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Power Outage

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Well YESTERDAY was an exciting morning! Sarcasm: check.

I struggle to get out of bed. Every. single. morning. It doesn’t matter if it is 4AM or 2PM, when my alarm goes off, the only thing that I want to do it turn it off, not even snooze it, turn it COMPLETELY off, roll over and close my eyes once again. Especially if a dream was interrupted. This whole not-wanting-to-wake-up thing is going to REALLY be a pain after Memorial Day when summer hours start, and I’ll have to be at the office at 7:15… When I struggle to leave my APARTMENT at 7:15. Shoot.

Anyways, yesterday morning was like any other morning, including hitting the snooze 3 times and then having a heart attack when I realized that it was 6:30 ALREADY, and SHOOT if I didn’t get in the shower NOW I would look like a wreck at work. So I got up.

At 6:50, juuuuuust as I was straightening the last out-of-control piece of hair on my head, the power went out. AWESOME. I stood in my bathroom for about 5 minutes brainstorming.

If my power is out, I…
… can’t finish styling my hair
… can’t put on my make-up
… can’t make my bowl of oatmeal
… can’t OPEN MY GARAGE DOOR. Ohhhh mother.

At 6:54 I called my boss, who I knew would already be at the office.

Boss: G’morning this is Sara’s boss.

Sara: Hiiiiiiiii Bossssss, this is Sara Vanderstappen calling.

Boss: … Are you ok?

Sara: Oh yeahhh, I’m juuuuust fine. I might be a little bit late to work today though. You see, my power went out? And I can’t open my garage door without the clicker? So… I can’t really drive to work without my car…

Boss: Alright, Sara, that’s just fine. Now, don’t start panicking, you’ll be alright.

For the record, I wasn’t panicking at all. But he’s seen me panic before – he knows me so well.

So, I continued standing in the middle of my living room. In the dark. Then, I decided that I could brush my teeth.

Mid-teeth cleaning, the power went back on!!! Using my brains, I threw my toothbrush in the sink (I turned it off first. It’s electric. And one time – I have no idea how this happened – it fell out of my mouth while it was still on, and I was really proud of myself because I caught it in my hand, but then I was an idiot again, because I was standing in front of the mirror with my electric toothbrush still on, and there was toothpaste EVERYWHERE. Including in my hair and on my face. Not one of my finer moments…) and ran over to my living room where the clicker to my garage door sits on the entertainment center. I opened my garage door, just in case the power decided to go out again.

JUST when I was screwing the top of my mascara back into the base, the power went out AGAIN. UGHHHHHHHH so ANNOYINGGGGGG. And apparently no one else in my building has to get to work at an early hour, so no one else cared.

I ate a bowl of cereal, packed my lunch (all in the dark), and was on my way. My garage door stayed open for the day, but it’s no big deal because the only thing in my garage is a shovel that cost $3.00. Knock yourself out, thieves.

As I was driving, I noticed (kind of hard not to…) that the stoplights were out. Havoc was wreaking among the citizens of Northwest Green Bay! Just kidding, every one was actually really calm, cool, and collected, and took turns and everything so no one got killed. So that was nice.

When I got to work, it was pouring rain outside, and so I was “running” from my car to the building, because since it was dark in my apartment when I left, I couldn’t find my umbrella. As I was “running” in the pouring rain, I hear something clatter to the ground and fall face-down into a puddle.

My phone.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I picked it up and continued to the building. Upon arrival at my desk, I mopped up my phone and took out the battery. That would have to sit for a little bit.

The next thing I did was do a little research about the power outage that I experienced. This is what I found:

Do you see the red? Where “5001+” customers are affected? That’s where I live.

Great.

My phone was doing some crazy stuff all day yesterday, but finally started working normally, and when I got home from work last night after a stop at the mall to return some shoes, a stop at Orange Julius to pick up a little treat for Peter, and a stop at Peter’s office where everyone was working WAY late, all of my lights were on. I guess the power went back on around 1. WHEW good thing I thought fast and opened my garage door when the power was on for that little bit of time!!

