Posts Tagged ‘death’

Times I’ve Almost Died: FIRE!

I don’t know about you, but those fire safety lectures we had in elementary school scared the hell out of me when I was a kid. I was convinced that my house would burn to the ground and had a detailed plan for which of my belongings I would grab while fleeing from my collapsing inferno of a home. I had almost completely forgotten about this latent fear until yesterday when my Serenity movie night was interrupted by a strange orange glow seeping through the blinds. At first we thought it was just headlights, but headlights don’t flicker. Also usually don’t shine in to second floor windows.

FIRE!!

FIRE!!

So there are these dumpsters about a hundred paces from my front door, and next to them is a strange fenced off little enclosure where people dump old mattresses or furniture. There are plenty of overhanging trees too.

When we first walked outside, the wind was up and we were getting hit with sparks.

When we first walked outside, the wind was up and we were getting hit with sparks.

Luckily Rachel is quickest on the cellphone draw and called 911. We found out someone already had. People from the Business and Professional Women’s Club next door were already gathering to take pictures with their cellphones stupidly close. Some other apartment dwellers, slightly more freaked out because, you know, we live here, started gathering and trying to move their cars. Joe immediately accused the guy holding a cigarette of starting the whole thing and returning to the scene of the crime.
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Times I Have Almost Died: Calendar Literacy Fail

This morning I woke up early, ready for the first day of classes. After taking a shower and grumbling about having to put on Not-Pajamas before noon, I decided to look up where my classes for the morning were, and then, since I was already there, what obscenely expensive textbooks I would need to buy and then never read. It’s a miracle that I did this because there, at the top of one of the course websites, was the schedule with “CLASS INTRO: JAN. 12TH” as the first bullet point.

That was my first clue. My second clue was when I looked at the academic calendar (for the first time ever, natch) and saw “JANUARY 11TH: CLASSES BEGIN” highlighted in red.

I can only imagine what would have happened had I decided to make breakfast instead of order textbooks (which I gave up on after discovering the sordid truth, btws). I would have taken the bus to school, complaining about the cold the entire way, wondered vaguely where the hordes of undergraduates were, and sat in an empty classroom for about half an hour before wondering if there was some kind of alphabetizationmergency I had missed the alert on.

I guess I just assumed that if I was going to work I should also be going to class. I’m actually hoping this happens more often because suddenly having another week of sleeping in and not doing boring readings about “What IS information?” is all the more awesome because of its unexpectedness.

So awesome that I decided to update my blog for the first time since being gripped by the ravages of Frozen North-induced flu. Don’t worry, I got better in time for presents. It was a Christmas miracle.

Times I Have Almost Died: National Novel Writing Month

National Novel Writing Month happens every November, when writers and crazy people alike attempt to complete a 50,000 word novel in one month. That’s about 1667 words a day. Like 3 pages single spaced. No sweat right? Yeah.

Last year my novel started out being a set of connected and humorous short stories about the library I used to work at. Then that got boring and I wasn’t working fast enough so zombies attacked the library. Then about a third of the way through I couldn’t take the word limit requirements and it turned into ridiculous stream of consciousness where I talked about everything from what I had dreamed the night before to how I feel about flying squirrels. In hundreds of years they will probably find it and be so confused they will have no choice but to turn it into a holy book and start worshiping its bad syntax.

This year I made a vow that I would hold off stream of consciousness for as long as possible. However, it’s November 10th and I only have 13,868 words. By the end of today I should have 16,670. Yeah, right. Not when I am also trying to write final papers for grad school, thanks.

To say that I have upheld my vow and completely stayed on track would also not be completely accurate. Sure, I have stuck with a story and not started rambling about my personal life yet, but it only took about four days for that story to veer dramatically from semi-serious psychological study of realistic characters to TIME TRAVELING ALIENS ARE ATTACKING; ONLY YOU CAN SAVE MANKIND. I assume this switch was inevitable. Also, it is only November 10th. There are 20 more days left. I predict I would be stream of consciousnessing to make Faulkner proud by the end of this week.

Times I Have Almost Died: Swine Flu

I hesitantly include this as a time I’ve almost died since it is definitely less serious than others in this category, like the time I read the fourth Twilight book. I wouldn’t have even bothered going to the doctor at all if campus weren’t plastered with flyers saying “If you have ANY TWO of these symptoms come to health services IMMEDIATELY”. And it’s not like Rice health services, either, where they’re never open and they prescribe allergy medicine for every ailment. It’s a legit hospital. I had to park in a parking garage and walk across a skyway to get there.

While I was there, I got to wear a stylish mask, and everyone kept assuring me that Everything Is Going To Be Okay. Apparently the top half of my face always looks really worried, because in reality I am way less scared of swine flu than I am of Japanese Spider Crabs. They told me I either had a mild case or was “incubating it” and would feel even worse later. They gave me pamphlets. I got to keep the mask.

