Allison brought her world to Rexburg, ID

Right after my first son, Ethan, was born, Allison came out to Idaho to help with groceries and dinners and be an aunt and all that good stuff. Her great plan was to cook a double or triple batch of chili and then stock my freezer with it for later. We'll just let the picture tell the rest of the story.

Get Your Tickets for the Fire Station Dedication -- Two for $75 bucks...

January 5th, 2007

Zach
I don't get many parking tickets. If I do get a parking ticket, I pay it. But it is usually very crumpled upon mailing because I have squeezed the life out of the sucker and thrown it on to the floor of my vehicle where it remains for days as I try to get over feeling deceived or taken in some way. You see, in LA they have what I like to call "Conditional Parking Signs:"

But that's not even the most "fustrating" part--because oft times they will have not just one, but 3 or 4 ridiculous signs all stacked on top of each other so even if you can find an open parking spot (which is highly unlikely) you'll have to pull out your LSAT prep book to be able to figure out the logic problem of which sign cancels out what time on what day with what colored curb.

With that as background, I'm on my way to sing with a group at the dedication of the Mar Vista Fire Station. How lovely, we are doing some service FOR THE CITY as a motion of goodwill and love. uh-huh. Eyes were wet, hearts were touched, we did a great job. As I return to my vehicle I notice a gift card on my windshield. What?!? Nevermind that it's Saturday--you see there is a meter next to the curb which apparently trumps all Conditional Parking Signs and that meter only takes coins for up to one hour. It's ok, it's ok--I just did service--I find the inner strength to support the city and not crumple the ticket. Upon arriving home, I am startled to find there is another slip of paper inside of the ticket envelope. . . What the. . . ?? Two tickets?!?!? Yes, yes, didn't you know that you can receive an additional ticket for each and every hour you are parked in the one hour parking?--see you're taking away someone else's opportunity to get a ticket you curb-hogging ingrate...

Both tickets are currently crumpled on the floor of my car...

Oh chute...

August 2007
Zach
For some reason my landlord doesn't have a key anymore to our place to come in and do repairs, so it's just one more thing to add to the list of stuff to get done that I don't have time for. So I'm rushing around, trying to get out the door with my arms full of stuff and finishing up cleaning the apartment before I leave for class, and feeling pretty good cause I have some positive momentum at least and I'm "getting my stuff done."

I even have the foresight to put the key in a white envelope to remind me of the task I need to complete, so I really am working with brilliance here. It's time to go--I grab the envelope, my backpack, my lunch, my gym bag for after class, surplus books that don't fit in my bulging backpack, keys/wallet/phone/ check check check, start the dishwasher, grab the trash to take out on the way...out the door...down the hall...drop the trash in the chute...clink kuh-clink clink clink...

And there's the empty envelope still in my hand as the key escorts the trash down the garbage chute into the depths of the dumpster below...

From the Archives

So, I just typed in “welcome to my world” in my Gmail and came up with some classics, along with a few I didn’t even remember …

February 7, 2007
Allison
Just wanted to let you know that I drove into work today so I could avoid walking to the metro in the cold and snow. Instead, I ended up walking to the gas station in the cold and snow when I ran out of gas 8 blocks from work. picture me in heels and a skirt in the 20 degree weather running down a slippery sidewalk to a gas station (which I think ended up being further from my car than my office), then all the way back carrying two gallons of gas.

the funny thing is that I actually got to work earlier than usual. go figure. :)

May 8, 2006
Allison
I went to the police station on Saturday to get a clearance so I could volunteer, and they told me I had to come back on Monday. So I went this morning before work and when they gave me my clearance, it said I had a DWI in 2001 and did jail time for it. So I got that all straightened out, got to work late, and when I got there realized I left my laptop at home. I had to go back and get it. By the time I got to work it was like 11:00 and I had made my commute 3 times in the rain plus a trip to the police station. Happy Monday to me!