And it’s a good thing I had the sense to turn off my straightener so that the building didn’t burn down.

Because that would have REALLY sucked.

Hiding places

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As many of you know, and shame on you if you don’t, yesterday was another miraculous holiday where Peter and I went down to Lake Geneva to visit our families and eat copious amounts of food and candy: Easter Sunday.


I am always amazed by two things on this holiday.  The first and more important though I will write less about it is that a man died for our sins and then rose up again.  Astonishing.  Could you IMAGINE running into Jesus after you had seen him crucified only three days ago?  Talk about scared to death… How about scared to LIFE?!  Anyways, during the Easter mass I always think about the shock and awe these people must have experienced.  I am sure that I would have passed out.


The second thing that I’m always amazed by is the Easter bunny.  The Easter bunny that comes to the Vanderstapp-Inn hides baskets and eggs every year.  The Easter bunny that stops by the Romenesko house always remembers that Peter has a girlfriend whose soul purpose on this earth is to eat candy.  I love this bunny.


Can we just call the Easter bunny that stops by the Vanderstappen house Nancy?  I mean, Nancy is so much easier to type than Easter bunny.  Sweet.


Nancy has been hiding Easter eggs and baskets for upwards of 20 years.  I’m not quite sure when the whole finding-the-basket thing started, but let’s just guess that it started when Jenna was 4.  And by then, there were 3 kids.  Let’s analyze this.


Easter 1990: Jenna (4), Sara (2), Marty (1), Adrianna through Rachel (not even a twinkle in the Easter bunny’s eye) = 3 baskets


Easter 1992: Jenna (6), Sara (4), Marty (3), Adrianna (1), Taylor (possibly a fleeting thought in the Easter bunny’s mind), Laura and Rachel (Yeah… not even an inkling yet) = 4 baskets


Easter 1994: Jenna (8), Sara (6), Marty (5), Adrianna (3), Taylor (1), Laura (possibly a consideration), Rachel (Rachel WHO?!) = 5 baskets


Easter 1996: Jenna (10), Sara (8), Marty (7), Adrianna (5), Taylor (3), Laura (1),  Rachel (in the womb) = 6 baskets


…


Easter 2011: Jenna (25), Sara (23), Marty (22), Adrianna (20),  Taylor (18), Laura (16), Rachel (14) = 7 baskets


Disclaimer – I’m not that good at math and ages and stuff, but I think I figured out ages and numbers right by careful consideration of everyone’s birthdays.  But you get the picture.  Nancy has a LOT of baskets to hide.


On to another calculation: If by Easter of 1997, there were 7 baskets to hide, that is 14 years of the maximum number of baskets to hide.  Now realistically, we have to make that only 6 baskets to hide, because Laura couldn’t even find her basket that was behind a picture frame this year, so 6 baskets times 14 years.  That equals EIGHTY FOUR HIDING PLACES.  That is a LOT of hiding places.


The kicker?  Every year, there is at least ONE basket that we can’t find.   HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?  We always check the main spots first.  Behind the TV (although I don’t think there was EVER a basket there), on the porch, in the oven, in the fridge (we’re not that smart), etc.  Although we have a three story home (scary basement, main level, and then upstairs where Nancy’s 7 angels soundly sleep (slept)), the hiding places have always been limited to the main level.  Which makes finding 84 hiding places even MORE impressive.  


Every year there is the poor lone child (usually Adrianna or Jenna) that is still looking in every nook and cranny  for their basket while everyone else has set up shop pulling things out of their baskets ooh-ing and aah-ing and indulging in the candy at 7:30 in the morning.  But it’s a holiday, so Mom’s not allowed to yell at us.


Although, this year, when we were looking for our baskets, Dad said loudly enough for everyone to hear (especially the Easter bunny), “I hope that there isn’t ANY candy in the baskets this year.  Who needs candy in this house?  NO ONE.  Who eats it all?  ME.”  When we found our baskets, guess who was the second person aside from the owner to dig in?  Dad. Typical.


