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[feaths]

The Arch

I don’t consider myself a claustrophobic person, but St. Louis May have changed me. My cousin and I went for the day to do some exploring, and we thought it’d be cool to see the top of the arch. Let me warn you if you ever want to do the same thing. To get to the top you get in this tiny futuristic all white looking pod far far underground with 4 other people, where you sit on tiny stools all facing each other in a circle. (This is after they tell you the designer of this system only spent 2 weeks on the project). You then begin to move at the most awful diagonal angle while shaking slightly the entire time. This goes on for like 5 minutes, where you can’t really take a deep breath and you also can’t pee your pants because there are strangers in the pod with you. It’s nerve racking to say the least. My defense mechanism in scary situations like this is nervous laughter, so the whole way to the top I’m laughing like a maniac next to my poor cousin who had to deal with a loss of circulation in her arm from me squeezing so tightly that I’m pretty sure the blood supply was cut off. When you get to the top, you press past people to see out of windows that are maybe a foot wide and 5 inches tall. There is no weight limit in the arch, so it could literally collapse if too many deranged people decide to chill up there for too long. Also, no one seems to acknowledge that it is literally moving when you are up there. If a building is so tall it sways, you probably shouldn’t be in that building, right? It’s pretty, but so is the arch from the ground. The most tragic part of this is that once you return to your pod and get back down you’ll notice a simulator on your way to the exit that shows what it’s like to look out of the arch and you don’t have to risk a heart attack or anxiety attack or your life or sanity to see it.

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The Trip to Jail

I was in a wedding this summer for a girl from college, we’ll call her Lydia. During said wedding, one of the bridesmaids got a little tipsy/ black out drunk and decided that driving home 3 states away at 11PM after a 15 hour day was smarter than paying $30 for a hotel room. We’ll call her Mista (changing the name to protect the guilty). I, because I am the only one who previously knew Mista became in charge of her. Long story short, I took her keys, someone gave them back to her, her sister called me so I talked to her, Mista yelled at the bride because she was mad no one was letting her drive drunk, and eventually everyone was so overwhelmed they left Mista outside (with a designated babysitter) and enjoyed the rest of the night. I get back to my hotel room, fall asleep for maybe 15 seconds and then my phone goes off. I go to turn the volume off until I realize it’s the bride calling me, so I answer and she says, “guess who got arrested?!” It’s 1 AM I am way too tired for this... but I am an amazing person so I spend the night talking to Mista’s sister who called me mmm... like 7 times and her v in denial mother who called me at 4 am (not a fun conversation). Fast forward to 8 am when Mista calls me from jail asking if I’m still in Indiana. Mind you, I’m a sarcastic person normally but after no sleep for 30 hours it’s uncharted territory. Mista asks me to come bail her out to which I laugh and say sure but, I paid $30 for my hotel room and you better believe I’m getting that breakfast before I leave. I have my hotel waffle and some yogurt and some chocolate chips (I just happen to be a slow eater) and then casually make my way over to jail. On the way, Mista calls me asking if I’m coming to which I reply, yes, but I paid for a hotel room and I am getting my moneys worth first. Lol. Thankfully, Mista got pulled over very close to where the wedding was because she “repeatedly drove in circles while swerving to the left side of the street in front of a parked police car.” I get to jail and they release Mista’s debit card to me (when she was arrested she had her phone and wallet on her and her full length bridesmaids dress). I go to the nearest gas station where people clearly come for bail money frequently, because the cashier looked at me and shrugged. I get the cash, talk to Mista’s mom 400 more times (when I told her Mista’s alcohol level she said, “oh good it isn’t a bad dui”... you see what I’m working with here), and then go back to the jail. This next part is what I imagine picking up a prostitute is like. When I get to the jail I have to ring a little doorbell because it’s Sunday and they are closed. Over a little speaker I hear, “Do you have the money?” To which I lean in and reply “yes.” Then they say “who do you want?” Sleepy Heather kicks in here and says “I wouldn’t say that I want her but I’ll pay for Mista.” The guy buzzes me in to an empty jail lobby, and tells me to go sit down and wait for him. Since I don’t want an STD, I stand and wait for him as the chairs are all oddly moist. He comes in, takes the cash, and then tells me Mista will be out soon. I wait outside the jail on the curb for Mista to come out. She emerges 20 minutes later from a garage door on the side of the building in her long dress from the night before holding her phone. When she gets within ear shot I say “wow, and I thought I looked rough...” I then drove Mista to Walmart where I followed her around telling all the confused onlookers “the wedding was yesterday!” She got normal clothes and a phone charger and I dropped her off at a hotel. This actually isn’t a funny story it’s really sad and she is an alcoholic whose family is in denial and is so entitled and selfish, but I did get to check “bail someone out of jail” off my bucket list, and I am tired of explaining why I went to jail after the wedding, so here it is in writing. P.s. Mista ended up paying over $1,000 in fines and legal fees so bet that $30 hotel room doesn’t sound so bad now...

