A little bus-stop treat.

A little treat bestowed upon me by the bus-stop gods. This lady had on a green suit, hat, and tennis shoes.

Enjoy.

I do want to talk about it.

Target.

This is the list of things put into ONE target paper sack at my bi-weekly, weekend grocery trip to Target. Get ready.

1. Four Tomatoes

2. One carton of mushrooms

3. Grapes

(I realize these items aren't that heavy... please continue)

4. Bottle of Marsala Wine

5. Zesty Italian Salad Dressing

6. Four-pack of butter

7. Two-pound bag of carrots

8. One block of pepper jack cheese

9. Cous-cous

10. Two cans of chicken broth

(We're not done yet)

11. One-half gallon of milk

12. Ranch veggie dip

13. One can of baking powder

(And here's the kicker)

14. Three-pound, two ounce jar of apple sauce

Seriously. When you asked me if I wanted paper or plastic, I didn't realize it meant one bag of each.

Bike ride to the __________________

Ok... a little background.

Earlier in the summer, a friend from church mentioned that I should get a partner and do this race called the Muddy Buddy. It is approximately 7 miles, and you run and bike with your partner. One person starts the race running, the other biking, and then you switch at certain points in the course. The course is divided up into 5 or 6 legs, and at the end of each leg, you complete an obstacle. I agree, and I find a partner- Briana- and we sign up for the race.

I figured I should do some biking before showing up on race day not having biked since middle school (ok, slight exaggeration, but you get the point). So, I haul a bike from my parent's house, and start my 'training.'

After a few days of riding around my neighborhood, I remember how I saw this trail on the way from work one day.... and I decided to find it. So... I go to find the trail. I found the trail and started making my way on the trail. Dowwwwn a hill and back upppp a hill, and down, riding next to a main highway. In my mind, it made sense that this trail would loop, no such luck. The trail heads over the Minnesota river and river valley, and starts to curve back up to the top of the hill.

At the top of the hill, I notice tall buildings, like a Hilton and Embassy Suites. I am trying to run through a map in my head of where I ended up. So I continue biking a little further and I see a large building, also known as, the Mall of America.

Yep. That's right. I accidentally biked to the Mall of America. Really. So I am still biking, now along a sidewalk, and I realize I am stumbling upon a nature preserve (remember, I just biked over the Minnesota River, which apparently has a nature preserve). I now decide to find an alternate route home that is hopefully a little more direct. I find this path that heads down a hill in the direction of my house, so I take it. ( I am not sure if I am going to forge the river Oregon-trail style with my bike, but I know I can figure it out.)

(Time out: It is nearly 8pm. I am without a cellphone, water bottle, or any proper identification, Time in)

I am heading down this trail, it gets steeper and steeper down hill. It is gravel, and in parts, is washed out from heavy rain. I continue on, and enter into the portion of the trail covered by the tree canopy, so it is nearly dark. I IMMEDIATELY get swarmed by 1.98 million mosquitos. As I am slapping my body, I realize there is no one around, except for the kidnapper/murderers undoubtedly hiding in the thick undergrowth waiting for an inexperienced, blonde, tired, somewhat-lost biker to come into the isolated portion of the trail. Upon this epiphany, I know I should head back. I bike a little further and see a sign stating "0.2 miles to nature preserve center this way" with an arrow pointing uphill. I decide I should take this path, and head back home the way I came.

I start biking back towards the preserve, slapping at mosquitos the entire way. After getting a portion of the way back up this hill, I encounter something. A new challenge. Stairs. That's right folks, this part of the path is NOT for the bikers or handicapped, it is a walking path. At this point, it is getting too late to turn around. I have contracted west nile and malaria, and I am just wanting to get out. So, I start trying to walk my bike up the stairs. That doesn't work because the stairs are spaced far enough apart where the tire gets stuck on every stair and I have to lift the bike. I end up hoisting the *&#$#(* bike over my shoulders, and carrying it the rest of the 0.2 miles uphill, to reach the nature preserve and the rest of civilization.

Realizing that I have to bike the ENTIRE way back from the Mall of America to my house, I set off in search of a water fountain at the nature preserve. Do you know that there was not a single outdoor fountain for the lost/stranded biker like myself? Cursing the preserve, I get back on my bike, interrupt a hippie-nature club by biking through it, and head home.

I bike all the way back home, and stagger into my house. I am certain that I resembled a person who found their way out of a desert. I drank water like I had been stranded in the Sahara, and had to explain to my roommates what just happened to me.

