Monday, September 23, 2013

Flood Update: God is good and so is pie

I always imagined that if I were to be evacuated due to a natural disaster, it would be in an epic and terrifying fashion. Preferably in high winds with a storm brewing in the distance (no rain though- I don't like to be wet). Lightning flashes, and the children start crying. I push them aside along with any nurturing instincts I may have; as I recall, it's "women and children first" not "children and women".  Then I put on a fashionable yellow poncho and jump into the rescue chopper right before my home explodes. 
But that isn't at all what happened.

Our landlady Marian emerged from the sunshine and knocked on our door while saying in a sing-song voice, "Hellooooo?"
"Come on in," we answered, staying firmly seated on our couch and breathing in black mold spores.
"I have bad news," she began sheepishly. "We need to gut the apartment, so we need you out for about three weeks to a month while that happens."
This was probably the most chill way possible to be evacuated, and I was not amused. But in fact, I was more peeved because Marian had interrupted my birthday card coloring time.

We slowly absorbed this, along with the mold spores of course, and began to devise a plan. Adrienne decided to freak herself out about the effects of black mold ("Did you know that once you inhale mold it just keeps growing in your lungs and you don't realize you're sick until it's too late to treat it and then you DIE!?") before doing something useful. In the meantime, I waited for her to do something useful.

She texted all of her comrades pleading for open floor space, because we were now officially homeless, you see. 

After securing a place for the weekend, we coped in the best way possible: baking and puns.
And, Adrienne got a great Halloween costume idea out of this ordeal. She's going to be the Colorado flood, which is essentially letting yourself into people's houses and laying on their floors uninvited while drooling on all of their stuff.

But in all seriousness, the flood for us has been a mild nuisance at worst. Very little of our belongings were damaged (aside from our nonexistent TV that was completely totaled), we have a plethora of generous friends who live in dry, non-molding homes, and our landlady is being a literal boss getting our apartment taken care of. Plus, there's nothing like a good old-fashioned natural disaster to remind you that God is good. That may seem counterintuitive, but it's nice to know that whatever happens, God is here and there's no disaster that could make Him throw up His hands and say, "Well shoot, you all are really in a pice because I do not know how to take care of that." Even if it flooded for the rest of my life, sixty years is a blip taken in the perspective of eternity. 
And there are no oceans in heaven. So there's that (Rev 21:1, yes please).

Thursday, September 12, 2013

At least it's not a Sharknado

"I just heard about the flash flooding in Boulder! Did that affect you or your apartment at all?" our needlessly worried mother asked, waking Adrienne at the tender time of 7:30am.
Adrienne groaned and groggily replied, "I just got up. I don't think so."
Then she stepped on the carpet to as resounding of a squish as a squish can be.
"Nope. Nope! Nope! NOPE! NOPE!"

We quickly realized that our day has just turned into a massive game of 'The floor is lava' that we did not remember signing up to play. This was our first natural disaster, and it soon became apparent that we had no idea what to do except yell, "Chanticleer! Chanticleer!" and hope that would make the sun come out. When that didn't work, we pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps and brushed our teeth.

Next, we dressed for success, so I put on my Lions sweatshirt. I immediately started feeling like a champ who could probably suck out all the water with a straw and sheer willpower

I wanted to be a winner, or at least start strong before inexplicably falling apart
Then Adrienne began texting her friends: 
The new pool is open at my place! Come swim in our living room and grab a pancake from the poolside kitchen bar! 
Seriously though, anyone have fans I can borrow?
It's walk in warm!
Some were quite helpful and offered us places to stay and numerous fans, others, not so much.

Lance: Why do you need a fan?
Ad: It's the only way I know how to take care of a flood.
Lance: Do you have central heating or heated floorboards?
Then she yelled at her phone: DO YOU HAVE A FAN OR NOT LANCE!

John: I don't know if you've thought about it, but now is probably the most logical time to fill your apartment with dirt and prairie dogs.
Aud: You're right! My priorities have been all wrong!
John: You're just a glass half-empty kind of person. This is an opportunity, not a disaster!

Then we began assessing the damage.
Of course the Bible isn't damaged at all. Show off.
Let this be a lesson in cleanliness

You are not as waterproof as you claim to be, pants!

Results of: "Can the Pastula girls handle a natural disaster?" are still pending.

