Before you read this post, be totally and completely aware that I realize if I continue down this path I will more than likely turn out to be the woman in this picture in about fifty years.
So here's a little story for ya that might turn your frown upside down. It appears as though all four years of exceeding at least ten over the speed limit on the expressway without getting so much as a warning finally caught up with me last night at about midnight. I should have taken Thursday's Arts & Sciences class with Dr. David Sears a little more seriously. Instead of counting the number of tiles on the ceiling next to me, in retrospect maybe I should have been paying attention to his incredibly rivoting lecture on karma. I vaguely recall him asking the class whether we believe in karma as I was slipping in and out of a day dream about the night to come's festivities. A few of my fellow peers said yes, and a few said no. I remember thinking... "I would like to believe in karma, but i think it's bullshit." I'm pretty sure that was the only thought that processed in my head during the entire hour and fifteen minute class in our 95 degree classroom. It looked like my roommate Sara wasn't paying much attention to our whack-job professor either so I decided to dose back off into my adventures in la-la land, conveniently ignoring the history behind karma. Enough jibber-jabber here come's the good stuff.
Scene: My House
Time: 11:45 p.m.
Day: Thursday
Scenerio: We started drinking at about nine so at this point I was feeling pretty fuzzy. After about seven different binge drinking games I decided to take a walk next door and visit my favorite Troup Avenue neighbors. I departed my house with a half-full can of luke warm Natural Light (you're jealous already)and I crossed the sidewalk to reach my destination of our neighbor's front porch. One of the 84 guys who lives there then proceeds to ask me if our house has any extra beer pong balls. Well I made like Statefarm and wandered my way back home to be a good neighbor and retreive a ball so they could play beer pong. I get home, grab the ball, and head back out the door. I'm handing the ball to one of the neighbors when I here "Miss!" from behind me. I reluctantly turn around, and wince to see two friendly little coppers just awaiting my response. I stroll right up to them as if I didn't do anything and find out they watched me cross the sidewalk with my open beer. Perfect. To make a long story short: My age went from 22, to 21, to 20, I pinky promised one of the police officers, asked one of them if they had a tazer, didn't get taken to jail because I have blonde hair, and ended up with a ticket citation for Underage Posession, Open Container, and here's the real kicker... Falsification. I have a court date on Wednesday, September 10th. Details to come…
Just put it on my tab of most ridiculous mistakes made since the day I was born.
Moral of the story: "They really weren't kidding when they said karmas a bitch."
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