Bad First Meeting...

Whenever I work a weekend, I always get a day off during the week. Today I had off to compensate for having to work tomorrow. So I cleaned the apartment, took the trash out, did laundry, went grocery shopping, and met up with Scott.

Scott and I have been e-mailing short messages back and forth for about a week now. Our first conversation on the phone though, didn't go over so well.

Basically it was a list of all of the things Scott didn't like, that is until he discovered things I did appreciate. I like the town I live in. I like country music. And I love the melting-pot of people here.

So it shouldn't have been a surprise to me when I agreed to meet Scott, and he was as he described other people as being: a clusterfuck.

I should have known when he wanted to meet up a bowling alley, and I showed up at the one on a completely different route that it was going to be a horrible, no good very bad, red-headed step-child kind of meeting.

As I pulled into the parking lot, and found a parking space, I approached the front of the bowling alley and saw a person on their phone looking a bit distressed. He told the person on the phone, "Okay, my friend is here now." He got off the phone, gave me a creepy smile before peeking down my shirt, and and saying, "Wow! A normal person!"

He immediately sought out the food court portion of the bowling alley, and waited impatiently for service.

"Do you have water?" he asked harshly.

Now mind you that there is a sign right next to him says that water is $1.79 plus tax, but the woman decides to indulge him, and pulls out a bottle of water and explains that it costs $1.79 + tax.

He tells her no, and as she's putting it away he inquires as to how much the fountain water costs.

She explains that he would need to obtain water from the water fountain instead. So he makes her pull the water back out! And he's being rude the entire time.

As he's paying, he turns around and asks me if I want anything.

"Um, no thanks," I manage to utter.

We sit down at the small table they have set-up. He talks a bit about how he wants to move to Pittsburgh, and how it's such a great town.

There is nothing great about Pittsburgh. It's a small, boring town. There are more rural communities here, in which cows graze that are more exciting.

I stop him mid-sentence to ask him to excuse me for a moment.

I get up, look around anxiously for the bathroom before mouthing, "Bathroom?"

"Bathroom?" he yells. "Oh it's down the hall," he says gesturing. I head down the hall to the ladies room and take notice of only one other exit other than the main entrance. Of course it has to say, "Emergency Exit Only. Alarm Will Sound".

I enter the bathroom trying to come up with a good excuse to leave. Shit, shit, shit!

I leave the bathroom and sneak through the arcade, and manage to get out the front door without being seen. I stand plastered up against the stone wall slightly away from the window as I take off my high-heeled shoes. And then I make a run for it.

I run so fast to my car, sliding inside as if I'm sliding into home plate. My feeble fingers can't get the key into the ignition fast enough and soon I'm driving far, far, away from the creepy clusterfuck of a man that makes me feel dirty every time he looks down my shirt.

He texts me. I tell him that I'm violently ill. Not feeling well. Had to leave.

He calls. I send him to voicemail. He texts again.

And finally, I tell him that if he doesn't leave me alone, I will call the police.

And finally....nothing.

The Less Things Change, The More They Never Seem The Same..

It's officially 7:52 a.m. and I'm awake. Suffice it to say that I'm not a morninng person, and I can actually see the screen so I've been awake long enough to feel awake and put in contacts.

When I woke up this morning, I figured it HAD to be at least 9 a.m. Curiousity killed the cat and I peeked at my watch: 7:36 a.m., it read. So much for "sleeping in".

Much like when I was a child, anxiously anticipating the next morning to arrive as quickly as possible, on Christmas Eve, I wanted to bound through the house yelling, and waking everyone up. Only instead of yelling about how it's time to open presents, I'd be yelling that their guest is awake, so wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey. (Traditionally in the past this "ritual" has also involved jumping on certain, ahem, people's beds. (Beds, heads--wherever you land is always a mystery..lol).

Instead though, I allowed everyone to sleep in as I finally had a moment to take in my surroundings. I must say that everything still looks the same, and has the same feel to it. And the handsoap still smells deliciously nice. Other than a few minor adjustments someone not accustomed to seeing this home wouldn't be bothered to notice, it's exactly as I left it 4 months ago.

