Caffeine Induced Ramblings: Read At Your Own Risk

Oh, hey. 

You know that new movie, Brave? I've seen it twice in the past week and I think I love it. Something about a movie portraying an independent girl who wants to have a good relationship with her family and does not want or need a man is refreshing. There was no lead male character, which I found very relieving. I always feel weird having a crush on a lead male character in an animated film because he's not a real person...although I've had a crush on Flynn Rider for the longest time (from Tangled) and I almost met him in Disney World last year. Unfortunately the actor who played Flynn was fired so my illusion was dashed and I was back to crushing on a non-existent animated character. Anyway, I'm listening to the Brave soundtrack and being inspired at this very moment. I would encourage you to go listen to it, because it's like a tiny bit of Scotland right here on my computer. 


It's 12:43 AM and I'm awake like it's 12:43 PM. Let me explain why. I had a long day at work. Usually I enjoy daytime shifts at my beloved Chick-fil-A, but unfortunately this shift was miserable. For starters, it was 103 degrees outside. People wandered in from going to the beach or coming back from the beach or just trying to get away from their homes that had lost power. Nobody responded enthusiastically to my "So how has your day been?" question (one man actually didn't answer at all) which made me feel less than appreciated and lessened the cheerfulness of the multiple times I said "my pleasure" throughout the day. So, feeling rather dejected, I got off of work and drove home. But not before getting too much food to devour at home. And a large Dr. Pepper. Phase 1 of my day full of caffeine. 


Then, at the fundraising concert my church hosted tonight, I decided to buy a Coke. Phase 2 of my day full of caffeine. 


Then, at the same fundraising concert my church hosted tonight, I decided to buy some iced coffee. Phase 3 of my day full of caffeine. 


Then, when I got home from the fundraising concert my church hosted tonight, I felt the need to drink a Diet Coke. Phase 4 of my day full of caffeine. 


So, besides the fact that my teeth are probably in the process of rotting and will more than likely fall out by the time morning comes (oh wait, morning's already here...) and the fact that I feel like I'll never sleep again, I would recommend this Four Phase process of drinking too much caffeine. 


Honestly, I'm not even sure what I'm writing about right now. I'm half asleep and my eyes are being forced open by the gallons of caffeine inside of me right now. If I wake up tomorrow morning (assuming I go to sleep) and re-read this and wonder what on earth I was thinking, I will delete it. If I read it and realize what a brilliant piece of literature I've created, I shall keep it. And that, my dear friends, is all I'm going to say. 


Except that today my co-worker at Chick-fil-A said something funny. We were both working in the window and a lady came through with a dog in the passenger seat. He was like, "Your dog looks very nice." and that was that. I laughed and made fun of him a little bit and so the next lady who drove up with a dog in her passenger seat got a few smiles from us as we enjoyed our inside joke. Then, out of the blue, my co-worker goes, "Well. That's a nice looking dog you've got there." And it was awkward and hilarious and 103 degrees and I died laughing. Probably because the dog was a pug. 

Love, Christie

There And Back Again: A Kari-and-Christie-Getting-Lost-In-The-City Tale

Dear Friends, 

I told you on Facebook that I would explain why it took Kari (she's my baby sister, for those of you who don't know. I love blogging because it gives me the freedom to call her my "baby sister" even though she's approximately 7 feet taller than me) and me two hours to make it home from the river yesterday. I told me coworker the story today and all she said was "Girl, it's just Richmond. How on earth do you get lost in this tiny little city?" And I would like to say right now that since this experience, I've asked myself the same question many times. I would also like to say that this adventure opened my eyes to the many different kinds of people who live in Richmond. The nice ones, the not-so-nice ones, etc, etc. So here we go. I hope you read it all, but if you don't...then just pretend you did. 


