When my sister Ellie was in college, she did this ministry called Clubhouse, where every Thursday afternoon they'd pick up a bunch of little kids (children of immigrants and refugees) from their apartments and take them to a church and hang out with them. They just played games and ate snacks and "built relationships" and then they took them home again. They needed to drive the college vans since it's a college ministry. At the time, she had her mini-van license, because it was just a written test. Unfortunately, they sometimes had more kids then will fit in the mini-vans, so she went to take the driving test to get a permit for the 15- passenger vans. Here it is, in her own words...
To start off, he gets there twenty minutes late, without a word of apology. Not one word. At this point, though, I was still under the impression that he was a nice guy. So, I give him the benefit of the doubt, and say, "Nice to meet you." If I had only held my tongue for fifteen minutes I could have saved myself from such a blatant lie. It was not nice, in the least bit, to meet him. Anyway, he says, "Hi Emily." OK, that's forgivable.
I just play along. Then he looks at the sheet with my name on it (Elizabeth Tschamler), and he says, "Wait - this isn't you."
And I say, "Ummm . . . yes it is."
And he says, "No it's not - this is wrong."
And I say, "Yes, that's me."
And he says, "I'll show you what I have down." He goes and gets his little notebook and shows me that he has "Ellie Chandler" written down.
I laugh casually and say, "Oh, Ellie is a nickname for Elizabeth, and Chandler is Tschamler spelled wrong." Woah - should not have said that one. Didn't mean to offend the man. He muttered, "Whatever" and handed me the key.
So, I start heading out the door to the van. "Where do you think you're going? We're not done here."
"Sorry - I didn't know."
So then he gave me this spiel about how we have to pick the keys up before 4:30, yadda yadda yadda. So finally I head out to the van and I unlock my side and as I'm halfway in, he says something from his side, but I can't hear him because I'm already in, so I reach over and open his door for him. "Fine, DON'T use the automatic locks." Woah dude . . . my bad. He gives me some more spiel, all the while grumbling about how inconsiderate people are. Then he says, "OK, drive up the hill and turn left."
"What hill?" I ask innocently.
"The one right here," he responded rudely, as if I were the most ignorant person he had ever met in his life. So I drive up the hill (which was really just the little spout to the Auto Shop) and we drive along for a while, and he sits there scrutinizing my every move. Talk about an uncomfortable situation.
So the test is going along fine, when he says, "What's the speed limit here?"
"30 miles per hour," I respond, proud that I know the correct speed.
"How fast are you going?" he inquires accusingly, even though he already knew the answer.
"35 miles per hour," I answer sheepishly.
"That's a warning. One more and we're done."
Driving . . . driving . . . "You have failed. Go back to the Auto Shop."
"Woah, what? What did I do?"
"You failed to slow down through the school zone when kids are present.
We're done," he declared, without a hint of sympathy. I saw the zone, but I didn't even see the school, much less children present. Something told me to keep this to myself though. OK, I'm thinking, THIS SUCKS. "Take a left at this light." I get into the left lane, being careful to check my mirrors and my blind spot. I don't know why, now that I think about it. I should have just gone crazy on him.
Anyway, I pull out into the intersection and wait for a break in traffic to turn left. Once again, a bad move. There is no break, even on the yellow, so I have to wait until it's red and quite obviously run a red light. On my driver's test. Well, there's two automatic fails. What else could I do? He didn't comment about the red light, however . . . not yet.
So I keep driving along, knowing that he's about to bust out in a big ole lecture, when he says, "This isn't a right, you know, it's a priveledge. We don't have to offer these vehicles to you." Driving . . . driving. So there's this delivery truck parked on the side of the road (where there's no parking lane). It's a calm road, so I gently guide the van into the other lane to get around it. Driving . . . driving. "You know, I don't know if I'll EVER give you a van permit," he declared.
By this time I had learned that we were NOT going to reach an understanding, so I milked it: "WHAT DID I DO NOW?" I growled, reaching my wit's end. I really had no idea what I did wrong.
