The World is my Oyster?

“The only people who look good running are runners. How they learned the ‘cool’ looking run is a science and beyond me.”

Things I smelled on my walk last night:

rice

Bacon

Vanilla

Dog shit

More dog shit.

Spring winds

Artichokes steaming

Kitty sightings: 3

Deep thoughts:

I hope I make a great mom one day

I want to have nightly walks with my children. After dinner.

I will not require my son or daughter to tear fight fitting clothes. Tight not only is uncomfortable-it IS uncomfortable! And everyone else can see your rolls. My children will not get rolls….

Thank god my my genes-thank you for my working hips (unlike my mother). Thank you for the opportunity to run. But I politely decline-I much prefer swimming!

You may get accidental check-out while on your neighborhood walks, but once they see you, they immediately stop looking, thinking “eww”. 

Farts are great ice breakers. Mad or in a fight? Fart-you’ll feel better and also it might make you or the other person laugh.

I woke up, like any other Thursday morning, with literally ten minutes to get dressed, make lunch, yank a comb through my hair, and be out of the door. It was a morning like any other rushed Thursday. Why should I think different?

I drove to work, not rushing, taking precaution around the 6 elementary schools I pass along my 25 minutes route to work. It was only 7am, so not many kids are around the schools just yet. I realize I am making great time, luckily hitting all the green lights and finding less of my normal dose of jogging pedestrians to slow my motor and rhythm. 

On my drive, I encounter the large mountain that my little car barely makes it over to see another day. Just like every other day going to work, I stop at the stop signs, wave to the crossing guard lady, smile at the people walking their dogs in the ritzy neighborhood (obviously not my neighborhood). Typically there are cars zooming around me, due to my slower pace. But today, there is no one around. I am queen of the road.

I am nearing the top of the beastly mountain, when I notice something in the road. Being a student for far too many years, I immediately think its a school notebook. I sympathize with that owner, because I, myself, have lost a notebook or two to the winds on the roof of my car. As I drive towards it, I notice its larger than a notebook…perhaps a white 3 ringed binder? As I drive past it, that is when I see it- a laptop! Even though there was no one around me, I continued go to the stoplight, obeying all traffic rules so as to not get a ticket, (cops like to hang around these particular streets for those notorius “California Rollers” on the stop signs early in the morning.) I make a left at the first street to turn around. As I am approaching the white laptop again, I notice it is exactly in the middle of the lane. I pulled into the suicide lane and made sure the streets were clear before jumping out of my vehicle. Just as I opened my door, I heard a loud motor coming up the hill, it was a white lifted truck. I waited for it to pass, just inches away from the laptop, before running out, and snatching it up. 

Once it was in my car, I turned around to head to my destination. My mind was buzzing with questions: Does it work? Who’s is this? Did they know it fell off their car? I knew whether this person realized it now or later-they were going to be MONSTROUSLY BUMMED! I could not image loosing a laptop! All my essays and papers? My photos and music? My contacts? MY PICTURES!? MY PICTURES!!!! More than anything, I think I would suffer a heart attach or respiratory failure if I lost something like this….how was this person handling it!?

I got to work, and just stared at the machine on the passenger seat. With all of its scratches and chipped plastic, you’d have thought it was unconscious. I opened it up, and began to examine it. It didn’t look too terrible, considering it did in fact fall from a moving vehicle. But the mere fact that the screen wasn’t cracked or busted was a miracle. I pushed the on-switch and….nothing. I tried it again, and it seemed to stir deep inside the plastic machine. I waited another minute, and tried once more. It made a sputtering sound, and a few clicks. “Yes!” I was thinking…”perhaps I can just simply call its owner and give it back to him today!” But it was not so simply. Even though the computer made valiant efforts at trying to start, it rumbled to a hault, and just beeped. It beeped three times, in the same tone. It did that over and over and over. My heart sank. It was an internal problem. This is outside my realm of computer knowledge. 

I tucked the laptop in my bag, and headed into work. I called my fiance, who happens to work at Apple. I explained what happened and sought out his advice. He took down the serial number and said he’d call me when he had more info. 