September 13, 2005
Emily
Ok, so I have been waking up at 6:30 every morning for my student teaching to get ready, get Ethan fed and ready for the day, and get breakfast and get to school by 8:15. We had a power surge a few months ago that zapped my alarm clock and I finally got a new one to replace it. So, on Monday I set my alarm and set my phone just to make sure my new alarm was working. Both of them went off so I figured I was all set. PLUS, even on a Saturday I am lucky if I can get Ethan to sleep in until 7:30. PLUS, my blood sugar usually is calling for breakfast by 8:00, PLUS Kyle grew up on a farm and he wakes up with the sun. So, I have about 5 back up systems for making sure I get up in the morning. Well, last night I stayed up really late putting away groceries and making baby food, and thinking about what I can say to these students today (2 high school students were killed in a car accident this weekend so it's been pretty sober and heavy around the high school). Ethan ate his last meal pretty late because I was at the grocery store and then he wasn't very sleepy and probably didn't go to bed until 9:45 or 10:00. Kyle was working until close at Wendy's and I was actually still awake when he got home... anyway, so I set my alarm for 7:00 instead of 6:30 and...

This morning Kyle wakes up and taps me on the shoulder and says, "um Em, do you know what time it is?" And I looked at the clock at it was 8:51!!!! I was supposed to be at school by 8:15 and I didn't even wake up until almost 9!! So Kyle is too tired from working late to wake up with the sun anymore, Ethan was on a crazy schedule yesterday so he didn't wake up, I had had a low blood sugar before I went to bed and must have overtreated it so I woke up high, and my fabulous new alarm has a quirk that I must have overlooked. Plus, since I'm only nursing morning and night, I don't wake up from needing to feed Ethan .Meanwhile, I missed two days last week from being sick and I didn't even show up this morning until I could freak out and grab stuff and go. Oh man. But, Mr. Hinck was up painting his living room unitl 2:00 in the morning so when I told him the story he thought it was pretty funny. Ah, life. I want to welcomed OUT of the welcome to my world club, please.

Allison’s response:
Em -- I feel for you. Sorry I can never be the one to welcome you out of that world -- I think I'm in it permanently. I don't think I can top your story, but check this out: Last week I borrowed some hedge trimmers to do the bushes in our front yard, and none of the four extension cords in our basement would work with them. I suddenly realized that the end of the Christmas lights cord was shaped perfectly, so plugged it in and there I was, with a string of white twinkle lights trailing behind me as I trimmed all the bushes in our front yard (it was dusk so you could really see them -- one of my friends drove by and called out, "Christmas isn't for four more months!") Anyway, it worked great -- until I had only half of a little bush left, and the hedge trimmers ate the Christmas lights :( They aren't really heavy-duty-meant-for-yardwork cords.

Anyway, welcome back in. It's great to have you here in my world.

Mom’s response:
I guess I'll join you just so I won't be lonesome. When I was getting everything de-cluttered and gleaming to show the house, I cleared the George Foreman grill off of the counter tomake it look more spacious. So now, the house is sold, Dad is out of town, and I'm hungry. And George is no where to be found. No where. Where could I have put it???? And the worst....I was cleaning the toilet just now in the main floor bathroom, and the rag got away from me and I couldn't get it back. Great. It went down. So will it clog the sewer again??? I do NOT need a flood right now. So I'm going around the house flushing, flushing, flushing to keep things moving.

August 25, 2005
Allison
So I was having this great morning, because Jen made me French toast for breakfast and then Latricia drove me all the way to the metro. No sooner was I on the metro, however (in a very crowded car, I might add) than I reached into my purse for my book, and just as I did so, the metro driver slammed on the brakes and I went FLYING. Seriously -- I was flailing around, trying to find a bar to grab onto, but nothing. I hit the ground. It even broke the skin on my knee. Umm, EMBARRASSING!! How has YOUR morning been?

Has anyone seen my marbles?

