My Visit to the Emergency Room

I know, I know. Before you all start shouting obscenities at me, I've been super busy with a lot of stuff and haven't had time to write to all of you. The whole waking up at 6:30 every day and then going to another job from 10-3 then going to class thing is just a little overwhelming. Sorry. I had to have my own pity party, GERRRRRRR!!!!!!! While I'm busy WORKING MYSELF TO DEATH, I think my immune system is as well. Here in "good ol'" Shreveport, a slight bug had been working its way around the city. My dear friend Hannah's boyfriend Clint (Clinkers) thought that a bad batch of meatloaf from the Golden Corral did the trick.

Yum.

While watching Bridesmaids over at the Doyle residence, I became a little chilly. I went and grabbed her brother's comforter from his bed and noticed a very potent scent coming from the depths of the linen. She exclaimed that Clint had slept in there but we all agreed since it was food poisoning I'd be A-OK (we're such idiots.)

The next day, I was extremely tired at work but I figured it was normal since I WORK MYSELF TO SLEEP ALL OF THE TIME. Does that make any sense to you? It makes sense to me so I'll keep it. I went home to lay down for a second when I became extremely nauseated (also fever, chills, a headache, and a sore throat...have pity on me!!!!!!!) A few hours of this and I took a Dramamine and planned on going to bed around 9. 

And then it happened:

This is really frightening.

I didn't vomit a rainbow (although that would be magical), but I wanted to go to quick care to get a shot for nausea or some antibiotics since I had a test the next day (didn't make that test BTW) and work. My strange mannered step dad (he's pretty normal) drove me to three quick cares...gasp. They were all closed. I was about to start re-writing my will (what?) when we decided to go to the E.R. I shouldn't have gone to the ER for this petty virus, but I felt like death, and they'd give me some meds (not to abuse). After about an hour of waiting they finally took me to the back where I shared a large room with two other people (they used curtains as dividers). It was so typical. An elderly man had fallen and thought he had gotten a concussion. His sweet wife was there though and that made me happy. 

The lady nurse came in and began treating me like a 7 year old, but I did not mind it one bit. I had to go pee in a cup and when I got back I didn't know what to do with my urine so I just held it. As I'm looking at my urine disapprovingly, McSteamy walks in. Long blond hair, nice and buff, and beautiful eyes. "Here's my chance" I thought. I said hello, forgetting I look like a moron. And then he whispered softly into my ear (except loudly and two feet away from me) "I need to get your urine." Sad.

I waited a little while and McSteamy and Momma Nurse came back in to put me on some fluids and draw blood. I've been told I have some tiny veins (; so they both sat down and started just slapping the hell out of my inner elbows. It reminds me of the scene in Zoolander when he's getting a massage from the oompa loompa lady.

They got me hooked up to the iv so all that I had left to do was wait patiently. But oh no. That couldn't happen because the elderly man next to me kept buzzing the nurse. She came in and asked what he needed and he simply told her he needed to use the restroom. She asked him if he could use a urinal and he said yes. The whole time I wasn't thinking anything of it. Then I heard him peeing. I guess urinal in hospital terms is a plastic bucket. Thirty minutes later I laid in bed shivering because of how nippley it was in there, when all of sudden I hear "berrrrrrrrrrr." That's how I would type flatulence. The urination station had left, but now the gas chamber would begin.

I did get a really cool hospital bracelet that I kept as a souvenir. I wore it to work thinking I would get some pity points and maybe an extra tip but people don't react well to "I was in the hospital for a virus the other day." And now I'm serving you delicious food that I coughed on in the back. Have a great Tuesday, I've got to practice my speech on how to make a napkin origami chicken.

The Fifth Grade Blues

Possibly an awkward year for everyone? Or just me? I'll share some stories with you and maybe you'll feel better about yourself. Be aware that I'll be sharing stories with you of various peers because they're all to great to keep to myself.

Ms. (Mrs. now?) Geneaux (I think that's how you spell her name...) every nine weeks or so would have a raffle and boy was this raffle the best thing that had ever come to St. Joseph's. She would put it homework passes, colored pencils, GEL PENS!!!!, USA themed toys/bandanas (I'm currently sitting at Starbucks trying to look intelligent while "studying" and I'm pretty sure Dwight Schrute's twin just showed up for a latte), and then one day...she threw in....the bone pen. You're probably wondering "What is a bone pen?" I will tell you what a bone pen is. A bone pen (let's see how many more times I can say bone pen (1)) is a pen shaped like a human bone:

A friend of mine, Austin Andre (I'll only use fake names on the embarassing ones), won this bone pen and everyone was incredibly jealous. Later that day, in Senorita Sanchez' espanol (obviously) class, he just could not handle this pen anymore. So the devil woman took it up. He got a little upset and told her "That is my pen, give it back." She responded "Sue me." How mature right? UGH. Austin "I WILL!!!!!" He got a detention for standing up for his fake femur. 