I went about my day, like usual. But every once in a while, I tried the computer. Again and again, it made valiant efforts to turn on, but always resulted in the 3 beeps. “Bummer,” was all I could think. I kept thinking about if I were to have lost something this important, how’d I’d be handling it. “Not good.” 

Finally, Adam called me back. He concluded it was purchased at Best Buy, and he couldn’t tell me much more because it wasn’t purchased at the Apple store. 

So, I procedded to play monkey-in-the-middle with the Best Buy people…for 3 hours. Guess who was the one being passed around to multiple people in the middle? Yep. This girl. After all that shenanigans, I was NOT happy to hear they couldn’t tell me anything about the owner of this computer.

So, I called Adam back. Luckily, he was working that day. He told some of his buddies about the situation, how I found a laptop, and am trying to return it. They agreed to have Adam bring it on his next day of work, and they’d give it a looksie. 

He brought it in on Sunday. The buddies looked at it and without too much effort, got the thing to work. Apparently, due to the impact of the fall, something inside (internal memory? RAM?) got messed up. “It’s an easy fix, just pick it up tomorrow” was the answer I got. I didn’t know how much it would cost though. I wasn’t sure if I was in warranty or not, or if …*gulp* I would be paying for this. (*YIKES!*) Computer fixings can be awfully expensive! And this wasn’t even my computer!

Since I was busy Monday, I had Adam bring it home Tuesday. He said everything was working great but it might be a little slow, that all. “How much was it? How much do I owe you?” I froze and almost cackled like a witch when he said, “Nothing! It was within arrantly…oh and my friends really like you and think what your doing is kool.” What more could a girl ask for! Best Apple people EVER!

I wasn’t going to see Adam until after my night class, so I had him look up in the address book the owner name and number. 

It belonged to a High School kid, about 15 years old. My first reaction was “HE MUST BE FREAKING OUT AND GROUNDED!” Loosing a computer!? I can only imagine how absolutely bummed I’d be. Man…that’s just rough. What if he had a paper due Friday and it was on the laptop!? Uh oh… I need to call this kid right now!

I called the mother’s cell phone, rather than called the kid, (thought it’s be more appropriate). It rangs a ton, and then goes to voicemail. 

Now, I have never EVER been very good at voicemails-I talk too much, too fast, stutter and choke, as if I am giving a speech to a classroom full of people. Voicemails are unnerving. It’s a record of how awkward you sound, and how strange you can be when thinking on your feet. And for me, I don’t think so great on my feet…I’d rather be sitting down and prepared. 

So, I leave a voicemail for this mother-that like ALL my other Classical Kenna voicemails-I go into too much detail about how I, “found the laptop, hassled with Best Buy, had it repaired by Apple, and now patiently waiting for you to call me so that I may return it to you so I may keep my good Karma…oh and I Have a class at 5pm, so call me as soon as you can!” I believe I repeated my phone number 3 times….which is one too many unless I’m a marketing rep (which I am clearly not)…

No call that night. I begin getting antsy. I stored the computer in a safe place on my dresser so my cats don’t get curious about it. Before I go to sleep, I decide to look at the address book myself. (Adam had done it the first time). As I open the computer, I notice just how many documents are saved to the desktop. Essays, screen shots of graphs, research papers, a powerpoint-this was definitely an academic computer. This poor kid is probably crawling the walls at home, forced to handwrite all his assignments, and share a desktop with another sibling or parent. Brutal. Again, I can’t imagein loosing something this important.

I look in the address book. I have found the mothers name and number. Logan. They’re last name is Logan. I type that into the search number. AHA! A home number! But surely it is too late to call at 11:30pm. So I will call tomorrow. 