Emily -- I'm taking the liberty of posting this one for you (cut and pasted from your e-mail), since it was part of the inspiration to start this blog!

So I go into the kitchen to finish unloading the groceries and as I'm putting away the strawberries I see another case of strawberries already in the fridge that I bought yesterday. Hello?! Then, I decide to super glue two magnets to the back of my newly purchased dry-erase eraser so I can keep it up on the whiteboard, and I try to unscrew the lid. After 4 or 5 unsuccessful attempts, I assume that I have to unscrew the whole thing instead of just the cap, and right as I am trying to figure out how to make it work and I'm reading the front part of the bottle that says "goof proof," I manage to spill superglue all along the inside of my hand in between my third and fourth finger, pooling right to where my wedding ring is. (I'm just taking this whole eternal marriage thing being SEALED to your spouse so seriously, I wanted to make sure my wedding ring would never come off.) So of course I have to spend the next 10 mintues trying to see if I can get any of it off, and I finally give up and resign myself to feeling like a leper for the next few days until my totally chafed skin sheds off. I put the q-tips away upstairs and realize that there is a brand new box sitting right where I am trying to put the one I just bought. At dinner I realize I never gave Kyle the message from several days ago which primary class he has now and that he is supposed to teach tomorrow, I open the wrong end of the butter box so that I can't re close it, so I put it back on top of the two already opened butter boxes that are crowding the door of the fridge and not fitting, and decide that I have pretty much lost my marbles.

Some days you're the windshield; some days you're the bug

So, I’ve got a pretty good one for you guys. This is the sad, sad story of my new driver’s license picture, in which I am … yes, sobbing. (Warning: Settle in for the long version of this story. It seems that’s the only version I know how to tell for most of my stories …)

This story actually starts back in early December, when a series of unfortunate events resulted in my driver’s license getting suspended.

Event #1: I get a traffic ticket for an illegal U-turn. Sigh. I mail in the payment.

Event #2: The court sends me a notice saying the payment arrived late, and that my license will be suspended unless I pay extra court fees by December 26.

Event #3: I go to Utah for Christmas and don’t get back until December 29. I read the notice.

So, on Monday I went to the courthouse to pay the fine and sort everything out. Then I hauled over to the DMV and pay another fine to get my license un-suspended (a total of $241 so far for this one little infraction). Then I was informed that I would need to apply for a new driver’s license, and that it would cost me an additional fee. Huh?

I tried to decline, saying I’d like to keep the old one, thank you, but was told this was not an option. “Why, I asked? My license is right here, just scan the little code and make everything right and give it back to me.” Zip, zip. “I’m sorry, ma’am, that’s not our policy.” “Wait, all I did was mail a payment in a day late, and now I have to apply for a new license? That’s ridiculous.” “That’s our policy. Oh, and to get your new license, you’ll need to show proof of citizenship – a birth certificate or a passport.”

“What? You have my old license right there. I’ve had a Virginia license for seven years, I’m a U.S. citizen, I have been my entire life.” “Ma’am, a driver’s license is not proof of citizenship, I’ll need a birth certificate or a passport.” I said, “That’s a stupid policy.” He said, “No ma’am, it’s a stupid LAW.” “Yeah, like I said – it’s stupid.”

So, I was forced to drive home to get my passport, and then back to the DMV. I used the drive to regain control of myself (I have a tendency to cry when I’m angry, even more so than when I’m hurt), and when I got back, the man behind the counter said he didn’t recognize me. “You were here today?” “Yes.” “This morning?” “Yes.” “I don’t remember you.” He kept this up for a while. The woman next to him finally said, “He remembers you, he’s just pulling your chain.” Then he started in with, “Have we met? Do I know you from somewhere?” (The same routine he tried when I came to the counter the first time.) “No, we’ve never met.” I tried to be nice, though, and apologize for being angry earlier, saying, “Well, it’s good if you don’t remember me, because I wasn’t being very nice the last time I was here.”