The next day, I schedule a massage b/c I was sore. My massage therapist, Jason, who I have been seeing once/month with my massage membership (yes, there are such things and I highly recommend them for idiots like me) starts trying to work the knots out. About 12 minutes in, he basically tells me that my neck is out of alignment. I politely mention that things like that happen when you bike long distances, alternating butt cheeks, because your pelvis is permanently knocked from the bike you accidentally rode too far and for too long. I may or may not have mentioned how parts of my body fell asleep that I didn't realize could fall asleep because of my poor biking posture. Whatever. I think he may have said then that he didn't want to talk about it... I am not sure. Poor Jason.

Kimberly at the Dentist

So... Today I had a dentist appointment. Here are the details:

Time: 1 pm

Day: Tuesday

Location: Downtown dental office

Purpose: Get cavities filled.. 5 to be exact. NO, I do not want to talk about that part.

Procedure: You'll find out.

1. I walk into the dental office. I swear to you Bret Michaels was sitting in the lobby. It was like one of those pictures, "What doesn't fit in this scene?" The lobby is like this serene, yoga-inspired place... and there was old Bret chilling.

2. I go to sit down after checking in. My phone goes crashing onto the wood floor- bret michaels and other man seem not to notice...

3. I get called back to my new-found dental home chair.

4. Assistant #1 comes in and asks what iPod I want to listen to. I chose the orange one w/ The Fray-esque music. Orange iPod is not working today. I was embarrassed to say I wanted the purple one with Hip-Hop.. so I chose the radio.

5. Assistant #1 puts numbing-gel q-tips in my mouth. Drooling immediately commences. Assistant #1 walks away.

6. Shot-lady comes in, and things go as follows:

Shot Lady (SL hereafter): "It looks like you are having 5 fillings. Two on the upper left, two on the lower left, and one on the lower right."

Me: (wiping drool as if I know where the cavities are...) Umm, yeah, I think so.

SL: Ok, did you eat lunch today?

Me: (why does that matter? I am getting 5 #($U#)$ fillings!) Yep!

SL: Ok, good, that usually lessens the chance of reactions to the shots.

Me: (HOLD UP? Reaction? What the devil is this lady talking about? Reaction? TO WHAT?) Oh, OK, great!

SL: Ok, I am going to start here, and you will feel a little pinch...

Me: (Felt the first pinch, the 2nd one, the 3rd one, etc. and all the sudden, my legs are sweating. I am wearing a pencil skirt and I have bare legs. Why are they sweating? Oh my gosh. I am going to die. I am having this reaction. No, no I am not. No I am not. I am being a anxious freak. I am not having any sort of reaction. *Pinch* Why do I feel like my heart is racing? Am I even breathing?)

SL: Ok, so we are almost *Pinch* done. Just this one, last, *Pinch*, shot.

Me: (What is going on? I think I am getting ready to pass out.)

SL: So, how are you feeling? Everything alright?

Me: Ehhh, Umm. ( I lift my hand up, it is shaking- I hardly even notice.. because EVERYTHING is shaking.)

SL: Oh, ok, are you feeling faint? Dizzy? Shaky?

Me: Faint. Shaky.

SL: OK, well I am going to lean you back some more. As long as your head is below your heart, you won't pass out!

Me: Heh, heh, oh ok, great.

SL: Welp, I am going to go find someone to sit with you- you will feel fine soon! (EXITS STAGE LEFT!)

Me: (YOU ARE LEAVING ME HERE TO DIE? Call the paramedics. MOM! DAD!?!?)

Assitant #2: Ok, how are you feeling now?

Me: Ehhh.

These types of questions persisted for 30 or so minutes while my heart rate came back to normal and the shaking stopped. The dentist comes in and starts the dirty work. Her and Assistant #2 talk about Jay-Z, Eminem, and who killed Biggie. And no, that is not a joke. She is my dentist from heaven. Then she hits an un-numb part of my tooth. I jerk.

Dentist: Oh, wow. We will need to give you a little more of that shot.

Me: (Eyes widen in fear)

Dentist: I will give you the one without the epinephrine so you won't have a reaction.

Me: (EPINEPHRINE? You shot me up with adrenaline? Why not just give me 7 red bulls and call it a day?!) Ok, tanks. ** Remember, most of my mouth is numb.

The rest of the procedure goes off with out a hitch. I get back to my desk after 2 hours of the 1.5 hour dental appointment. Take a sip of water like a pro. Get a little arrogant. Take another sip of water. Thought my lip was closed- it wasn't. Squirt my entire desk with water. Laughed... hard, despite my numb face and escaping saliva. Hotness.