So why do I feel like an absolute stranger in my childhood home? Is it weird that my old room has no memory of me? And why do I feel so "out of place" being here? I grew up here. Here in PA. Here in the suburbs of Philly, and yet...this is not my home. NC is my home. Where my stuff is, where my "home" is. And where my heart is.

I love these people dearly, but I could never come back here, to live, as North Carolina stole my heart 10 months ago on my first visit, and I never got it back. What's weirder still is that I'm learning the less things change, the more they never seem the same.

Waitin' At The Airport...

Queue Brad Paisley's "Waitin' On A Woman" music, and change the lyrics to "Waitin' At the Airport!" perhaps the most boring thing EVER!

I've spent a great deal of time traveling back and forth between airports. Somehow, the men I always pick (and they aren't always good picks, just ask Josh), leave me running from airport to airport for whatever ridiculous reason. RDU and I are no strangers, annd I am certainly no stranger to sitting in an airport terminal.

I hate airports. Seriously. They're full of over-priced food, captivated audiences, and people in bad moods. As a society we hate to wait, and I'm guilty of it too! I just want to be at my next destination...yesterday. So much so that I wouldn't be proactive enough to drive.

Luckily for me, I brought my laptop (a decision I seriously (?!!!) considered not doing for this trip, and it's been a saving grace. So has Jason--making me make funny faces at the screen--amusing fellow passengers, and making me resist the urge to laugh out loud. Thanks dude, I owe you one.

So in the midst of "should I?, or shouldn't I?" I somewhat penned (if my "pen" is secretly my keys) the following entry:

I am resisting the urge to pay the ridiculous $10/24 hour (or whatever it really is…) fee at the airport and to log online. So far my adventures have led me to learn that I only live 40 minutes from the airport, leaving me both tired and excited for what lay ahead. ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

No calls yet, but I'm waiting. After all, so many people are excited by the idea of me returning to my hometown that now that I am, it seems almost surreal. It's difficult to imagine not having to pay for internet access, and I actually contemplated whether I wanted to drag my laptop along for the ride. I decided in favor simply for the mere fact that blogging "during" something is much more detail oriented, and more exciting than me slapping down bits and pieces after the fact.

The initial I.D. checker was cute, and consequently trying to impress me.

"Did you see that?"

I nodded, uncertain of what I was nodding in positive response to.

"What?" I asked.

He reached for his pocket flashlight and attempted to shine it over my I.D. again.

"That your light doesn't work?" I've been in a sarcastic mood all day thanks to the likes of Ashley. (Fondly known as Malibu Barbie)

He reached for another pocket-sized flashlight next to him, and in a swift moment shined it over my I.D. revealing the light sensitive words, Pennsylvania.

"Do you know that was there?" he inquired.

I nodded emphatically. "Yeah, I knew it was there. I travel a lot."

He seemed a bit disappointed when he told me that usually people think," that's so cool!" when he shows it to them.

I laughed and mentioned not for him to worry, I'd be back

Who Do You Want To Hurt?

Things with Jason have been progressing...nicely. Which is odd to me given that I didn't honestly expect them to. (Also ironic in that it's exactly what I wanted).

For example, our sack session have turned into sleep-overs (yes, I actually stay the entire night), and our sleep-overs have turned into multiple night occassions, and/or nights during the week. (We've had one of each thus far). No complaints there, I love spending time with him, and being even 10 minutes closer to work in the morning is nice!

But then some things will make me stop and question him. A perfect is example is our conversation on messenger one day. We're talking, blah, blah, blah and he sends me a link. "You have to see Stephanie [his roommate]'s new photo. It's scandalous."

Curiously, I click on the link to see a picture of Stephanie on HIS couch with her hands down her pants. Not all the way, but you get the point.

My bubble is bursted. "Did you take that picture?"

I meant it to sound more curious than demanding but I think the latter showed through despite there being two machines between us.

