Scar Essay- Prewriting

So I'm taking an english class and thought it would be fun to put up what I'm working on for my first paper here. Feel free to comment and make suggestions for changes. This first one is just the prewriting part. It's basically just general information on the scar and what I think about it. Not the actual paper. In case you can't figure it out, we were supposed to choose a scar, either physical, mental or emotional, and write about it.

"The scar I chose is a small horizontal line on the bridge of my nose. It is the result of only three stitches on the outside of my nose, but represents a time when I shattered the entire bone that made up that bridge. When I look at my nose in the mirror you can barely tell that it’s not right. But when I run my finger over the scar I can feel the bump in the bone that didn’t used to be there and I can feel a slight indentation from the scar, slight but still feeling immense under the pad of my finger. I got this particular scar from smashing my face on the roll bar of a Jeep Wrangler. I was off roading with some friends. It was summer in St. George, UT and we had just been at the lake and were returning home when we noticed a steep, small trail in the canyon. There were two friends in the front seats and three of us in the back seat. This was the best trail we had found all day and I remember right before we hit that hole in the ground we were laughing and smiling and looking at each other in excitement. As soon as we did hit that hole I was airborne and ironically, slamming into the roll bar is what put me back into my seat. Of all the stupid, careless, and foolish choices I had been making in my life around this time, I had chosen not to wear a seatbelt. Back in my seat, too stunned yet to react, everyone else was cheering and laughing. They hadn’t even noticed yet that there was something wrong. I’ll actually never forget the look on my friends face when he turned around to enjoy the moment with us and instead saw me and all the blood.

I hate this scar. I have a few others that come with interesting stories and humorous antecdotes. But this scar is the one that is a constant reminder of all the bad decisions I’ve made in my life. This scar happened when I was a careless and foolish 19 year old girl who didn’t know what it meant to be an adult until I would ultimately be stunned, yet again, by the consequence of an even greater and more careless choice. This scar reminds me of everything I don’t want to be again. It reminds me that there are consequences for not making correct decisions and for not protecting yourself. I associate this scar with the look on my friends face when he noticed me that first time and interestingly enough, it is the same face I imagine that my family and friends had when they heard of my later indiscretion. This scar fills me with regret because what could have been an exciting summer day in my history, barely remembered through the haze of all the other memories, is now a vivid reminder of my stupidity then and later to come."