[feaths]

The Grad School Interview

I recently applied to graduate school and got an interview. The interview was in Florida, so I asked my generally uptight dad to go with me so I wouldn’t have to worry about transportation or anything besides the actual interview. We get to the airport to fly to Florida and my dad hands me his license to hold in the security line, which is when I realize that it is super expired. Not like it happened yesterday expired, but like he shouldn’t be allowed near a commercial plane expired. I’m panicking, afraid of having to go to Florida and rent a car and do this interview alone, but amazingly he is calm cool and collected. That is when I realized vacation Pat mode had kicked in. The contrast between regular Pat and vacation Pat is so high that I almost didn’t recognize him at first. Regular Pat is tightly wound and slightly aggressive, vacation Pat is flamboyant and slightly intoxicated and fascinating to watch. He floated through airport security, and the rental car people were thanking him for renting a car from them. It should be a National Geographic documentary I swear. Anyways, we make it to Florida and I get to my interview in what I think is a professional blush pink blazer paired with grey pants and black heels. I had long straight blonde hair, and subtle jewelry. I walk into this interview holding room where others are waiting for their interview and I kid you not, 40 people are in there in black blazers and black pants. I froze in the doorway contemplating if I still stood a chance now that I was officially “that girl from legally blonde.” I sat down in the middle of the Black Sea mortified that literally no one else had any color whatsoever on them. If that didn’t set me apart enough, I forgot that I had vacation Pat coming to pick me up after instead of normal Pat, who would just pull into a parking spot and wait quietly. Vacation Pat likes loud country music and big vacation hats that are big enough to keep all the sun off your entire body. Based on the looks I got I think that makes me the redneck Elle woods of Florida now.

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The Fitbit.

I was at the Kansas City Airport for some reason and I had to go to the bathroom. I go into the stall, start taking my backpack off to hang it on the hook, hear a clip and then a splash, turn to look and see my Fitbit no longer on my wrist but IN THE TOILET, and start to panic. Do I throw my hand into a public toilet in Missouri for a Fitbit that would have to be incinerated anyways? Do I scoop it out with toilet paper? No. No I do not. Let me tell you what I did. I took a picture so that people would believe me and then I went to grab it. When my fingertips were maybe an inch from the toilet water I realized that it was an automatic flushing toilet. I realized that when it started automatically flushing, taking my Fitbit with it. I wrote Fitbit a message explaining the situation and how I was upset my Fitbit was broken by getting caught in I assume my backpack strap, and their response? It sounds like you have a water damage issue. 🙄 Ya think Fitbit?!?! On the other hand, the toilets at the Kansas City airport are by far the most powerful I have ever seen in my life I have absolutely no doubt my entire arm could have been taken off had I gone for the Fitbit. The worst part was not losing the Fitbit, it was that this incident took place in a bathroom stall in a public restroom, so even though it was totally warranted for me to scream “NOOO” or “stop stop stop please don’t!!” The other restroom patrons did not know the situation and I had to walk out of the stall through the restroom past all the very concerned bystanders. And I didn’t even explain the situation to them I just walked by with a straight face and let them wonder (it was too soon anyways).

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The Extra.

I was recently an extra (star of) the new Zac Efron movie about the serial killer Ted Bundy. None of my friends signed up in time so when I got the email saying to go to an abandoned looking warehouse in Newport, Kentucky, I went by myself. It occurred to me after I was walking into said warehouse that this is actually the perfect ploy to get young girls into a warehouse promising they’d be in a Zac Efron movie about a serial killer, when in fact it is probably just a real serial killer waiting for us to show up 10 minutes apart for “costume fittings.” As it turns out, I wasn’t murdered and there really was a production office on the third floor, but it was a close call. Also, I don’t even want to see the movie because it sounds too scary.

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The Dog Cancer.

I️ was babysitting for a family with four young boys and a dog that has a big ass tumor on it’s face that grew really fast and is cancerous. The kids were told about it by their parents and they weren’t concerned... until it randomly started gushing blood and the 70 pound white dog had blood all over it and the porch was COVERED in blood stains literally all over and me and one of the boys kept applying pressure and went through a roll of paper towels that were just completely soaked with cancerous dog face blood. Then the boy was asking me if he was going to get cancer because the dogs blood got on him and they were all panicking and I️ just kept thinking “what the hell do I do and also I’m not getting paid enough to watch kids watch their dog bleed out in front of them... or to stop a dog from literally bleeding out of its face.” The dog lived so its a happy ending it just looked like it was mauled by a bear and probably scarred the children for life but what are you gonna do 🤷🏼‍♀️

[feaths]

The Flight Attendant.

