Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Who's Yer Friend??

I don't know how God works in your life, but God has a super sarcastic sense of humor in my life. For instance, usually when I'm feeling extra hot and saucy, he'll tack a three-foot long strand of toilet-paper on my shoe or I'll prance around with my fly open. True story. It's happened and I'm still scared to walk out of a nightclub bathroom without checking my heels for tp, my skirt for being tucked into my tights, or my pants for DERHAR flyage. It takes me two minutes to take care of business and 10 to walk out the door.

But, in some cases he does some super cool stuff. Small miracles. Teensy, little, granular, microscopic miracles – I mean, you know, in the scope of, say, finding a living child under earthquake rubble in Haiti, these miracles in my life are atomic in size.

I won't bore you with details of all the things that have happened to convince me God thinks I'm swell. But I will tell you about the twee performance today that is just one of his cosmic kicks in the butt to say, "Hey! You! I'm here, I'm looking out for ya! WHO'S yer Daddy??"

Soooo.... I head out on my run at lunch. The fact that I can propel my body at a rate of more than 3 miles per hour for somewhat extended periods of time and occasionally uphill is, in and of itself, an indisputable miracle. But that's not the miracle I'm talking about. I grab my iPod (another "Booyah" in the creative universe's "I Rock" checklist) and my cellphone (ditto) and head out, tucking my iPod into my waistband (what? I don't have a fanny pack or one of those groovy arm thingies everyone else has)  and slip my phone into the pocket of my jacket tied around my waist.

See...here's where God starts working with me. Cuz I have this little thought that says, "HAHA, wow, that's kind of a sketchy place to put the phone, what if it falls out HAHA." So, naturally I put THAT thought right out of my brain and proceed without caution.

I run and run and run and run and walk and run and walk, walk, walk, walk.....up and down a muddy, lonely bike trail. At some point I realize this is ridiculous, what the hell am I doing this to myself for?!? Running SUCKS! Joggers need to have their asses kicked in a back alley! OW! So,  I turn around and run, run, run, walk, walk....crawl...run, walk.....cuss, huff, die, and walk, run, walk back. About a block from my office I pat my butt to get my phone out of my jacket pocket to check my time and nothing's there. I'm walking and patting and realizing I've lost my phone and now I have to turn around to go back to perdition to find the effing thing.

I was too tired to cry. Even a little.

I get back to my office, clear an hour vacation time with my boss and head out to get my bike cuz I'll be damned if I'm gonna find the strength to tackle that trail on foot for another hour.

As I get ready to leave, I realize no one knows where I'm going and, duh, I don't have a phone to call anyone lest I become detained. e.g., fall off my bike face-first in the mud and/or get mauled by a mountain lion. 

I head BACK into the office to leave a note on a friend's desk: "This is where I'm headed and why. Because I'm a dork. If I'm not back by 4 p.m., PLEASE SEND FIREMEN!! LOTS OF THEM!! Make sure they're CUTE! And SINGLE!" No, just kidding. I didn't write that. *jeesh* Cmon!! Haha. Ha.  *blink*  Nooooo...I was only gonna say come look for me. REALLY. (I do have to admit that my happy place mantra is "Firemen in kilts" but, again, that's another blog.) SO! Fact of the matter is I didn't have to write the note at all because as I'm entering the building, I hear my name paged to call the operator. Lo and behold my roommate was calling the office trying to reach me because she had called my cellphone and some dude had answered it. Can I get a WOOT WOOT?

Cutting to the chase and getting past the "Hey DORK!! Guess what??? You dropped your phone fool!!!" I got her to tell me where the dude was and to tell him that I was on my way and my office was right around the corner. He gave me my phone and nothing was hacked. To the best of my knowledge. Aaaaand, I don't believe there are any dial-a-porn calls, or communications with small foreign countries. I have yet to check my image gallery for "Hey Joe, check it out! I got this chick's phone!! Are you wearing whitey-tighties?? Har har!!" kind of photos.

Now, I realize, again in light of the crap going on in this world, this may be no big deal to you. It's really not that big of a deal to me. I lost my phone, some guy found it, I got it back. But it was the series of events that were so serendipitously placed that make this a kooky little gab-fest. My roommate JUST HAPPENED to call my phone at the same time this guy picked it up. I JUST HAPPENED to walk back into the office where I heard my name being paged. I JUST HAPPENED to not have had to exercise anymore. 


So, the moral of this blog is: If you're feeling cocky, check your fly. Cuz God is watching. And he is LAUGHING! Hard. Oh, and Duct-tape is my new best friend.

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