"What if that other car hadn't pulled to the side of the road?" There wasn't even a car. OK, no, that's a lie . . . there WAS a car, like two stinkin' blocks away! And it DIDN'T pull to the side of the road. Once again, I chose to keep my disdainful thoughts to myself, but I rolled my eyes QUITE obviously in his direction. "I don't have to let you drive this van. I thought you would have at least slowed down, but no. You decided to play chicken. Well let me tell you something: if you want to play chicken, don't do it with me or any other students in the van. As a matter of fact, don't do it in the college van at all!" He was red faced and screaming. His vein was popping out in his neck, and I thought he might keel over right then and there.
So, I drove us back to the Auto Shop in silence, and when we got back, he said, "You can retake the test in thirty days. See you then."
FAT CHANCE, I thought. FAT CHANCE.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Ode to my Waterpik shower head.
Lucious downpour of hot water galore
Like a tropical monsoon on my head.
I now rush to begin my morning routine,
where before it always filled me with dread.
It began in a hotel in downtown Madrid.
where everything was modern and new.
The bathroom was by far the funkiest room,
the decor as though from 2022.
We had to arise at the buttcrack of dawn,
our flight so as not to miss.
And though when we awoke, we wanted to die,
the rainfall-like shower was such sweet bliss!
From that moment on, my shower "bar" raised,
I vowed it would never be the same.
The regular shower head and it's piddly spray
seemed from that moment on totally lame.
A few weeks later at a local store,
while in the home furnishings aisle,
my eyes beheld, and I impusively bought,
the Waterpik, wearing the world's largest smile.
Oh lucious downpour of hot water galore
Like a tropical monsoon on my head.
I now rush to begin my morning routine,
where before it always filled me with dread.
(Inspired by my newly acquired WaterPik rainfall shower head.)
Like a tropical monsoon on my head.
I now rush to begin my morning routine,
where before it always filled me with dread.
It began in a hotel in downtown Madrid.
where everything was modern and new.
The bathroom was by far the funkiest room,
the decor as though from 2022.
We had to arise at the buttcrack of dawn,
our flight so as not to miss.
And though when we awoke, we wanted to die,
the rainfall-like shower was such sweet bliss!
From that moment on, my shower "bar" raised,
I vowed it would never be the same.
The regular shower head and it's piddly spray
seemed from that moment on totally lame.
A few weeks later at a local store,
while in the home furnishings aisle,
my eyes beheld, and I impusively bought,
the Waterpik, wearing the world's largest smile.
Oh lucious downpour of hot water galore
Like a tropical monsoon on my head.
I now rush to begin my morning routine,
where before it always filled me with dread.
(Inspired by my newly acquired WaterPik rainfall shower head.)
Friday, January 12, 2007
The Brownie Smear
Since my sister Ellie has too much of a social life to post to this blog, I will do the honors for her. This is from an email she sent me a couple years ago. Warning: Before reading, make sure you've gone to the bathroom first.
This is it: the unabridged, uncensored account of last Thursday night's entertainment, which we have affectionately christened as "The Brownie Smear". (Forgive me for my childish behavior - you must understand that one is forced to create his/her own fun when he/she is stuck on campus without a car - we definitely have gotten creative :) So here we go . . .
Last weekend, me, and my suitemate Juleen, and our friend Erica from down the hall, all decided to go on a grand adventure. So on Saturday morning, we packed our bags with a few necessities, namely maps of downtown Chicago, cameras, and rape whistles, and headed off for the train station, which is about a twenty minute walk from campus. After boarding the right train (much to our surprise and relief), we made it to Union Station, where we disembarked, and began our struggle to survive. We spent the entire day being tourists, which is an entirely different story in itself, but included taking lots of cheesy photos, getting lost, visiting the Art Institute of Chicago, and, of course, taking a detour to the Ghiradelli Chocolate Shop. So after eating dinner at the McDonald's (yes, we are truly cheap Americans) in the train station, we boarded (once again, to our delight) the right train, and headed for home, looking forward to the safety and comfort of our soft, cozy beds.
