I thought everyone hated me

I pulled out my phone yesterday morning to send a text to Spencer, but then I realized that I had sent the last nine in our conversation. Awkward. I decided to wait until he broke the chain. But as the day went on there were things I legitimately needed to tell him and he still hadn't sent me anything. I got over my pride and sent the 10th, 11th, and 12th texts in a row. Still no reply. I even told him that I had gotten a job interview knowing that he would reply with excitement, but my phone was still silent. Call me irrational, but I was a little annoyed. By the time I picked him up that night I was moody and mad that he had been ignoring my good news all day! But the first thing he said was, "have you gotten any of my texts today??"

. . . awkward. Turns out he was getting my texts and replying, they just weren't coming through.

So the next day at work my sister called, but I texted her to inform her that I couldn't answer. When she never replied, I realized that she hadn't replied to any of the texts I'd sent over the past few days. When I thought back I realized that no one who I had texted in the past 48 hours had responded. Ouch.

I did a little bit of critical thinking and realized that there might be an issue with my phone. I restarted it and proceeded to get six voicemails and about 48 texts in the next few minutes, they just kept coming!! One was from my sister asking if I could pick her up from the airport . . . my bad. I took these screenshots right after turning my phone back on, but that's only like half the texts that came flooding in.

I'm mostly posting this story for the memory of it, but also as a general apology for not responding to texts/voice mails. I know I'm not always the best at responding right away, but I'm not usually this bad! Let's forgive and forget, people. Forgive and forget.

Regrets of an awkward onlooker

You know how sometimes you're walking and all of a sudden you find yourself on the ground? Ok, well, this has never actually happened to me, but I've seen it in the movies. But I have had my fair share of moments when my foot underestimates the height of a stair and I trip a little. I'm only human. What I've learned from these moments is that they're better when a friend is there to laugh at you.

Like, dropping your ice cream on the ground is embarrassing and awkward if you're alone, but if a friend is there you can openly discuss the spaz factor of the moment. If you tried laughing about it with a stranger you would end up looking a little pathetic and desperate . . . right?

Well, I just witnessed one of these moments from the outside, and it turns out they can be awkward for the onlooker as well.  

This poor girl. She was strolling around campus like no big deal. But next thing you know her backless-wedges slipped from under her heel and after a few desperate attempts to save herself she landed flat on the ground, notebooks and binders flying. 

I felt terribly awkward. I mean, this was a big fall you guys. Literally everyone in the vicinity had stopped to stare. I didn't know what to do. I was clearly the person nearest her - did I run forward to help with her sprawled notebooks? I was a little too far away for that to be natural. Did I make eye contact and give her a "just one of those days" kinda look? Did I ask if she was ok?

As I stood there in silent debate she pulled a remarkably fast recovery. She gathered her books and regained her composure in one swift movement, walking on with her face a little more red than the moment before. As for me? I played off the pause in my stride and continued on as though nothing had happened. I averted my eyes and let her live in denial of the fact that everyone had witnessed her fall. 

At the time I thought I was doing her a favor. If no one mentioned it, it never happened. But if I could go back I'd do it differently. If I had been the one with a huge, epic, out-of-a-movie fall in public then the only thing that would make me feel ok about it would be someone trying to laugh it off with me. I'm positive that the embarrassment of the moment could have been lessened exponentially if someone had been there to laugh with her. 

So, moral of the story? Don't wear backless wedges. Also, when in doubt, offer a helping hand. You won't regret it.* 

*Unless the person is a serial killer. You guys, this may sound extreme, but let's not forget Ted Bundy. Ok thanks bye. 

I'm lame enough to be cool

Or at least, that's what this post is telling me.

You guys, Sierra is adorable and amazing and her writing is something else, so I would recommend clicking on that link. Now is the perfect time to become addicted to a new blog.

I have always found myself to be an awkward person, and as of late I've come to accept it is a part of me. I've been trying to justify it as a charming or even endearing trait, and the "lame-cool" list provided by Sierra helped me to do just that.

Now go see where you fall on the spectrum and be impressed by how perfectly she grouped celebrities.

Here is the link again. I'm adamant.  

Also, her internet-savvy husband just redesigned her blog and it is beautiful so probably leave a comment telling her how much you adore it.

That is all.

Family connections

I was making a purchase the other day and, upon seeing the name on my card, the cashier asked if I was related to Julie Crookston. I told her that we're all related, but I don't really know any of them. I expected the conversation to end there, but she continued to tell me where Julie worked on campus.

