Wednesday, December 29, 2010


How many people came here expecting me to talk about the T.V. series LOST? If that's why you came here, I'm sorry to say that you are mistaken. My story isn't nearly as cut-throat as the real LOST.

But I do have a "Jude was such an idiot" story and you're welcome to take a gander.

Once upon a time, I was sleeping in my bed, only half-asleep, but still dreaming. Suddenly, my door slams open and my mom appears in the doorway, dressed like she's about ready to head out the door (because she was).

"Can you give me a ride to work? I just missed my bus," she said.

Still groggy from not being completely awake, I swung my legs out of bed and went to get pants on. I grabbed the car keys off of my nightstand where my mom had tossed them.

I should quickly explain why my mom didn't just take the car. I had asked to borrow her car because I was going to pick up my boyfriend and my sister's friend from their houses at 12:30 so that we could hang out before heading to a belated Christmas party at 5:00. Continuation...

After going outside, getting sent back in for a coat (even though it was thirty degrees and the warmest it's been in forever), and returning to the car, we were off and running (er, driving) towards down town.
"Do you have gloves?" asked mom.

"No, I didn't even think to grab them..." I confessed.

"Did you bring your phone?" asked mom.

"Oh crap... no, I didn't think to bring that either," I said, already mentally kicking myself.

It was fine. I wasn't that far from home and my mom would give me instructions as we started to get close to her office. She said them to me two or three times, and I was able to repeat them. So, I was off again, on my way home from down town.

I was supposed to find Washington Avenue. I did find Washington and everything was peachy. That's when I reached 1st Avenue (or was it street? I can't remember...). I was meant to find Portland after I reached Washington Avenue. I was so sure that Portland came before 1st Aven-street, so I went around the block and got back on Washington, only going the opposite way, certain that I would run into Portland and then be on my way home.

Blocks passed. Many, many blocks... down town didn't look the same any more, and I remember that in retrospect. This didn't occur to me when I was driving that I might have gone a wee bit too far. I thought it was a less-developed part of down town. Once more, I panicked and went around the block again so that I could go the other way on Washington-- the direction that I had initially been going in.

I reached 1st Aven-street and I still didn't see Portland. I repeated the story above and went in the opposite direction. I was back in the "under-developed part of down town," except this time, I went farther. I found myself in the northern part of my city. This is known as the scary part of town. I pulled onto another block, hoping to find a not-so-sketchy looking business.

Finally, I found one. I pulled over, parked and locked the car and went up to the business to see if I could get directions. A really nice lady who knew her way around told me to get back on Washington and to stay on that road. I would eventually run into Portland.

I trusted her directions-- I had no other leads, there was little choice for me. I got back onto Washington, again, going in the direction that I initially started going in.

I reached 1st Aven-street, and I started to panic again. But the lady had told me to keep going on Washington until I ran into Portland, so I ignored my panic and kept going.

You thought that I was going to turn around again, didn't you?

I went a couple blocks farther than 1st Aven-street and finally-- at last!-- I reached Portland Avenue. I admit, I let out a cry of joy and delight as I turned onto Portland. I have never been so happy to see that street in my entire life.

I followed Portland and I eventually knew for certain where I was going. I was nice and awake from all of the panicking that I had done while completely lost in down town. I got home and called my mom like she asked me to do when I got home.

"Where have you been?!" she demanded as soon as she knew it was me calling.

"Uh... lost..." I said, embarrassed by having to admit this.

"I thought you had gotten into an accident. I was worried sick!" she said. "I sent dad out to look for you."

Indeed she had. Dad returned a few minutes later.

I had been gone for an entire hour, when it should have taken me twenty minutes at the most to get home and crawl into bed for some well-needed rest.

Morals of this story:
1. Never, ever get out of your car in the scary part of the city.
2. Never, ever talk to strangers.
3. Bring your phone wherever you go in case you need to call your mom for directions.
4. Down town is evil.
5. Be cautious when a blogger puts a graphic for the LOST series in their blog post.

And to think, some of you came here expecting to discuss LOST... Sorry about that :)


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