If you're from Shreveport, you'll know a man named Tony Taglivore (newscaster), who (I'm not sure if he still does this) does a "Tony Live" segment where he goes to elementary/middle schools at 4:30 a.m. (yeah.) and I guess talks about them? Well, he came to St. Joe's back in fifth grade. Let me tell you now, this was the worst decision Tony could have made. A) Everyone had to be there at 4:30 in the morning, but "we're going to be on the SHREVEPORT NEWS MOM PLEASE" so Cricket let me attend. We had to wear our janky pep squad uniforms that were one pieces with a waistband and you folded it under the waistband so it would look like two pieces. Only the best for S-J-S. I was such a good cheerleader. So that morning Tony does his thing and the cheerleading squads do some cheers. He brings out the biggest cake I've ever seen in my entire life. Seriously like seven feet long, 50 feet wide. Just kidding, but it was large.

 The worst things to say to fifth graders live on television (we got to be in the front for some strange reason) is "DIG IN." On the recording, me and my old pal Reno Grossi, dive across the crowd and into the huge cake. This proceeds into St. Joseph's Catholic School having what I'm pretty sure was the first live-broadcast food fight on Shreveport news. All of the teachers were extremely upset. 

One of my dearest friends, Rose Pettiette, was very cool back then (what happened Ro-ey?) and my other friend Mary Oden (was just as cool, don't get me wrong) but those two had a bet and if Mary lost, she would have to be Rose's slave for a day. Mary lost. The day came where Mary was Rose's "slave" and so this encouraged Rose to say some crude things for a fifth grader to say to another fifth grader (no bad words or bad names, but just not appropriate things like making Mary do belittle-ing things). The teachers had a special meeting with Rose telling her she could not have Mary Oden as a slave. They really did think this was real. I am giggling out loud at Starbucks right now by myself with the hipsters.

They're all looking at me in my over sized t-shirts and Nike's so I'm going to scaddaddleeee on out of here. Love yall. Miss yall. Wanna be yall. Bye.

I Can't Make This Stuff Up.

This past weekend has really had me thinking my life is like "The Truman Show". Seriously though, there is no way that my life has this many awkward happenings for it to be real. It's not real life. I'll give you all a little break down starting with "wow, that's odd" to "this can't be real".

1) Yesterday, my friends and I went to Dick's Sporting Goods to look for some new tennis shoes and maybe a new rain jacket (Koppen's are the coolest by far). While they were looking at the shoes again, I went over to the exercise equipment section and began to explore (like a 7 year old). I was on a new elliptical machine that has a TV built in, and also a  fan. It was huge. I walked around the corner to meet back up with them when...BAM. The greatest thing I've ever seen is right there. The Ab Glider.

I was thrilled. I hopped on that bad boy and began to glide. I did it for a good three minutes and just couldn't figure out how in the world it worked. I found Haley and Mallory and explained to them "Y'all. There is an Ab Glider over there." They (Haley) got equally as excited. I hopped on again and told them I didn't understand how it worked. Fortunately (unfortunately), there was another shopper near by. He was probably 35+, into working out (he was checking out biking gear), and into helping some young adults figure out the Ab Glider. What a peach. As I'm trying to "glide" (yikes) he came up and held the handle bar for me and began to "personally train" my ab gliding self. It was weird man. 

2) Haley and I went to go see the movie "Our Idiot Brother" last night. Not what I expected it to be, but it was so great. I thought it was supposed to be a straight up comedy, but it was more of a feel-good movie. It was still funny, but there were many moments when you just felt good. Hence the "feel-good" -____-. I laughed, I almost cried, and it made me want to be a better person. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. Anyways, on the way to the movie, we stopped at a gas station to get some Lunchables and candy to sneak in.

 Very classy. I was on the phone with my mom, Cricket, when this man looked at Haley and I and began to wave at one of us. I looked at Haley who wasn't paying that much attention so I put my context clues together and realized he was waving at me. "Mom, I've got to go..." I waved back and from one end of the gas station he yelled "Sydney Fletcher right?!" I was hoping "Maybe he's read my blog. My first fan (!!!!!!)." Wrong. I went up and asked how he was doing, basically pretending I knew this man. His response was "You went to Holy Rosary right? I recognize you from there." Uh......."Yes sir, I went there K-3-Kindergarten." What the heck? I know I've got a memorable voice, and memorable hair, but three years old to twenty years old? SECRET OBSESSION?! Just kidding, later on I realized I did know this man. He's friends with my grandparents. Sorry, for making you feel like a creeper good sir.