Kari texted me when I was out and said: "Hey, want to go to the river tomorrow?" Immediately I knew what my answer was ("YES!") because so far my summer had consisted of working, catching up on Pretty Little Liars, working, and watching the Bachelorette. And working. My tan was sadly lacking and I was going through water-and-sand-and-swimsuit-and-sunscreen-and-basically-everything-summer-should-be withdrawal. So off to the river we went. We made to the parking lot and, towels in hand, made our way down to the lovely little beach beneath the train tracks. We put our stuff down in the sun, went for a swim, and decided to lay out for a while, looking very too-cool-for-you in our shades. We spent about an hour and half there because I had plans that night, and as we ambled over to my car, we realized something very disturbing. A massive golden truck had parked directly behind us, leaving no room for me to back out. Okay, so maybe he wasn't directly behind us, but for someone with my driving skills and minimum amount of patience, he was pretty much directly behind us. I couldn't believe it. As we got into my car, I tried and tried to back out...to no avail. A kind Korean man came to rescue us, and directed me out. I had almost made it, when he shrugged and said: "This no good. You not make it. Sorry!" and wandered off. So, with "Call Me Maybe" playing mournfully in the background, Kari and I sat in my car, trying to hold back tears. We would be stuck in the parking lot under the train tracks forever. Then, as if sent from the Lord, a red truck pulled up behind us. "Hey!" a man covered in tattoos with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth yelled, giving a chin up. "I could drive it and get it out for you!" His girlfriend, also with a cigarette and too many piercings to count, nodded in agreement. I shot out of my car like a bullet and gave a heartfelt grin while saying, "You can give it a try, I think that it's impossible though!" He snorted and parked a little ways down the lot. One thing everyone should know about boys - if there's a challenge, they're up for it. With my (ah, pretty limited) experience with boyfriends and my (pretty vast) knowledge of my brother and my father, they will conquer the challenge and they will win. So of course, I handed my little set of keys to the guy and stepped back. He rolled down the window and started to back out, but not before shouting: "You got my back, baby?!" to his girlfriend, who was behind the car, making sure he wouldn't run into anything. "I got you, baby, we can do this!" is what she shouted back affirmatively. With his girlfriend directing in the back, and Kari directing in the front, and me watching in great admiration and awe, he backed out my car safely. "You know, I can't believe somebody would park so close," He said, throwing his cigarette onto the ground and squishing it with his heel. "Some people don't give a (insert profane word) about other people." Many profane words later, his rant ended, and I realized how kind he and his girlfriend were. I thanked them profusely and Kari and I were on our way. I'm kind of tired of writing now, actually, but know this. Kari and I drove up and down the same streets for another hour. We got gas at a sketchy 7-Eleven and I paid in cash and made conversation with a guy who's pants were essentially on the ground and his shirt down to his knees, as well as a girl who had purple hair and piercings covering her face. We finally made it home, after yelling at each other, laughing with each other, crying with each other, and eating loads of McDonald's with each other. To this day, we blame Dad for his direction giving skills, but that's just because it's always nice to shift blame. Also, here's a life lesson for you all: Don't judge someone by how they look. The unlikeliest looking people will be the ones to save the day if you give them the benefit of the doubt. Life would be a lot better if we'd look beneath the surface and give everybody an equal chance. Now that I've written too much and preached a little, I'm going to bid you all farewell. So, uh, farewell. 


Also, I'm still as white as ever, save a killer sunburn on the back of my legs. 

Me and Kari before our great adventure

Love, Christie

My More Somber, Sad, and Serious Ruminations [[written last night]]

Hey guys.

Our power has been out for a day and half now. I’ve been out of the house so much I’ve barely noticed but tonight when I got home, my phone was dead and no lights were on and I didn’t know what to do. For a minute, I felt like I was one of the most unfortunate people in all of Richmond – what on earth were my friends going to do without me to text them? How would I talk on the phone if it was dead? And I really wanted a pizza, too. How was I supposed to eat a pizza without an oven to cook it? For just a minute, I really thought nothing could be worse. On my way home to this terrible, powerless, catastrophe of a situation, I stopped at a stop light. I hate stop lights. Like, when I’m driving, I strongly believe that all the lights that I come across should suddenly turn to green. Anyways, I was at a stop light. There was a homeless man sitting there on the median, with a sign that said “PLEASE HELP AND GOD BLESS” and it was written on a little scrap of cardboard. He didn’t look much different that the homeless man I see on the way to work every day, or the one that sometimes sits on the corner when I go to church, but this time was different. I was awkwardly in my car with air conditioning and loud music blaring, thinking I was the coolest kid around in my sundress and braided hair. I told myself that lots of other people probably gave this man money and I only had four dollars and that could get me a milkshake at Chick-fil-A! But then I found myself counting out the quarters and dollar bills and rolling down my window and saying, “I only have four dollars” and “I’m so sorry” when a few of the quarters fell onto the street when they slipped from my hand to his. I got a close up look at him, and he was probably only five years older than me. He kept repeating “thank you” and the look on his face and in his eyes when I first rolled down my window broke my heart. It was so eager and hopeful and thankful and human. Behind the scraggly beard and knotted hair and old clothes is a young man who, in a different situation, could have been a friend to any one of us. I drive past homeless people every day and I divert my eyes to avoid feeling guilty. I get angry when I hit a red light and have to wait two minutes for my turn. My phone dies and I’m not sure how I’m going to make it without constantly talking to my friends. My car has a dent (or two, three…four?) in it, I actually have to work in order to get money, my house isn’t as big as some of my friends’ houses. But I have a car, I have a job, and I have a house. I know this sounds lame and cliché and not nearly as laugh-out-loud hilarious as my previous blog posts, but I’ve realized tonight that we’re fortunate in so many ways. Something about a young man with bright blue eyes on his hands and knees scooping up quarters from the side of the road breaks my heart. Why, if we’re healthy people living in a house with more than enough food to eat, are we not helping people who don’t have what we have? It’s made me kind of ashamed, but more hopeful. What if we all did decide to help? Not necessarily handing out money to homeless people, but looking around and seeing someone who needs a friend or food for the next day or a place to sleep for the night could change lives. And it’s crazy to think that we’re too wrapped up waiting for things to happen to change our already good lives that we don’t notice we can be that change for other people. I guess this abnormally dark house and quiet phone has got me thinking about some things – I hope you got something out of this!

Love, Christie

Lucky Charms & Summer & That's About It

Hey kids!

