Shoot, I knew this would happen... this is my prediction: I'm going to get really obsessed with blogging about stupid things that no one really cares about, but I won't be able to stop. Kind of like when you're eating and you start laughing hysterically at the same time - you know other people are repulsed, yet for some reason you can't control yourself and just quit...in fact, it just gets worse and worse because the more you laugh the more you can't stop, and the more chunks are flying out of your mouth at every second until pretty soon you just start puking all over the place. Yeah, kind of like that. But then of course a month or so of this will pass and I'll suddenly get bored and move on to a new addiction. I'm hoping I won't ever neglect blogging completely, but my posts will certainly decrease in quantity as the excitement of having a new method of procrastination to play with wears off.
If you want to know how the majority of my day has been, read THIS.
However, after a sneaky-hate-spiral-filled-day (seriously, click that link), I finally got some good news. Due to the chaotic weather conditions, both my mom and sister were stranded other places and neither could come home tonight. Nothing against my mom and sister of course, love them to death, but if you know me, you know I treasure my independence and alone time a great deal. Especially in a tiny apartment (the designer of which obviously didn't see it necessary to supply my bedroom with a door) that lacks any means of escaping the excessive cacophony of unnecessary sounds that seem to emulate from everyone who isn't me. What I'm saying is, I enjoy my silent freedom greatly.
The hard part is knowing what to do with all this freedom...I mean, the opportunities are pretty much endless. Which is why I chose to eat a pint of ice cream for dinner, followed by an entire night of doing useless but completely entertaining things on the computer. Oh wait, that's what I do every single night, regardless of my parental restraints. Oh well. It was/is a good night anyway. Except for the part where I created the Atlantic Ocean on my bed/floor with a bottle of peroxide...I have no excuse for pouring it on my wounded toe over my floor instead of over the bath tub other than pure laziness.
Oh...I had a request (from Kaitlyn Beuckelaere...there, that's your mention, Kait) to tell a story about one of my favorite shenanigans on here. I'm hesitant because it will make this post really long, and since it's my second lengthy post within a few hours, I will look pathetic. However, it is also probably my favorite story about something stupid I did...well, maybe...I have a lot of stories to choose from, you know.
Okay, here it is.
So, I was at my Church (which you'll find that's the setting for a large portion of where my shenanigan stories take place), and I was supposed to be working at the garage sale that was going on as a fundraiser for missions trips. This was in the summer. But me and one of my best friends, we'll call her Reina, and our other friend, Austin, got bored and decided to take a break and do something exciting. And what else says "exciting" like fire does? Not much, let me tell ya.
Our initial plan was to keep ourselves limited to fire balls. That's when you soak cotton balls (or tennis balls, for more advanced adventures) in rubbing alcohol and light them on fire...they're fun because you can throw them around for a while before they die out. So, we were messing around with our little fire balls in the back parking lot, and pretty soon we started lighting puddles of the rubbing alcohol on fire. But then we were like, "Man, I wish we could make these puddles deeper so the fire would stay longer." Then we came up with this really great idea to fill a bowl with the rubbing alcohol and see how long it would take to all burn into nothingness. That's when adrenaline entered my blood stream, and that's usually the point where my innocent plans accidentally turn into criminal acts of destruction. We darted to the Church kitchen like kids on Christmas morning to find a suitable bowl. Out of respect for Church property, we grabbed the crappiest looking bowl so that no one would miss it. However, in our haste and excitement, we lacked the attention to comprehend the fact that the bowl was made of plastic.
That's when we stopped to think. I mean, if we were going to light a bowl of rubbing alcohol on fire, we should do it the safe way: in the bathroom, so that we had immediate access to water, just in case. Safety first, right?
So, the three of us hurried into the unisex bathroom and filled the little, yellow bowl up and lit it that sucker. It was really awesome and completely satisfying for about 3.8 seconds as we all sat around the flaming bowl. That's when we noticed the fire wasn't only burning the alcohol, but the bowl itself was beginning to melt. Then, in one sudden, horrific moment, the bowl collapsed and the flaming alcohol spread over the bathroom floor. We jumped up and starting dumping water from the sink onto it, but apparently we were the only people in the world that didn't know that adding water to alcohol only makes it spread, so we were really only adding to the blaze and making it a thousand times worse. That's when it became apparent that we were about to be engulfed in flames, so we jumped out of the bathroom, slammed the door, and began running around in circles like chickens with our heads cut off. I was pretty sure that the whole Church was about to burn down because of me. We ran to the custodial closet to get towels to beat the fire with, and by the time I came back around the corner, there were flames shooting out from underneath the crack in the door. That's when I pretty much saw my life flash before my eyes. My reputation was already not in a great place at that time, and I really didn't want to have burning a Church down on my record, too.
But I think that's when God said, "Fine, I guess you can have one more try at not being retarded," because suddenly the flames sucked themselves back under the door, and by the time we opened the bathroom, the alcohol head burned up, and the bathroom appeared completely untouched. I mean, it reeked for sure, but nothing was black or smoldering, and the alarm didn't even go off.
The three of us stared blankly, jaws dropped and eyes wide, trying to reteach our lungs how to pump oxygen. Then came the laughter of relief, and the anticipation of the day that we would be able to tell this story without getting kicked out of the youth group.
I wrote this amazing comment and then forgot to fill out the security code thing. Booo.
ReplyDeleteBasically it talked about how I had no idea that you guys had set the church on fire, I just remember telling you to stop being lazy and be thankful for the fund-raising opportunity provided by the Lord (...ahem...).
I also mentioned that if you set the church on fire again I will make you feel horribly guilty about it.
That was about it.
My apologies for being on the grammar law enforcement team but I do believe the word you are looking for is reeked and not wreaked.
ReplyDelete