3) The weirdest thing of this weekend. Are you ready? Because I'm not sure if you are. I'm not sure if I am either, but here we go. A lot of my friends from Baton Rouge went to Dallas this weekend for the LSU vs Oregon game (Geaux Tigers.) on Friday morning through the weekend. Friday night, I was watching the TCU vs. Baylor game (great game by the way) when I received a picture text message from a number I didn't know. The picture is an advertisement of some sort with two girls and the caption is "Hey gurl." This is what I receieved:

I looked at it for a good while, finally figured out it was Millicent who sent it to me, and I thought she did the thing where people put faces on other peoples bodies, FaceinHole. Then she explained that this is an actual advertisement at Jake's Burger Place in Dallas, TX. Uh......this is real?........Either I have an identical twin that wears a lot of make up, or this could be a lawsuit. Now I'm not saying that's my body. Because I can guarantee you right now....it's not. But that is my facial structure in every way. The teeth are bigger than mine, but still. That is my nose, those are my tiny half-moon eyes. I'm very disturbed. Twin: if you are some how reading this blog, please contact me so we can meet. 

I wish some of my stories on here were made up, but they are not. All of them are 100% real, besides the changing of names which is strictly to protect their identities (something that I lack, obviously). Happy Tuesday y'all. 

This blog post is dedicated to my mother's dear friend Tony Luce and his daughter Tori Luce. May you rest in peace beautiful girl. Hope this can bring some happiness to you Tony.

I'm a Pageant Star. Pt. 2

Happy Hump Day/National Trail Mix Day/Last Day of August!!!!!!!!!!!!! September is tomorrow! Yahoo! My favorite month is October and this just means we're getting closer. Yesterday, you were all given a taste of my pageantry life. Aren't y'all lucky. To begin the day of the pageant (I already mentioned I was not feeling so hot in the previous post), we had to do interviews with the judges. My breathe smelled like alcohol (seriously). Fortunately, one of my fellow beauty queens had a spare Altoid (whew!). It was our time to walk in and sit at the tables with the awkward judges.

In the interviews, I went into them with the mindset of honesty (as opposed to flat out lying, I guess?). So when they asked me "Do you think we'll ever achieve world peace?"(Really?) I honestly responded "No, not really." Now, some of you will think I was just being negative, but I explained my answer. I basically told the little man that everyone on Earth wants to be more powerful than the other, and with that there will never be "world peace". It worked for me (like the energy shot). 

After the interviews, we had time to go home and get our "things". I gather my bedazzled sailor costume (gag), my dress (that I still have from you Rebecca Stewart) that was too short, my bathing suit (I've got the chills) and a few more things. On my way to the Union (where this monstrosity was held) I had to stop and get something to eat. Since I was going to be walking around in a bathing suit (I did p90x for about two weeks with three months to prepare for this, then quit...), I figured I should eat something that won't make me bloat (yes, I just wrote that), so I get a smoothie from Smoothie King. 

Arrived at the Union and everyone looks way more prepared than I do. Some people even had containers on wheels. Yeah. We began practicing. Oh lord.

First, we go with the dance. I failed to mention in the last post that the dance had two songs. The choreographer counted us off at the first practice (I was a 2) and the 1's got the song "American Woman" by Lenny Kravitz. In my head I'm thinking "Thank Jesus. Maybe I'll get something better than that." F no I didn't. 

I got a 1920's doodle-bop song that required us to do dance moves like a "jazz square" which I had no idea what that was until then (and might I add...I do a delightful jazz square now). I did not know this dance come the day of the pageant, and the girl next to me did not know it either (we were front row in the dead center). Great.   At one point I had to pretend I was a sailor. 

By this point, I was starving beyond belief and it was go time (my entire family came to "support" me p.s.). Right before our "opening number" (ahhhhhhh) I forget the dance. Shocking. I seriously was about to just say "I'm done." and go get a burger. I sucked it up though.

In one of the heinous videos from this, you can see me watching the girl next to me the whole time because I have no idea what I'm doing. After our dance, we had to do "introductions" (I love using quotation marks and parentheses if you haven't noticed). Introductions go like this: "I'm Sydney Fletcher from Shreveport, Louisiana, the place that I call home! And I am YOUR CONTESTANT NUMBER 15!" You have to shout the last part. My introduction was basically correct "My name is Sydney Fletcher, and I'm from Shreveport, Lousiana, where we can all "Move it Like Berney" and I am your contestant number 15." I didn't shout. I figured it would startle them. I got a few chuckles from that one.