I was flying to California on a Thursday (as you do) and I got on a plane in Chicago and the flight attendant comes over the speakers and in a demon possessed voice whispers “welcome to your flight... your fright flight... there’s no turning back nowww.” I’m not usually a nervous flyer but I definitely thought that was the end. He continued to the safety talk where he said, “if we should have an emergency water evacuation... over the desert, you can put your life jacket on for moral support. Also please silence your cell phones and children at this time. If there is anything we can do to make your flight more comfortable please keep it to yourself.” This flight was getting into Cali at midnight so they dimmed the lights. When we were about to land the speaker came back on and all I heard was a soft whisper saying “wakey wakey it’s almost time to go.” I also don’t have a funny ending to this story just reoccurring nightmares.

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The Crash.

My aunt and I were staying with some of her friends at a cabin in Lake Tahoe. The guys were going mountain biking the next day and when my aunt heard that she said “heather will go!” Only one large problem. The extra bike they had for me was a large framed mountain bike meant for someone a foot taller than me. We get up to the mountain where we are starting the ride and no more than 2 minutes in we are heading down this cliff with no path full of jagged rocks and ruts for your tires to fall into and probably bears and lions. I’m trying to stop but the angle is too extreme (imagine like an 88 degree slope) and all of a sudden my head is where the bike tire should be. I end up on my side facing uphill with a big ass mountain bike (probably 1000 pounds) on top of me. The guy I met the night before rides up behind me and says “what happened?” As if it was a mystery why I was lying in the dirt facing the opposite direction. I said “I fell?” Like that wasn’t clear. Then he asked if I could ride down to the bottom. Oh I forgot to mention my whole body is broken and one leg is facing the wrong direction, so the answer was no. My aunt came to get me. I don’t have a funny ending to this story but I do have a hematoma in my leg and a scar on my shoulder as keepsakes :)

[feaths]

The Kids.

I'm 21. Some kids I babysit for were helping me at my work one day when a janitor there came over. She started saying how cute the kids were (and I agreed with her) and then she said the boys hair must be from his daddy (I thought about this and said yeah I guess so) and then she said the little girl was beautiful like her mommy (and I thought about her mom and I was like, that's really nice of you to say about her)... then she asked me if they'd be coming to help mommy at work a lot.... I'm 21. The boy is 11. He is a 5th grader. The worst part is we never corrected her it just went on too long. When the kids started losing it laughing I said "okay kids time to go!"

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The Shock Collar

I'm dog sitting this weekend. When I went to take the dog on a walk this morning I left his shock collar on the back of my car and then forgot about it and drove away. When I realized that tonight I took the dog on a walk to look for said collar. We met a little girl named Brooklyn (probably 5) on our walk and she joined the search party. The collar was not in walking distance so Brooklyn decided to search the flower beds by the front porch (just in case) and I drove off to look at the road. I found the collar a couple of miles away on the side of the road and came back. When I got back Brooklyn was on her hands and knees crawling around the front yard looking for the collar. Thankfully her parents weren't around because it probably looked super questionable when she was crawling around someone else's front yard by herself at night. Also, we found the collar but I had to tell the parents anyway because if I didn't Brooklyn would. She talked a lot.

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The Zipline.

This weekend my mom, my friend Alyssa and me went to Chicago to see my aunt Jill who was in from California. We had such a fun time together at the bean, the sky deck, the navy pier, but none of those were the most memorable part. The best thing was while we were in line for the sky deck, we played heads up charades edition to pass the time. We were at a point in the line where it was pretty single file, and everything was roped off. People were already kind of watching us when the word "zipline" comes up and my aunt Jill squats down, straps herself in with a seat belt, and then yells "zzzzzzzzzzz" and runs down the line with her hands up like she was holding herself on a handle bar. At this point everyone is watching Jill, my mom is peeing her pants laughing, Alyssa is hiding the phone so no one thinks she is involved, and I curl up in the standing fetal position to make it stop. No one guessed zipline.

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The Dodgeball.

Tonight my intramural team entered a dodgeball competition (because tshirts were on the line!). Only one other girls team and one boys team entered, so there were literally 3 teams. We started by playing the girls team, and lost. Then, we had to play the boys team for an overall title. We also lost that, and to make it even worse, I was the last one standing. So it was me, standing in the middle of the court shaking while 6 athletic ass boys stared at me while holding dodgeballs while my team watched from the sideline. I think that is the definition of living a nightmare. I would like to say that I managed to knock them all out with one ball, but that didn't happen. I don't want to talk about it anymore. We didn't get a tshirt.

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The Spray Tan.