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Monday, September 9, 2013

Look, a Ginger brother! Mom, can we keep him?

I went a bit stir-crazy this weekend in expenditures because I am now somewhat gainfully employed. And by stir-crazy I mean $35, like the price of our new Wal-Mart vacuum cleaner. My mom and dad both said they almost started crying when they heard I finally landed a job. Probably because they were excited their child isn't an unemployed loser anymore, but perhaps I'm just projecting.

On Friday, a dream was realized that I never knew I even had- a night out playing trivia with a plethora of astrophysics majors. The conversation vacillated between football and jet engines, satellites and words I can't pronounce. 

Perhaps the best question of trivia night was, for 2 points, in the category of "Women":
"What percentage of Americans identify as feminists?"

Offense TAKEN, Buffalo Wild Wings. I bet all of the questions in your "Men" category are worth at least 3 points.
Also, I don't know the answer. I'm not very good at math.

But even better than astrophysicists, which I initially thought could not be bested, was the arrival of my ginger brother. 
I would accept the fro alone as my bro
The wildlife sanctuary wasn't quite what we expected. The signs were the meanest, telling us that there were a dozen wolves in the habitat yet we couldn't see just one because we never took I Spy seriously as children. I think we saw more sob stories and gnomes than actual animals, but gosh it was worth it. 

See what I mean?
Love is in the bear? But the bear was in the tub.
So by the transitive property, that must mean love is in the tub.
The tub is full of water.
Love is water?
Water is horrible and it'll kill you with its drowning powers.
Love doesn't sound very fun.
At the end of the mile high walkway is where they harvest all your organs and feed them to the animals. You know, to keep costs down. 
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Monday, September 2, 2013

Our gay best friend?

Adrienne came home from the climbing gym with the sweetest news she had ever hoped to share.
"I think I met my new gay best friend!" She exclaimed, bounding around the house.
"What makes you say that?" I asked.
"Steve, the guy I roped up with. I asked him how he got into climbing and I'm pretty sure he said, 'A guy I dated.'"
"You're pretty sure?"
"He said, 'guy'!" She insisted. "Plus, there's no sexual tension when we text and he uses a lot of exclamation points."
"Adrienne, just because a guy isn't interested in you doesn't mean he's gay."
"He said, 'guy'!" She repeated giddily. 

I had met Steve, or Happy Steve as we came to call him, briefly at the gym as well, but not long enough to be able to tell if he would in fact be our new gay best friend. On Saturday, Adrienne invited him outdoor climbing, where we would determine if he could actually fit the one crucial criteria for being the gay best friend.

As Steve was belaying Adrienne, I asked him how he got into climbing.
"A gal I dated," he responded.
However, I had forgotten Adrienne had asked him that same question and hadn't been listening closely for his answer. Did he just say gal? Or was it guy? It felt like we were about to be immersed in an episode of Seinfeld.

Steve: I played spin the bottle back in middle school.
Us: Did you ever get the girl you wanted?
Steve: No.
Elaine: Of course he didn't get the girl he wanted in spin the bottle! He didn't want any girl! Because he's gay!
Kramer: You're being ridiculous. You think you can just spin his words any way you want to, don't you, Elaine!

Steve: I'm pretty sure Lance Bass is gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Elaine: Of course he doesn't think there's anything wrong with that. He's gay! Why would he think there was something wrong with him?
Jerry: He's just saying he's not homophobic.
Elaine: Are you homophobic? Is that why you keep insisting he's straight?

Us: How did you get into climbing?
Steve: A guy I dated.
Jerry: He clearly said "gal". You're just hearing what you want to hear.
Elaine: Who says "gal" these days? He's 26 years old, not a soldier from the '20s.

Steve: FRO-YO! (while doing his happy dance)
Elaine: The only people who get that excited about frozen yogurt are college girls and gay guys.
Jerry: Frozen yogurt is a delicious treat for all ages, genders, and orientations! 
George: I can get a whole meal out of the sample cups alone!

Steve: I had a crush on Miss Frizzle when I was a kid.
Jerry: Explain that one, Elaine. How is it exactly that your gay best friend likes women?
Elaine: He was a kid! I wanted to marry my dog when I was his age.

Compelling arguments, clearly, but Adrienne is so set on having a gay best friend that she's operating under the notion "Gay until absolutely proven otherwise."