Nope. This post isn't about doing Lis' hair or making up a dance routine at 8am. This post is about the morning that I almost called Meaghan to send Dave over but instead called Mark (and not the Hermit).
At about 12:30am on Saturday, I awoke to glass shattering. I looked out onto the street and saw nothing. After about 15 minutes of sparatic glass shattering, I had convinced myself that someone was breaking the windows on the first floor of my town house. What do you do when you think someone is breaking into your house? You call 911. And that is exactly what I did. The woman at Alexandria 911 asked me to state my emergency. I gave her my name and address (almost giving her my parents street address) and told her that I heard glass shattering and thought someone was breaking into my house. She said that the police had already been called and were on their way. Once I'm off the phone I realize that I'm still trapped in my room in a house that I believe is being broken in to. I call Wes thinking he is upstairs and will come down and save me. He doesn't answer so I leave a message where I tell him what is going on and break into tears. I believe Caroline Kennedy would cry in this situation as well. I proceed to call my other roommate. I dial the only Mark in my cell phone only to hear the lovely voice of Mark Charles answer. I want to die. At first I'm a bit stunned and can only say "Mark?" Mark confirms. "Yes, Kelly. What's wrong?" I sniff and respond "wait, Mark Charles?" Yes. I actually said that. Mark confirms and asks me again if I'm ok. My mind blanks and I totally lie to him and tell him I am fine. I told him that I was trying to get a hold of my roommate and accidentally called him. After I apologize for calling him at 12:45 in the morning I reassure him that I am fine. Mark tells me to call if I need anything and I thank him and get off the phone. Now I really want to die.
As I'm fully realizing what just happened Wes calls. He tells me that I shouldn't worry. That it's our fairly new neighbors next door and that they do this every weekend. He isn't at the house but he lets me know I should call him if I need help. Not 100% convinced, I find my pepper spray (thanks Dad) and listen at my door. I can't hear anything so I slowly open it and tip toe accross the hall to Mark's door. I knock a few times and there is no answer. I return to my room locking the door. I can see from my bedroom window that the cops have now arrived. The do not immediately rush to my house so this makes me feel better. They walk next door and then around back. I am now 99% convinced that my house is not being broken in to.
Again I gather my courage, pepper spray in hand, and head down stairs to find out what is happening at the back of the house. More cop cars are parked behind the house and I can kind of see them talking to what appears to be the next door neighbors. While downstairs, I check on my first floor to make sure there is in fact no broken windows. All the windows were in tact.
I return to my room wired. Really it's no change from the rest of the day, but it is 1am by this point. I decide to text Number 4. I know I may be risking interrupting precious Harry Potter time but I feel like she will understand, She was my next emergency call anyway. She has a lovely husband who I knew would swoop in to my rescue if asked. My text was a bit cryptic but I made sure to let her know I was ok incase she was unable to call. Being the lovely friend that she is, she gave me a call. I proceeded to tell her the long, embarrassing, scary story. She was very supportive and we had a good laugh over the whole thing.
After I got off the phone with Number 4 I went to go and talk to the cops hanging outside my house. As soon as I opened the door the told me everything was find in a condescending tone. No guns were pulled on me but the tone was unnecessary. I explained that I was one of the people that had called 911 and had thought that someone was breaking in to my house. I asked if it was really just the neighbors. The cops said they were unable to tell me who it was but there was someone in the neighborhood breaking beer bottles. I asked "are they still roaming the neighborhood?" They scoffed and said no, that there was a fight and it was being taken care of. I again returned to my bedroom and decided to post because I'm still too wired to sleep.
So here are the lessons I have learned from this mornings antics:
1. I am not as calm and collected in an emergency as I had thought I would be.
2. Always store all of your roommates phone numbers in your phone and label them well.
3. Have an emergency plan for what to do if someone is breaking in to your house.
4. If you are driving by my house in the near future, be careful of all the glass in front of and behind the house.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Fanny packs have been in my life for quite some time. The Pam is quite the fan. She is a mom, so that is ok. Recent events have brought the fanny pack back into my life. As a tribute, I would like to post this lovely pic of myself at the Sugar Bowl. Please don't focus on my face. I look like someone should be holding my arms down so I don't hurt myself. Focus on the fanny pack. The matching fanny packs and all their glory.