It’s the end of October, which means that it’s baseball post-season, which means I am one happy girl. 
A few weekends ago my grandpa turned 90! I was able to get the weekend off from work so me and Andrew drove back home to St. Louis. My family threw a big party for him and he only had two complaints the entire day, which – trust me – is a success. I think what cracks me up the most is that we catered Lee’s Chicken for it, but my grandpa loves Lee’s Chicken so whatever floats his boat. Love that guy to pieces.
Becky’s birthday was actually back in August (she turned 20! I feel so old), but I’m a lousy best friend so I wasn’t able to get her present to her until that weekend. I saw this thing on Pinterest for DIY mugs, so I thought I’d give it a shot. I bought some fairly plain white coffee mugs from the store and then drew on them in Sharpie. I cooked them in the oven at 350F for about thirty minutes and they turned out great. I was really proud of my drawing (since I am so awful and Missouri is a bit of a hard state to draw, haha). I’m hoping they hold up over time after washes and everything.
It was great to go home as well since St. Louis’ baseball team, the Cardinals, made the playoffs. They don’t appreciate them quite as much in Kansas City, so it was a ton of fun to watch a few games with my family.
I am not liking my job as much as I did originally. There’s just so much crap that I have to deal with, from customers and from employees and management. I forgot just how awful minimum wage jobs are. I am very thankful that I do have a job (and I love free movies) but I don’t think I’m going to be staying there for a long period of time. I’m hoping that in a year or so I will be able to find some kind of internship, but we’ll see. Plus, I work so much more than I want to (4 days and 30 hours a week), which is stressful when I have a lot of tests and homework going on. But I’m just taking one day at a time.
When I was heading to work the other day, I was sitting at a stop light when the pick-up truck behind me ran into me. At first, I was just so shocked that I didn’t even understand what happened. I though the person behind the truck must have ran into him so he ran into me. It was right by a bus stop so all the people waiting there had this appalled look on their faces with with mouths hanging open. Looking back now, their faces were pretty funny.
So I pulled over in one of the parking locks and got out, apprehensive to see what damage had done by the truck on my tiny little car. As soon as I got out, the guy asked, “You okay, baby?” I appreciated his concern, but it kind of ticked me off he called me baby. First of all I’m not a child, and second I’m not your girl. I looked at the back of my car and didn’t see any apparent damage so I took a deep breath and felt a lot better. He then went onto some long, sob story about how he didn’t have insurance, would go to jail, would lose his kid to his crack-whore baby mama, so I shouldn’t file a claim.
I didn’t see any damage, but I was still very apprehensive to just let him drive off. I managed to finally get his information (though he kept saying that I was going to file a claim and put him in jail, but in that regard, it’s not my fault you’re illegally driving without insurance and ran into me). I managed to somehow still make it to work on time, and after I got off, I went to Andrew’s to make sure nothing really was wrong. Both him and his roommate looked at it and said it was fine.
I’ve never been so proud of my dinky card going up against a truck and coming out without a scratch.
So I’m just spending my Saturday night watching the Cards in the World Series. (Series is tied, 1-1 if anyone besides me actually cares :P). And eating chocolate. And brownies. And ice cream.
Homework? What’s that? 