The "How Not To" Series Begins ...

A few weeks ago an old friend of mine from high school saw this blog and commented about how much I have changed since then. She wrote something about how I was always the one who did the "How Not to Try Out for Cheerleader" during the camp that the varsity cheerleaders held for all the candidates during the week before tryouts. This involved me running around on the stage doing the banana jump (which is NOT a real cheerleading jump, as everybody knows) and saying, "Woooooooo" like a derailing Amtrak. It was supposed to be a humorous attempt to keep people from embarrassing themselves, but it never worked. Inevitably, girls would get up there and replicate my entire routine. I was chosen to do this because I spent my 7th, 8th, and 9th grade year perfecting my ability to not make cheerleader during tryouts. For some reason, in 10th grade it must have just clicked, because I finally made it that year and by senior year I was a co-captain and the "How Not to Try Out for Cheerleader" spokesperson.

Just for the record, I hated every minute of cheerleading and I only did it to hide the fact that I should've been in the band like the rest of the dorks. At that point in my life, I was not as comfortable with my dorkiness as I am now. The only reason I was elected co-captain was because the other girls knew that I hated it and were smart enough to figure out that if I were in charge then we wouldn't have to practice all that much. Majority rules.

I was pondering this idea of "How Not To ..." today and was thinking of all the other things in my life that I could demonstrate in that manner. I think I'll start a series on this, so be on the lookout for my upcoming "How Not To ..." posts. Like yesterday, for example, I could've written about "How Not To Win Against a Major Corporation in Small Claims Court."

On Sunday night, as usual, I sat down to write a long post about nothing, but after I hit "Publish Post," the whole thing disappeared. Of course I did not do anything silly like throw the baby monitor into the fireplace, because I believe strongly in what my yoga teacher in Flagstaff used to say at the end of every practice: "The Universe is Perfect JUST THE WAY IT IS."

So this is what I would've written on Sunday night, which was before the day that I LOST MISERABLY in a battle against Northworst Airlines ...

Today I got up late (it was Mom Gets to Sleep In Day) and went down to the yoga room to do my morning routine. Just as I got to the part where I had my feet over my head with my butt in the air, I heard women's voices. I looked out the window to see two women walking their dogs right up to my front door. Now, as you know, we live in a state park, so this isn't all that abnormal, but usually I am awake enough to say, "This is a residence; we don't have a public bathroom" and go on with my life. I may or may not have to define "residence," but they typically understand the part about the bathroom.

Today, however, the women were just a teensie eensie bit slower than usual in figuring it out, and so one of them approached the window with her dog (who was sniffing about my ferns looking for his own bathroom spot). I could already hear every word she was saying, but instead of just maintaining her normal voice level, she tapped on the glass, peered in, saw me, and then mouthed dramatically, "IS THIS A RES-I-DENCE?"

Wonder what gave it away? The tropical print pajama bottoms? The room full of toys? The wreath on the door? The sign in the driveway that reads, "Ranger Residence"?

By the time I got to the door to explain where there is a public bathroom (I ALWAYS take pity on people who need to pee because I have had my share of need-to-pee moments), they were gone and the dog had already found his bathroom.

Later in the day, we decided to go for a bike ride, which is something I miss TERRIBLY about Flagstaff (I never drove my car anywhere there). The Goose had won a bid on Ebay for a bike seat and helmet, so we dug our bikes out of the garage (after you have a baby, you don't want to ride a bike for quite a while) and in the process discovered that we house not only BRs, but BWs. So that means we have BOTH of the only two poisonous spiders in North America. Black Widows, people. Do you know what happens when you get bitten by a BW? Within two hours you have SEVERE abdominal cramping with vomiting and you must be taken to a hospital. Plus, you feel the bite. With BRs, you may or may not feel the bite, but then your skin starts to rot off.

Instead of bashing the BW with a shoe or a kayak paddle or wrench, Husband decided to spray it down with Foaming Wasp & Hornet Spray (forgetting that he had already used up most of the bottle attacking a nest of wasps inside the screen of our bedroom window and still managing to miss the queen). As a result, there was not enough spray to kill the BW and she ran into a groove in my helmet, which was sitting next to her web. In the process of killing the spider, I put a huge crack in the helmet, so now it looks as if I have endured some awful bike crash. Here is a picture of me and The Goose in our dorky helmets:This is also the pose that I struck at Costco last week during my Photo ID session. The Costco employee was not even phased by the fact that I posed for my picture and then proceeded to crop out all but my face even though I requested a full-body shot. I am slowly learning that The Customer is NOT Always Right.

TRANSITION?

Finally, I must tell the recent story of our phone line being crossed with one Jennifer Who Has Just Recently Left Her Husband (JWHJRLHH). One day last week we noticed that our phone was acting weird. The next day we got a call from JWHJRLHH, who informed us that our line was crossed with hers and that she had already called Bellsouth to report the problem. Within two hours, JWHJRLHH's Mother called to check on her. She thought I was JWHJRLHH and it took me a few minutes to explain the whole situation. Then she proceeded to tell me that JWHJRLHH had just recently left her husband and moved into a house near the ag center. She always knew that it wouldn't work out, but she kept her big mouth shut because "you cain't tell these kids nothin'." Especially when he broke off their engagement and broke JWHJRLHH's heart so badly that she burned all her bridal magazines in a pyre in front of his mama's house (where he was living at the time).

You just cannot make this stuff up.

Today I'm being taken out for sushi to celebrate my valiant attempt to claim what was owed to me by Northworst Airlines. I hope you all have a happy Tuesday filled with winning battles, nonpoisonous spiders, and uncrossed phone lines. And remember ...

The Universe is perfect, JUST THE WAY IT IS.