Road Rage and Marriage Proposals.

Anyone of you who have actually driven with me know that I have a tendency towards expressing my anger audibly when dealing with moronic driving. Luckily for the general public, I purchased a fancy new car and have been keeping my rage in check so as to not injure my new toy. Yet lately I have been completely unable to control my angst towards crappy drivers. Things began to go poorly after a semi-recent encounter with the Cowardly Lioness.

While minding my own business in the turning lane to Vermont Gas on Shelburne Road I suddenly notice something terrifying – reverse lights. Before I can even react some imbecile in a jacked up subaru has sent her car flying BACKWARDS down a lane in which everyone is at a stand still. I’m sorry, WHAT THE FUCK?! Hello?!?!?! This individual hits me with enough force to shove my car about a foot backwards, leaving a good amount of my oh-so-expensive snow tires on the pavement so needless to say, I am not pleased. As I begin to get out of my car, complete with my “WTF” hands a terrifying creature emerges from the subaru. A creature which can only be described as the Cowardly Lioness.



This woman had the most intense curled, bleached, teased hair I have ever witnessed in real life. It was like the 80s on crack had taken over her head. Literally a halo of crazy. To make everything even more terrifying, her eyes were ringed with at least two inches of navy eyeliner topped with roughly five layers of bright blue eye makeup accented by black lip-liner and a an intensely bright red lipstick. I quite seriously thought that the Wizard of Oz had landed right in my lap.

Before I can even react the Lioness is back in her subaru, fleeing the scene through a red light and hopping on to the interstate as if nothing had happened. Um…… Next thing I know I’m stuck explaining to the officer who showed up what exactly happened. When asked if I saw the person who was driving the vehicle, my response was “Well….she sort of looked like….um….the….Cowardly Lion?” Pretty sure I have never recieved such a judgemental look in all my life. Pfffft.


Ever since this little hit and run life has been increasingly awkward. Here are the highlights:

– While walking down the stairs after grabbing some much needed starbucks, I manage to encounter an older gentleman who was most certainly homeless and missing most of his teeth. He offered me what most women only dream of – marriage. His opener, “Youuuu are sooo beautifuuuul to meeee,” and yes it was sung. It was then followed by this wonderful promise, “I can make you so happy, fufill your richest desires. Just give me your love and home…” Wow, with offers like this, who can believe I’m still single?

– I would like to think it takes a certain skill to pull off this next move. Since my driveway has turned into a sheet of sheer ice, walking to my car has become more like ice skating towards my car. While attempting to manuver to my car the other day I managed to get one foot in the door and then before I could scoot in, the other one shot out from under with me with alarming speed. Next thing I know I have high-kicked one of my legs into my roof and my entire left leg is tucked nicely under the car’s undercarriage all ending in the most intense split action of my life. Managing to wiggle myself out of this situation was certainly enjoyable for the individuals next door.

– While deep in thought, reading my grocerry list at shaws, I suddenly realized I forgot eggs and whirled around quickly to get them. Naturaly I did this without looking and managed to body slam an entire rack of day old cupcakes, cakes, cookies, and other fat kid products. Right as I look up from this caloric temple I’ve made for myself I see one of the hot produce guys giving me a look filled with tude as he walks away. Who wouldn’t want to date a woman who hoards day old baked goods around her feet?

-2012 has been a great year so far, starting off with the flu and an eye infection that has left me stuck wearing my glasses for about 3 weeks. These so called glasses are 5 years old, sporting an outdated perscription, covered in scratches, and stretched out. On top of all that I have no peripheral vision in them what-so-ever. While walking across the street the other day I whipped my head a little to quick trying to scout out whether I could cross the street or not and sent my glasses flying off my face and clattering onto the street. In typical fashion I managed to cause a small traffic back up while down on all fours attempting to locate the missing pieces of junk. Don’t mind me upity drivers honking loudly, just trying to see over here. NBD.


The Breakdown…Mental Breakdown That Is.

In the past month or so the level of awkward in my life has shot through the roof. Here’s the breakdown –

– While walking through the mall the other day on my break I quite obviously checked out some young male specimens. Thinking I was simply checking out some hot young college boys, I looked back to find their MOMS staring me down. Apparently I have lost all ability to accurately determine age and was eyeing some high school kids. NBD. Best part? When I made eye contact with the moms one of them was scowling and the other winked. I’m sorry, did you just wink at this lecherous college grad who just checked out your practically prepubescent son??

– When people ask me why I am single I’ve decided to refer them to this gem of a moment in my life. The other weekend while walking home in a pair of heels, a young college kid in a frat hoodie leaned out the side of his car and screamed, “CLICK CLACK, LET ME HIT IT FROM THE BACK!!!” Tragically this modern day Shakespearean sonnet did not sweep me off my feet and I returned home alone. Since these appear to be the only people I attract, this ladies and gentleman is why I am single. Mystery solved. I’m now going to adopt my first of many cats since my future dictates that I will be a creepy old woman with numerous cats.

