That Time I Bowled with an Artist, a Diva, and a Sociopath

One of the darkest days of my life was when I found out that all of the college students taking the general education gym class were required to be a part of an intramural sports team. I was stunned when I heard the news. I felt like Rocky Balboa in one of those boxing movies that I never finished watching where he gets punched in the face over and over again. I had already nearly killed myself trying to run a mile and a half earlier in the semester, and now the teacher wanted me to play a sport with other students?

That Time I Worked on a Dairy Farm

Most people who have gotten to know me over the past few years find it impossible to believe that I worked on a farm as a teenager. I don’t know if it’s because of my love of Starbucks or my penchant for using mildly intellectual words like “penchant,” but people rarely accept it when I say that I am well versed in farm culture. Since this will probably continue happening, I figured that the best way to explain this era of my life would be through a blog post.

That Time I Had to Take a Gym Class

When I graduated from high school, I thought that there was one activity that I would never have to participate in again: gym class. I figured that it was a battle that I would have to fight in middle school alone, and I was convinced that I had left the sweaty, always-picked-last activities were behind me. I realized that this was not the case as I discovered that I would have to take my school’s form of a gym class during my second semester of college.

That Time I was Accosted by a Drunk Woman Outside of an Ice Cream Parlor

I was sitting outside an ice cream parlor in the city of Oakwood on the eve of my birthday when I witnessed something that I would expect to see on a Bravo reality show, not in real life. My friend Adam had offered to take me out for ice cream in celebration of my impending birthday, and he had suggested Graeter’s, one of those overly trendy ice cream shops. (When I say “trendy” I mean that all of the ice cream is served in incredibly small portions and features hipster flavors such as “Chocolate Stout” and “Fair Trade Vanilla Bean”). Anyway, I digress.

That Time I Received a Haircut from Hell

The profession of cutting hair, like that of piloting a large aircraft or conducting brain surgery, requires a certain amount of skill and confidence. Unfortunately, a woman who cut my hair a while ago lacked both of the aforementioned qualities. With a job interview coming in less than two weeks, I knew that I needed to get a haircut. It’s not that I am opposed to having a haircut like Zac Efron in the first High School Musical, but I have neither the looks nor the talent to pull his style off. Armed with this knowledge, I headed to the most renowned hairdressing emporium that I could find: the budget hair salon Great Clips. In hindsight, it has been made quite clear that budget haircuts, like back-alley lobotomies, should be avoided at all costs.

That Time I Unintentionally Asked Out an Entire Group of High School Students

I was standing near the front of the recital hall feeling overheated and claustrophobic as I prepared to step onto the stage. As an Admission Office employee, I had been asked to give the university’s introduction presentation to a group of visiting high school music students. I had given this presentation what felt like one thousand times before, so I wasn’t concerned about it before entering the hall. That quickly changed as I mingled with some of the other presenters for the evening and realized how ill-prepared I was to speak to this particular group of music-focused (antisocial) high school music students.