I'm not sure what to write. I have thousands of amusing Chick-fil-A stories that I could share, I have an inspirational paragraph I could write about how I feel like I'm actually going somewhere in life, I could comment on the various flaws of society...but I think I'm going to stick to one simple thing: I'm so glad I'm not in high school anymore. You know in those movies, when the main character has everything going right for him? Like in 500 Days of Summer, when Joseph Gordon-Levitt (a.k.a my fiance) finally gets the girl of his dreams and he smiles and the sun is shining and he dances? Don't tell anyone he's my fiance or they'll all get super sad, then jealous, then angry and end up unfriending me on Facebook, and is there anything more insulting than that? Anyway, they wake up in the morning and do a stereotypical good-morning-my-life-is-perfect stretch. I did one of those this morning. I woke up and there was sun shining through my window and for a fleeting moment, I thought I had to get up for school and a little piece of my soul kind of crashed and burned. Then I remembered - high school was over forever! That little piece of my soul was resurrected and I realized that all I wanted to do was eat a bowl of Lucky Charms and relish my freedom from my previous high school existence that gave me a constant headache. I had Lucky Charms for dinner tonight, too. And the night before. I think since the only cereal Mom got us in our childhood was Cheerios and Raisin Bran, I'm just going a little crazy. And let's face it - Lucky Charms will most definitely be in heaven because they are heavenly. Anyways, for those of you who feel like your lives are amounting to nothing and you wish things would work out, have some Lucky Charms and remember what you felt like when you graduated from high school. Possibilites were endless and you had your whole life ahead of you and you never, ever had to wear a school uniform again. Although in a weird way I was grateful for those uniforms because I didn't have to go through the agony of deciding what to wear every day. They did tend to make the super pretty people even prettier and other people less pretty, though. Rant over. As much fun as this has been, my super precious non-existent crowd, I'm going to go catch up on How I Met Your Mother now. Neil Patrick Harris is a freaking boss. I've also been watching How I Met Your Mother for a few hours so I currently feel like he's my best friend. Yes, my friends, post high school life is sweet. I'll blog later about all the great things I plan to do next year or how freakishly strange it is that I'm not tired of Chick-fil-A food yet, after working there for nearly two years. Isn't that strange? I'm leaving now.

Love, Christie

Dear Friends,
This being my very first full day as a blogger, I've decided to take it upon myself to post something substantial on my uber-intriguing blog. I racked my brain and attempted to think of something truly life-changing that I've done in the past few days, and I came up with nothing. Primarily because all I've done in the past few days is inhale food, watch Lord of the Rings, and sleep. So then I decided it was time to share with all of you non-existent readers that my favorite state is Kentucky and I am going to explain why (no, it's not because of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Okay fine, maybe that has something to do with it). One day my mother and I were driving through West Virginia. For those of you who have never been to West Virginia, I'm not sure you're aware of how lucky you are. Once you cross the state line, a kind of depression settles in the car and all you really want to do is turn around and go home. If you stay strong and don't turn around and go home, you're in danger of dying with absolute boredom because that state is never ending. The gray grass that looks as if it wishes it were green grows in little patches and the trees look as if they wish they were in any state but West Virginia. I didn't see any animals but squirrels, and that's probably because none live there. As far as people were concerned, well...I didn't see many. It is a truly miserable state. Anyways, we finally made it out of West Virginia. As soon as we crossed the state border, the brilliant state of Kentucky greeted us. Green grass that looked entirely too happy to be green and trees who looked genuinely happy to be there welcomed us with open arms and endless farmland and beauty made me never want to leave. We stopped at a gas station and it was the loveliest gas station I'd ever been to. I'm fairly certain that everything in Kentucky is perfect and one day I will live there.

Also, one time I had a date with a boy and it was a depressing one-the kind where he kisses you and then tells you that "really, we're just friends"-so, despondent, I drove home. Much like my experience with West Virginia and Kentucky, I was driving along Broad Street and BAM! There was a Kentucky Fried Chicken! So I went through the drive through and ordered fried chicken and brought it home and my sister and I devoured it while discussing the idiocy of high school boys. These are just two reasons why Kentucky is my favorite state.

Please tell me I did not just publish a blog post about Kentucky.

Love, Christie

Because I can't really pull off leaping across the beach while holding balloons this summer, I've decided to give a blog a shot instead. You only live once, after all...and what's life without a blog? Read it and weep, kids. More posts to come - lucky you! Love, Christie

Dear Friends, 

I've decided that I talk too much, so I might as well start a blog and write about the meaning of life and other ideas that haunt my thoughts so that I can relieve you all of listening to my ramblings. Despite this, my blog creation is more for my benefit than yours. I feel like an artsy hipster with a lonely blog, and who doesn't want to feel like a hipster these days? So, non-existent readers, welcome to my blog that will undoubtedly become viral and you won't be able to say that you "read it before it was cool". Either that or it will soon be forgotten like my many journals stowed away somewhere in my room. Preferably the former. I promise my next posts will be more amusing, thought-provoking, and brilliant than this one. See you around. 

Love, Christie