– This weekend while wearing some new shoes I acquired some severe blisters upon the back of my feet. Due to this I’ve been wearing shoes slightly too big for me the whole week to alleviate the pain. Side-eye me all you want but the shoes were cute and the Absolut numbed the pain. So while hiking myself up the hill the other day from my eye appt, said slightly-to-large shoe slipped off the back of my heel sending me into a scuttling, tripping, slipping sort of motion. In my natural instincts I grabbed out for the nearest item to steady myself. This happened to be a parking meter which I entwined myself with. As I am hanging onto this meter, in what I am sure is a very seductive pose, I look up to make eye contact with an old group-project partner from UVM. Oh excellent. As I’m wrenching my eyes away and detangling myself from the meter he touches my arm and goes, “Amber?” My response? Pfffffttttt! No, you clearly have the wrong person.” At which point I grab my shoe and hustle up the hill cursing my life.

– After receiving some particularly fabulous news I lost myself in the moment when Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” came on my iPod in the car. By losing myself I mean full on car dancing and singing into my Starbucks cup enthusiastically. While deep into the chorus on a especially aggressive head swing to the left I notice an entire mini-van of small children staring at me and pointing. Further inspection revealed their parents, who by the way appeared to be my age -get a chastity belt- laughing hysterically at me. Leave a girl alone when she’s enjoying her 80s.

Alice in Trippyland

So I went and attended the premier of Alice in Wonderland. Naturally everyone there would be on some sort of mind-altering substance so should anything awkward strike, I would most definitely not stick out right? Wrong. Oh so so wrong.

Naturally the show was sold out and we hovered in the parking lot too long. By the time we reached the theater the only seats available were scattered conveniently between the most outrageous and intriguing people the area has to offer. Our group thought we miraculously spotted enough seats and made our way to the small section which was naturally pinned up against the wall of the theater. After I have myself seated and settled in we realize that we are one seat short. Typical, completely typical. After much debating and whining the girl behind us offers to swap rows since she has enough seats.

I eye the long line of people I will have to straddle to maneuver my way out of the row. I decide there are far too many individuals and I am not interested in squeezing past them, trying to make sure my butt doesn’t hit their face while I continually say, “Sorry, excuse me…oops sorry. Excuse me.” So I get the genius notion to climb over the seat. It all seemed simple enough. My legs are extremely long and I should have no problem just popping over the seat into the other row. This will definitely be easier then going down the line. What I forgot was my complete and utter ability to balance and the fact that my jeans had come straight out of the dryer and I hadn’t had the chance to do that awkward squat-scuttle walk that stretches them out so you can actually move around like a normal person.

Completely oblivious to these glaring facts of my ineptitude I pop up onto the seat. As I hovered there part of my brain, the small sane part, began to ask, “Um excuse me what are you doing. You are already wobbling. Get down. This can only end badly.” I was already on top of the seat though, clearly there was no backing out now.

I made the ultimate mistake of lifting my back foot off of the seat and it went into clam mode completely snapping shut. In the course of this motion my entire leg falls through, my foot hits something slippery on the floor and continues to slide down the slanted floor and in the end my arms are above my head, my face is buried in a gross theater seat and my free leg is thrust upward and backward into the next row narrowly missing another individuals head.

Luckily the individual in front of me was well into his trip in preparation for Burton’s Wonderland and didn’t even register my sweet Jackie-Chan foot moves. Not-so-luckily a small group of hot man pieces about four rows behind me witnessed everything and decided that pointing, laughing, and discussing, “how anyone could be that stupid?” would help the situation. Dear life, thanks so much for cock-blocking me.

Slippery when wet…

I have enough difficulty walking on flat surfaces that are completely clean and dry. Throw some water and shoes with a serious lack of traction into the mixture and the outcome is generally hilarious for those viewing and catastrophic for me. Just such a situation arose the other night.

While leaving work wearing shoes with a heel and the smoothest bottom possible I began to carry the most massive load of cardboard ever to the trash room on my way out the door. What I failed to realize was that the floors had just been mopped and naturally there was a small puddle remaining right in front of my walking path. As luck would have it, I step right into this puddle of doom and go right down onto my knees. I then proceed to slide about three feet forward, kneeling and leaving cardboard in a haphazard trail behind me.

Oh, and when I glance up, at the end of the hallway the entire night time custodial crew is staring at me like I’m a rabid ostrich on loose from a nearby zoo (which in all honestly, is probably what I did look like.) Did I mention one of these night-time workers happens to be rather cute. Yes, of course he would be. I could never fall when no one is around, let alone when no one good looking is around. That is entirely too much to ask. While my knees are no longer bruised, I still hide behind panty tables whenever the custodial crew makes their closing rounds.