Wednesday, almost one week after the found computer, I nervously call the home number. “Don’t word vomit, don’t word vomit” I chant in my head…”Be simple, be sweet, be straight forward.” The answering machine picks it up. “Hmphf.” Drats! Again with the voicemail’s!? I am mustering up my courage as quickly as I could, and hear the beeeeeep. Just as I am about to leave another message, a digital voice comes on that says, ‘Mailbox Full. Please Call Again Later.” Phew! Don’t have to leave a message! I am breathing a heavy sigh of relief, and realize, I don’t have any other numbers to call. I should have gotten some other numbers to call! I attempt to call the mom’s number again. Straight to voicemail. I leave a quick, “Hi, Its McKenna again, the girl who found your sons computer. Just trying to reach you again, call me! My number is ###-###-####, Thanks bye!” I felt defeated. I just don’t understand-DONT THESE PEOPLE WANT THEIR COMPUTER BACK!? ARE THEY ON VACATION!? I WISH I WAS ON VACATION!

I go about the rest of my Wednesday, and don’t think much else of it. Thursday morning rolls around, same morning routine. Ten minutes to get dressed, drag a brush through my messy hair, make some tea and out I go!

I drive especially slow on those streets since the week prior, thinking I’ll find another treasure to return. No such luck. “Return the one you have, silly!” my brain is saying. I get to work, start my day and don’t think twice about it. Hoping to find it’s owner and meet up with them, I actually brought the laptop with me. I thought perhaps I can make some signs if I get a moment at work about a “found Laptop”. Something was bound to happen, right?

I normally leave my phone down stairs in the morning, but decided to tuck it in the elastic waistband of my yoga pants today. I am so glad I did. A strange set of numbers appeared on my phone screen as it vibrated with life. “Its them!” I squealed. Without a beat, I answered my phone. It was the Dad! He got my messages! YAY!

He seemed almost skeptical at first. “Are you sure its ****** computer?” Um, I would think so! It has his name all over the assignments on the desktop! The dad believed me after a minute of explanation on where I found it, what happened to it, what Apple replaced, etc. He thanked me a bunch, and we arranged a time to meet after work in a public place. 

I got to the destination first, and waited a minute before seeing his red mustang pull up. I slowly made my way to his car as he was getting out. He must have been in his mid 50’s, medium build, waring casual clothes. He approached me while on his cell phone. He seemed to be on hold or something. We said our ‘hellos’ and I gave him the laptop. He was confused at fist, as he explained he is “not a computer guy”. I sat him down and explained what it looked like before, and what has been replaced and what to expect when turning it on. Mid way through my explanation, he got through to his call an I overheard him confirm an appointment for his son (the owner of the laptop). Apparently, his son is suffering from a very painful ingrown toenail. Now, I have never had one of these, but Adam has, and they sound HORRENDOUS! Incredibly painful. Poor kid…lost laptop AND an ingrown toenail! 

Mr. Logan went on to tell me that the day ****  lost the laptop, (last Thursday), he had a meltdown. He said, “I have never scene my teenage boy cry to much.” Apparently, his son had spent 3 weeks working on this huge research paper that was due Friday. The teacher didn’t believe his story about his missing laptop, and **** spent ALL NIGHT working on it to be submitted on time. Now that right there is TRAUMATIZING. I have had many-a-situations JUST LIKE THAT, where the computer freezes, crashes, printer breaks, unplugged….and you have to start all over again. This made me feel horrible. I was completely mortified for him. This poor kid can’t catch a break!

I finished explaining the computer mumbo jumbo and he just looked at me and smiled. He must have said thank-you a dozen times. “I just hope that if I were in his shoes, someone would do that for me…return my item.” Mr. Logan tried to give me money, but I wouldn’t take it. He seemed so nice and grateful, and knowing it was going back to his son made me feel better that I was helping a kid (and not some jerky, greedy business executive). 

We said our goodbyes, and he asked me one last time if he could give me anything. “A handshake will do.” We shook hands, and he pulled me in for a side hug, as if he were my uncle. A friendly embrace. It might’ve been one of the most genuine side-hugs a person can give without being too creepy (since I did JUST meet this guy). 

