I haven’t posted in forever it feels like. For a long time I felt like I just didn’t have anything to talk about, now all of a sudden I am simply BURSTING with things to say. I don’t even know where to start. So, I’m going to start with the reason behind the title of this particular post. Up until Thursday night, I lived with a stigma. But no more, I have thrown it off; I FINALLY saw The Avengers for the first time. And it was fantastic. Now I am no longer one of the apparently approximately .05% of America who hadn’t seen it. But why did I take so long, you ask (you asked that, didn’t you? If not, you should go ahead and ask it now so I don’t feel stupid for saying that)? Well, Dear Reader, the reason is simple- I never go to the movies. Like, I maybe go to the movies 5ish times a year. I just don’t do it. I also don’t even rent movies. I’m not sure why; I love movies. I’m not like some incredibly discerning movie critic who will only watch the very “best movies” or anything. I mean, some of my favorite movies of the past five years are kids movies, and one of my favorite movies I’ve seen recently was Here Comes the Boom (look it up if you’ve never heard of it, and turn off your skepticism, IT IS SO GOOOOD). It’s just that, for some reason, I never get around to watching a lot of movies.
So, it’s taken me literally until this past Thursday to watch all of the movies that are supposed to come before The Avengers for optimal plot line making-senseness. In order to do this, my roommates and I also had to rent another movie to watch before The Avengers, and that movie was Captain America.
I think I have found the man that could turn me into a legitimate celebrity stalker. WHERE HAVE I BEEN WHILE CAPTAIN AMERICA HAS JUST BEEN OUT THERE IN THE WORLD?!?!? How have I never heard of/seen him!!! Look at this picture of the guy who plays Captain America, Chris Evans:
Oh. Oh my. Ohhh, my. Where are my stalking shoes? If you know me, you know that I love to joke about how much I love certain celebrities (Josh Hutcherson, Damian McGinty, English soccer league, hello). I also joke about hunting them down and marrying them. But obviously, that’s just a joke. I mean, stalking is really expensive. Just think about the travel expenses! And the time commitment… Stalking has to be really hard work. But for that man… oooh, it might be worth it.
*DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT A STALKER, THOUGH. I AM TOO POOR, IF NOTHING ELSE*
We watched Captain America first, and then The Avengers right after. We were legitimately over halfway finished with the second movie before I was able to stop myself from making appreciative sounds/comments every time Captain America came on the screen. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone who I found that instantly, overwhelming attractive. All I can say is… that is a fiiiiiine specimen of a man.
But moving on before I get lost in those gorgeous eyes, those chiseled features, the slight scruff, the exquisite tailoring…
What was I saying?
Oh right, I was moving on so that didn’t happen. Seriously though, I’m going to get a hold of myself. Get it together, Sara. Focus.
Okay, I’m good. I’ve moved down the page enough that I can no longer see the picture, so we should be good now.
The next day after my unusual bout of movie-watching, I participated in something at my college called Drover Difference Day. It’s where you sign up for sessions of all kinds of volunteer work around the town my college is in. To my great shame, I had never done Drover Difference Day in the two years since it started, when I was a sophomore. I was determined that I would participate as a senior, and not graduate without doing my part to give back to the community.
The experience was not what I was expecting.
Already an unfortunate factor was that I had to sign up for the morning session, because I had to ride home from college with my sister(for reasons I actually will get to later). So, I was signed up from 9 to (tentatively) 12:45. Another mark against the whole experience was that I didn’t know what to wear. For some reason, you’re not told exactly what volunteer activity you’ll be doing. So it can be anything from painting bleachers at the school to pulling weeds in someone’s flowerbeds to reading to children in elementary schools. Those activities call for very different wardrobe choices. But since knowing beforehand was not to be, I just decided to wing it and went with sweats and a t-shirt, and some Converse because I somehow thought that might give the look a little bit nicer touch (what made me think this??? Maybe because it was like 8:20 in the morning when I was making this decision, I guess). So I roll up, half asleep in the freezing cold, to the designated meeting area, expecting to see a sea of fellow student volunteers, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to go forth and rain volunteery blessings upon the community.
You might have guessed, that was not what I saw.
Instead, there were TWO fellow students, and a few faculty members who work around my college. I guess everyone else was smarter than me and decided to volunteer for afternoon activities. I was very grateful, however, when my I saw my third roommate walk up a little bit later. I don’t really see much of her, so I didn’t know that she was volunteering at the same time. But, boy, was I glad she did. After my roommate (her name is Megan Wilkerson, but I call her Wilko and will do so in this post) arrived, we left very quickly and in some slight confusion. Luckily, Wilko had drove and she let me ride with her so we didn’t have to squish into the provided van. They told us something about going to a home for elderly people, so I was expecting to go and spend time with some seniors, and was regretting my slightly hoboish appearance. Suddenly, en route, we see the van just pull over at a random house. We eventually get out, and are immediately told to put on some gardening gloves and start turning over flowerbeds on the side of the house. I still don’t know what was actually in the house, because we never went in.