When we sort through our baskets, we all start making trades with the candy, and then Mom give us the SAME schpeel EVERY year: “I am NOT giving ANY of you ANY more candy.  You are SO unappreciative!  I thought you liked Whoppers!!  How was I supposed to know you didn’t like them?!  NEXT YEAR YOU WON’T GET ANY MORE CANDY.”  


But the Easter bunny doesn’t have a very good memory, because every year we get candy in our baskets and the same scene plays out even though we’re older and (supposedly) wiser.  What are you going to do?  Enjoy a Reese’s egg.


As soon as we were all hyped up on candy, we were expected to sit quietly through Easter mass.  That is always a challenge.


So anyways, let’s all just take a moment and lend our appreciation to the Easter bunny for hiding baskets for so long.


Here’s to 20 more years!!


Mom … I’m not kidding.

You still have time!

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Dear everyone,


You still have ONE MORE WEEK to get raffle tickets for Lakeland School’s School Fest!  Until April 29 (which happens to be a certain Matt’s birthday)!!  If you didn’t, read the post about my sister Laura and Lakeland School, and contact me 🙂

Can we reach the $200 dollar mark of raffle tickets from blog readers alone?!  The last update that I’ve heard from Nancy is that we have just over $150… soooooo cloooooooose.

On behalf of Laura, my siblings, my parents, and Lakeland School – THANK YOU for the AMAZING support.  It just makes me so happy.

Sara


Ode to my Honda Civic

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Oh, Honda Civic, how I love thee.
Today on my odometer, you read sixty thousand and three.

Many the miles that we have shared together,
Through tornadoes and blizzards, and all sorts of weather.

You’ve gotten me home safely when I was scared to tears,
So much crying, in fact, that I am judged by my peers.

But Honda, you never judge my state of being!
And you’ve seen them all – experienced more than the boy that I’m seeing!

You have witnessed my rage, my anxiety, and fear,
And yet you still start, so your wheel I can steer.

You let me laugh, shout, sing, and dance,
And you never judge me, like other drivers that look in my window, by chance.

When I stare at other drivers driving along beside me,
You just keep cruising along, even when Peter tells me that through my windows, they can see.

And then when I’m embarrassed, because they caught me staring,
Unlike Peter, you don’t scold me, with “I told you so” eyes glaring.

There has only been one time, that I thought about trading you in,
and that was last weekend, when it was raining/snowing like sin.

It wasn’t your fault, it was the blasted windshield wipers!
They wanted to be in control, those jealous vipers!!

They suddenly took on a mind of their own.
Even turned off, they still ran full blown!

I tried controlling them, tried every speed!
But those damned wipers just had to have the lead!

Off, slow, and medium they went medium speed,
but the rain didn’t last, so the wipers I didn’t need.

So there I was, driving along with no rain,
and my wipers were going – oh what a pain.

I was so embarrassed driving with wipers still going,
I looked like an idiot, and those wipers weren’t slowing.

When I reached my destination, and turned you, dear Honda, off,
Those wipers, I SWEAR, I heard those wipers scoff.

Oh Honda Civic, with miles of sixty thousand and three,
That’s like driving around the world along the equator times two point for-tee!!

I can tell that you care for me, you are no creep,
Especially when I am not buckled, and you let out a beep. 

You let me punch the radio buttons hour after hour,
Because I can’t find the song that gives my voice full power.

You don’t get mad when you’re so salty that it looks like your white,
I’m so happy that even though I don’t want to pay for a car wash, you still drive without a fight.

You sit there and wait, when my garage door fails to rise,
When I am about to faint because that door will be my demise.


I was panicking as it was my first day of my new job,
And I was going to be late and look like a slob!


Near tears there I was, trying to get that door open,
I was very near to giving up hopin’.


Brainstorming ways to get to work at eight,
Sweating so much – I couldn’t be late!!