I wasn't really sure how to respond to that. Is this information meant to help me remember our relation? Should I look like I'm pondering it for a second and then restate my comment about not knowing her? Should I smile and nod? Probably. That is always a good option. But instead I decided to say something borderline clever and completely cliche, like, "with a last name like Crookston she much be pretty great!" But no. It turns out I have an inability to say normal things under pressure and the words that came out of my mouth were "well, I hope she's a good person."

... What? like I'm concerned for the welfare of her soul or something. By the time I was finishing the sentence the meaning was clicking, and I decided there was nothing to do but try to mumble the last syllables, my head down, and walk away before she could put a face to my name.

No special skills required

The best thing about college is the classes that don't have real tests. You've all had one, and you all loved it. I'm currently in such a class - print publishing - and I'm stoked. We only have projects, no tests. True, the final presentation falls on my birthday which will be the first time in my life I've had school on my birthday, but considering I'm getting away with a presentation instead of a bubble sheet I'll take what I can get.

Last semester was good to me in way of tests. One class had open-book/open-note, two were directly from the powerpoints/review sheets, and my English class only had one test and then a final paper. Love it.

As this final paper took the place of a legit final, there were a few extra requirements that went into it. Nothing too life-altering, just really specific page numbering, formatting, etc. But the main thing we had to do to set this paper apart from the others was to get it bound.

Now, I'll be honest. I'm lazy. I definitely could have gone down to the copy/print center on campus and had this done, but it is way on the other side of campus and I wasn't willing to make that kind of time commitment.

Instead I drove over to a little copy center on Bulldog where a former roommate once worked. I made the 2 minute drive and, upon entering, asked if I could get my paper bound.

Worker Lady: "Um, yeah. Do you want to do it, or do you want me to do it?"
Sadie: "..............."
WL: "It's cheaper if you do it."

Um, yeah, I guess it would be. But like, really? I'm asking for binding and covers on like 15 sheets of paper, is the cost of labor really enough that having me do it is going to save a significant amount of money? And it's not like this was the bagger dude at the grocery store asking if I wanted to bag my groceries or if I wanted him to do it. While that would still catch me off guard (um, are you not getting paid to do it?), I would at least be able to do it. It's not like that takes a special skill outside of putting the bread on top so it doesn't get smashed.

But this was different. I have no idea how to bind a book. That's like walking into a tailors shop with a pair of pants that needs hemming. Do you want to do it or do you want me to do it? Well, considering I'm here, with my pants, and I'm paying you to make them an inch shorter, I'm gonna say I want you to do it. Dental cleaning? Wedding planner? Graphic designer? Editor? Private investigator? Heart surgeon? Are you sure you don't want to do it? It'll be cheaper.

Sadie: "Um, yeah. I don't know how.
WL: "I can teach you."

And so she did. She punched the holes into one sheet of paper and showed me how to twist the little spiral thing on. She then proceeded to un-twist the spiral thing and hand the remaining papers to me.

In addition to the 50 cents I saved I'm totally adding "spiral binding" to my resume. I am determined to get the most out of this experience. 

Check for Flash

I often say that I am an awkward person, to which people often reply, "no you're not."

I'm pretty sure the fact that that is the only thing they can say is proof enough, but just in case you want more evidence, I've got it.

You may remember me mentioning in numerous previous posts that my phone was not able to turn off the shutter sound. It really cramped my style, the whole "not being able to take creepy pictures of strangers" thing. I went months passing up the perfect photo op simply because of my uber loud, in your face, phone.

But then the heavens opened and my prayers were answered: my phone contract ended. Time to join the world of angry birds, instagram, and, most importantly, creeper pictures.

Since the arrival of my beautiful and glorious phone I have had no trouble getting back in the swing of things. Girl with crazy hair? Captured. Secret photo of a professor? Not a problem.

I've been living the dream for the past few weeks now, but today I was brought to a reality check: shutter sound or no, I will still find a way to make the situation as awkward as possible. 

There I was, sitting in the student center, finishing my take home test like a boss. When I look up for a break I notice the couple sitting across from me. 

They were adorable. I'm not really a fan of PDA and by all of my normal standards I should have been annoyed by them, but something about them was nothing short of adorable. 

They were sitting on a couch, legs on the table, reading Ender's Game aloud. Was it the fact that I love that book? Was it the way he turned the pages for her? Was it the way they were completely engrossed in their own little world? I'm not sure, but I wanted to capture it. 

The issue: while my shutter noise was turned off, my flash was not. 

Yeah. It was bad. 

The good news is that I got a picture out of it?

No. The good news is that I now know to check. I will never let this happen again. 

Hey there, flash in my computer screen. Thanks for nothing. 

When I went to send the picture from phone to computer via bluetooth one of the devices was named Ender. Coincidence??