"Nope," he replied. "She did".

Other weird things have happened involving this girl. Like we'll be randomly hanging out, and I use the bathroom in the master bedroom. (His room). For two trips, the bed isn't made. The third trip it is.

Jason shrugs these little things off. "She doesn't pay rent," he tells me. And....

And weirder still, despite her having a bedroom, she continually leaves stuff in his room. Her shoes, possibly her curling iron....

We've had the "If I'm sleeping with you, I'm not sleeping with anyone else" discussion, but yet I see these things.

The icing on the cake was the "Junk Photo". Apparently one night Jason got really, really drunk and asked where her camera was. She told him, and he proceeded to take the camera into the bathroom and take a photo of his junk.

Now I was positively convinced they were sleeping together.

So, feeling concerned, I decided to dial someone that wasn't involved in this whole experience, and could offer me an unbiased, honest opinion. And that person happens to be Josh. He's 27, and in the almost 6 years we've been friends, he has never once lied to me, or pulled a punch. Consequently for him, neither have I. Literally.

"I need your opinion on a hypothetical situation," I said exasperated. And then I unloaded all of the details onto him.

"The camera thing could have involved him being drunk," he explained matter of factly. (I left the "being drunk" detail out on purpose). "But if you're at all in doubt that he's sleeping with someone else, then don't sleep with him. When it comes to matters of your health, it's not worth risking." And in true Josh fashion he said, "I don't want you to come back to Philly with a t-shirt that says, 'I went to North Carolina, and all I got were these gential warts'.

Of course talk of Jason inspired talk of Chris. Where are things? How am I feeling? Do I still love him?

Ultimately Josh left me with this question: Do you want to hurt the guy who's falling for you, or the guy who's dreaming of a white picket fence with you in 3-5 years? And before you decide, you need to ask yourself: Am I running like I always do, or am I legitimately not able to do this?

I'm hoping this weekend--out of town, back in my hometown--will shed some light on that.

Bawled Like A Hungry Baby (I A Topless Bar--A Tribute to Josh)

Today is the first day I've seen Chris in two weeks. There was a time, not so long ago, when I'd go out of my way to not miss a call, and the thought of going two weeks without seeing him positively made me want to throw-up.

Now though, living in the same state, and not actually being together, has left me feeling as though two weeks are a nice break.

It's also the first time since Chris didn't call me for all of those days, and I took it as divine intervention that we were not supposed to be together anymore. Guilty, guilty conscience? I don't know.

In the midst of my conviction, I wrote a brief note to Chris. I didn't start with my usual "hey babe" and I certainly didn't end with "I love you". What I did end with was, "Do we need a break?"

Needless to say, things were...awkward. What do you say in a moment like this? I can't apologize. I'm not sorry. I was serious. I was hurt. I can't make excuses--I stand behind my words.

But as the visit progressed, I realized again why I love Chris so much. His sense of humor, he easy feeling I get when I'm with him, and his overall personality.

"Just so you know, I didn't stand you up last week," I said.

"I know, I got that letter," he explained.

"Speaking of which," I inquired. "Are you getting my letters?"

While I've been delinquent on my visits, I have NOT been delinquent on my writing.

He got some of them. It figures he WOULD get the letter in which I ask if we need a break, and DOESN'T get the letter where I thank him for being an awesome boyfriend.

So maybe I'm going to hang onto this thing a while longer. I know that when I thought he left me, I didn't shed a tear. But when I knew he hadn't, I bawled like a baby.

The Start Of My Super Bad Day

Ever since I've been in North Carolina, I've always said that I would only return to PA permanently under two conditions: one, is that I become pregnant and a single parent somewhat simultaneously. The other is that I feel like I'm in so far over my head that I just can't get out. Right now I'm certainly feeling in over my head, but I'm not ready to cave in just yet.

Yesterday I dropped my car off early morning at Meineke with a note: Chrysler Sebring, please do alignment and oil change. Call if any problems and left my phone number.