Just a quick note here, I don’t want it to sound like anyone was rude or mean to us. That’s one thing I love about our school, is everyone is incredibly cheerful and friendly and nice. This experience was just very under-explained and rather confusing, especially since I’d never participated before.
So there I was, standing in the freezing cold with Wilko. Both us came to the conclusion that we didn’t know how to turn a flowerbed and we knew nothing of gardening. But everyone else just plunged in, so we followed, and just began ripping out weeds. Twenty minutes later, I was freezing and my knees were already dying from all the bending over (I have joint problems, THANKS SOCCER). Wilko, who had come straight from class, was wearing really nice jeans and WHITE CANVAS SHOES while grubbing in the dirt. My thin converse, meanwhile, were also getting dirty while simultaneously letting my feet slowly freeze and wither. To top it off, suddenly, there was a spider.
I. Hate. Spiders.
Thankfully, almost immediately after this, one of the nice faculty ladies asked if anyone wanted to volunteer to go to another place, because no one had apparently shown up there like they were supposed to. Everyone was silent, then Wilko (wisely, in my opinion) asked what we would be doing there. The lady told us, “Sorting clothes!” I think I already had my gardening gloves off by the time she finished speaking, and Wilko was right behind me. We asked her if we would be inside, and she told yes. We thought we were in the money.
We were wrong.
We arrived at the place and were directed to what was nothing more than a big, glorified shed, warmed only by two small space heaters. We started hanging up a pile of clothes, which honestly wasn’t so bad, since I was sitting in front of one of the heaters. It was easy work, and went pretty quick. To our surprise, the only other thing they wanted us to do was to fold two bins of clothes they had in the back. This will be easy and I can go take a nap! I thought to myself, unwisely optimistic. I don’t want to go on and sound like I am in any way criticizing this establishment, because I think what they do is absolutely fantastic. But the worst part of the experience can be summed up by saying this: people donate their old underwear. We had to sort said underwear. Wilko, being an absolute champion, dealt with it all and put it where it was supposed to go. I don’t know how she did it. By the end, my hands were so cold I almost couldn’t fold stuff anymore. At least at the other place, I’d had gardening gloves to keep my hands warm. To our intense relief, the lady told us we could leave afterwards, and Wilko and I went back to the apartment and washed our hands thoroughly, and I threw myself into bed to try and revive some sort of warmth in my body.
They say that volunteer and charitable work builds character. I regret to say, I did not feel very character built. I think perhaps I was just too cold to feel anything. That’s not to say I regret doing it, because I’m glad I did. I just wish I felt like I’d done more (and I probably should have complained less). I’m so fiercely grateful that I’ve never been put anywhere near a position where I was so desperate that I needed secondhand undergarments. It occurred to me that maybe I should recognize that simply having to sort them is an indescribably better than having to wear them if I want to wear underwear. It’s so easy to take for granted my freedom to buy myself nice clothes that are completely unnecessary. The whole point of my other blog is to create my own style cheaply, but I think sometimes I forget that, for a lot of people, the concept of style is completely irrelevant. Some people are grateful just to have clothes on their back and a pair of shoes.
So maybe, even though it wasn’t what I was expecting, Drover Difference Day turned out to be just what I needed. And maybe a little bit of character building did seep in under that layer of permafrost I’m pretty convinced was covering my person.
Now, I mentioned that I was going to explain why I had to ride home with my sister from school. Well. Oklahoma was supposed to be slammed by a giant blizzard last Monday/Tuesday. It was supposedly going to be one of the worst we’d ever had, with TWO FEET OF SNOW in some places. Now, all you snowy people in snowy places who are (hypothetically) reading this, that might not seem like a big deal. But in Oklahoma, we’re used to dealing with tornadoes, not blizzards. It was essentially shaping up to be a Snowpocalypse, according to Oklahoma weathermen. So, we left my car at home for my dad to drive to work, since his truck’s heater doesn’t even work. We figured he probably might need one to face a blizzard. Consequently, I just rode up with my sister.
As for the “blizzard,” well, we got one. Partially. As in, the upper western part of the state got one. NO ONE ELSE. We got more rain than anything, and a little bit of snow in the evening. There wasn’t even snow left on the ground by Tuesday morning, however. WORST SNOWPOCALYPSE EVER. Way to go, Oklahoma. Way to go.
PS I went with German because Captain America is the scourge of the Nazis, obviously.