Nervous Laughter Perfected

I've worked in some different customer service industries and have been placed in different uncomfortable situations. None, however, are as awkward to deal with as the drunken horny hotel guest.
If anyone actually knows me, like really knows me, you know, and often find humor, or horror, in the fact that I sometimes welcome customer conflict. Especially when the guest is clearly in the wrong. My favorite job so far has been the Covenants Administrator at a HOA in Colorado. Telling people that they're breaking the rules and being 100% right? I can't think of a better job!
My choice to work in a hotel actually came while working at a restaurant and serving, unbeknowest to me, the general manager of the hotel across the street. I got a job offer after the two minutes it took to take and deliver their drink orders. I made some sarcastic joke and she was hooked. I worked at the hotel first as a room service server and was quickly moved over to the front desk after they noticed my incredible work ethic and customer service skills. Maybe that sounds conceited but oh well, I can't help what's true. :)
I had zero idea though what kind of industry I was getting myself into when I moved over to that front desk. I was in for a surprise for just how little people traveling feel they should do for themselves. In my first week at the front desk a family entered the hotel all in swim gear and eager to get to their destination. They skipped up to the desk and asked me,
"Where exactly are the springs?"
"Um...Manitou Springs' drinking springs?"
"No, the hot springs."
"Uh...we don't have hot springs here."
"Isn't this Colorado Springs?"
"It is, but we don't have springs. The nearest are two hours away in Glenwood Springs."
The dad's next course of action was to question me as to why a city would have the name springs in it without having any actual springs. He was actually angry with me over this great travesty. As if I had something personally to do with naming this town founded several years before my grandparents were even a thought in my great-grandparents minds. My thinking was, how are you, a grown man going to bring your family to a strange town and not even research anything about it? The best part of this whole story is that this wasn't even a guest of my hotel. This man drove his family into a strange town, walked into a random hotel and asked a how to get somewhere that didn't exist. Good job dad.
I could go on and on about this sort of story but that's a whole different blog. The purpose of this post are the helpless guests who quickly turn into potential sexual offenders. I'd like to add a side note, that not once in Colorado did a guest proposition me. But in Arizona, people be needin some lovin!
The first hotel I worked at here was full of black men who kept inviting me to their room. I love when they give me their room number. I know where you are, I work here, but thanks. The last guy at that hotel went so far as to graphically describe what he had planned and included some well placed gestures. He was super drunk and I actually found myself worried that I may not be able to get rid of him. It was the first time I was actually concerned for my welfare. I mean first. I wasn't even scared of the death threats at the bank I used to work at, but this guy and his gyrations were a little uncomfortable. And on top of that, he's drunk, so there's a fine line sometimes between placating them and aggravating them, and where exactly is that line? I'm not good with fine lines. I usually barrel straight over them without realizing that they were there in the first place.
Last night was a good example of the line being crossed without my knowledge. We had a guest come to check in and immediately needed help with every little thing. We gave him directions to the local bar and he went on his way. When he returned hours later he was super hungry and all we have to offer at this hotel are M&M's that we have at the front desk. I gave him the number to a 24 hour pizza delivery service and he stood at the counter to make his order. Any guest who wants to conduct his business at the counter is a pain because they will inevitably be asking question after question. But whatever, not the point. He asked if I would like some pizza and I declined, explained that I had already eaten but thank you for the offer. When he got off the phone he was very persistent that he wanted to give me a slice. In the middle of the debate came the, what time do you get off, inquiry. At this point my antenna had finally gone up but I was completely thrown off guard. I'm not trying to sound racist but the extent of my experience with flirtatious guests had been limited to black men only. I don't know what it is that I'm doing that they like, but they like it, and they like it even more to tell me they like it. This guy though was white. And the initial offer of food is not uncommon. All different size, shape, sex and race of guest like to bring me food. But the persistant offer is not very common and the when are you free question is even more uncommon. I finally agreed to a slice just to end the conversation and get rid of him.  Here's where I thought the line had been crossed. After agreeing to pizza he said that I would need to come up to his room to get it. Crap. What do I say now? It's in my very nature to joke around with guests and I've just realized joking isn't going to work here. I agreed and just figured when the pizza came I would tell him I was unable to leave the desk but thank you and good night. When he got up to his room he called down and said, don't bother sending up the pizza guy, when it comes, you deliver it to me. My next instinctive question was, "Why?" It just came out. "Because I want you to", was his answer. Okay...
See, what I've learned about myself is that of all the times I've welcomed and successfully traveled through confrontation in customer situations, I immediately shut down when it comes to the drunken and hidden proposition. He hasn't directly offered anything inappropriate, but I know of many situations where a hotel employee has delivered something to a guest room and the guest is naked or half naked. I've encountered the half naked variety often. And I know that he won't be waiting at the door with the slice in hand, he's gonna want me to come in and get it. Literally and figuratively. Not interested. Wanting to get off the phone with as little conversation as possible, I just said that I would try to bring up the pizza. I immediately went to the other night auditor and explained what had just happened. He had only been out for the first 30 seconds of this interaction and immediately told me that this is what happens when you joke around. Uh, no it's not. I joke with everyone, drunk and sober. This is new and uncomfortable and I'm completely weak when trying to avoid this potentially scary event. At the least he's just going to give me pizza, at the worst I'm in a seriously bad situation. And I've mentioned before that I'm a glass half empty person so I prepare for the worst. It did take a few more phone calls to convince him I wasn't going to be delivering the pizza, all phone calls initiated by him BTW. And the night went by without incident. But I'd like to know how I can keep this from happening again.  Suggestions are appreciated if there are even any to be given.

