Spilled Coffee and Awesome Shirts

They say you shouldn't cry over spilled milk, but does the same principle hold true for spilled coffee? I mean, coffee is second only to crude oil as far as trading commodities go, so I should think that if one, in theory, could cry over spilled milk that one would utterly bawl over spilled coffee. In addition, one can drink coffee with milk, but also without it, making milk a mere efficacy that essentially glorifies coffee, not the other way around. Of course, one could make the "vice-versa" argument, but really, who drinks their milk with coffee?? That notion simply shames reason.

Anyway, though I wouldn't normally cry over spilled coffee, today I had experience that showed capabilities to create certain circumstances that could prove to have been unpleasant, though in all likely-hood, not worth tears. Here is what happened:

It was 8:55 of the clock, and I was driving my 2005 Hyundai Tuscon to school. Coffee in one hand, steering wheel in the other, I was happily listening to tobyMac on the radio. Okay, I'll admit, I might've been actively listening to tobyMac, which goes to say I may have been singing along... 

*facepalm* You can see where this is going, right? So of course I would spill coffee all over my pants five minutes before my 9 of the clock history class was to start. 

Peanut Gallery Detour: Of the clock is actually the spelled out contraction of o'clock.  Back in the day, My English teacher would demand that his students spell out all contractions (e.i can't-->cannot, wouldn't-->would not, ext.), save one. He thought it impractical and unnecessary to spell out the contraction "o'clock," and thus premised us to use this contraction. I, however, happen to like spelling out this contraction especially well. So anyway...

Epic humility lesson in the making right? Absolutely shocked as the coffee was hot-leaning-scalding, I took in the developments quite calmly, as I managed to keep the car on the road. Letting out a deep breath, I anxiously looked down at my pants, though I knew what I was to find. Amusingly enough (now), the coffee had spared all but one area. Without going into grave details, it appeared that I had had a rather unfortunate accident; one that was the upshot of coffee consumed, instead of coffee spilled.

In other words, it looked like I had wet myself.

I slumped in my seat, unnerved. Great, I thought, that's all I need. Looking at the clock, I realized that a return to the house was not an option, as it was now 8:56 of the clock. Swallowing my pride as I had no more coffee left swallow, I realized that I had already arrived at the college anyway. I was doomed. Parking my car in a secluded corner, I unloaded and upon standing upright, examined the spot in the more natural light of the sun. Yep, I was doomed. Without a word, I grabbed my book-bag, and attempting to console myself, I repeated in my head, It doesn’t matter, I’m here to learn; just focus on learning AND DON”T MAKE EYE CONTACT!!

I had been fortunate enough to have not met anyone along my journey to my classroom, so upon arriving at the classroom door, I paused and took a deep breath. Looking down once more and wincing because I was doomed,  I walked through the doors. My teacher was just setting herself up to teach when I walked through the doors, allowing me for the collective attention of the classroom. I wore a faked smile, and made my way down to the back row, attempting to look "non-chalant." “Nice shirt,” some guy said as I walked past. Huh? I sat down, and the girl I had chosen to sit next to said warmly, “wow, I love your shirt!” “Thanks!” I said, delightedly stunned. I looked down at my shirt. In all my worrying, I had forgotten that I had worn my favorite “nerd” shirt. Ah, this is looking up, I thought happily. Yes, I had lost some very good coffee along the way but, hey, I was alive, right?

So, of course it only makes sense that after all my worrying about my pants, my shirt would be the thing that received the attention.

Logical Explanation? I have several:

So maybe my shirt was just so awesome that it drew all attention away from my pants by sheer virtue. I mean, it is pretty awesome :D 
Or maybe everyone was just so eager to avert impending awkwardness, they actively complimented my shirt so as to draw attention away from my pants. Mmm, not as flattering, no but yes, that could be it. 
*gasp* Maybe the two complimenters were the only ones out of thirty who were actually paying attention to my shirt. Hhmm, the odds at this point aren't looking that great.

Mmm, or maybe I'm just making a big deal out of this...

