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Welcome to my home

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Friendly Mid-Western Face Gets Mauled by Vicious Creature of the Lagoon

So this could quite possibly be the next summer blockbuster action movie that requires the work of Harrison Ford, Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Mel Gibson, maybe Ice Cube, but definitely some comedic relief from Eddie Murphy to fully grasp the raw intensity of this event. This story includes a true villain, a blood-filled maritime assault, and the eventual victory of good over evil. Without further ado…(also, if you could read this while listening to Coolio’s “Gangsta’s Paradise” that would be great)

We were all drugged up and groggy from a day of perpetual snoozing. Sunday, the first day off after a long week of work, had been a rare storm of sheer cloud force. The rain storm left us trapped inside for the entirety of the day. So, in an effort to pass the time, my co-workers and I holed up in one of our rooms together and nerded out watching movies and playing video games all day. When we weren’t playing games, we napped; while the movies played, we napped. I would estimate that 80% of the Sunday hours were spent either asleep, or close to it.

As most of us know, an overdose of sleep can do the same thing to a body that sleep deprivation can. So, when we emerged on Monday from our little burrow of shelter from the storm, we were not only disoriented by the amount of sunshine, but also severely drunk on too much sleep. We got food, and decided it would be a good idea to head to the beach afterwards. Armed with our mono-hued inner tubes, we took to the water. Side note: in an effort to gain street cred and intimidate our rivals, we have dubbed ourselves the “Fruit Loop Gang” because our tubes resemble Fruit Loops (mine is green.) The name gives us cohesion. The name gives us pride. The name gives us power…or so we thought.

Sure we were cocky as we floated on the water. It was our turf. Who would have the audacity to engage us in epic combat? So there we were—relaxin’ to the max. A casual fish flipped across the surface. They have been known to do this in the particular area that we were floating. We watched as one fish in particular threaded itself in and out of air and water at racing speed. It was a beautiful silver creature of approximately 18” in length, 4” in diameter. A muscular tube of the Sun’s silvery reflection. But something was off. What happened next can only be described as an eruption of blood and chaos.

Whitney “Anemone” Thorsheim (War Cheif of the Fruit Loop Gang) pointed as the fish encroached on her location. Normally our posse is quick, but this time we were not quick enough. By the time we had turned in our Fruit Loops, the fish had already set his teeth into her face. The fish’s jaws were locked tightly over her left eye, the top row of teeth just to the left of it, the lower jaw deeply set in her cheek. But Whitney is one hard soldier. Let’s be honest, you have to be to get to the rank of War Chief. She didn’t cry; she didn’t scream.

She slapped a fish.

Snap son! Who do you think you are? You can’t tango with the Fruit Loops if you don’t wanna get slapped.

By the time the fish had been launched back to the sea, we had finally been able to help her back to shore. The lifeguards on duty were worthless. They had know idea what to do with a girl who was gushing with blood, the sad victim of another fish drive-by. Kristi “Coral” Hilton (1st Lt. of Trash Talk Deflection) suggested that they call an ambulance, and they thought that that would be a good idea.

So, the rest of us hopped on our bikes (remember, no cars…) and peddled our way over to the E.R. (which isn’t that fancy, let’s keep in mind that up until the early 1990’s the entire hospital was in a tent…) We sat, for around hours, patiently awaiting the return of our fallen homie. When she walked out, she resembled the Phantom of the Opera. The entire side of her left face was covered in bandages that concealed eye patches and stitches. Now, we are hoping that she has no nerve damage. But she gets an entire week of work off. After a bit of questioning, we discovered that the culprit was actually a small barracuda. Sweet right?

Nothing really cool has happened to me. But that was really exciting to be a part of. Are you not entertained?

I’m enjoying work more and more as I become more accustomed to being paralyzed by language barriers at times. I still miss everyone and hope to hear from you all whenever you get a chance. Turns out that the Astros suck this year…but it’s still pre-All Star break, so anyone still has a chance to do anything…except the Cubs. They will, inevitably, self destruct. So that makes me happy.

Also, I have plans to by a Ukulele. I’ve been learning how to play one, and I hope to bring it back to Iowa. It’s going to be the next iPod. I know it.


Katie said...

I have a few things to say:
1. Why was I not mentioned and given a cool name in the rescue of our fallen comrade?!?
2. I'm happy to see that you've finally updated your blog with a new story so now my experience from the fishing boat is "old news."
3. I'm going to forward your blog to my parents so they can read up on all of our adventures..what can I say, you have a way with words. I know they'll love reading this :)
4. Thanks for throwing the jab in about the Cubs... although I don't know why you're doing it cause THEY'RE BETTER THEN THE ASTROS!!!
5. ATM...thats all

Maggie said...

Well, sad story, but I'm glad it wasn't you. Since, technically, you have always held the family standing of being "the pretty one," being mauled by a baracuda may have been detrimental to your identity. Not to mention what all those stitches and bandages would do to your tan line.

In all seriousness, though, have you considered turning your blogs into a book? Clearly you're a phenomenal writer. (Insert quote--"Please! You and I both know I'm a phenomenal dancer!" Irrelevant, yet necessary.)

Anyway, take your blogs and turn them into a book--just make sure you spell check it first. Oh, and give me 10% for managing your life.