The Zombie Obsession

I've been fascinated lately with this new zombie fascination. It seems like it's been in the works for quite some time. There are a ton of zombie movies to choose from. Video games, books (anyone heard of Pride & Prejudice & Zombies?), TV shows(Walking Dead...anyone? anyone?). What I love most is that now companies are putting zombies into their commercials. I love the Starburst's sarcastic, cynical, bus riding zombie(a little bit of trivia for you in case you didn't already know, that zombie is Zach Woods, otherwise known as Gabe, from the Office). Honda Civic has jumped onto the zombie bandwagon. There are zombie flash mobs. It's just the funniest universal obsession I've seen in awhile.

However, the kicker for me though, is that the CDC, Centers for Disease Control & Prevention have released a zombie apocalypse emergency preparedness plan. It's a cover for preparing you for actual emergencies with the pretense of a zombie invasion. But how great is it that an organization outside of the entertainment and advertising industry has reached out to a zombie loving focus group!?

Zombies. I mean, come on. I'd love to know how realistic a zombie apocalypse actually is because as much as I'm starting to see them in the media, I'm really starting to believe that I may just run into one one day.

Here's the link to the CDC's blog. It includes a little history about zombies.

thoughts on me as a friend...

So I had a phone conversation yesterday afternoon with an old friend who moved away from Colorado years before I did. We made brief reference to our friendship when we were both living in the same city and he described friendship with me in one perfect word...Intense. It kept repeating itself in my head throughout the day and I realized that there is no better way to describe friendship with me. And I mean, heartfelt, share deepest secrets with one another friendship, not just mere acquaintances. I took a look back over the relationships I've had with dating or just great friends and sometimes I'm embarrassed to admit, even to myself, the actions I've taken and the things I've said. I am an intense friend. I was thinking back on one friend I have who, when she was caught in a lie that she had told me, explained that I have high expectations for my friends and it's hard to live up to that. I've always thought about that. So with that in the back of my head, and this new comment of having an intense friendship, I wonder, what does it take to be a good friend? I think overall I'm a good friend. I have good intentions. I care about my friends and what happens to them, but the intense part and the high expectation part is that I seem to be overly involved in the things that happen to them. And this only applies to great friends. I can watch a pretty good friend make a similar life choice and be worried, but I don't feel as upset about it as I would a great friend. I can see a pretty good friend have a major triumph and I'm happy for them, but a great friend, I'm full of pride that they call me friend and that I know them.

It's been said on more than one occasion that you can always tell what I'm thinking by my face. It shows everything. Happy, sad, mad, annoyed, incredulous. And I know from experience that if a thought enters into my head I can't not say it. I may hold it in for a while but it finds it's way out eventually. So I wonder if these great friends of mine feel this way about me because I don't hide any emotion or thought from them. Other people may see things on my face, but eventually, they leave so they don't get to hear thoughts on their actions always. I don't really know the answer. I don't know the reason. I wish I did. I want to be a better friend, not so alienating at times. I know that despite my shortcomings, I have qualities that keep these friends around. Because they are still around. And they are still great friends.

Sometimes I get to wondering about how much of myself do I want to change in the name of being a better friend? I feel like I've reined myself in a bit. But when I look back on it I wonder if I've reined it in or if I'm just avoiding the problem altogether. I'm in a new town with new people and I'm not always confident that my loud and boisterous personality is going to go over very well. I think it takes a little time to get to know me and to love the me that I am. But usually I'm surrounded by good friends who are easy to like and balance me out a little. So new people keep coming back. But here, in this town, I'm the visitor in homes and as soon as I felt that intensity and overbearingness, I found myself pulling away from new friends. If I can't figure out a way to rein it in in the present, maybe it's best to not be present. But that's obviously not the answer either. I need to be confident in the person that I am. Confident in the friend that, while loud and boisterous and "intense" and full of expectations, is still a good, caring, accepting friend.

And literally, for the first time ever, I finally see all of the good things my friends have been telling me over and over again that I have and that keep them coming back.

Adult baby? Really?

