Maid Service

Hello all,
My name is Cara Overstreet and I am a no-name a girl who is going to talk about my everyday happenings and all the shenanigans I somehow end up in. (Wow, my high school English teacher would be so disappointed with this introduction. Sorry Mrs. Norman, I love you). I know, you are absolutely enthralled right now, because this is all so interesting. Yes, that was sarcastic, as is my tone most of the time. But perhaps all those reading this can learn from me, or at least be kind of entertained. Obviously,  I really have no idea what I am getting myself into. This idea to start a blog was suggested to me by my best friend Cassie plus a little incentive from a good looking redheaded boy. Be prepared, there will be quite a few boys mentioned in this blog, some cute and some... not so much. It might get mushy in some spots, I apologize in advanced. Or maybe I shouldn't. Can you tell I am indecisive?

This idea came to me the other night in a Steak N Shake. No judgement people, J.K. Rowling started the most amazing book series ever written by writing on the corners of napkins. Anyways, I was in Steak N Shake with some of the FSU cheerleaders and Cassie (who should be an FSU cheerleader but she is a walking medical accident waiting to happen). My roommate Chelsey cheers for FSU. She's awesome, and I love her. One by the name of Kyle sits down in front of me and proceeds to ask me how I am doing. During our little conversation, he delights me with the compliment, "your Facebook statuses crack me up all the time." This is probably the best compliment I have received in a while, unless you count the toothless man at the gas station in the hood saying, "I'm just looking sweetie, I'm not trying to be fresh." I know I sure did. I thanked Kyle and told him I would have to stay up on my A-game to keep him laughing. That is when Cassie has the golden idea, "Cara, you really just need to start a blog."

Over my double steak melt with ketchup only, I decided I liked this idea a lot. I kept thinking of all the crap I get myself into and that I could probably write a self help book on how to not fail at life or a good Harry Potter type book if I could keep my ADD/ADHD in check for ten minutes. It's so bad that when I take adderol for exams, I focus on everything from cleaning my ceiling to planning my nonexistent wedding on pinterest, all while my test material sits on my bed untouched. How I passed half of my college classes, I will never know.

So, what I am thinking is, this could be a really good thing for me. I sometimes feel as though I should talk to a therapist, just to talk stuff through. I am not crazy, I just can't make up my mind to save my life. Like literally if I was one of those bomb squad people, I would die because the bomb would blow up before I could choose between the blue wire or the red wire. But since I don't picture myself post up on an overstuffed leather couch with someone asking me how I feel about things, this could be my outlet.

I really don't have a specific thing to talk about. It will probably range from embarrassing stories like me making a fool of myself in front of the Pan- Hellenic counsel during college orientation, to absolutely dreadful, yet eyeopening ones like my ex-boyfriend breaking up with me because I don't have my 15 year old body anymore. Yeah, ouch. My opinions on certain things or people may crop up. These are just opinions, not facts. So don't let your panties conform to wad form if they are not the same as yours. 

The orientation story sounds like a good one to start with. Here goes:

It was the last day of orientation and I could not have been happier. No more getting locked out of our suite style bathroom, no more skinny shirtless boys pounding on the door at 2 am telling you there is a party a brewing in room 314, and no more waking up at the ass crack of dawn to play slap ninja with a bunch of sleepy-eyed college kids. I had had it with hiking all over campus so much so that I almost said forget it, I'll just stick to community college.

Cassie and I roomed together for orientation. It was a godsend that her mom and my Nanny made that happen. I cannot control myself before 12 noon so had I been with someone annoying... well I can't promise I wouldn't have "cut them" (Bon quiqui voice implied). Since it was the last day, we decided to match each other. We both had these limited edition Victoria's Secret shirts that had our graduation year on it with the proclamation "all this and brains too." Oh, how I was going to put this shirt to shame in the very near future.

We had to go to two "networking" seminars. Everything sounded boring but since we had to pick we went with the Pan- Hellenic seminar. I believe we got out of the second one because our Nanny and Mom told our group leader that we had to go take our medication. Although we probably needed some, we weren't really taking meds. We just didn't want to participate.

The seminar was inside a big ballroom where there were about 200 chairs set up. Cassie and I picked some seats that were closer to the front and just about dead center. The two girls leading the seminar were your typical sorority girl, blonde and perfect. They handed out some sunglasses, which I loved but later lost to a boyfriend. He took a liking to them and I never got them back. In return, he will never get his baseball sweatpants back. Check mate sir. They began to talk about what being in a sorority could do for you and what you needed to do to become a delta gamma theta pi mu alpha, including paying a whopping 2000 dollars per semester. One of the  concerned mothers (our relatives had slipped off to the mall) asked what the 2000 dollars covered. Blonde #1 proceeded to say how it covered meals, clothing, dues, the cleaning and maintenance of the your house, etc, etc.

Here's where I come in. For whatever reason, I slipped my hand up in the air. An innocent gesture really. Looking back I could feel Cassie looking over at me like, "Oh, boy. Here we go." Blonde #2 said, "Yeah sweetie, what's your question?"  Before I could stop myself I asked, "Okay, so I live off campus... Will the maid call me ahead of time when she wants to come clean my house?"

Both Blondes #1 and #2 looked at each other in disbelief and then one finally said, "the sorority house sweetie."

I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. How could I have been so stupid?! Like someone was really going to come clean my apartment. Of course she meant the sorority house. To my left, Cassie shrunk down in her seat and slid her new sunglasses down over her eyes. I know she was thinking, "Oh, God, we match. I am not with her!! I am not with stupid!" Too bad we had on matching shirts.

Some girls let out little snickers of laughter, but not much other commotion went on. I know they all went home laughing about it though. I sure did. I wanted to die right there in my seat. Cassie was already comatose in her chair, purposely not looking at me or the Blondes in the front. When the seminar finished, she bolted from me. The Blondes gave me a final, "mark them off the list, we don't want her in our house" look and I walked out the door.

This whole thing was humiliating. Probably more humiliating than when I tripped down the stairs by the big chemistry building during my first tour of FSU. Seriously? I hadn't had a scraped knee since I was like twelve, and I just had to fall down those stairs in front of all my potential classmates. However, this story comes in handy when I need a good laugh.

I think I am going to put a moral of the story at the end of each of these blogs. I guess the moral to this one is: learn to laugh at yourself. Trust me, everyone else is. If you can laugh at yourself, nobody else can really touch you.