All right so counteract all my emo-ness from the previous post i wanted to share with all of you my story from Christmas break.
the day after the fight with my parents(check out the previous post) i left their house and made my way back up to my tiny university. however there was still two weeks left of break. and i realized i had no where to go. now yes, i could have stayed at my sisters house(she lives in the same town as my school), but she just had a kid. at this time we were still waiting for my nephew to come into the world and if any of you have tried preparing the house for a kid, you know that mom goes through this thing call nesting. my sister had the house in pieces getting the nursery ready(we have a really small house.) the only place i could sleep was the couch and that had been moved into the computer room. there was literally no place for me to be without being in the way. so i decided to move back into my apartment at school.
now my university closes the campus during Christmas breaks and the students are not allowed in the housing while campus is closed. so yes, i was breaking the rules. i'm going to apologize now to my RA and RD. i'm sorry.
well now that i'm moved back into what has become home and all comfy i realize i'm kinda hungry. but i wasnt planning on being on my own the last two weeks. i hadnt worked so i had no money and even though i had already arranged for some hours at my job i wasnt going to get paid until the week school started back up. i literally had NO money and i had NO food in the apartment. actually i take that back. i had a jar of jelly. mmmm jelly.
i ran over to my sister's house because i remembered she had a numerous amount of pizza rolls in her freezer. see, my sister is a research chemist for a food oil company. at her job she works with a lot of different food companies testing oils and other things i honestly dont understand. she often gets to bring some of her work home. we've had pie crusts, onion rings, oreos, all kinds of stuff. last months work: pizza rolls. so i snagged a few bags of pizza rolls and proceeded to eat 10 pizza rolls a day for the next two weeks. good thing i like pizza rolls.
the second to last night i was getting tired of my tasty pockets of fake italian. so i rummaged around what food my roommates had in the pantry. i found a bag of pretzels that was nothing more than crumbs. i mixed those crumbs with the jelly i had in the fridge and had the most wonderful dinner of all time.
after those two weeks the food service at school tasted soooooo good.
that all for tonight. sweet dreams everyone
-erl
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
how i lost a subway sandwich
Ok so, its been like, FOREVER since i've done anything on here. i know, i know. please forgive me. I am going to try and take time to do some more, i promise. i've found i kinda like the whole writing out how i feel thing. right now my social work roommate is clapping her hands and saying that everyone would also benefit from counseling as well... anyway i digress.
i have one awesome story. this one hasnt really been named yet, but i think i'll start calling it the 'when i lot my subway sandwich' story. that sounds....lame, but memorable.
This last weekend was winter break for my tiny university so a few of my nursing major friends and i decide to go to a friends house. good times are had by all. but thats not teh point of this story.
driving home, we hit a small snow storm and have a few near misses with truckers who think they are auditioning for that one ice truckers show. all in all the drive is nerve racking but fun. (how often do you get to drive a giant four wheel drive suburban the size of a bus?) however, still not the point of this story.
on our way home we stop at subway. i purchase a tasty foot long italian BMT on monterrey cheddar bread. we sit down and enjoy our dinner, then get back on the road. i saved half of my sandwich so i can further enjoy it for dinner the next day. my companions and i (finally) get home and i put my sandwich in the fridge to keep it subway fresh.
That next day turns out to be kinda long and a little stressful. all day i look forward to getting home and devouring my delightful italian BMT.
I dont get home until after 9 that night. i shed my winter clothes, put my book bag down, get comfy for the night, open my refrigerator in anticipation AND......my sandwich is gone. I look on every shelf, in every drawer. no sandwich. i close the door, wait a couple seconds, take a breath, and open the door again, still no sandwich.
I ask my roommates 'did you see a sandwich is the fridge today?' none of them had any idea what i was talking about. however one started going on and on about how things seemed to be moved around and her cheese was put on the wrong shelf. to be honest i quit listening to her and tuned her out after that.
