Return of the King sounds much better, but my familial claims to regency died out centuries ago, so I will settle for my actual titles, which also consist of 'weirdo' and 'Best Co-non-worker', titles that I feel are fairly accurate.
The news since my last post; I am old, back at school, loved by huskies, and forgetful and forgettable. These stories will play out in no particular order, so just try and enjoy them.
I will start with the tale of the Husky. I had a lunch appointment during my unemployed week of August 19th-August 23rd, and I decided that a walk would be a lovely thing for me. I left my house about an hour before lunch was to begin. It was a beautiful day, with the sun beating down and hardly a cloud in the sky. I am not one that is generally partial to such days, but after spending almost the entirety of summer indoors, I was welcoming of the change. I was just over a mile from home when a dog comes running down a driveway in my direction. As is my standard reaction when this occurs, I immediately dropped into a crouch, my weight balanced on the balls of my feet, hands up ready to defend myself from the immanent attack of the... oh, wait, that is my reaction when a squirrel pounces. Dog; stop moving, gentle voice, hands at my sides. So this gorgeous girl comes toward me, tongue lolling gently out, and moves right past me to the terrace where she proceeds to perform her draining duties with utmost efficiency. Deciding she was a good dog, I began to walk away, but after only a few steps I glanced back to see the dog had finished, and she seemed to think it was a good idea to cross the street... cause why not? Well, the car that was barreling down the street disagreed, but there was naught I could do as I saw this magnificent creature about to be splattered by an SUV. Luckily, the car had good brakes, and began to slow immediately, and the dog broke into a trot, and no one as amiss. I thought it lucky, and continued to walk with a new idea that maybe it wasn't such a good dog after all. So I proceed down the street, when the husky saunters back in front of me, crossing the street yet again in front of traffic. Then she does it again, and again, and again. She ended up crossing the street (for those who are counting) 5 times in less than a block. I was getting dirty looks from drivers for a dog that I was in no way connected to. Well, I decide I need to lose the dog, so I cut through a park, and the dog happily runs to the playground where chillins and parents are playing. I can't even see the dog anymore when I start to leave the park, but as I begin to cross the street, I look over, and there is the pretty little thing running full throttle towards me. She follows me for nearly a mile, so, in desperation, I call every local number I can think of asking for the digits of the Sheboygan Humane Society. I finally get a hold of them, and as this poor, confused puppy wandered down the middle of Superior Avenue, I begged the call lady to send someone to get this dog. With the help of a polite woman named Anne, who pulled over after nearly hitting the dog, the dog was eventually returned to its owner, and I was able to arrive only slightly late to my luncheon.
Moving on to point two; memory. I know that I am forgettable. I left my wallet in my parents car and didn't realize it until I made it all the way back to school and couldn't swipe in to my dorm. I almost left for Sacrament meeting without putting my pants on while on my mission. I neglected to bring my book with me on an 8 hour round trip via coach bus... and then discovered I had forgotten that I moved it to another pocket. I cannot remember ANYONE'S names. Okay, if I was dang good friends with you, I got this, but I at least remember that I should remember their names. I am now back at school (to be embellished later) and have run some people that do not remember me. On the whole, many are friendly and welcoming that I am back, but there is a particular instance where one person seemingly refuses to think back to when we used to talk. I wonder if I offended her... then again, all we had in common was an affinity for Disney movies.
So I am a twenty four year old, and my first day back at school, a junior, who is a Mentor, comes up to me in the cafeteria, asking 'So how is your first day?'... ummmmm, wasn't exactly sure how to respond, but Alex is a nice kid, so I let him down slowly. I was wondering if I would be able to pass myself off as a freshman, and even 6 years older than most of them, I guess I can!
Well, I have put off my homework far too long. Anyone want to research Spanish Imperialism for me? Anyone? No?... okay...
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