Hiding is not my forte

I know that I am supposed to be presenting you with one of my way-too-many car accident stories, but that is just depressing and I need a brake.  Do you like that? Not break, but brake? like car brakes? :O) Besides, it is not at all fun to draw rectangle cars and circle tires. By the way, weren't my tires awesome?

Okay, onto today's subject. Hiding with the intent to scare. My dad was able to successfully scare me hundreds of times by hiding in my room before I went to bed. You would think that his preparation and training that I would be able to withstand any one's attempt at scaring me and that I would have learned this sacred technique. Unfortunately, I missed something in those lessons. You see, I am an easy target. Don't ever throw a surprise party for me. YOU HEAR THAT? DON'T ...DO...IT...

I hope to gain some insight into why my scare tactics don't work. Maybe you can even make suggestions yourself. I have outlined some of my common techniques. I don't fear sharing these with you because I have never had a successful scare with any of them, therefore it won't ruin the moment in the case of a real scare attempt.

I think the problem arises when I have to wait long enough for me to imagine Anthony's the person's face when I scare them. I like to imagine that there will be some sort of scream or yelp associated with look of fear in the eyes and a jump back.

Intended result. Very funny. That's not Anthony.

Hide in the Closet
I like this technique. Hiding in a closet does not play into my claustrophobia. I can breathe in open air and am not confined to standing in one position.

Note to self: less coffee, also, think about something not funny. Like shoes. But shoes can be funny....crap.

Behind the Door
This isn't a bad idea, because who would expect someone to randomly pop out from behind the door? I don't like this as much because I have to hold very, very still. I think that it looks like this when I hide:

But in reality, it probably looks more like this:

Not so stealthy

Beside the Bed

What I think I look like

Reality

Hiding under the Covers

Again, what I think I look like

Reality

Suggestions, anyone?

P.S. To the person who almost gave me a heart attack this morning, beware. I am about to get the best advice ever and you, Anthony PERSON, should be scared.

P.P.S. To the readers of my car accident series, I will try to continue that tomorrow. I have to allow myself to recover from too much rectanglage.

Attack of the Killer Garage

The day after I was granted my driver's license I wrecked four cars, a garage, and a house with one vehicle. No one else was driving. Just me. Jealous? Yeah, probably not.

My aunt was visiting our house and had parked her car (naturally) in our driveway. I was awaiting a first date from a guy that I was completely in love with. He tried to pull into our driveway but could not because my aunt's car was too far back. My aunt says to me, "Oh Candice! You can move it!! You have your license now! Here you go!" She tossed the keys to her car my way. I didn't even catch them. That should have been a sign for what was to come...

I took the keys anyway and headed to her car to move it forward.

I slowly pressed the gas pedal and moved forward. I had pulled forward enough for dreamy boyfriend to pull in. As I pressed on the brakes, the car didn't stop.

I panicked and slammed on the 'other' pedal thinking I had my foot on the wrong pedal. I did not. The car quickly accererated and slammed into the garage. (I had been used to the Blue Beast's amazing ability to quickly stop as my foot commanded it to stop.)

So of course, the car didn't just hit the garage. The garage door fell from it's hinges onto the two cars parked inside of the garage.

Then, the garage collaped onto the two cars in the driveway. One of the cars inside of the garage did not have its parking brake engaged. That car crashed through the other side of the garage.

I was frozen in fear. I prayed that this was just a dream....

My mom on the left, Aunt on the right

My dad took an hour long walk. I'm not even sure he spoke to me that night.

Dreamy boyfriend stuck around for a while, but I never did get a raincheck on that date.

I worked for a long time paying for the deductibles on my aunt's and parent's insurances as well as the house insurance deductible....I think they helped out... Unfortunately, this was not at all the last accident I had that year...and this was in October.


Next in my driving history: The left arrows aren't just there for variety..