Alright, so i know sandwiches dont just get up and walk away. I think about it awhile, retrace my steps from the night before. I know for a fact i put it the fridge before i unpacked my suitcase. i take a look in the freezer and pantry just to be sure. nope, no sandwich. ok if didnt put this god forsaken sub in the fridge then it must be somewhere else no rotting in my apartment. so i look, and the damn thing is no where to be found.
I finally give up my search. i go to throw away some random peice of trash i found and there in my kitchen trash is the wrapper that my lovely italian BMT subway sandwich came in. I dont remember eating the tasty sub so either my roommates lied and ate my sandwich or i ate it while sleep walking. most people would say the former is proly the more logical explanation. but, if you know me, you know nothing in my life is ever that easy.
see, as a kid i would be found in all kinds of places and have no memory of how i got there. (wake up on teh couch or walking outside in the yard kind of stuff) i grew out of it eventually. since i was sixteen i've only (that i know of) gone sleep walking a couple times. once in high school and once my freshmen year of college.
then why do i think i ate my wonderful(now cursed) sandwich in my sleep? well, 1. my roommates had no idea what i was talking about when i asked them about the sandwich, 2. the contents of the fridge had indeed been rearranged and no one know anything about it, 3. the wrapper was in the trash and not surrounding the the sandwich, and 4. my history of night time wondering.
I dont know if it was really me, but the evidence seems to point to unconscious night time snacking. also its better than the idea that there is a hidden sandwich rotting somewhere in my apartment.
so that is the story of me (proly) stealing my own sandwich.
-erl
i have one awesome story. this one hasnt really been named yet, but i think i'll start calling it the 'when i lot my subway sandwich' story. that sounds....lame, but memorable.
This last weekend was winter break for my tiny university so a few of my nursing major friends and i decide to go to a friends house. good times are had by all. but thats not teh point of this story.
driving home, we hit a small snow storm and have a few near misses with truckers who think they are auditioning for that one ice truckers show. all in all the drive is nerve racking but fun. (how often do you get to drive a giant four wheel drive suburban the size of a bus?) however, still not the point of this story.
on our way home we stop at subway. i purchase a tasty foot long italian BMT on monterrey cheddar bread. we sit down and enjoy our dinner, then get back on the road. i saved half of my sandwich so i can further enjoy it for dinner the next day. my companions and i (finally) get home and i put my sandwich in the fridge to keep it subway fresh.
That next day turns out to be kinda long and a little stressful. all day i look forward to getting home and devouring my delightful italian BMT.
I dont get home until after 9 that night. i shed my winter clothes, put my book bag down, get comfy for the night, open my refrigerator in anticipation AND......my sandwich is gone. I look on every shelf, in every drawer. no sandwich. i close the door, wait a couple seconds, take a breath, and open the door again, still no sandwich.
I ask my roommates 'did you see a sandwich is the fridge today?' none of them had any idea what i was talking about. however one started going on and on about how things seemed to be moved around and her cheese was put on the wrong shelf. to be honest i quit listening to her and tuned her out after that.
Alright, so i know sandwiches dont just get up and walk away. I think about it awhile, retrace my steps from the night before. I know for a fact i put it the fridge before i unpacked my suitcase. i take a look in the freezer and pantry just to be sure. nope, no sandwich. ok if didnt put this god forsaken sub in the fridge then it must be somewhere else no rotting in my apartment. so i look, and the damn thing is no where to be found.
I finally give up my search. i go to throw away some random peice of trash i found and there in my kitchen trash is the wrapper that my lovely italian BMT subway sandwich came in. I dont remember eating the tasty sub so either my roommates lied and ate my sandwich or i ate it while sleep walking. most people would say the former is proly the more logical explanation. but, if you know me, you know nothing in my life is ever that easy.
see, as a kid i would be found in all kinds of places and have no memory of how i got there. (wake up on teh couch or walking outside in the yard kind of stuff) i grew out of it eventually. since i was sixteen i've only (that i know of) gone sleep walking a couple times. once in high school and once my freshmen year of college.
then why do i think i ate my wonderful(now cursed) sandwich in my sleep? well, 1. my roommates had no idea what i was talking about when i asked them about the sandwich, 2. the contents of the fridge had indeed been rearranged and no one know anything about it, 3. the wrapper was in the trash and not surrounding the the sandwich, and 4. my history of night time wondering.