Bathing suit time. DEAR GOD NO. Every freaking girl was ripppppppppped. I mean 12 packs, buns of steel, big boobs. Then there's me! Whee! I forgot to bring my baby oil (oh no!) so I was extremely "ashy" on the stage and everyone else was lathered up. I did get to spray "butt-glue" on my tush. Talk about a sticky situation (get it?). I look terrified walking in that damn bathing suit I can gurantee it.

Evening gown. When I can figure out how to upload the video I will and you will be excited.

It's time to announce the Top 12. I was in the second row, in the center of the group. Literally, everyone around me was chosen, so I was standing by myself in the center of everyone. Then I did the only rational thing to do so I pageant waved for about five minutes.

I did not win. I'll upload the evening gown vid later. SPOILER: I shoot the judges with my "double-guns" after a dazzling twirl. Two of them thought it was funny. The other seven did not. SEE YALL LATA!

I'm a Pageant Star. Pt. 1

This is actually really difficult to talk about, but I trust all of you in not judging me and just accepting it and leaving it behind. Here goes nothing.

First. I have the worst friends ever. Just kidding, they're all fantastic. But. Sometimes they tell me to do things that will not benefit myself but that will provide them with entertainment. For instance, the Miss LSU pageant. Yes. I'm going there. Every day at the Chi O house, we'd all be chatting over some taco salad or maybe some sandwiches, laughing about the copious amounts of funny stories being shared amongst one another. So, one day we were discussing the upcoming Miss LSU pageant. We all agreed it would be highly entertaining if me and my dear friend Palmer Harbuck would "compete" in this. Over the next couple of weeks we all came up with ideas for the pageant, such as for the swim suit portion, wear a wet suit, or a thong bikini. Finally, we decided to do it. After step-show practice my friend Emily Culotta (my support coach) and I went to the Delta Zeta house (they were the hosts of the event) and signed my sorry arse up. I never realized how simple it was to sign up for something so...public. All I had to do was write my e-mail address down and BOOM. I'm in. Terrifying (to say the least). First practice rolls around and Palmer has decided not to do it anymore. Uh. Crap. I'm all by my lonesome doing something I am completely uncomfortable with. For the next couple of months we would practice (learning how to walk, learn a dance....yeah....how to speak). It was absolutely horrible.

The dance. So the theme was "America". Flashback to Drop Dead Gorgeous? I'm getting nauseated thinking about this. Seriously haha. First, they tell us about our costumes. If you ever saw pictures (or favorably witnessed) me in a costume, its never good. I mean its a great costume, but not lady like... ever. Mainly because I dress up like boys:

Was mistaken for a pledge this night.

Ok. You get the point. So when they said "America themed costume" my eyes lit up. I'm thinking Uncle Sam, full blown. A bald eagle. One time I took a guy to grub and made him wear a bald cap to perfect our "Simpson's" costume.

Back to pageantry. When I mentioned this to "the girls" (wow.) they politely shut my idea down with "ARE  YOU SERIOUS?! You can't do that!" Fine. I'll play it off with your rules. Me being the lazy/procrastinating person that I am, waited to do this costume until the day before we had to turn them in (or whatever). I have the greatest room mate in the world. CAMILLE MOTT!!! Friend her on Facebook, follow her on Twitter. She loves that.

We got to The Party Starts Here (Baton Rouge Party City) and look for anything with red, white, or blue. I would not wear some cheesy, slooty mcsloot sloot costume so we began searching, and all that they had are the slooty mcsloot sloot costumes. I'm screwed. I found a plus size sailor costume. PERFECT. It came down to mid calf so I knew that one could possibly work. After spending a good five minutes in Hobby Lobby, we venture home to begin arts and crafts. Camille altered (stitch-witched) the whole thing. And we bedazzled the shet out of it. I seriously can not believe I wore that, good lord. It came with a teeny tiny sailor hat. "What is this? A sailor hat for ants?!"

Besides the costume, these ladies were preparing for this thing to the max. One fellow pageant star, didn't drink for about three months. St. Patrick's Day Parade had been the previous Saturday and when we discussed it I told them of my state of mind and they replied with "Well, when we do things, we don't half-ass it." Ouch. Alright, I get it. That was one thing, being a week before the pageant and what not, but I made the mistake of going out the night before the pageant (saying pageant in such a casual slang right now is really bothering me). Boy was that rough, I'm pretty sure I smelled like a walking tall, cool Budweiser (Would you eat the moon if it were made of ribs?).

I was recently tagged in a photo from this thing...it will not stop haunting me.

Tomorrow, I will share with yall off the details from the day of the pageant. This post would be entirely too long if so. Stay tuned for tomorrow's blog. Happy Tuesday yall.