When the man called me, he certainly didn't have good news. The oil change was done, they couldn't do the alignment because the problem was bigger than them (essentially they need to cut what looks like a plus sign into my mounts to allow the camera to move side-to-side, and front-to-back), and I had an exhaust leak. He encouraged me to come in to take a look at the car, to better understand what he was talking about.

It's easy to see that the pipes had been molded together by some powerful tool. The bad news was I had to replace two parts to fix the leak, and it was going to cost me $1600. Frustrated, I whipped out my Visa, and handed it over, cringing. That card already carries a high balance.

The parts didn't come in till today, so last night I took my car, and carried on with my inappropriate antics (that story still to come) as usual. So imagine my surprise today when I drop off my car and receive a call not an hour and a half later. "Your O2 sensors are bad," he tells me.

I really can't afford much more! But this time there was a little good news. "I'll give you the part at my cost," he explained, "this will save you money, and there won't be an extra labor charge."

But it was still another $120!

I made a quick call to my grandparents whom told me to tell him to go ahead, after all, I needed the car.

So now I'm faced with overage charges on my credit card, and HUGE payments to it every month. Maybe one day I'll be debt free. And when I am, I want to remember how I'm struggling right now--to be out on my own, and to pay for everything. And then, I want to pay "cash" for everything I acquire. Well, maybe not everything.

I'm Up For The Ride..

Now I'm sure while all of this "Jason-talk" hasn't inspired an uproar, much less a riot, I'm sure it has raised some questions. Probably the same question I've been repeatedly asking myself over and over again: What's up with the whole Chris deal?

And the truth is, that I don't know. I don't know if we're just changing as we go through the many stages of a relationship, or whether we're growing apart. I know that at 9 a.m. yesterday morning my phone rang from an "Unavailable" phone number. It had to be one of two people: Bally Total Fitness or Chris.

Granted, I don't get great reception in my apartment except for right in front of the patio doors in the living room. And I was not appropriately dressed to be flaunting my half-naked self to the world that early in the morning. But I also decided NOT to answer the phone at all. What kind of relationship does a person engage in that they don't want to talk to their significant other?

I think a lot of my lack of concern stems from guilt of breaking two promises. The first is cheating. The second is lying about it. I didn't directly lie about it, but it was a lie by omission. And to me, it doesn't matter that I had every intention of leaving Chris--the fact is that I didn't. And somehow, I think we're worse for that.

Lately he's been making comments that make me feel less than...adequate. Like he'll say things like, "I'm so glad we get to see each other for less than the 6 hours now." Which to me says, "I'm glad I'm not stuck with you for 6 hours." I get it, okay? The chairs are hard to sit in--they weren't designed to be comfortable. There's no privacy, no televisions or magazines or even books to read. All one can talk about are things outside of the room that have been happening. And there's no moving around. So it's tough. But as I told Chris, I did the absolute best I could with what I had to work with. Which was a 400 mile--7 hour--long distance relationship which only permitted me to see him two days, once per month. I know that sitting for 6 hours was tough, but so was not seeing the person you love for a month either!

At first I was truly relieved about the whole "space" thing. I thought, "This is perfect for me!" But now as my relationship progresses, I'm looking for a little bit more. Especially since we can only write letters (and let's face it, the mail takes TIME), occassional phone calls--which I can't really afford to supply the money for, and once-per-week visits for a couple of hours.

I was talking to a girl that I considered to be a friend down here for a while. And once I told her about Chris she said to me, "You deserve someone who can be out here with you to face the world". And she's right. As much as I can tell Chris about the struggles I'm experiencing here, it's only a story. In the end it makes it seem more like he's a friend that I kiss than a boyfriend. (Although he has many attributable qualities that I admire in a boyfriend).

Chris has always been the long-term plan. But he's also prepared himself for in case I do decide to meet someone out here. And he told me that he hopes I would tell the other person about him, and continue to come see him--even if we're only friends.

