Thursday, March 1, 2012

Did I really just say that...

I recently moved to Houston, TX (okay, I've been here about 4 days). I am working as an a regional recruiter for Mississippi State, which means that I just work out of my apartment. So today, I was tired of being in my apartment so I decided to go to the closest Starbucks just to have a change in scenery and do some work.

When I was buying my coffee, of course the cashier who is the manager was asking about MSU debit card and all of that stuff. Then asked my name, I didn't even go in to the double-name thing, people around here do not get it. So after some small talk I got my cofffee, found a table and literally started making a nest. I had all of this material spread out all over the table and floor. The same cashier came over and was trying to sweep around me at one point, and we made some jokes about all of my stuff- you know, just small talk.

Then he came over, and said, "Do you have a gum or mint or anything? You girls always have that kind of stuff in all of your bags." I looked at him and said, "I doubt it, but I'll check..". (as I'm digging through my purse and not finding anything) I look back up at him and say, "I'm kind of a bad girl."

As soon as the words came out of my mouth I wanted to vomit, but instead I turned extremely red, and couldn't even back up or explain. (What I meant by that statment was.....I'm not Mary Poppins or one of those girls who can pull a pair of scissors and scotch tape out of her purse.)

While I'm blood red and awkwardly fumbling through my things, he then says, "Oh that's're southern and you blush."

I could not get out of there fast enough! Now I am completely mortified to go back because you know at Starbucks they try to remember you so next time it's like they know you and your drink

I can only imagnie the adventures to come in Texas..

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Domestic Disasters

No matter how hard I try, I am not the least bit. Even the simplest task causes issues. Here are some stories of my domestic doozies:

One time at a friends (John) apartment I said that I would do all of his dishes since he was letting me wash clothes. Of course I thought I was being helpful. So as my clothes are washing and drying I load the dishwasher, put the soap in, close it up, and we leave to go get ice cream or something. Well when we got back we walked down to another friend's apartment before going back in his. While we were in the other apartment John's roommate came in and said that we needed to get back to the apartment because something was wrong with the dishwasher. Well we walk in and soap suds are coming from the kitchen and are about to be in the den. So John runs through the suds turns the dishwasher off, then looks and me and asks, what I had done. I said nothing I just loaded the dishes, and filled up the soap cup with the Dawn dish washing liquid from the back of the sink. (I thought that was what you were suppose to use.) After lots of laughing, and scooping soap suds up with cups, I learned not to use Dawn to wash dishes.

A friend of mine from high school was home one weekend and a good friend of mine from college had come to Tupelo to visit, too. So while they were there I thought that I would try to bake cookies from scratch. As I read the cookbook I realized that I had all the ingredients except for one...the milk. Since I was only missing one ingredient I decided it wasn't worth going to the grocery store for that when I could just substitute something for milk. In my mind, I thought well butter and milk both come from cows, so instead of using milk I will just melt butter, it's probably about the same consistency, and if not I will melt a little extra just to make up for it. At this point, both of my friends had arrived and the cookies were baking in the oven. When I pulled them out they looked a little different from other cookies, but I didn't think much about it. That was until, I tried to scrape them off the cookie sheet and serve them, and they were the consistency of cornbread. The cookies were not even edible, we all tried them and they were terrible!! The dog wouldn't even eat the cookies.

Recently, I pulled another domestic disaster, there was a group of us all cooking and grilling out together. At this point in my life everyone knows jsut to ask me to go buy something that is pre-made, and I do. But on this particular night I felt like I should help everyone else with their cooking. Someone asked me to turn the burner on the stove on so I just clicked it on and waited for the burner to get hot. I walked in the den to talk to everyone while a waited. Well about 5 minutes later, one of the guys started going crazy and yelling about how someone must have been trying to kill us. Little did I know it was a gas stove and you are suppose to light those things....oops. I had just turned on the gas and it was filling up the house. Needless to say my domestic duties were taken away.