Well, on the ride home, which is about an hour, we met a weirdo, which really isn't a surprise when you're taking advantage of the Chicago Metra System, and made friends with him. He happened to be reading an issue of The Onion, and when he was finished, he let us read it. As we were flipping through the pages, a little ad in the corner caught my eye. It was an ad for a product called ColonBlow, and it's advertising slogan was, "You don't eat like a sissy...why clean your colon like one?" And on the bottom it said colonblow.com, and then in little tiny writing it proudly proclaimed that "poopin' is cool". Well, naturally I busted up laughing, because I think it's really funny, but perhaps that's just me. So I cut it out of the newspaper, and I have put a nice little red border around it, and it now graces our bathroom mirror.
*Note: our dorm is set up in suites, so me and my roommate Greta's room is attached to a bathroom, which is attached to Juleen and her roommate Courtney's room. So all four of us share the bathroom, as well as the bathroom mirror.
So Juleen and I just left our little decoration up there for all to enjoy, and one must remember that this is a Christian school, so many people (including my roomie and Juleen's roomie) were homeschoolers, and as such, possess pure, innocent minds. We waited in anticipation for the reactions of our respective roommates, and we were not disappointed - it was hysterical. They were appalled, not to mention disgusted, and we just laughed . . . life in the real world, girls.
So what does any of this have to do with a Brownie Smear, you might ask. Well, let me tell you: Erica's mother sent her a box of just-add-water brownie mix. Yesterday was a crisp, autumnish day - the perfect day to bake, so we decided to try our hands in the kitchen. Once again, it was me and Juleen and Erica involved, and we made the world's best just-add-water brownies. We cooked them, but as they were cooking, we got impatient, and decided that ten minutes was enough, even though the box suggested thirty. So we took them out, got our spoons, and indulged. As you may have already guessed, about half-way through the pan, we all started moaning and holding our stomachs, so rather than eat ourselves sick(er), we started thinking of other creative things to do with the brownies. Now these were not your ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill type just-add-water brownies. Oh no - these had mini Hershey's kisses in them, and being hardly cooked, they were the gooiest brownies you ever did see.
After much laughter, and false barfing alarms, we decided on a plan of action for our brownies. Remember the ad on our mirror, poopin' is cool? Oh yes - I'm sure you already know the end of this one . . .
We took the brownie goo back to our room, and made a nice, big, chunky smear on the mirror, right next to the ad. We also left a few traces in strategic locations around the bathroom, namely the faucet, the soap bar, and the toilet paper holder. We looked around at our handiwork, and were utterly disgusted - it looked so convincingly real. A round of high-fives followed, and once again, we waited in quiet anticipation for the return of our unsuspecting roommates. Courtney walked in, as we tried to act casual, snickering to ourselves, and flashing mischevious glances in the direction of the others. Courtney exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, I have to pee so bad!" YES!
Step number one complete - she headed toward the bathroom. Silence. And then we heard it . . . the sound we had been waiting for all afternoon . . . "SICK! WHAT IS THE DISGUSTING BLOB ON OUR MIRROR??!? Ahhhhh . . . victory was ours. And it was sweet, sweet victory. We all had a good laugh at that one, and then went to bed.
This is it: the unabridged, uncensored account of last Thursday night's entertainment, which we have affectionately christened as "The Brownie Smear". (Forgive me for my childish behavior - you must understand that one is forced to create his/her own fun when he/she is stuck on campus without a car - we definitely have gotten creative :) So here we go . . .
Last weekend, me, and my suitemate Juleen, and our friend Erica from down the hall, all decided to go on a grand adventure. So on Saturday morning, we packed our bags with a few necessities, namely maps of downtown Chicago, cameras, and rape whistles, and headed off for the train station, which is about a twenty minute walk from campus. After boarding the right train (much to our surprise and relief), we made it to Union Station, where we disembarked, and began our struggle to survive. We spent the entire day being tourists, which is an entirely different story in itself, but included taking lots of cheesy photos, getting lost, visiting the Art Institute of Chicago, and, of course, taking a detour to the Ghiradelli Chocolate Shop. So after eating dinner at the McDonald's (yes, we are truly cheap Americans) in the train station, we boarded (once again, to our delight) the right train, and headed for home, looking forward to the safety and comfort of our soft, cozy beds.
