Fun With Autocorrect Ep. 2

Just for kicks, sometimes I like to Swype out adventures and not correct the autocorrect...you know, just to see what happens. Here we go!

Walking The New Scary Trail

Being as rubber is ruin, but I'm not one to Rt new things very often. Do when I rub, I like to rib the same paths over and over. My favorite places to run ate up and down a nearby street, out just sound and sorry the mile loop at a park.

But in the pat few months, a new ridiculously long ruining trail had opened yo near whet I line. Lots of my running friends have tagged about it, so I figures I'd give it a Rt. But I have to admit, I was a little nevis. I don't like new things, being socially weekend and all. 

In fact, I might not have tried out ie at all if it weren't for the fact that the trial opens up at the soccer complex where the girls I watch have soccer practice. I took one of the girls I've night and figured I mint ad well walk the trial during get ninety mine practice.

After doing the fourteen year pork of at her field, I made may way to the trail. It was light it, but not stingy. It was one if those spooky overcast hats that make you feel as thought you were in a horror mine.  Before I even got to the trail, I felt crepes out.

I started walking the trail, trying to fitter out the mile markings. It was not vet easy. I tried memorizing kamala, like signs and Ricks and random tank things.

About a quarter mile in, I saw an overlord that had a sign sniff beavers. It said that beavers livers in the area automating the trail, and even tooth they mainly titled at night, I might see stoke fallen tees out fans, evidence if the beavers.

So I stared looking door breeders and I walked. Mostly I just saw birds and squirrels and scary looking runner dudes that could have killed me if tiger decided that works be mute fun than running.

I didn't like how remote the trail seemed on that spooky, sunless day. I always feel safe if I fugees um in screaming distance of other Perle. In the two, only the scary runners, the squirrels, the hurts, and the elusive braces could hear me.

That want enough to make NE feel safe.

Plus, I was listening to Mt ruining app admit zombies, which always makes ruining mite freaky dink.

Well, I finally decided to walk back to the cover complex, still crepes it's by the remit trail, when ourof the Crowder of my err, I saw something mice in the first! Was it a scary runner murdered dude? Was it a zombie? Was it a cranky pants squirrel?

No. It was a brave. It saw me and scanners array, but it was dorky as beaver.

In the way back to the complex, I finally figured air the mile markets, at least somewhat. I figured if try that trail out again assert all.

The next tinge I walked it, the sun was shining. There ware less scary ruining dudes and lots of other waffling and ruining ladies. There were squirrels and birds, but no beavers.

Aww.

I guess the question still relations. If e call then beavers, why Sony three brave?

SAA Ep. #73: The Grown Up Birfday

I turned another year older the other day. Well, actually, I just turned another day older, but another number was added to my age, making it seem as if an entire year had passed while I peacefully slept. I went to bed one night as a young, beautiful, talented, humble girl of 32.  I woke up the next morning and was suddenly the same age Jesus was when He died.

Birthdays can be real jerks.

I never saw them like that as a kid. I guess getting older was cool back then, and the day really was all about me. The clearest birthday in my memory was my sixth birthday. I wore this wonderfully awful pink 80s sweatsuit. I wore it to match what I knew I would get at school. I had, in fact, been waiting for it all year. The Birthday Crown.

I think I hear angels singing, even after all these years.

Yeah, so the Birthday Crown was a silly hat made out of construction paper. But to a kindergartener, it was serious bidizness. Which rappers have led me to believe is more serious than regular type business.

I think the Birthday Crown meant even more to me than it did to other kindergartners. My mom had just had another baby (a brother, and not the little sister I wanted) four months prior to my sixth birthday, which kind of forever sealed my fate as the attention-seeking middle child. You'd better believe that Birthday Crown was important.

I asked for a pink one, even though the weary-looking TA already had pink paper waiting to go. I'm pretty sure I ruined pink for that lady forever. She probably still gets nervous around bottles of pepto bismal, and wakes up from nightmares about bubble gum monsters.

Yeah, she wrote my name and age on the Birthday Crown. She measured it to my head and secured it with scotch tape. ...and, just like that, it was on like Diddy Kong.