Pretty much the end conclusion that I've come to is that no one person can give me everything I'm needing. So I need to do more than just work and wait. I need to meet people, to go out and experience life before I'm ready to completely settle down and possibly have kids.

So that's what I'm doing. And it will be like a road or a roundabout. It will either take me to my next destination (unknown at this point), or it will turn me around to where I started.

Either way, I'm up for the ride...

Happiness is Fleeting, So We Lie To Protect Ourselves..

I was seriously tempted not to call Jason after work today. After all, it kind of hurt my feelings a bit that I called him all excited that I was going into work late, and he denied me. Not only that, it would also allow me to not see if I felt guilty or not about the whole situation.

But since I love eating any sweets (the proverbial cake in this instance) more than looking at them, I indulged and called him, only to be sent to voicemail....again. I left a cute little message about how I wanted to touch base with him, and see if he wanted to hang out, but if not then it was fine because I had plenty of annoying stuff I was avoiding doing anyhow that I could stop procrastinating on.

I went about my business--running errands and such and almost made it home when he called.

"So, do you wanna hangout?"

"YEAH!" I responded emphatically.

"Are you a vegetarian?" he asked.

I was halfway tempted to ask him if he was crazy, but simply responded with no.

"Good," he replied. "I'm making steaks."

I am soooo there.

I was literally but maybe 3-4 blocks away from my apartment complex and did a U-turn. I thought about it for a second--should I go back to the apartment and grab scubs just in case? I logicized with myself that it wouldn't be necessary-I wouldn't be there that long, and it was being presumptuous that he would actually invite me to spend the night.

Dinner was good, with a few jokes about how my coming over allowed them to sit at the table, and the whole only coming home when I wanted my laundry done. ;)

As the night rolled on, we talked to Stephanie about her guy conquests, I told her about Chris while Jason ran to the store, and she promised to help me chunk up my hair with blonde highlights.

Unfortunately my failure to plan left me planning to fail and after an hour of sleep, an hour drive home at 1 a.m. was completely in order. All would have been well and good if I hadn't gone the wrong way for about an hour....but managed to turn around and get about 3 hours of sleep for work the next day.

Morale of the story is to always keep a clean pair of scrubs in your car--just in case. As we all lie to ourselves most of the time.

Baked Ziti and Phone Tag

I gave Jason a ring when I was heading from work today. I had to run a bunch of errands--go grocery shopping mostly--and other things that I've been procrastinating doing.

Since he didn't answer, I'm off to make some baked ziti for 60 people for work tomorrow.

Note: Jason returned my call while I was in the kitchen so I had to call him back when I was done playing Betty Crocker.

Apparently there was no point to the call, other than to talk to me, as he did very little of it before asking if he could call me back. I logged into Messenger instead, and he told me he was heading out to take a ride on his motorcycle.

While hwas gone, I received a phone call from my boss telling me not to come in until 10 a.m. tomorrow. So I phoned Jason to see if he's available to hang out. Unfortunately he's not, but asked me to give him a ring tomorrow when I'm done work.

Instant Message...

I received a message from Jason on Yahoo today. It said, "I've been trying to call you, but the call won't go through. Give me your number again."

I may have gone a bit overboard, as I typed my number into the IM, said I hoped everything was okay, and that I'd text it too. If I don't hear from him tommorrow I'll give him a ring. I'm just hoping it's not something dumb like, "You left blah blah blah here."

I'm sure I'll find out soon enough...

Walk of Shame...

After the excitement of yesterday, today I was happily anxious to just relax, and take a nap. When I woke up though, I found myself feeling strangely hungry, and my roomie was in the kitchen.

I guess I have space issues because if he's in the kitchen, I don't want to be. We have a tiny kitchen and to fit two people in there, trying to make food, doesn't work. Not to mention that he's not really someone I'd want to invade my space..

I am currently in the process of working with a guy I met--Jason--on getting photos done of what I thought was going to be the same premise for a similar project being done by friends of mine.

Jason didn't feel comfortable working with me before meeting me on less expected terms so I logged on and invited him to dinner.