The Blue Beast

Upon reading my next posting, two, or three (depending on how I decide to split these stories up); don't be inclined to avoid me while driving. I assure you my driving skills have improved much in the past ten years or so. It was the first five ... six... or seven (give or take) driving years that I consider to be the "crash test dummy" years. My parents, in their infinite wisdom, must have known that I would first need an armored car. They graciously allowed me to borrow theirs (which was the next best thing to a Panzer or an Abrams). Here, I present to you, a picture of my first car:

1985 Chevrolet Caprice: Next best thing to a Panzer

I actually remember when my parents first bought this car. My brother and I thought it was the coolest thing ever that it had power windows. We would sit in our seats as calmly as possible, start to roll down the window, and glance over at the cars next to us so they could see us as our window rolled down effortlessly as if to say, no, those kids are NOT writhing back and forth vigorously in an effort to turn the window down, they have power windows. I think my favorite thing was to ask the people in the car next to us if they had any Grey Poupon. Remember those commercials? 

So Choice

The car served my parents well for the next 7 or 8 years...until I was licensed...that's when I decided to do other families all over the world a favor and test out the safety ratings on the car, and the blue beast learned its place in the world...

P.S. The 1985 Chevy Classic is a very safe car in an accident!!!


Coming up next: Attack of the Killer Garage

A glimpse into a typical morning...

How my Knee Surgery Solved our Defense Weapon's Budget Crisis

While recovering from an ACL (in the knee) surgery a few years ago, I learned that I with a simple brace and crutches, you have the privilege of getting unsolicited stories and advice from all kinds of people! I don't know how I could ever have survived this surgery without all of the wonderful advice from strangers... I was approached numerous times a day with well wishers, nosey people, and best of all... the one up-pers.... You know, the people who always have a story to counter yours? As I reminisce on this wonderful life experience, I would like to share some of the most memorable people from my knee-surgery journey.

My knee is WORST than yours!
I met a man at a children's birthday party-recognizing my brace he tells me that he, too recently had knee surgery...oh, but his is much worse. HIS doctor wheeled him to his car without any brace, crutches, OR pain medication. I was like, "really! wo-ow, you are so brave, tell me more!" *playfully bats eyes*

Grandma's Meth Support Group
My waitress for breakfast one morning asked me about my knee and promptly tells me of her son's accident when he cracked his patella. I'm not sure what happened to him but I'm guessing it involved meth. She relates this story to her grandchildren. Apparently, one day she was cooking for her daughter in law and she asked for a light. Sure, she says, and she goes to the back room to find her doing meth(trust me this was much longer in person). So grandma ever-so couragously scoops up all three grandkids and has been taking care of them ever since. She goes on to tell me that she couldn't support them on her $3.75/hr salary. (more tip, anyone?)

Oh, but the good news? Meth is an epidemic and there are support groups for these grannies who have to take care of meth parent's kids!

Mystery of the Missing Crutch
After a few weeks I only needed to use one crutch. I walked out of Target and some random man stops his vehicle to ask me if I am missing a crutch...ummmm....did you find a single crutch recently...or do you regularly carry around a spare? Why are you asking me this? Like all of a sudden I'm gonna be like, " NO WAY! I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE! NO WONDER MY KNEE HURTS!!! THANKS SO MUCH, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!"

ORTHROSCOPY?!?!
I was walking to my hotel after a very long drive. A man scared me to death by jumping out of nowhere like Spiderman or something and blurts out, "ORTHOROSCOPY?!?!" Thrown off, I blankly stare at him for a moment and mumble, "uh no, ACL reconstruction" and continued walking.

Insistent, he points to his knee dramatically and says, "Have to get orthroscopy in a couple 'a weeks." I look at his knee and it is TOTALLY gross. Seriously. That image is engrained in my memory forever. Luckily, you get my crappy powerpoint drawing of it.

Crappy drawing of a really ugly knee. I assure you it was very disgusting.

An Army of Gymnasts
A woman in the mall stops to ask me what happened and tells me that her daughter, too, had ACL reconstruction. She asked how I did it, and I told her it was during an Army obstacle course. "OH, SAME THING!" she says... "yeah, she was doing a triple super duper flip (some gymnastics thing) and landed wrong." umm, what? Last time I checked, we weren't going to war kicking enemy booty with our super duper flips... or could we?