Birthday Dinner

So, it was my friend Donielle's birthday (We work together). I was invited to go out to dinner and then to hang out afterward. The whole time, I promised I would go to dinner, and then I was planning on bowing out gracefully from the post-dinner hang out.

Pre-Dinner:

I was at my townhouse in the suburbs getting ready. I wore, what I thought to be, a fun, black dress. It was from banana republic, and I thought it would be perfect. I put a coral cardigan on and called it an outfit! I plugged the address of the restaurant into my GPS and headed out.

Dinner Commute:

I figured I may need to get some cash out. (Time out: In the recent months, I have become a person that feels like they always need to have cash on them, like I am turning in to my grandfather. Hello? Debit/Credit cards are mainstream- this is 2010, ok, TIME IN.) I went to the bank, withdrew the cash. Drove away. Felt like I left the ATM before I was cleared out, meaning people could access my account. (Time out: My debit card was in my hand, so access to my account would have been impossible, TIME IN.) So I drove the wrong way in the bank parking lot, circled the lanes like a vulture, and re-drove through the ATM, to of course, find out the ATM was blinking WELCOME... to the NEXT customer.

Anyway, I arrive at the restaurant. I circle the restaurant (One-way streets, you understand) and park on the street in front. I get out and see the birthday girl, Donielle, and her boyfriend, Lee.

Dinner:

My outfit is lame. Donielle is wearing this magenta dress with purple heels- HOTNESS. Me = lame teacher...whatever.

I am seated at the table next to some other work friends... and about 20 minutes into dinner, Donielle says: "Kim- do you see that guy over there by the door?"

Me: "Who?"

Donielle: "See him, the guy that came over here and talked to me and Lee?"

Me: "The Bouncer?"

Donielle: "Yeah."

Me: "Yes"

Donielle: "He's Lee's friend. He came over and asked who the new white girl is..."

Me: (I look to my left and to my right, and THEN realized I was one of two white people at the party of 20. The only other white person was my friend Amorita, but they all knew her, because she has two biracial children... she was familiar.) "Oh.. um, really? Maybe he was talking about Amorita?.."

Donielle: "Nah girl, he was looking at you." (She then takes her hand, points her index and middle finger into her eyes, whips them around, and points them at me.) "You."

Me: Laughter. The kind where you feel like you don't know what else to do, but you are well aware that laughter is not an appropriate response either...

I spend the rest of the dinner chatting it up and having an awesome time. The group gets ready to head to the next destination: Oak City. Its a bar/lounge/dance floor. I am convinced to go with the group.

Commute to Oak City:

I put the address in my GPS as 501 American Blvd. It is actually 5001 American Blvd. That extra zero makes a huge difference...... I made it eventually.

Oak City:

I find the group of people, we find a table, and my friend Jennifer and I go to the bar to get a drink. Jennifer is a pro- so she gets our drink orders in right away at this packed bar. At this point, I am standing right behind Jennifer, who is next to the bar. Within a second after placing our order, there is this guy, GRINDING, on my right hip.... despite my teacher outfit. I turn and try to push him back a little bit, saying, "Hi....."

Guy: (severely impaired) "Hiiiii"

Me: "Umm, Hi"

Guy: "What are you drinking/"

Me: "Oh, I don't know, ummm, JENNIFER (tugging on her arm), what did I order?"

Jennifer: "Lemon-drop"

Me: "Lemon-drop"

Guy: "What's she drinking- drinks are on me! Guess what I do for a living?"

Me: (really.. this is your pick-up?) "Oh, I don't know... "

Guy: "GUESSSSSS"

Me: "Oh, who knows... Banker?"

Guy: "NOOOOOO. I just got back from Afghanistan. I am in the ARMMY." (His severe drunken state suddenly makes sense)

Me: "Oh awesome! Congrats on being home!"

OUT OF NOWHERE, he takes a hand full of change, and dumps it down my dress. Before I can even warn Jennifer, she turns around, and he dumps change into her dress. We bust out laughing... b/c what else are you supposed to do? As we pick up our drinks to walk back to our table, coins ting ting ting to the floor.. the entire NIGHT. The guy hangs around our table like the plague, and dances like Ramone, the stripper/caterer/officiant/store owner from the Proposal.

... Seriously. That all happened.. in one night. OH, and as I walked out of Oak City, a dime fell out of my dress. Do you want to talk about it?