After the initial sticker shock and where did this come from wore off, we agreed to meet at TGI Fridays--which I'd been craving, and talk business there.

I wore jeans, a cute black faux wrap top that lets my scorpion peek out just a bit, and stillettos. Kind of over the top for a business meeting, but it is somewhat provacative pictures after all.

As I sat in the parking lot waiting for him to arrive, I noticed another car with the lights off, but engine idling and figured it was Jason. Choosing to be safe rather than sorry, I walked over to a well-lit bench outside of the restaurant and waited. Unfortunately for me, that drew many stares from my male counterparts, and when Jason didn't show in the 10 minutes I allotted him, I went inside to eat.

I explained to the hostess that supposedly, I was meeting someone so she sat me for two. I got a drink and was just about to order when a man breezed past me, and said my name before sitting down.

While we waited for our order to arrive, we talked for a bit and I learned a lot about him that I didn't already known. The odd thing was that I kept catching him looking at me until finally I said, "okay, what's up?"

We went back and forth for a few seconds before he finally admitted from behind his beer, he was attracted to me. Flattered, I just hmmed.

During a terrible dessert, Jason excused himself for a moment, and while he was smoking, I took the liberty of paying the bill.

When he came back, he reached for his credit card, and went to put it into the little black sleeve. When I told him the bill was already taken care of, he responded smart assedly with, "Well I'm not putting out." I laughed and he seemed to relax a little.

Then he invited me back to his house. I declined. Then he invited me back to his house to "watch tv". THAT, I accepted.

No sooner had we arrived at his house than his dog, Shay slipped out of the house and running down the street.

"Is she allowed to go outside?" he asked.

"NO!" he responded emphatically.

I did an about face and headed back down the porch steps and into the road. I took my heels off and held them in my hand as I searched frantically for the missing dog. When I spotted her, I tried to devise a plan to get ahold of her collar, knowing that as I approached her, she would try to run.

She saw me coming and took off for a second, stopping to sniff. Surprisingly, she allowed me to approach her, and I ordered her to head "HOME!"

As she did, I grabbed ahold of her collar, and walked her back to the house. Jason came flying out the driveway after me, and walked her back in as he thanked me for going to get her.
Truthfully, I figured it was his roommate's dog, and what better way to make someone hate you than to lose their dog?

The drama of the night over with, we sat and played Guitar Hero, and Darts. Correction: they played Guitar Hero, and Darts. Jason played for me, and ended up beating himself!

He kept staring at me, which I would respond with, with a grin, and look back at the t.v.

At one point, with his roommate sitting not even an inch away, he kissed me, which completely shocked me. And then he did it again.

One thing led to another, and soon a two a.m. gathering of clothes, and walk of shame was in order.

I headed to my car, and got in to find that I wasn't entirely certain one, how to get back, and two, where the nearest gas station was. I jumped in the car, and tried to figure it out anyway.

I started heading down highway 55, and thinking I was heading the wrong direction, made a U-turn and headed on 55 E. A few lights in, I stopped at a lighted gas station and attempted to get gas, thanking God that I made it....only to find that the station was closed.

I decided that the only option would be to head back to Jason's and ask him to follow me in the event that I did run out of gas. Knowing that him roommate had gone to bed-or so I thought, and he was in bed, I carefully cracked the door, instead of ringing the bell, and poked my head inside.

"Jason," I whispered.
He, still in a soft, cotton blue robe, and his roomate turned around simultaneously. I explained the situation, and he attempted to call me, clicking the phone shut when he thought it had gone through. He gave me directions, and his roommate assured me that she can make it to the gas station when her light was on, and that it was only about 6 miles.

I said okay, apologized, and headed out again--completely embarassed!

To make matters worse, when I got to the car, I checked my phone and realized I didn't have his number! What if I ran out of gas? Panick overrode embarassment at that point and I headed back inside, one last time.

Ultimately Jason ended up following me to the gas station, and I made it without incident. He kissed me goodbye a few times, before I headed on my way to get a few hours of shut eye before I had to be back in Raleigh at 7:30 a.m. for work.