I dont know if it was really me, but the evidence seems to point to unconscious night time snacking. also its better than the idea that there is a hidden sandwich rotting somewhere in my apartment.
so that is the story of me (proly) stealing my own sandwich.
-erl
Thursday, June 4, 2009
'the belt story'
one of my most popular stories is about how leaving my belt on floor nearly lost me my foot. keep reading, its a good one.
early fall my junior year of high school, i woke up like every other day, jumped off my top bunk and felt pain like nothing before. i sit on the bottom bunk lift up my foot and my belt comes with it. the prong part that slips in the notch had punctured the bottom of my foot and i could see it pushing up the skin on the top. i must have gone into fight or flight mode, because without thinking i pulled it out. i hoped down the stairs went into my parents bedroom told them 'ummm...mom, dad, i stabbed my self with my belt but i pulled it out and i'm ok. i'm going to go to school now.
i limped around for a few days. and i was fine after that...or so i thought. it would be funny story if i just left off there. but no if i do something outrageous i have to go all the way.
a year later, my senior year of high school, i was on my feet a lot. i was drum major and working at dairy queen nearly full time. it was a crazy busy time. i noticed a bump forming on the bottom of my foot and it hurt more after being on my feet all day. when it started bothering me all the time, i told my mother and we went to the foot doctor. i told him all about the belt and pulling it out. he asked me if it bled when i pulled the belt out. i didnt think anything of it till he said something. a little trivia real quick: if puncture wounds dont bleed, thats BAD. when a wound bleeds the body is flushing out anything that shouldnt be there. if it doesnt bleed the body is a perfect place for whatever to grow and fester. all this to say when i pulled the belt out of my foot, it didnt bleed. the doctor determined that there was a cyst on my foot. we planned surgery and everything was going to ok after that.
i had surgery on a wednessday in feburary. everything went fine and i was to see the doctor the next wednesday for a check up. and if that was the end of the story, it would still be crazy, but its not.
thursday i felt great, i barely needed any pain meds, i was walking around on crutches just fine. friday i felt a little sick, saturday i was in pain but had the darvocet so i was cool. then, on sunday, i felt like i was dying. i was stretching out my pain medication as far as possible. i had a dressing on my foot and was told not to remove it till i saw the doctor. i could only see my toes which were purple, kinda green and i knew something was really, really wrong. i was crying, throwing up, i was in so much pain i could barely think. my father called the emergency line and they said i could losen the wraping around my foot. i did and it hurt more. being the cuirous person i am, i took a look and the insicion. what i saw, it is not describable. the stitches were raised off the bottome of my foot about an inch, the the wound went from being a tiny half and inch insicion to a raised blister, if you will, about three inches long and two inches wide. my foot was colors that dont naturally exist in a human.
we called and made an apointment for monday with the doctor so he could take a look at it. when the nurse saw it, she stop in her tracks and said 'i all my years i've never seen anything like that.' gives a person a lot of confidence right? when the doctor came in his face went pale. he took a look said 'huh...did we put you on antibiotics after surgery?' no, they did not.
he lanced it and all the pain i'd been feeling for the last few days started to be relieved. as he pressed on the wound and examined it, i was torn between extreme pain and total intrest. if it looked bad on the outside, it was nothing compared to the damage on the inside. the dead tissue extended about two inches into my foot. the doctor told me that my foot would take a lot longer to heal than previously estemated. well, duh. he also said my foot may not ever heal completly. but i was also lucky becuase, if the infection had gone any further, i could have very possibly lost my whole foot. and even more awesome, if the infection would have gotten into my blood stream, i could have died. yeah, awesome.
