Be like the squirrel, girl. Be like the squirrel

I’ve realized that leaving a blog talking about a concussion as the latest one for a week is probably not a good idea, especially when I had been blogging a little more frequently than that. Those of you in different parts of the country don’t have the opportunity to see that I am fine, walking and talking like normal, rather than a veggie in a hospital bed. But then again, those of you who know me also know that I am a hypochondriac and no matter how badly I described it or how potent the potato wedge stench was - fortune never lets me actually be injured. In pain? Yes. Sick to my stomach? Yes. But it’s never serious, and unfortunately the day it is no one will believe that I am not exaggerating.
I thought I should let you know that I have a spider, under a cup, in my room. It’s been there since Monday and it just won’t die. I can’t let it loose because I feel certain that it will only return to my room as I think this is its second visit to my room. I thought I killed him the first time, but when I went to check on his mangled body the next morning it was gone. I knew he had to be alive because I was hoping I didn’t have something else in my room that would make a midnight snack out of a dead spider’s body. He’s like the Russian guy on Lost, don’t know if you watch that show, but the Russian just won’t die and he keeps coming back for more! So my little Russian Spider sits under a cup, under a metal basket, acting as a door stop. Sometimes I tap the glass and watch him scatter from one end to another in his small living space. Sometimes though he jumps at the glass/plastic, cementing my decision to keep him locked up. When he is most certainly dead I’ll scoop his body up with a piece of paper and flush him down the toilet, or maybe I’ll make my roommate do it, just in case he revives. She’s braver.

Tuesday night I realized that Richmond is not a very large city. It made me reminiscent of my misconceptions with Idaho Falls, it was only when I became lost and passed by the Great Harvest Bread store for the third time that I realized I wasn’t dealing with NYC. So Tuesday I had the same revelation about Richmond as I oriented myself and realized that from where I was standing I could see three places that I had previously thought were on opposite sides of the city. No, Richmond is not that small, but I had never realized that Bottom’s Up was right there by Have a Nice Day Café and the old train station. Which meant that they are all close to Broad Street and also near the Farmer’s Market, Poe Museum, and the Capitol.

Also on Tuesday I gave parallel parking another shot. In high school I passed Driver’s Ed pretty effortlessly, with the exception of parallel parking and emergency breaking (that would explain a lot). I have tried to parallel park since high school but have often found ways of avoiding it. Tuesday I realized I was just going to have to parallel park. I found a spot and then spent the next couple of minutes trying to do it right. I started to back in and realized I was either going to hit the wall with my back bumper or the car in front of me with the front bumper. So I pulled out again, and attempted for the second time, again, failure. On the third try I was determined as well as laughing. How embarrassing! I was just hoping that no Yo’s on the street were watching the Bo-Bo (or as little baby Busath would say, Bootsie) West Ender try to parallel park. My only real comfort was that Nicole, a girl from church, was two spots down trying to do the same thing and failing miserably. As I finally got into my spot I saw her drive by, giving up, and a cop driving behind her. I watched to make sure she wasn’t getting pulled over and then decided she had given up because the cop wouldn’t pass her, which in the end turned out to be what really happened.

That’s pretty much all I’ve got for you right now, but I wanted to be certain that you knew I wasn’t dead. Oh and props to Sarah with the squirrel, it may have been an accident but you’ve done our team proud.