I don’t think I even saw him open my passport, just mark down that I had proof of citizenship. Then he asked, “How did you get to your house to get your passport? Did you drive?” “Yes.” “On a suspended license?” “Clearly.” “Do you know what could happen to you if you get pulled over driving on a suspended license?” “Well, I didn’t really have another option, did I?”

At this point I was marking the box on the application for a driver’s license that indicated I’d had my license suspended. In the space where I was to state the reason, he said, “Write, ‘Ticket unpaid.’” I glanced up, looked him in the eye and said firmly, “It wasn’t unpaid. It was paid one day late.” But I wrote, “Ticket unpaid” on the line. “That’s right,” he sneered.

This was about the time the angry tears started again, but I pushed them back and handed him the form. I stood there trying to control myself while he entered my information. I told him I’d also received a notification about my car registration, and that I needed to renew it while I was there. He took my old registration and asked, “Did you get a new emissions test?” “No. The letter didn’t say anything about that. It said to bring in a particular form to renew it, and here it is.” “You have to have an emissions test every two years, and you need one this year.” “Why didn’t you say that in the letter you sent?” “I don’t know what letter you got, ma’am. But you need an emissions test.” “Are you kidding me?” “No.” “But I just had the safety inspection done.” “That’s a different thing. You need an emissions test. I can give you an extension … for a fee.”

Well, by now I must have looked real pitiful. Tears were streaming down my face. He was not moved; he did not think mine was a special case. But he did hand me a box of Kleenex, just before he said, “Please step to the right so we can take your picture for your new license.”

The more I tried to stop crying, the angrier I got because I was crying, and the more that made me cry. The girl taking the pictures was actually pretty nice, and offered to let me go to the “powder room” to calm down, but I said I wasn’t likely to stop crying if I went in there, and told her to just take it. The result:

You may or may not be able to tell from this scanned image, but note the red eyes, the tear tracks, the snot, the overall redness, and the lack of remaining eyeliner on my left eye.

I know, you’re thinking, that’s really sad/funny, and now the story is over. No! There’s a kicker. Just a little one. (Not to mention the bumper-to-bumper traffic I encountered as soon as I left the DMV.)

I was about halfway to work when my phone rang. A restricted number. Umm, ok … “This is Allison.” “Allison, this is xxxxxx (the guy from the DMV). I think I gave you the wrong stickers for your registration extension. The ones I gave you won’t do you any good. Can you check and see which stickers I gave you?’” I dig through my purse while attempting not to swerve into the pickup truck one lane over. Turns out they are indeed the wrong stickers. “How far are you from the DMV? Can you come back to get the other stickers?”

“No. No. No, I can’t.”

Luckily, he mailed me the stickers, and I can finish the rest of the process online. But the picture on my license … that will last until 2011. Maybe next time I get pulled over, I won’t even have to try to cry for the cop. I’ll just show him my driver’s license.

Welcome

Have you ever walked home from the bus stop, wondered why your car isn't in the driveway, and remembered you drove to work today? Have you ever made a trip to the grocery store for strawberries and returned home to find your fridge stocked with ... the strawberries you bought yesterday? Have you ever tried to hold an elevator door open and had your hand stuck ... for fifteen minutes?

You have? Well, then, welcome to our world! This blog is especially for people (like us) who consistently find ourselves in situations that are so frustrating at the time, so funny later. Be sure to add your story, and visit often, whether for comic relief or just to know you're not alone.

By the way, the name of this blog comes from an e-mail exchange between my sister Emily and me several years ago. Emily wrote a funny synopsis of an experience she had in an elevator, and I wrote back with four words: Welcome to my World. Since then, anytime one of us see a message with the title "Welcome to my World," we know we're in for good laugh ... possibly at the other's expense ... in a good way :)

So, um ... WELCOME :) It's nice here. You'll like it.