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aladene
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Name: Dana
Birthday: 10/24/1985
Gender: Female
Interests: eating, reading mindless books, falling asleep at inopportune times, watching copiously obscene amounts of cable television
Expertise: Friends trivia, Word Racer, crossword puzzles, Spider Solitaire, converting oxygen into carbon dioxide, PUNS!!
Occupation: Student
Industry: Art
Message: message me
Member Since:
2/26/2003
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| It takes a lot to pull me out of the Xanga coma I'm currently under, but a suitable situation has finally arrived. Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I am engaged. And by "engaged", I do not mean "busy", but engaged to be married.
WHAT?!?!?!?!?!!
Too right! At the premature age of 21, I have secured a man who is not only willing to put up with the crazy one-woman show that I am, but also to shell out good money to pay for this shiny little friend on my finger. He's a good guy, though disturbingly obsessed with donuts, hence, he shall be known as Joenut.
BUT HOW DID IT HAPPEN?!?!?!?!
Well, it's a long convoluted story that even I don't fully understand. And I've tried on multiple occassions to tell the story in the written word, but my writing skills have greatly depreciated with time and old age. So, the dry, condensed version...
Girl finds note on car telling her that a present is waiting for her at home with someone/something, and answer is hidden in note.
Girl drives home and cannot figure out answer.
Girl meets friend at apartment and enters abode.
Girl sees stuffed Lou Seal wearing Girl-sized Giants jersey and holding wristlet with ring-box shaped bulge in it.
Girl gets up looking for Boy in apartment. Girl cannot find Boy.
Girl opens wristlet and finds ring-box.
Girl opens ring-box and finds folded note where ring should be.
Girl reads note, which tells her that real present is outside at the bottom of the stairs.
Girl rushes to front door and swings it open.
Boy is kneeling on front step, proffering diamond ring.
Boy proposes.
Girl accepts.
Friend takes pictures. (Thanks, Friend!)
Roll credits.
And that was it. It may not sound all that exciting, but it was! I just wish I had the writing skills to give that tale of romance and craftiness justice. If you want real details, just take me out to lunch, and I'll give you the unabridged version.
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| At the prompting of my fans, I have decided to regale you with a xanga post. This is a coming of age story, a tale of heroics and deep maturity. Allow me to begin...
It all started on a brisk Thursday morning. I awoke to the sounds of my radio alarm and rolled out of bed, blearily heading to the bathroom. Stretching and yawning, I looked up and saw myself in the mirror, a frightening experience even when not just emerging from a full night's sleep. My reflection revealed that I had hair resembling that of a zombie with an afro. With a mind to fix my appearance, I reached for my hairbrush, not realizing that my necklace lay entwined in the bristles of my brush. When I picked it up, the necklace chain came with it and bounced the pendant into the sink and down the drain! Gasping, I dropped the brush on the floor (incidentally stabbing my foot with the sharp teeth) and grasped the side of the sink for support. I made futile attempts to pull the plug out of the drain, but it was more stuck than gum in hair.
I did some quick thinking and finally decided that this problem would just have to wait. I had to get ready for work, and I doubt that my bosses would be sympathetic to the plights of a 21-year-old's jewelry problems. So I did all my sink-involved activities at the kitchen sink, and left a note for myself not to run the water in the bathroom. Yet all the while, my day was drowned in sorrow at the thought that I might never get my necklace pendant back. It was a necklace my parents had bought for me for my high school graduation, so it held a lot of sentimental value.
I went through my day as usual, often instinctively reaching to play with my necklace, but alas, it was not around my neck, but down a deep, dark, damp drain. During my drive home, I called my father to share my lament, and he told me how I might retrieve my lost treasure. With new hope, I ran upstairs and dug out my handy-dandy tool box, gifted to me on my first day of college. I rummaged through it and found the appropriate wrench, placed an 8-qt. copper-core All-Clad pot for lack of a bucket beneath the U-bend of the pipe, and set to work as a makeshift plumber. I had even changed out of my work clothes and into dungarees and a t-shirt. After much manly grunting and clanging of even manlier tools, I retrieved my necklace pendant, and even reassembled the pipes correctly and without any leaks!
I emerged from under the bathroom sink a new woman. That's right, my friends, I am a plumber. So no longer do I fear the loss of small items down a sink drain (although I am more careful with my jewelry now). Congratulate me on my newfound skill for I have conquered the impossible, all the while keeping my girlish figure.
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| OMG!!!
I was absentmindedly browsing through the Netflix selections,
halfheartedly clicking on movies and shows that I have had a hankering
to watch, when this caught my eye.
It's like a dream come true! I loved this show!!! You cannot imagine my excitement! | | |
| So the following dialogue has naught to do with my current situation abroad, but it is xanga-worthy nonetheless. This conversation occurred about a month ago, but I never got a chance to write about it.
Allow me to set the scene. I ventured out on my first solo meeting for work and was supposed to attend a meeting with the head of maintenance and groundskeeping of Solano County Community College and a product representative from Interface carpet tile. The carpet rep never showed up, so the SCCC rep, Frank, and I had a very memorable conversation that started out so innocently. It went a little something like this...
F: So where do you go to school?
D: I'm in my last year at UC Davis right now, studying Design with an emphasis an Interior Architecture.
F: What are your plans for after graduation?
D: Well, I will be participating in a summer abroad program in Scandinavia for three weeks and then travelling around western Europe for another three weeks.
F: Fantastic! I lived in Europe for 11 years when I was in the Air Force after WWII.
D: How cool! How many languages do you speak?
F: About four. Do you speak any oriental languages?
D: (blank stare) Uhhh...no. I don't. I used to speak Chinese as a child, but not anymore. I do know some German though.
F: (surprised look) How odd! A little oriental girl speaking German!
That's right, friends. He called me "oriental!" I wasn't offended by any means because I knew it was a generational thing, but still! I had never been called or referred to as oriental before. I am not a rug. I am not a blue packet of Ramen. I found the whole situation hilarious, and now sometimes refer to myself as oriental. Hahahaha...just remembering it makes me laugh.
Whenever I have told people this story, they just shake their heads. So go ahead, shake your head and look downwards with embarressment for this ignorant, old man. | | |
| Holy crap, I'm in Europe! I'm living the dream! I've been here for almost two weeks now and it's just starting to hit me. I shan't even attempt to regale you with all the craziness that has ensued up to this point. Instead, when I return in mid-August, I will write a SUPER Xanga entry, complete with pictures, diagrams, and possibly a chart. Who knows? For now, I will just leave you with the hopes of better things to come.
I'm not feeling particularly inspired to write right now, but I thought I should at least let you people know that a good entry is forthcoming. Just be patient. | | |
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