let my parents know that I love them (Don’t you love how quickly I took that to the worst possible scenario??).  But I didn’t do that.  Instead, I begrudgingly walked outside to meet him.

Let’s just pause here for my to describe this fellow.  If I had to guess he was probably about 35+, of African descent with an accent and he was a little short.  Because if a man wants to talk to me, you can bet good money he isn’t gonna be a Justin Timberlake stand-in.  (I’m just kidding, looks aren’t as important to me as a man who understands the boundaries of commonly-accepted social behavior.)

Pretty much this gentleman, whose name is George, had a feeling that he was supposed to come talk to me.  After he found out that I went to DBU he said that “God told me to come chat with you.”

George was very inquisitive, he asked me where I lived, where I did my undergrad, what I was studying, if I lived with my parents, if I was a native Texan, and if I had ever had to take a New Testament class, among other things.  I learned a few things about George too.  He is originally from Cameroon, but grew up in Germany.  He just moved to Texas from Mary-land (his pronunciation) and lives near Denton.

Finally George said “I would love for us to meet again sometime.”  Too which, I thought, we’ve barely met the first time…

And then George asked for my phone number.  I was very flustered but then he said “or I can give you mine, or we can both trade numbers”.  And I had found my out. 

I quickly lied through my teeth and told George that I was having phone troubles.  I think I said something along the lines of “due to billing issues” (Clearly, I’m gifted with the tall-tale).  And got George’s number.

He said he was very concerned that I would forget to call him and he would really love to meet with me again and if I would let him then he would like to pick me up.  He said over and over again “Please don’t forget.”

Oh, George, how I wish I COULD forget.

Because I Got Nothin’ Else…

Well, I figured it was time to enter my bi-monthly post.  I’ve been falling down on the job lately, as a blogger, and I’d like to apologize to the one of your who occasionally happens to read my blog.  You deserve better and I’m going to try and give it to you…

 

So, since nothing celebrates your Freedom more than a little craft project, I thought I’d show you something that I have been working on lately. 

I purchased this frame on sale a few months ago at Garden Ridge.  I love unusual frames and thought the circular shape and the carvings around the edges were great!  I inserted a piece of scrapbook paper I got from Hobby Lobby and I thought it was wonderful, but the frame was a little too dark, and a lot of the cool details were fading into the background.

So, I made a massive mistake.  I decided to paint it, since that is my solution to everything.  I thought it would really compliment the paper in the middle if it was a beautiful pale pink.  Unfortunately, pale pink, quickly turned into nightmarish pepto pink with, what was supposed to be a metallic accent color.

Obviously, it couldn’t stay like this, so… TA DA!!

 

 

Much improved.

 

P.S. I want to send a special shout-out to those who serve to protect our freedoms.  Especially my favorite Marine family: Daniel and Katy.  Thanks for all the sacrifices you guys make.  I love you both.

Putting the Ghetto in Ghettofabulous

They say that bad things happen in three’s.  Let’s all hope, for the sake of humanity, that it’s the truth.  You see, my home is falling apart and if anything else goes wrong my life may start falling apart too. 

It all began last week when I returned from my camping trip (pictures and stories pending) I noticed that my apartment was a little warm.  So I called my apartment complex to have them come and fix it up.  On a side note, don’t you love it when people give you completely ridiculous fixes for a problem?  In this instance, the lady said that maybe I should just flip the breaker and that would be the end of it.  Ok, lady.  While I appreciate your quick thinking and expertise on the subject…. It’s June.  In Texas.  I’m not risking ANYTHING when it comes to my AC.

Of course the guy gets here and tries to flip my breakers to no avail.  Come to find out all the wires in my attic had burned out and they wouldn’t be able to fix it till the next morning.  At which time I quickly turned tail and headed for the hills of Sherman and the air conditioned comfort of my parents’ house.  All of this was done on the assurance that my AC would be fixed first thing the next morning.

After spending the weekend in Sherman I came back Monday afternoon and discovered that I had entered an apartment which could give the seventh layer of hell a run for its money when it comes to heat.  It was over 90 degrees in my home.  Of course, you better believe I called that man right back and told him to hightail it over to my casa.

He finally showed up around 4:30 and said he had fixed it last week, but apparently the outside wires were shorting out the inside wires and they wouldn’t be able to fix it until the next morning.  This is the moment when I began to fear for my sanity…. and for his life.

Luckily, he came up with this classy solution:

(Pay no attention to all the dust and debris surrounding the window.  I’m positive that the maintenance men somehow managed to drag all that junk in with them.)

He borrowed a little window unit from another building and installed it for me.  Luckily this helped me make it through the night.  Although, I couldn’t move further than 10 feet away from the window unit at any point in the night.

By the time I got home from work the next day the AC was fixed.  Hallelujah!!

As I went to bed that night I managed to break my toilet.  It completely lost its flushing capabilities.  I’m really on a streak.

And if I EVER see that repair man again, it’ll be too soon.

Zack Attack

You can ask anyone who knew me from the ages of 6-12 and they will tell you that I had one obsession. That obsession was: Saved By The Bell. I think I've seen every episode of the series including the ones with Miss Bliss. So, you can probably guess how delighted I was when I heard that Jimmy Fallon is trying to orchestrate a cast reunion.

Today I saw this little gem and I was almost giddy about it. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did.

P.S. At about 6:07 he makes my joy complete:

Adding Insult To Injury

I was recently hit in a car accident and was injured. So, as a way of apologizing for my trouble the insurance company of the other driver sent me a check. The lady asked me some questions about my life and then sent me the check. You can imagine my surprise when this came in the mail:

It says (and I quote): "Pay to the order of: Crystal Chamberlain a single female"

Ouch. Is it just me, or was that completely unnecessary?

Whistle Blower

I was walking across the street today all dressed up for a singing gig and I got whistled at (in a good way). That has happened to me approximately none times before.

So just put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Also, this weekend I have a jam packed schedule and will soon return with lots of newsy news. Plus, maybe even a few pictures.

All of this depends on whether or not my computer decides to stop being stupid and work. I'm probably going to have to call a repair man. Which always has catastrophic results (for instance, the fort debacle of '06 comes to mind) but that's a story for another day.

"Let Me Just Tell You Something"

I'll just be honest and tell you that drunk people typically get on my nerves.

I'm not much of a drinker myself so I've never seen the thrill. Plus, being totally out of control of the things I say and do just sounds like a normal Thursday to me, so I don't really need to turn to The Drink.

But, there is one thing that always kills me when I'm around drunk people and it is this tiny little phrase: "Let me just tell you something".

"Hey!.... You know what??" is good too, but nothing gets me quite like someone slurring the phrase: "Let me just tell you something."

Since I moved to Denton my exposure to drunk people has increased exponentially, which has surprised no one more than me. I'm not really sure how a person can come out of the movies drunk, but in Denton- all things are possible. This could be a result of the two colleges here, but I think there must be some special magic here.

It really doesn't matter what I am doing, whenever I hear a person who is clearly intoxicated speaking these words my ears perk up like a kid listening for the ice cream truck. Recently, I was out with some friends when I heard those magic words. Did I mention we were in the lobby of the movie theater? That little phrase found its way to me, over the buzz of the crowd, due to the liquid courage a young lady had just downed.

And let me just tell you something.... it was music to my ears.