And then I was totally convinced I'd never hear from him again...

My Most Embarassing Moment..

The thing about visiting a prisoner is that you're only allowed to take in certain things: money--change not dollars--, your driver's license, and one key. I typically keep an extra key in my purse--just in case I decide to be an idiot that day and lock myself out of the car.

When I arrived at the prison, I was running slightky behind schedule for our pre-arranged meeting time of 12:00. As I began the long descent towards the front doors, I realized in my moment of idiocy that I had locked my purse in the trunk, but failed to put my keys in there. Making an about foot, I immediately returned to the car, opened the trunk, and checked my hand for the necessities: key-check, driver's license-check, and change-check. I slammed the trunk lid, and headed towards the front doors once again.

The visit in and of itself was pretty uneventful. I did happen to run into a lady that was in Red Lobster the night before. We went back and forth as to where I could've known her from during her entire visit to no avail. So when she came walking up to me in the prison waiting room I had to laugh out loud. "So that's where I know you from!" I exclaimed pretty loudly.

Soon though, Chris was with me, and she was visiting with her significant other, and the antics of the previous day were behind us.

At the end of the visit, while we were waiting to be escorted back across the non-covered walkway, we got to talking. We talked until we reached the parking lot, exchanged phone numbers for "next time", and I went to get into my car which happened to be haphazardly parked next to hers.

I put the key in the trunk and tried to turn it to release the trunk to no avail. My trunk sometimes gets stuck, so thankfully I have an interior trunk release. I moved to the side of my car only to find that the key wouldn't work in that door either. Concerned, I look down into the palm of my hand to find that the key I held was not a car key, but an old apartment key. That is to say it was from the lock of the apartment my former roommate and I shared. Even if I could catch a ride home to get an extra key, I wouldn't be able to get into the house!

I have AAA, but I had no way of obtaining their phone number. One of the CO's we officially do not like, suggested that I call Public Safety--the police--as they could be here quicker than AAA.

The nice lady from the night before let me borrow an umbrella for the impending thunder and lightening storm that was headed our way and bound to drench me.

I headed back inside the front doors of the prison, and made a phone call to public safety--which the front desk provided me with. They arrived within minutes to open the door, and placed what loooked like a portable blood presure cuff inside of the car. Instead of being shaped like a cuff it looked like a bean bag with a pump attached to it. All aesthetics aside, it worked to get me back into my car, only to sound off the alarm.

Naturally my car was bought used, and while is aesthetically pleasing, did not come with the hand-held remote. Typically car alarms will turn off if the key is placed in the ignition, so I worked quickly to release the trunk alarm, and put the key in the ignition to no avail.

Desperate, I look towards the police officer whom opened the door, and ask, "How do I make it stop?"

Several CO's leaving work for the day have culminated around my car. It's a circuit, you just have to unplug it," one of them says standing far back from the car I'm now convinced has become possessed. Another man is hoovering over my driver's seat trying to disconnect the circuit, finally giving up.

Just when we're about to lose all hope, the car alarm shuts itself off, and thanking everyone I get into my car.

I was already late for work and had an hour and half before I could be there plus or minus changing time. I made it all the way back to my apartment in Carrboro only to have the car alarm restart as soon as I put the car in park and reached for the door. Desperate, I tried to restart the car, place it back into drive etc. Finally giving up, and being in a hurry I left the angry car in favor of changing clothes and going to work.

At this point, I'm panicking. I can't leave my car at Red Lobster to blare and be annoying until such a time that it no longer feels the need to make it's presence known. And I don't know who to call to figure out how to make it stop! Frantic, I run into my now vibrating apartment to quickly change.

When I ran back outside, it sounded to me much like what I imagine NYC sounds like in the event of an emergency with all types of rescue personnel responding in their corresponding vehicles. It was so loud, it drew out people from OTHER buildings to stare.

Embarassed, I threw the key in the door to unlock it, and suddenly there was peace in the world again....