The day hide and seek lost its charm

When I was about 11 my family had just moved to Germany and were staying in a hotel. My brother Dennis and I were sleeping in the room next to our parent's room. We were bored and decided to play hide-and-seek. It was rare at our ages (11 and 16) that he would want to play anything with me at all. I thought he finally deemed my 'cool enough' and I was 'in' with my brother. This was going to be awesome.

After a few rounds of the game, it was my turn to hide again. I found the perfect spot. He would NEVER have found me. My spot was in the cabinets coming down from the ceiling. It would seem a 12 year old would never fit into such and awkward and small space. Even being on the small side of 12 I had to contort myself into this cabinet. It was the most perfect hiding spot in the history of hide-and-seek. I was giggling the entire time I climbed up there.

As each minute passed, I commended myself on a job well done. I was awesome. He could not find me.

More time elapsed..

More time...okay, better take it easy on him. I started to make noises so he could 'find' me and noted to myself that later I would taunt him with the fact that I had to 'help' him find me.

I fell asleep. I woke up with uncomfortable pains in my body.

I had to get down. I wondered if my brother had gotten lost trying to find me. I felt terrible and imagined horrible scenarios as I walked the hallways of the hotel and tried to find my dear brother. What if he got lost? Did he tell my parents that he couldn't find me and now they were out looking for me? My kick ass hiding spot was soo going to get me in trouble.

Eventually I gave up and went to bed.

Early the next morning Dennis came back. He gloated as he told me that had gone out and went to the festival that was open a few blocks from our hotel. He USED me to go eat schnitzel and doner and over sized cookies (lebkuchen). He probably even danced with poodles. If you don't get the poodle reference go here: http://www.youtube.com/user/djflula#p/f/0/nxKivzjCFNg

And that is the day that hide and seek lost its charm.

Boob assault

When you are showering or changing at the gym, there are a few things you should remember:

Not everyone is as comfortable with your body as you are. Now, I realize that I am probably overly neurotic when it comes to covering up my body as I enter/exit the showering area. I put the towel over my body prior to taking off any undergarments. I put undergarments on while balancing my towel. *This can be pretty tricky and often involves holding towel with teeth.

Okay, it is one thing to throw the towel off in your naked glory to begin dressing yourself. It is quite another to walk around the locker room naked, have lengthy conversations, put on your make-up, blow dry your hair, and stretch out a little more after your workout. Remember that Seinfeld where he describes 'good naked, bad naked?' The previous examples I have described are all bad nakeds. They violate those around you. It is very difficult to have a conversation with a naked person whilst their pubes are braiding themselves in front of you. (okay not really, but I have an active imagination)


Added bonus: You can assure that your make-up compliments your outfit and not get makeup on your shirt while putting it on!

Not everyone wants to know whether or not the carpet matches the drapes. Enough said.

When naked, your personal bubble and all others around you gets notably larger. Again, I realize that I am weird and probably have a large personal bubble to begin with; but it is very bad etiquette to start getting dressed right next to someone else when there are plenty of other spots available for your dressing pleasure.

Don't ever touch anyone with any body part of yours, not even to shake hands, while either of you are naked. I once was assaulted by a woman's boob. Seriously. She was violating all of the rules above when she swiftly turned in my direction. It was horrible. I felt like I was in a war movie when the music gets all dramatic and it's in slow-mo and I could see the boob coming but I couldn't do anything to stop it because life really doesn't go in slow motion. It was a large boob. *shudder* I think I may suffer PTSD from this boob-slap to my arm. It was terrifying. I need time to rest now.

Okay, I forgot about this one. I was about 8 or 9 and I was in a swimming pool locker room. I was getting ready for the pool as this woman props her leg up on the bench I was sitting on and does what? She commences to shave her southern region. Yes. Shaves it. In the middle of a locker room. In front of small children. Okay, that is all.