Doctor: Do you need proof that you were here?
Me: Ummm… what? Like for insurance?
Doctor: You’re a grad student so probably not. Most of the undergrads are afraid their professors will think they’re lying.
Me: No, my professors seem pretty understanding.
Doctor: Well, you’re a grad student; you’re more mature.

LULZ! Joke’s on her! Although judging from the vapid conversations I’m forced to listen to daily on the bus, she’s probably right.

Anyway, after sleeping for fourteen hours, I feel much better! Take that swine flu! Although still coughing like a chain-smoking asthmatic.

Times I Have Almost Died: Ye Olde Waffle Shoppe

Today, unlike the many more harrowing Times I Have Almost Died, I was nearly killed by sheer joy. The Culprit? Chapel Hill’s Ye Olde Waffle Shoppe. The Weapon? The M&M Waffle.

This isn’t the first encounter I’ve had with the joy that is M&M Waffles. The theory occurred to me in the Wiess Servery when morning when I realized some SCIENTIFIC FACTS upon which to base this experiment in the tasty sciences:

1) The Wiess Servery has a waffle iron.
2) The Wiess vending machines have M&M’s (sometimes)

Hypothesis: I could put M&M’s in the waffle batter and get M&M waffles!!!

Unfortunately this was in the early days of my scientific career so I had failed to take a few vital parts of the experiment into consideration.

1) I hate waiting in lines so the waffle iron was pretty much out of my reach.
2) M&Ms can burn and melt and things. Though they seem magical, they are essentially chocolate.

Thankfully, Ye Olde Waffle Shoppe has my back! A narrow diner with waffles, pancakes, eggs, and hashbrowns, this would TOTALLY have been a Breakfast Club Destination had it been in H-Town during my three-year tenure as Breakfast Rep. The M&M waffles were maybe the closest mortal man can be to heaven. At least if your version of heaven involves waffles and candy. MINE DOES.

Unfortunately by the time I realized this was a life-changing experience, all of the food was gone. I will probably have to make several more research trips to this location and eat several more M&M waffles. You know, FOR SCIENCE.

Twilight 4: A Review That Almost Cost Me My Life

The name of this book is actually Breaking Dawn but you wouldn’t know what I was talking about if I used it. See, I got this book on Monday from the library. I ignored the librarian’s judging, judging eyes because I was too busy thinking “Hurrah! Now I will read it today, write a blog post about it tomorrow, and that will take care of my Tuesday obligations!” Little did I know that this would be a novel so excruciating that I would need to take frequent breaks to soothe my battered psyche into submission and bang my head against a wall. In the end, I only very nearly escaped being strangled by my own good taste by turning on episodes of Black Adder the Third in the background during the last 200 pages.

I had a feeling this one would be different because I was at the library the morning after it came out, when the five teen girl movie volunteers staggered in around noon after staying up all night waiting at the book store. “Well?” I asked them. “How is it?” Since they’d been talking about nothing else for the past two months it wasn’t hard for them to know what I was talking about. I was shocked when they all shouted “HORRIBLE!” at once and one of them added “It’s like Stephanie Meyer didn’t even write it.” After valiantly reading the other three books so that you don’t have to, I started wondering about this condemnation. Could it be that Stephanie Meyer, in the fourth book of her wildly popular and horribly written teen girl series, has FINALLY learned how to write, letting down her vapid fans everywhere?

The answer, I’m sad to tell you, is NO. For the love of all that is at least properly punctuated, NO. So, proceed IF YOU DARE.
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Times I Have Almost Died: Clyde the Lizard

So while in Monterey, I wanted to see the beach and misguidedly decided to walk down an alley to get to it. At the end was, in fact, the beach, but also an odd assortment of vagrants, one of whom saw Steven’s camera and immediately said, “You want a good picture?” and reached into his pocket.

This could have ended any number of ways, but it turned out to be a lizard.

His name is Clyde!

His name is Clyde!

Then, after a lengthy discussion of Clyde’s eating habits–in which he asked us for “Florida herbage” twice, saying that he could sense we had some by our aura–he introduced us to his friend “Gandalf” who recited some poetry. Then a pimply high schooler arrived with a bottle of prescription drugs and I used the distraction to run back down the alley and not stop until I reached the Tollhouse Cookie Bakery. Steven followed along at a somewhat more sedate pace.

Times I Have Almost Died: North Dakota Animals

When forced to think about North Dakota (sadly, most people will not do so willingly), they mostly mention how cold it is. Little do they know that summertime threats besides frost bite lurk in the ravines of the badlands. Fiercest and most mysterious of these is the legendary Prairie Shark:

Or possibly some kind of root. Still, SCARY STUFF!

Or possibly some kind of root. Still, SCARY STUFF!


The only defense against the Prairie Shark is to run away quickly. Luckily, that left me energized to deal with our other brushes with death:
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