Okay...wait a minute...(long sigh)...what?! I just want to go on record and say that my willingness to play with legos from time to time does not mean I want to sleep in a crib or have someone feed me from a bottle..or, wait, crap, maybe it does. And if you want to know what I'm talking about just follow the link below. Which, as far as I know, doesn't actually have anything to do with the picture above, that picture just really illustrates what I picture adult babies to look like.

http://bodyodd.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2011/05/04/6584344-an-infantalist-meet-stanley-the-adult-baby?gt1=43001

The Heebie Jeebies

Alright, I am a 31, almost 32, year old woman. Girl. Whatever. I feel like at some point I should stop waiting for the boogeyman to appear in reality, but I just can't. I chalk it up to a VIVID imagination and an unfortunate sense of pessisism. Regardless of the reasons, whenever I enter into any setting that mirrors any thriller/horror movie I am instantly transported into a fantasy world that terrifies me. Nothing even has to happen, I just give myself the heebie jeebies. Here are a couple of examples.

My parents used to live out in the boonies in Monument, CO. On the drive to their house I would pass this older home and big barn. Then I saw The Ring and decided that this house and barn looked just like the ones in the movie. Immediately I started hating the drive to my parents home. Forget that I later had a second viewing of this movie and realized they're nothing alike, it was in my mind and my mind was not letting go of this comparison. And often they would have me housesit for them so there were many drives down this particular road. To make matters worse, on their property was a stable where they kept their dogs and it was just a quick few steps from the house to the stable, but it was dark and you had to cross this tiny bridge and go through some overgrown bushes. With the combination of the setting of what to me was a terrifying movie, and being all out in the open, completely alone, when walking to the stable, I really started hating housesitting for the folks. I was expressing this to my dad one day and he seemed very confused about why I was scared.

DAD: "You mean to tell me that you can live downtown around a bunch of college kids and bums and that doesn't scare you as much being out here with no one around you?"

ME: "That's exactly it. Out here, there's no one to hear me scream."

The most recent scene of my self inflicted terror is at my new place of employment. I work for an older hotel. The basement of this hotel is pretty extensive and is where the housekeeping and laundry operations are. It also houses the employee break room and bathrooms. To get to the basement you have to walk down a flight of stairs and it's full of cement stairs and clanging doors. Then you come out into one end of a long hallway that is painted yellow and orange. Down towards the end are the bathrooms and employee break room, so essentially, I get to walk down this long hallway, complete with flickering flourescent lights, all the while staring at the double doors at the end of the hall (I've included a picture of said hallway). And what I know is that on the other side of those doors is a meeting room that used to be a night club in the late 80's. What I also know is that some people believe that old night club to be haunted. Nuff said. I'm done for. As I'm walking down this hallway I'm just waiting for any one of cliche movie psychos to come out with a knife and chase me down. Will it be the prom queen who got stood up and blood poured on her when everyone realized what a fraud she really is? Will it be the janitor who's had it with feeling lower than everyone else? Will it be the masked insane asylum escapee? What about some random figment of my dreams and/or imagination? Or will it actually be the ghost of some 80's yuppie that overdosed on cocaine and George Michael? Whoever it would wind up to be in my imagination is enough for me stay the H-E-L-L outta that hallway thankyouverymuch!

Everyone seems to get a kick out of these fears of mine and I'll admit that I find them pretty entertaining myself, but no matter how absurd I realize they are, they are still there...haunting me. Yeah, that just happened.

What the heck!?

I'd like to know who it was that decided that as adults we don't get to participate in the fun holiday activities. Or am I just too immature to really understand why it is we don't get to? I miss the days of hunting for Easter eggs and getting a really cool basket full of candy and toys and new books. In my family all the cousins would search for the golden egg and it was full of all sorts of good things, including money. It was that plastic egg that ladies pantyhose used to come in. I miss knowing that I was too young and I was never gonna find that egg before the older kids, but I'd still like to try from time to time.

I know that I still get to dress up for Halloween but I'm really jealous when I see all the kids go out with pillowcases and such trick or treating. What the heck is up with having to stay at home and just answer the door over and over again?

And Christmas is okay, but all the work that is put into helping Santa get ready for the next morning takes a lot of the fun out of it. I'd like to go to bed early and come out in the morning with an unimaginable spread laid out before me.

I will say that on Thanksgiving I do really enjoy the adult table more than the kids table so atleast I have that going for me.

I'm just sayin is all. I'd like to have some ridiculous fun as well on the holidays instead of just being a bystander. Who decided that it had to stop for adults and what can we do to change this travesty?