Distracted

I don't want to provide too many details because I don't want to incriminate myself further. After leaving the school tonight, I was pulled over for speeding. The nice officer decided not to charge me with the moving violation. Instead he charged me with failure to notify the DMV of an address change. He told me that because I was polite, honest and had a good driving record he wanted to reward my good behavior. Not really sure how all of this is going to end up. I have already changed my address with the DMV online. Their may be updates later after I talk to my people.

Hello. We are the Hives from Sweeden.

Yes. Yes they are. The Hives were rockin' on Monday night. Their intense energy and pride for their homeland took over JPJ. Lead singer Pelle Almqvist strutted across the stage and into the crowd multiple times. There was a Mick Jagger-esque quality to it all. The whole band hammed it up for the crowd while being quite stylish. They were sporting matching black suits with white trim and white shoes. I didn't even stop to think that they were breaking the no white shoes after Labor Day rule. They were that rockin'. The whole band seemed to really enjoy being in Virginia and putting on a great show for us. The best part was when Pelle invited people to get out of their seats and approach the stage during Walk Idiot Walk. Sterling and I looked at each other and with that decided to take the risk to descend from row R in section 104 down to the floor. As we got to the floor the usher was not paying attention so we walked on by and up to the right of one of the stage where no one was standing. Sterling shares my love of dance and we danced our way up to the rail right in front of the stage. Jumping up and down and rocking out we caught the attention of guitarist Nicholaus Arson. That was great as it was. Just Sterling and I dancing around. Then Pelle came over, two feet away from us, and sang a whole verse just to us. Just to us people. Just to us. It was great. We felt like rock stars. It's just a shame we weren't allowed to remain there for Maroon 5.

My Boys

I know by posting this I am being completely unoriginal. I felt the need to share this with those who have yet to enjoy it. It's hilarious! The best part, both my boys are in it. What a nice treat a few days before I get to see one in person.

Friday = Drama

The Pam is a liar. I really can not fathom that she has seen people light up a smoke at a football game in the past decade. A high school football game to be clear. I can't believe she has observed such behavior because one it's not allowed and two because of what I witnesses tonight. The event I speak of is five cops removing one crack head cheer mom that decided she would light up a smoke in front of her daughter after we had already told her she couldn't, two quarters earlier. It would be one thing if an administrator strolled over and asked her to put it out but no. Five, yes five, police officers approached her at a hurried pace and removed her from the game. This was a big deal. Big deal. That is why, I believe, the Pam is a liar.

Why!?!?!?!?!

The water at my house is off again! I thought I was finished with all my utility woes, but no. I called the water company and found out that they are installing a valve near my house and the water is going to be out for about 10 hours. Really? 10 hours and no warning? What kind of show are we running here people. Do they think that everyone is out partying it up on Friday night so they won't be bothered by the lack of no water? I went out to the movies. I have an early morning tomorrow. I would enjoy water all night long. People. You are killing me here. I pay for water. I like water. I do not choose to live in the desert.

The West Wing is Like Crack

I have been without cable for the last two weeks. Wes moved out and had the cable cut off. I am in the process of trying to schedule an appointment for Comcast to come out and turn it back on. I have been fairly busy so living without cable has only been a mild challenge. My lovely aunt has loaned my family the first two seasons of the West Wing. I have been watching one or two episodes a night. The problem is, I'm finished with season two. That's right. Mrs. Landingham is dead, the tropical storm has hit and in his own sly way, President Bartlet has let us know that he has decided to run for a second term. I need more. I need to see the staff reaction. I need to hear him say he is running for a second term. I NEED MORE!!!!!!! Last night I had the shakes when I went to bed. I'm going through severe withdraw. I realize that no one should be addicted to a TV show in this way but I can't help it. The West Wing in like crack and I am willing to beg, barter and steal to get another fix. Anything to buy time until I can get a hold of the next season over Labor Day weekend. Yes, my life is sad.

Update: Lis is the best and found someone with the third season. A big thanks to Claire for lending it to me.

Ealy Morning Antics

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.