When the door finally opened, and I plopped into your seat,
You started with a purr, by the garage door you won’t be beat!

When I wave my fist at the way other people drive,
You stay so calm – for this I should strive.


Some days I’m angry; I scream and I yell,
And you just keep going, driving along so well.

You put up with the booster seats of the kids I babysat,
You do not mind when on the phone I chat.

I love that digital speedometer in the shining blue light,
Except when annoying children can see I’m going one mile over and don’t shut up about it, then I wish you weren’t bright.

Nasty little children, spilling ice cream on the seat belt!
Leaving crayons, candy, and crumbs on your floor, how horrid that must have felt!

But don’t you worry dear Honda, when I get a raise,
I will pay for a detail – I will give you my praise!!


Even though your horn sounds like it should be on MarioKart,
I’ve learned to accept it; I’ve learned to get smart.


So, Honda Civic, though your horn embarrasses me,
I have still decided to write this ode to thee.

But now I am realizing I might jinx our relationship that’s so healthy,
So PLEASE, Honda Civic, don’t crap out on me until I’m really, REALLY wealthy. 

I’m up to my eyebrows in severe weather.

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Not that I want you to feel sorry for me or anything.



But you can if you want.  


We’re only expecting like, 10 inches of snow or something.


How is the Easter bunny going to get around this weekend?


I hope he still comes!!!


That reminds me.  


This one time, Jenna and I had to go out to the barn on Easter morning (around 4AM), and when we were in the basement getting ready to go outside, I heard the Easter bunny.


He was coming from upstairs.


We never figured it out.

Facebook friends.

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Nancy Vanderstappen is on Facebook.  In college, I was always like, “No WAY would I add you on Facebook!!  Laaaaaaaame.” And she was all, “Well, what do you have to hide????” and I was in her face with, “MY OTHER LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!”


But that was a long time ago when I was young and stupid and fought with my mother about silly things.  Which NEVER happens anymore… (right Mom?)


On Wednesday it happened.  I became Facebook friends with my MOTHER.



It’s official.  I’m REALLY (gulp), OFFICIALLY friends with my mom now.  Because we all know that something isn’t real until it’s on Facebook.  It took 23 years.  But here I stand.  

Nancy will enjoy the Facebook world, I’m pretty sure.  A big reason is because she will realize how many of my friends like her based on her comments on my blog.  
Exhibit A:

 Mom is sooooo funny telling everyone how much I like spending her monayyyy.

Exhibit B: 

See?!  She already likes that people want to “like” all of her comments!  PROOF!

I see several problems with this whole Mom-on-Facebook thing…

PROBLEM 1. Is my mother… FUNNIER than me?!  Could this really be happening?!  This is not right!!!  Is she going to steal all of my friends??  I’m getting all worked up, which translates to sweating, and my GOD is that a cold sore I feel coming??  MOM YOU’RE STRESSING ME OUT AND YOU’RE 3 HOURS AWAY FROM ME.

Attention Nancy:  STOP BEING FUNNY.  YOU’RE TAKING THE ATTENTION OFF OF ME AND YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE ATTENTION!!!  

Sighhhhhh

PROBLEM 2.   Now that Nance is on Facebook, she can read all of the comments that I put on my photos.  And now she can fight back.


Exhibit C: 
Clearly, I posted this comment BEFORE I knew she would see it.

Now, I’m going to have to watch what I say!  No making fun of Mom behind her back!  No more sarcastic comments directed at Mom, because they were only made because Mom wasn’t supposed to ever see them, and now I can get in TROUBLE for them!

So now, I have to go through my Facebook and delete pictures, comments, ANYTHING that is NOT for my mother’s eyes.  Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Really though, I don’t mind that my mother is on Facebook.  Because this is her “about me”:


Do you see that?  7 beautiful children.  One of those 7 children is me.

And Mom?  You’re not allowed to yell at me for throwing that little tantrum about you being funnier than me.  We’re friends now, remember?