My family and friends have all learned not to ask me to cook or bake, instead just go by and pick something up. That's fine with me, to be honest I think it stresses me out too much to cook at this point in my life anyway. This lack of domestic ability was inherited so I can blame it on that, my sweet Nanna I not a cook either, in fact we ask her not to cook at Thanksgiving and Christmas (she's the one where I learned that you can "substitute" ingredients from), but she always says as long as her Visa card still swipes there will be food on the table.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Graduation Shoes

So everyone knows about the shoe books....ballet shoes, movie shoes, theater shoes, skating shoes, etc... Well I have my own version of the shoe books called graduation shoes, however, these shoes are a little different from the rest of the shoe books.

Just like any other time in my life, nothing is normal, easy, or just ordinary. So this particular night was college graduation for me. Which just like any time someone graduates there is a lot of excitement and nervousness. But, graduation night was very special because some of my very best friends in the world were graduating with me, we got to walk down the aisle together, and sit by each other, and laugh about all the things going on around us.

It came time for us to walk across the stage. So my row stood up and we started making our way to the stage, in front of a crowd of about 5,000 people, and all of a sudden my heel slipped out of my black pumps. Well I try to slide it back in nonchalanltly and as soon as I begin to walk my heel slips again. It gets so bad that it looks like I am trying to walk without picking my feet up, just shuffling across the floor. At this point I am already holding up an entire line of soon to be graduates and there is a huge gap in fron of me in the line. In a sheer panic I tell people to pass me, I bend down thinking I have broken my shoe when I realize that if I get out of line I will mess up the entire line. As terrible and embarrassing as it sounds (and it was) I take both shoes off stand up straight, walk to my spot in line, put my shoes on right before I walk across the stage and graduate. The shoes did not move or slide or anything as soon as I accepted the diploma, handshake, and a few hugs, they made it back to my seat, and finally out of the coliseum and the crowd without slipping.

So as embarrassing as it was, I guess those are my graduation shoes, I wore them tripping and stumbling and as soon as I "reach" a goal the shoes fit like Cinderella's slippers.

Needless to say when I look at those shoes I get a little nauseous and it will probably be a while before I wear them, but they will always be my graduation shoes.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Tiny Hands

Okay so if you know me, you know that I have really small hands. I don’t know why, I mean no one in my family has hands this little, but when a person finds out how small my hands are they usually talk about it for a while and point it out often.

I remember when I was learning how to type in middle school and all my friends and I had races to see who could type the fastest I always lost and I took guitar lessons for a quick minute but that didn’t last long b/c I couldn’t stretch my hands out to make all the chords…still to this day I can only play G, C, and D. My hand still fits in the imprint plate I made in kindergarten…you know the one you make for your mom on Mother’s day.

I promise this story is going somewhere…..

I was in show choir in high school, and I promise it was the “cool” thing to do at our high school. I absolutely loved it…you can ask anyone. I’m not a particularly good dancer and I don’t have a lot of rhythm, in fact our show choir teacher said he would always remember me because I was a beat behind.

Well one night we were up at the auditorium really late rehearsing for our show, we were all really tired and had tons of other things to do. So of course we were all kind of half way dancing and singing and of course I was goofing around and not being serious at all. So Mr. Harris our director stopped the band, stopped our dancing, and stopped me from joking around. He made everyone sit down, so I sit down and as soon as I sat he looked straight at me and said Margaret Claire you can stand back up and do that whole eight-count by yourself. Well I started laughing and so did everyone else thinking he was joking….oh no he wasn’t joking at all. So he made me stand up and do the whole eight count by myself, but in this eight count you had to make big hands and almost like jazz-fingers. Well after I did the eight count he broke his pencil because he was yelling at me and told me I was not making big enough hands.

At that point, all of my friends…okay everyone was laughing. My friend Anna Claire raises her hand and waves it around in the air and in the most matter of fact voice says, ”Mr. Harris, Margaret Claire can’t make big hands because she has midget hands.” Everyone was laughing, even Mr. Harris, still to this day when people make fun of me for having small hands Anna Claire and I act out the eight count Mr. Harris made me do in front of everyone.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Yes....I just said Red Hot Lovin'

There are some people who have asked where the nickname Red Hot Lovin’ came from so here’s the story.