We parted ways and I went on home. This encounter happened today. It’s amazing where life can take you, and how helping out, even just returning a lost item, can make you feel happier. I had a permanent smile the whole way home. Even recalling this all to this blog-I am smiling. Because I know I made that kids day. 

I have many days where I feel like a terrible person, for thinking certain things, saying things I don’t mean, being in my ‘moods’….but today made me feel good. I haven’t felt this in a long time. Just happy, for no reason. I hope this feeling lasts for a while. 

I am a good person. And it took a small act of kindness to remind me that everyone deserves to feel this good once in a while. Even though this is a post “bragging” about my random act of kindness, it is a good reminder that “its okay to feel good about yourself, Kenna.” This is a reminder I forget about a lot. I forget about me. But not today. I am going to soak up this warm sunny feeling and keep spreading it around. Why? Because….

What Goes Around, Comes Around. 

Efffffff. So irritated right now. I come over to my parent house to celebrate her birthday. I brought salad, presents, and a good attitude (which is KEY if you know my mother and her mood swings). We start talking about how busy I am, my schooling plans, wedding, marriage, children…. And without fail, every thing I say, she tells me how to live, how I’m feeling…. Why does my mother think she knows EVERYTHING!? Like-seriously. I can’t stand it. The more I’m around her, the more I see similar characteristics-WHICH TERRIFIES ME. I don’t want to be like her. I’m terrified of inheriting her “crazy”. Lord god, help me.

When is it MY turn to be the attractive one? Or “Hott”, “fine”, “piece of ass”, etc.

When do I get to feel worth? It’s not about what others think…I just want to feel pretty…confident. Even sexy for a change.

I ponder if I’ll ever see such a time in my life.

After 8 years of being with him, I have realized a strange pattern, a reality of which has been unavoidable.

-The only things we fight about are money and (lack of) sex.
-I have to ask him to do a chores every time it needs to be done.
-I don’t always rinse my cups/bowls, and he gets mad.
-We have a lot in common, and are extremely compatible.
-A love like ours is rare.

So, I have had not 1, not 2, not 3 but 4 DREAMS about my fiancé cheating on me/leaving me in the last 8 weeks.

I’m freaking out. This last one I had (last night) was so freaking real. The other 3 dreams were real-ish, him making out with a hot blonde or explaining he was leaving me. But last night brought my irrational dream fear to a whole new level.

Dream:
I came home (to what wasn’t actually the layout of my home) and walked towards my bed room. I heard heavy breathing and panting, moaning and wrestling sheets. My heart sank as I open the door to find my love thrusting horizontally to some blonde broad with huge knockers and a tiny frame.

I immediately began crying in my dream. My life was over. I knew I’d never know a love like this. And here he is, porking some girl who looked like she could be a Maxim Calendar model.

He see’s me and stops. He slowly gets up from the bed and stand up, in the nude. He was smiling when he said “you just don’t do it for me anymore…you haven’t for a long time.” The girl gets up and puts on his boxers behind him and gives him a passionate kiss before excusing herself to the kitchen, bare chested and all. He is saying something about how he’s sorry I had to find out about it like this, he never meant for me to find out about the other girl. My heart is sinking, my head is spinning, and the cloud of dense sadness takes over my body, as if I jumped into a pool of seaweed which was slowly pulling me down. This feeling I am all too familiar with in waking hours.

He then grabs a duffle bad full of his stuff, puts pants on, and is getting ready to leave. I beg him to stay.

His last words were, “Don’t hold your breath for me. Or the next guy, for that matter. You’ll never do better than me.”.

I don’t know how I feel about all this. I know it was a dream. I know he loves me.

I just so much insecurities about myself, about him finding someone prettier, charming, blonde….someone in the acting industry (his career choice). I am not in shape by any means, I am far being considered “a catch”, and I don’t have a lot going for me (no physical attributes worth recognizing: aka nice rack, ass, stomach, legs, etc).

We’ve been together 8 years. You’d think these thoughts would have passed by now!

But they haven’t. They are haunting my dreams. And I can’t bring myself to tell him about them, because it’s kind of embarrassing.

I need to get rid of these dreams…