i had to do wet to dry dressings for the next, month and a half. by the way doing your own wet to dry is... well, rough. actually any wet to dry is rough. i dont care who you are. i learn to deal with a lot of pain during the time, lets just say that. still to this day my right foot bothers me after really long days but its nothing to complain about. and i have this cool half inch by inch and half scar where i have no feeling.
all that to say...dont leave your belts lying on floor where you can step on them, or at least look before you leap.
all for now. hope you enjoyed
-erl
early fall my junior year of high school, i woke up like every other day, jumped off my top bunk and felt pain like nothing before. i sit on the bottom bunk lift up my foot and my belt comes with it. the prong part that slips in the notch had punctured the bottom of my foot and i could see it pushing up the skin on the top. i must have gone into fight or flight mode, because without thinking i pulled it out. i hoped down the stairs went into my parents bedroom told them 'ummm...mom, dad, i stabbed my self with my belt but i pulled it out and i'm ok. i'm going to go to school now.
i limped around for a few days. and i was fine after that...or so i thought. it would be funny story if i just left off there. but no if i do something outrageous i have to go all the way.
a year later, my senior year of high school, i was on my feet a lot. i was drum major and working at dairy queen nearly full time. it was a crazy busy time. i noticed a bump forming on the bottom of my foot and it hurt more after being on my feet all day. when it started bothering me all the time, i told my mother and we went to the foot doctor. i told him all about the belt and pulling it out. he asked me if it bled when i pulled the belt out. i didnt think anything of it till he said something. a little trivia real quick: if puncture wounds dont bleed, thats BAD. when a wound bleeds the body is flushing out anything that shouldnt be there. if it doesnt bleed the body is a perfect place for whatever to grow and fester. all this to say when i pulled the belt out of my foot, it didnt bleed. the doctor determined that there was a cyst on my foot. we planned surgery and everything was going to ok after that.
i had surgery on a wednessday in feburary. everything went fine and i was to see the doctor the next wednesday for a check up. and if that was the end of the story, it would still be crazy, but its not.
thursday i felt great, i barely needed any pain meds, i was walking around on crutches just fine. friday i felt a little sick, saturday i was in pain but had the darvocet so i was cool. then, on sunday, i felt like i was dying. i was stretching out my pain medication as far as possible. i had a dressing on my foot and was told not to remove it till i saw the doctor. i could only see my toes which were purple, kinda green and i knew something was really, really wrong. i was crying, throwing up, i was in so much pain i could barely think. my father called the emergency line and they said i could losen the wraping around my foot. i did and it hurt more. being the cuirous person i am, i took a look and the insicion. what i saw, it is not describable. the stitches were raised off the bottome of my foot about an inch, the the wound went from being a tiny half and inch insicion to a raised blister, if you will, about three inches long and two inches wide. my foot was colors that dont naturally exist in a human.
we called and made an apointment for monday with the doctor so he could take a look at it. when the nurse saw it, she stop in her tracks and said 'i all my years i've never seen anything like that.' gives a person a lot of confidence right? when the doctor came in his face went pale. he took a look said 'huh...did we put you on antibiotics after surgery?' no, they did not.
he lanced it and all the pain i'd been feeling for the last few days started to be relieved. as he pressed on the wound and examined it, i was torn between extreme pain and total intrest. if it looked bad on the outside, it was nothing compared to the damage on the inside. the dead tissue extended about two inches into my foot. the doctor told me that my foot would take a lot longer to heal than previously estemated. well, duh. he also said my foot may not ever heal completly. but i was also lucky becuase, if the infection had gone any further, i could have very possibly lost my whole foot. and even more awesome, if the infection would have gotten into my blood stream, i could have died. yeah, awesome.
i had to do wet to dry dressings for the next, month and a half. by the way doing your own wet to dry is... well, rough. actually any wet to dry is rough. i dont care who you are. i learn to deal with a lot of pain during the time, lets just say that. still to this day my right foot bothers me after really long days but its nothing to complain about. and i have this cool half inch by inch and half scar where i have no feeling.
all that to say...dont leave your belts lying on floor where you can step on them, or at least look before you leap.
all for now. hope you enjoyed
-erl
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