Well, on the ride home, which is about an hour, we met a weirdo, which really isn't a surprise when you're taking advantage of the Chicago Metra System, and made friends with him. He happened to be reading an issue of The Onion, and when he was finished, he let us read it. As we were flipping through the pages, a little ad in the corner caught my eye. It was an ad for a product called ColonBlow, and it's advertising slogan was, "You don't eat like a sissy...why clean your colon like one?" And on the bottom it said colonblow.com, and then in little tiny writing it proudly proclaimed that "poopin' is cool". Well, naturally I busted up laughing, because I think it's really funny, but perhaps that's just me. So I cut it out of the newspaper, and I have put a nice little red border around it, and it now graces our bathroom mirror.
*Note: our dorm is set up in suites, so me and my roommate Greta's room is attached to a bathroom, which is attached to Juleen and her roommate Courtney's room. So all four of us share the bathroom, as well as the bathroom mirror.
So Juleen and I just left our little decoration up there for all to enjoy, and one must remember that this is a Christian school, so many people (including my roomie and Juleen's roomie) were homeschoolers, and as such, possess pure, innocent minds. We waited in anticipation for the reactions of our respective roommates, and we were not disappointed - it was hysterical. They were appalled, not to mention disgusted, and we just laughed . . . life in the real world, girls.
So what does any of this have to do with a Brownie Smear, you might ask. Well, let me tell you: Erica's mother sent her a box of just-add-water brownie mix. Yesterday was a crisp, autumnish day - the perfect day to bake, so we decided to try our hands in the kitchen. Once again, it was me and Juleen and Erica involved, and we made the world's best just-add-water brownies. We cooked them, but as they were cooking, we got impatient, and decided that ten minutes was enough, even though the box suggested thirty. So we took them out, got our spoons, and indulged. As you may have already guessed, about half-way through the pan, we all started moaning and holding our stomachs, so rather than eat ourselves sick(er), we started thinking of other creative things to do with the brownies. Now these were not your ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill type just-add-water brownies. Oh no - these had mini Hershey's kisses in them, and being hardly cooked, they were the gooiest brownies you ever did see.
After much laughter, and false barfing alarms, we decided on a plan of action for our brownies. Remember the ad on our mirror, poopin' is cool? Oh yes - I'm sure you already know the end of this one . . .
We took the brownie goo back to our room, and made a nice, big, chunky smear on the mirror, right next to the ad. We also left a few traces in strategic locations around the bathroom, namely the faucet, the soap bar, and the toilet paper holder. We looked around at our handiwork, and were utterly disgusted - it looked so convincingly real. A round of high-fives followed, and once again, we waited in quiet anticipation for the return of our unsuspecting roommates. Courtney walked in, as we tried to act casual, snickering to ourselves, and flashing mischevious glances in the direction of the others. Courtney exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, I have to pee so bad!" YES!
Step number one complete - she headed toward the bathroom. Silence. And then we heard it . . . the sound we had been waiting for all afternoon . . . "SICK! WHAT IS THE DISGUSTING BLOB ON OUR MIRROR??!? Ahhhhh . . . victory was ours. And it was sweet, sweet victory. We all had a good laugh at that one, and then went to bed.
It's a brown world, isn't it?
A while back becky did a 'photo shoot' for a client [ok so she was my little sister-in-law, but that still counts]. Anyway, my wife and I were there. So Becky took a few shots of us too. She's pretty darn good don't you think? [[ok, so it doesn't hurt that her subjects are gorgeous]]
Below is the 'real' subject of the photo shoot [the aforementioned client], Miss Brionna B.
As you can see, it was a brown day all around. Then again—it's a brown world, isn't it?
Monday, January 08, 2007
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Watch out, Martha Stewart!
My friend Wendy and I recently embarked on a new adventure. The idea is to get together once a month and cook something new. That way we both get to practice our gourmet cooking skills, plus we have a great meal and great company! So last night was our first try.
Meal #1: Crabcakes
Blueberry Walnut Salad
Red wine from Boulder
Verdict: A+
Notes: Delicious!! Meal #1 was a grand success despite a rather funny incident involving a little preemptive wine drinking and a misjudged oven rack.I can't wait until February!
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