I don't actually know what that last phrase even means.

Anyway, I wore that stupid paper crown all day. All. Day. I wore it to the cafeteria, knowing that the lunch ladies would gush over me as they served me a rectangular pizza-like substance. And they did. My Birthday Crown meant that everyone would know it was my special day. I did princess waves. I batted my eyelashes. It was all about me, as children are led to believe birthdays should be.

Fast-forward 19 years. I got dumped on my 25th birthday. Uh...let's move on...

Birthdays as a grown up just aren't as cool as kid birthdays. Not only is getting older suddenly not fun anymore, but we can't stop the world and make it all about us anymore.

I had to go to work on my birthday-on a Monday, no less. And no one remembered. No one brought me a cupcake or anything  :-(. So I went about my business, watching kids as if it were any other day. I must admit, I thought about making myself a pink Birthday Crown so everyone would see the importance of my special day, but for whatever reason, acceptable six-year-old behavior is frowned upon when you're 33.

My car payment was due on my birthday. I mean, shouldn't banks just let me have a month "on the house" when it's my birthday? If I were a six year old, I bet they would. But I've never seen a six year old take out a tricycle loan....

I was also sick on my birthday. A cold. A tummy ache. Good job, Birthday Fairies. I asked for a David Tennant and a T.A.R.D.I.S.  for my birthday. You give me snot. Not what I asked for. You fail, Birthday Fairies. 

Well, I decided I wanted pancakes for my birthday. Some people have this rule that birthday calories don't count. It would be nice if that were true, but I'm pretty sure the scale doesn't distinguish between birthday calories and regular calories. There would be weight related consequences if I ate a whole cake on my birthday. Calories are another grown up birthday downer.

Anyway, because I still wanted birthday pancakes, regardless of calories, I invited a bunch of people over to IHOP. I figured out if there was going to be any birthday awesomeness, I'd have to generate it for myself. When I was a kid, birthday awesomeness just happened. Was it the Birthday Fairies? Was it Mom and Dad? Was it that everything just seemed more awesome when I was a kid? Idk. Birthdays just aren't as easy as they used to be.

I mean, I had to drive myself to IHOP. On my birthday. I had to observe the speed limit and obey traffic laws, because I'm pretty sure that police officers still expect you NOT to go 80 in a 55 zone on your birthday. But you know what? Even though I was careful to obey traffic laws and not get a birthday ticket (Aww, Mr. Police Man, you shouldn't have!), I still got rear ended. On my birthday.

I was sitting at a stoplight, minding my own birthday bidizness, and suddenly "BANG!" I just shook my head, thinking about how my rear bumper had probably just gone the way of its fathers.

The Birthday Fairies were kind enough to grant me some grace with that. The lady who rear ended me was a mess. Her foot had slipped off the brake. She was stressed out. She was nearly in tears. The amazing thing was, neither one of our cars were damaged. At all. I still had a bumper. It wasn't even scratched (well, not from THAT accident). My beloved half marathon sticker wasn't even scuffed. So I gave the stressed-out stranger lady an awkward hug, because, well, I'm a hugger.

And we went on our ways.

Because dealing with car insurance junk for no good reason on my birfday? Ain't nobody got time fo dat!

It was too early for pancakes (wait, that isn't possible-let's say I was too early for pancakes for dinner), so I went window shopping. Because I didn't have money to buy random stuff, and stores don't generally give away stuff just because it's my birthday...sigh.  Seriously, having birthdays as a grown up just isn't as cool.

As a kid, birthdays were incredible. I got attention and special treatment. It was like being a princess for a day.

Then, being a grown up happened, and suddenly birthdays are just ordinary days. You have to pay bills and deal with stuff like car issues and sickness. You have to go to work. No one notices or cares. You have to think about calories. Sometimes you even get your heart broken. Because sometimes grown-up birthdays are jerks.

But I went to IHOP with some lovely friends. I got attention and love, I got presents (including a Captain America puzzle that is almost as awesome as a David Tennant). I got free pancakes, because IHOP offers a free meal for birthdays. Because some people get it that birthdays are still pretty special days.

And I even got a Birthday Crown.