This past semester at State I had an interview to be on Cabinet again, and this interview was a group interview. But the thing that made this interview so interesting is that a lot of my friends were doing the interviewing, I interviewed with some friends, and then there were people in the interview I had never met before.

Group interviews at Mississippi State have a reputation for being kind of out there for example; some of the questions are compare yourself to your favorite fruit, if you were a building on campus what would it be, or other random questions. So before the interview I had kind of run through some random questions in my head just to be mentally prepared.

Well time for the interview came and my group walks single file line into this big boardroom and there are my friends sitting across the table. Of course we all start laughing. So I sit down and it’s time for the interview. A girl down the table get the first question…If you were a fruit what would you be and why? No big deal, she answered it was fine…the end.

Then Price looks at me and asks, ”If you were any crayon color (and I promise he said a color not in the box) what color would you be?” With no hesitation or thought, clearly, I said, “Red Hot Lovin’” Yes, it was word vomit, as soon as the words came out of my mouth I wanted to die. I turned as red as my hair, the entire room was laughing. But I just had to laugh it off too.

Ok, to be honest the name didn’t really come out of nowhere. When I was a sophomore at State, it was spring semester and a bunch of my friends and I were about to go to the beach for spring break. So just like every other girl in America or at Mississippi State I went to the tanning bed. Did I mention I have red hair, but I do tan well for a redhead. Anyway, I should not have laid in the tanning bed for 20 minutes that was a huge mistake.

Later that night I was really red….duh, and I was hanging out with my friends Jay and Justin, and of course they were making fun of me for being so red they even wrote a song about how red I was. It was called Red Hot Lovin’ Under the Sun. I can’t remember any of the lyrics but it was pretty funny.

So when the question was asked what crayon color I would be, I gave them an answer I will never live down. The most embarrassing part is that people I don’t know were walking up to me the next day asking me about the Red Hot Lovin’ story. Just typical.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Ridin' with the bug man

This summer I am working for a company that owns a lot of different types of companies, one of the companies is a bug terminating company. So as part of our internship we had to go and visit each of the companies, and on this particular day we had to go the terminator comapny, which I was a little nervous about to begin with.

Well after we get to the bug spraying headquarters we get put in cars with a bug man. Ok now to begin...First of all if anyone knows me I am deathly afraid of roaches, I don't know what it is about them but I would rather see a snake or a mouse. So I get in the bug man's car and there is a mardis gras bug necklace hanging from the rearview mirror...I kind of freaked out.

Well William, that's the bug man's name gets in the car, and the two of us start the spraying adventure. Oh did I mention that i am dressed like the bug man in pants, close-toed khaki shoes, and a button down shirt...and it's 100 degrees outside. While we are riding in the car I keep trying to make conversation because this is so awkward. William and I talk about college...he didn't go, we talk about sports....he doesn't like most sports, he loves to cook....I can barely make a melted turkey and cheese without messing something up, clearly this is going no where fast.

On our bug spraying jobs we had to spray restaraunts (be careful where you eat and what you eat), we sprayed some office buildings, and a movie theater. While we are at the movie theater we start talking about movies and actors and I think this is a safe subject. I bring up Julia Roberts, she is my favorite and not just because she is a red head but she is great in everything.

Then just like the rest of our conversations the bug man says well I don't like Julia Roberts and then he said "yeah I know it's kind of weird I don't like her because not to make you awkward or anything, but I kind of have a thing for red heads."

So now I got even more awkward because I have red hair......

Luckily that was the last conversation William and I had becuase just as he told me he had a thing for redheads the other bug man I was suppose to ride around with came and picked me up.

Later when I got back to the bug spraying headquarters I told another intern about it and she said that the bug men got to pick out who they wanted to ride with them.

Good thing I didn't tell the bug man that my nickname was red hot lovin'