The Horton Tsunami

My dear ex-housemate of 2 years was Mr. Chris Horton.  He is actually my longest standing housemate.  I am a little anal when it comes to a clean environment.  My coworkers and Keith constantly hear; “I can’t work in this clutter, what is this crap, do you really need this?”  Luckily Chris accepted the fact that I was crazy, and I accepted the fact that he was subpar, so it worked.  My REI co-workers had a nickname for his clutter, “Horton Crumbs.”  If you needed Chris, you just followed the crumb trail.   Haha.  In all honestly Mr. Horton was an awesome housemate.  He was always there to feed my kitties crunchies, pick me up when I forgot keys, or listen to me complain. 

Anyhow, the day of the Horton Tsunami Chris decided to do dishes and clean his car.  This was breaking news in itself, but it gets better.  Chris plugged up the sink, turned on the water and headed out to his car to grab a few (possibly months worth) of bottles and Tupperware that were acquiring that sweet green residue.  Now I was not actually present, but this is the Horton story reiterated.  Apparently he forgot about the sink and began cleaning his car.  After some time had past he walked into a flooded kitchen.  He took every blanket and towel in the house and tossed it on the floor in a failed attempt to soak up the water.  He then placed an uncanny amount of blankets in the washing machine, which resulted in the first aftershock, overflowing water and a broken washer.  By the time I came home I couldn’t tell if water was coming from the garage or the kitchen.  It was everywhere! 

Life after the Tsunami was difficult.  We had no towels to dry with, no blankets to sleep with, and no washer to clean with.  Two weeks after the incident, Keith got the washer up and running again.  We were able to clean up the disaster that was left following the Horton Tsunami, and all lived happily ever after.

In all seriousness, I wish those in Japan the best. 

Thank you for reading

JenniferMarie

The Votes Are In!

The majority voted and people want to hear about Brynne and Jen’s worst adventure ever.  We have had many crazy little adventures, but this one I am about to tell tops them all.  It’s even crazier then dating a pirate or a drug dealer, and by drug dealer I do not mean the pharmaceutical rep.  The boyfriend crazies are another story in itself.  In addition to the pirate, drug dealer and pharmaceutical rep, we have the gay (maybe 2), the nerd, the tattoo artist, the alcoholic, the psyco, the marine and hmmmm I can’t even remember.  It doesn’t matter though, that’s not today’s story.

When Brynne and I were 18/19 years old we started working at a small vet clinic in Citrus Heights.  This is a horrible story in itself and I hated/we hated that job more then anything else in the world.  I loved the animals, but our coworkers and our boss were from a different world.  I think I came home crying everyday because the job was so bad.  I remember my breaking point.  Brynne and I were mailing flyers when my boss came in being as obnoxious as ever.  I handed her an envelope and left.  She was shocked to say the least, and weeks later Brynne left too.  I do have to say that the drama in that place was pretty amusing.  I remember one woman was cheating on her husband, meeting people online and heading out to “meet” them on her lunch break.  It gets better, but I won’t share because that’s not today’s story either.

Anyhow....... We used to coordinate our lunches together and head out for an hour so that we could talk s&!t, pretty typical.  One day we stopped off at this little Mexican Restaurant.  The food was great, conversation great and then it was time to head out.  As we starting walking back to the car we noticed a man walking towards us with a sleeping bag in his hand.  We thought it was odd.  As he started walking faster, we began to scurry to the car.  We realized he was running after us.  We got in the car and my hands were shaking so bad I couldn’t get the key in the ignition.  I was screaming to Brynne, “What do I do?”  She yelled, “F*@King go!”  I got the key in the ignition and the bum jumped on the top of my hood.  I drove forward and his face just plastered on the windshield.  I am not sure how it happened, but I put the car in reverse and he flew off.  Off we went!  No more Mexican Restaurant.

That’s the story, short and sweet.  I think the reason why that was the worst ever, was just because I have never experienced my heart pump so hard in my life!

Just in case you don't know....... below is a stunning picture of my Brynne friend. haha O yes, and a surprised Ari friend.

Thanks for reading

JenniferMarie