Anyway, the moral of this story is that you shouldn’t cry over spilled coffee…

…especially if you’re wearing a totally awesome shirt like me :-)

[Mis]Adventures with My Little Blonde Girl

*sigh* (instant heartmelt)

    So…my little blonde girl. Her name is Abella though everyone just calls her Bella. She has beautiful blonde hair that always seems to 'go rouge' even under the most deterring restraints. She is the cutest chick that I have ever seen….aaaaand she is two-years-old (she's my little sister). Anyway, I will randomly record thoughts and reflections, as well as funny moments inspired by our actual misadventures. Here we go:


This morning, from the general direction of our sporadic dining table, I heard a cry of disturbance. Abandoning my coffee and rushing to the source of the scream, I deduced that it was my little sister Bella, who was pointing distantly at a spot on the floor. Following her laser-accurate-finger, I realized, to my relief, that nothing extremely terrible, certainly, at least, nothing worth the scream, had taken place. Instead, I discovered, after a minute of keen visualizational effort, that there was a small ant underneath the table, lying motionless; apparently dead. Immediately, I was amazed at her keen eyesight as this ant was merely a rather small discoloration in our dark-grouted-tile-floor. In addition, the hapless ant had ventured onto our busy kitchen floor, the result in evidence as it had been skooshed; his well-earned doom.
My little Bella is emotionally intolerant of bugs or any type of creepy crawly being in general; I'm pretty sure Chewbacca would have similar affects on her :P

Peanut Gallery Detour: Emotionally Intolerant is my way of saying scared, or afraid of. When I say, "emotionally intolerant," I am basically using unnecessarily-large words to create a euphemism, which is to say that I am feeling rather special at the moment (my favorite word is 'sesquipedalianistic,' whose dictionary definition is a word containing liberal amounts of syllables, or, aka…a big word).

Putting my previous fears on hold, I began to console my little sister, as she was losing her sanity. "Ah, I see. It's okay darling," I said in my most soothing voice, "its…not a bug."

Yes, I was lying to her, but I realized that my actions over the course of the next five minutes, if chosen strategically, could restore sanity to the kitchen, and thus me. If chosen haphazardly, the situation's dire features would simply amplify, which was a route I wanted to avoid since I was running late. Her facial features instantly morphed into one of indignant disbelief, and she placed her hands on her hips and glared at me. "It's a bug," she retaliated.

*gulp*

She wasn't buying it. Sensing my plan was in danger of epic failure, I cast a pleading look to my other blonde sister (Kate), who had been watching the developments; simply amused. She responded immediately, crouching down underneath the table, as she was soothingly talking to Bella—"it's alright Bell, it's just a—" at this point my sister had prodded the dead ant with her finger and instantly recoiled. "Eeeew, it is a bug" she concluded helpfully. I cast her a dark-glare and found, upon returning my attention to her, that Bella trusted Kate over me. "Now, now Bella," I began, "it may be a bug, but its dead now. It can't hurt you." Having none of it, she insisted, "Take it away outside please."

Her proposal spelled one word for me:

inconvenience. "Dear [Bella], Adam will sweep it up later, okay?" I pleaded.

"No, uh, right now take it outsiiiide," she spelled out with her lips.

*facepalm* "Look Bella," I said attempting to kick it away with my foot, "Sit down and eat your—" She gasped as soon as my foot began scooting it across the floor. Kate, trying to redeem herself, flicked the ant out of the doorway, eliminating our problem…at least for the moment. Bella, uneasy about our "solution," grudgingly sat back down in her chair to resume eating.

I left, but was summoned again a few minutes later as my little sister had located the ant's mangled corpse once again.

*sigh*

"Alright Bella, stop that. That's quite enough," I said permanently eliminating the problem with my foot, "It's gone for good now." I looked at her, and in turn, she looked down at the spot with her hands again in a position of scrutiny on her hips. Not able to locate the 'beast,' she held her hands up in an inquirative shrug, asking, "Where did it go to?" Picking her up (buying time), I blurted, "Ca…CandyLand." I closed my eyes. Why did I say that? Opening my eyes, I saw that my little benevolent had digested this answer quite well, and that her little heart was at last at ease. I quickly decided I would stick with my answer, as I cuddled her in my arms. "Let's go find some candy," I said, thrilled as her eyes lit up with joy. "Okay," she said, smiling...