Life…I’m pretty much over it.

Life. Pshhhhh. I am done with you. If God or Mother Nature was sitting in the near vicinity of me I think I would throw my entire Mac at them. Lately they have been teaming up against me resulting in, of course, extreme awkwardness.

Stemming from my last experience with a cop, I’ve decided to keep up the routine. The pre-req for this story is acknowledging this pathetic excuse for a Vermont summer we have been having so far. Rain, every five days? Why yes, that is the perfect recipe for summer fun! Not.

After one of these delightful freak thunderstorms Vermont seems so fond of lately I was headed down Main St. on my way to work. Naturally, I was running a tad bit late and threw on slightly inappropriate (for the weather and life in general) wedge flip-flops. Half-way down Main I begin to slip on rain-plastered leaves that have decided to invade the general area of the sidewalk. This slip moves into full-blown eating of the pavement when my entire ankle rolls over the edge of the side-walk, which naturally drops off onto a rather steep hill. (For those B-towners I’m talking about the area right near Champlain College) My shins hit the edge of the sidewalk and the start of this hill with its wonderful wet grass and it’s all over.

Next thing I know I’ve tumbled head over heals into the middle of Main St. Awesome. Completely disoriented I sit up on the pavement and pray that I can quickly, and not too terribly awkwardly, hobble up the hill before any passing cars see me. No such luck, luckily a car with flashing lights pulls over right behind me, and out steps a lovely city cop. After aiding me in standing, questioning me if I am alright about 5 times and desperately trying to give me a ride to my destination I manage to escape (or rather scramble) up the tiny hill to the sidewalk. I look down just in time to see this “cop” pull away in his cruiser, which happens to have ANIMAL CONTROL smeared across the side of it…

I was just rescued from the middle of the road by Animal Control. How terribly fitting for my life.

Additionally, this picture pretty much accurately sums up how I felt about the whole experience: horrified and questioning if this was, in fact, reality.

While this has been the only recent full blown catastrophe I have also acquired a nice bundle of awkward encounters while on the run. Example: City Market. While attempting to grab a sandwich and eat and run on my lunch break I cut down an isle to come semi face to side-face with a questionable “friend” from Red Square. In my horror-induced skidding to a halt and turn around maneuver, I run quite literally into Kornbread. (For those of you who do not know who this is he is most likely homeless, has been arrested and tends to leave crack-rocks in the dorm beds of his hookups. Oh and he also had a music video that aired on UVMtv. Cool.) Yeah, life is good.

Only a few days before that while cutting down Cherry St. a complete non-DILF pushing a stroller looked at me and exclaimed, “NAAAAAASTY GIRL!” It was exclaimed in a way which most definitely was not insinuating that I was offensive. Being jarred from this ‘compliment’ I then collided into one of Church Street’s many garbage cans in front of a large pack of Frat bros.

In short. Life is clearly good. Expect another update relatively soon seeing as how I must go to Banknorth tomorrow and inquire as to why my bank account is over-drafted by a quite a few grand. Should be good I’m sure.

My knees are officially going to quit me

If you’re reading this, odds are you know me; and if you know me then you probably know I tend to fall, a lot, almost an obscene amount. Usually it is a once a week occurrence. Other times, sadly it more frequent. Today, however, was cherry on the sundae of my career in falling.


First two falls – Recycling removal. While bringing out all the lovely memories of the past weekend I bent over to grab a PBR can that had fallen. Worn down sneaker meet snow covered plastic tiling. Knees meet the floor. Face meet the stove. Result of all these lovely introductions: I am going to kill the owner of the PBR can, my knees hate me and I have a slight fat lip going on.

Second fall re-entering the kitchen to grab my cereal bar. Take a digger into the cupboards. FML.


So the day proceeds to be a hot mess. I spill coffee, knock over signs in the cafe and fall twice more on the walk home, once on our concrete front steps. 


It’s now almost 4pm and I’m limping my way through campus attempting to get to my class in which i will be giving an hour long presentation. My knees are black and blue and my ego is just as bruised. Who comes around the corner but oh yeah, center of my awkward universe. GREAT. This is just who I need to see right now. We walk by each other, say the usual “Hey, what’s up/How have you been?” I proceed to walk away thinking, I actually survived this, and take one last look backwards. That was my mistake.


At this exact moment a car proceeds to back out quickly and of course hit me. I’m not looking, they’re not looking. Bumper meet my thigh. Result, I wind up face-down in a mud-puddle. 

I’m wet, covered in mud, and am facing an 80-year-old woman apologizing profusely. Not to mention I have to go present to 20 people.


Save me.


I am now going to go lie in bed and ice my knees and vow to never again leave the safety of my own home.