I went to get my first spray tan to see if I liked it enough to get one for graduation, (also it was free & it's February so I can cover it up if it's bad). I was pretty nervous because it was my first time. When I went back to the room the girl showing me the poses to make started talking and turns out, not a girl. I'm not saying being transgender is a bad thing, but it caught me super off guard when his(?) voice was 8 octives lower than mine. I completely missed his whole demonstration about hand positions and when to turn around and where to put lotion beforehand (because I couldn't stop thinking about how his legs fit in those yoga pants). All I heard was push the green button when you are ready to start. So I did! The tan I got was "medium" and it went on clear, so I wouldn't really see it until the next day. Well let me tell you. I was so nervous that I put on no lotion, didn't change my hand position the entire time, and turned but not enough. I woke up with dark orange hands, a face I didn't recognize, and a tan body that would be fine on the beach but didn't really work for school in February. My foundation actually lightened my skin. Luckily, my roommates are really nice and told me it wasn't that bad. That's not true. They made fun of me until it lightened 5 to 7 days later. Don't go for medium if you are clearly a light kind of girl.

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The Cancer.

Today I got a call from a 513 number during class. I didn't answer because I was in class, but when I went to listen to the 2 minute long voicemail my jaw went through the floor. It was a sweet elderly lady we will call Beverly telling me that she had just gotten a call from her doctor saying she had colon cancer, and that I was the first one she was calling. I have been joking recently about how I'm not good at dealing with serious situations because I laugh too much, but for some reason this last semester people have been coming to me left and right and from unknown numbers to test me. I knew right away that I had to call Bev back and tell her that her friend didn't get her message, but how do you address someone who you don't know that has cancer which you do know but you shouldn't and no one else knows. Don't google it because nothing is there. Anyways, I call Bev back and introduce myself and say "hey, so you called me and you didn't mean to, and I want you to know that your friend didn't get the message you thought she did." Bev thought she called me about her church dessert train to help the sick. This lady could not be any more sweet. So I had to say "noo, it was more health related." She immediately said "oh my goodness I'm so sorry!" And I said "no I'm sorry!!" She told me she was nervous and I said I hope everything goes well. We talked for 5 minutes and figured out who the message was meant for. Also we are getting lunch next week. So if you have a serious situation and you need someone to talk to, leave me a voicemail and I will respond within 1 business day because apparently that's my thing now.

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The Casino. My dad wanted to teach me a lesson for my 21st birthday, so he decided to take me gambling and show me how fast a dollar can disappear. He put $10 in a machine and bet .90 a round, and lost it all in about 30 seconds. Then I did a machine $1 a round for 10 rounds and lost that in about a minute. We were on the way out when I said "just put $5 in that machine and then we can leave." He did, and on his first round betting .60 he got 20 free rounds and ended up winning $134! He was so mad and kept saying "this doesn't usually happen!!" I cashed him out and he let me keep $100. So lesson learned, don't gamble your own money. You only win when you use other people's.

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The Pee.

Last weekend me and my friend and her family and their friends all hiked Mt. Leconte. The quickest way up Leconte is 11 miles round trip, so it takes awhile. Since Le Conte is on top of a mountain there is no electricity or plumbing. Thus, if you wanted to go to the bathroom up there you'd have to use a 75 year old out house. Nope. I felt like I didn't have to go that bad when we were heading down, and what's another 3 hours?! Wrong. I didn't calculate the location of the strap on my backpack (mid bladder). Long story short, I had to pee, I mean like really pee after about 20 minutes. At this point I was separated from my friend and her aunt, so it was me and 2 of my brand new friends (aka complete strangers), and I explained the situation to them. The boy, who I never actually learned his name, started walking really fast and the girl, again don't know, stayed with me. All of a sudden I hear the boy yell "clear!" And the girl runs backwards and yells "go go go!" It was like they'd rehearsed it. I start peeing on the side of the trail until the girl yells "you're done, you're done!! And starts walking back to me. She grabs my backpack from the trail and takes off while I get it together and hope back on the trail just in time for some hikers to walk by. Teamwork.

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The Stairmaster.

Tonight I went to the gym with my former friend Zac. Why is he your former friend, you may be wondering? Let me tell you. I had been on the gd stair stepper for 20 minutes when Zac comes over and *stands* on the one next to me. Not moving. Zac says, "hey your really close to 88 flights of stairs, you can beat the terrorists!" (Referring to the World Trade Center). So obviously now I can't let all those people down who had to do all those stairs for their lives. 10ish more minutes go by (7 hours stairmaster time) and I make it to 88 flights of stairs (about 1300 steps). At this point I look at Zac and say, "if the plane hit at the top wouldn't everyone be running DOWN?!" To which he responds, "oh, I guess I've never looked at it that way..." All I have to say to him is bye Felicia 👋🏼