A Bad Day

In general, people have a proportioned amount of luck. For example, people might have a flat tire in the morning, but, by the time they arrive home, they have had some sort of luck during the day that pulled them out of their own defeat. I, however, do not have this natural luck or the ability to be pulled out of my own defeat. I tend to grovel in it. My worst day ever will live in infamy. It was filled with death, explosions, and meteors. I do not know how I survived it, but I do know that I will never be the same because it.

The morning started eerily ominous. You could feel death in the air. I brushed my teeth and then proceeded to go feed my fish Geraldo. Geraldo and I go way back. He was given to my parents the day I was born. Twenty-four years later we shared an apartment together. As I approached the fish bowl, I witnessed a horrific sight – Geraldo was floating at the top. I rushed to the tank frantically, but it was too late. He was already gone. I sat with him and cried for hours. I did not know how I was going to carry on without my dear friend. I finally worked up the courage to get dressed to bury Geraldo. As we were leaving, I buckled him in the seatbelt one last time. It hurt; this was the end for the both of us.

Shortly after pulling out on the interstate, heading toward the pet cemetery, I smelled a strange, burning smoke coming out of the engine. Naturally, I pulled over to investigate. As I popped open the hood of my 1924 Model T, flames jumped out and engorged my car. I ran over to save the corpse of my Geraldo, but once again I was too late. The car exploded. Geraldo was officially a crispy fish stick. The firemen came to came to the rescue to extinguish the fire. Traffic was backed up for miles, and I could hear random shouts and yells from all directions, cursing me for the inconvenience I was causing them. I wish I had the strength in me to let them know I was already cursed – this day had made sure of that – but I couldn’t. I had been defeated for a second time.

I had only made it a few miles before my car and my fish died, so, with my head hung low, I started my journey home. The walk was lonely. I cried and walked. I couldn’t remember a day as bad as this day had been. It was one thing after another, without even a chance to regain a sense of stability or reality. A few blocks away from my apartment I could smell burning (again). I smelled my clothes thinking the remembrance of my car might have been lingering. No, that was not it. As I drew closer to my apartment, I began to see reporters, fire trucks, and a N.A.S.A. van. With adrenaline running through my body, I ran over to find out what was going on. To my awe my apartment was not there, only remains of it, scattered across the road. Nobody would talk to me because it was all a top secret phenomenon that had just happened. As I listened to the nosy neighbor Mrs. Manycats, I discovered that a meteor had hit my apartment, destroying everything! This was by far the worst day ever!

Admitting defeat I went to stay at my parents’ house indefinitely. I went to bed just out of shear depression, and when I woke up it almost seemed like it all had to be a very bad nightmare – there is no way someone could have that much bad luck consistently in one day. Regaining my consciousness, I realized it was possible, and it did happen. This day changed my life; it was filled with death, explosions, and meteors. I survived it, and I will never take any fish, car, or apartment for granted again.



The attack of the Gas Station Bathrooms

I am afraid of many things I encounter. When I was younger I was afraid of Freddy Kruger. When I got older it was the fear of getting "caught" doing whatever I was doing wrong. As an adult, I am afraid to get bad grades. Throughout my years the fear of gas station bathrooms has always stayed with me. I am sure it started as a young child. We would travel nineteen hours about once a year to visit relatives. Obviously, there were many restroom stops with three young children. I have never had a bad experience in one of these death machines; but, I am sure if you do the research you would discover that all sexually transmitted diseases, bacterial, and viral infections are bred there. They are greasy and smell like an old person once lived there and then died. It is gross.

Gas station bathrooms are all the same. What I really fear is the fact that they have a cleaning chart that is to be initialed when it has been cleaned of its infectious bio-waste. In theory, this is a wonderful idea, but the problem is it is never signed or signed two weeks ago. Which means you and every trucker has sat on the same seat for the past two weeks without any sign of Clorox ever touching the seat! (You are now allowed to stand up and puke; I will be here when you return). I recently had the opportunity to visit one of the old style kind of set up; the bathroom on the outside of the building that you have to access by a key because it is so special and fancy. When I entered the bathroom I knew it had to be the scene of an old horror movie. There were yellowish and reddish stains in places that just did not make sense. I had to dodge spiders and old cobwebs, and I am sure that had I been brave enough to look around the corner there would have been a pile of dead corpses.

Gas station bathrooms are infecting the world with their gross and dirty environments. You find one of these bathrooms in a “convenient” store. How often do you hear someone say “Hey, do you want to go to the store? I conveniently need to contract some crazy disease!” They lure us in with their convenience and then send us back on the road with whatever microscopic monster that is growing in the stalls of the bathroom.

Bathrooms are gross and scary. We let our bodily functions control us and it requires us to use these dirty bathrooms, In short, I fear gas station bathrooms. Not only for what they grow but for what they represent. I would rather have Freddy Kruger catch me doing something wrong and then chase me down with my report card that reveals all F’s than spend another moment of my life in a gas station bathroom.

Trying new things round 54...

So I actually opened my blogspot account almost a year ago. I had the intent on writing often and saying profound and awesome things that would give others the ability to get to know Bethany and not just the pizza girl, that girl in my class, the girl I went school with, or Josh's wife. I actually wrote all of two things...One I deleted because it was New Years Resolution and the remembrance of once again something I didn't see through is to much to take at the moment.

Once again, I am going to attempt my blogging endeavors. Why you ask? Well, I have been inspired to write mainly because of my ENGL1101 has slowly started to convince me that I do have the capability to write and be good at it. The other reason is because I am surrounded by awesome people...with awesome blogs...and its inspiring <3!

My new goal is to let everyone get to know me and everything important in my life that makes it what it is.

Luvs.