Prepare Yourselves

Hello my few and fabulous fans! I AM ALIVE! I know I disappeared and some of you may have been like "wtfv the center of my world is gone!" BAHAHAHAHA just kidding lol I know I am not that good a blogger. That said, I know how grumpy I get when Allie from Hyperbole and a Half doesn't blog, so I figured I would elevate my own self worth and pretend some of you feel the same about me. Moving on. I have been missing my favourite blog so I was reading some of my old favourites and first of all, I wish I had the equipment to accompany brilliantly hilarious posts with  epically drawn pictures. However, considering I just had to pay $1500 replacing the car I totalled, replacing my hardware does not seem likely. Secondly, I am considering adding some additional humour posts. Because people love outrageously funny but true stories. And as my love bug Matt can attest, I have my fair share. Believe me. They're not quite as good as walking around Texas in a illness induced stupor, but they have their moments. Secondly, this blog has become more of a expression of myself as a whole as compared to just fashion. However, I realize that having only 4 followers that  I can see, I need to make sure I don't lose you. So opinions? I am incapable of making decisions, again as love bug will be able to attest.

Moving on... again. For those of you that caught onto my car accident story, worry not, for I will indulge you. That said this isn't that funny; more like sad lol. ANYWAYS... so I am headed to work. It is wednesday February 22. I live in a crowded but generally small metropolis in Western Canada (excuse my funky capitalization here there and everywhere). So I am on one of our major roads in a 60 km/h zone. The chump in front of me is hell bent on going 25 km/h. Now seeing as how I am already pushing the limit with the amount of travel time I allowed, I give him a honk. However the ass hat slows down even further, inducing a manic rage within the bowels of my soul. However, I resist the rug to ram his stupid Toyota, I calmly switch lanes, move ahead a few cars, and move back into my lane when it is safe. At this point I am traveling behind an immaculately kept minivan. I am a full car length behind it, as per my farting driver's ed instructor, and going the limit to the joy of all behind me. All of a sudden le immaculate van just stops. "No Problem!", I think, and I hit my brakes. In a perfect world, I would have stopped, had an elevated heart rate, and turn up the radio to calm down from the almost-accident nerves. THIS WORLD IS SO FAR FROM PERFECT!!!!!!!!! Why? Well because Satan's puddle was located in between me and the super van. When I hit my stupid, no good, unreliable ABS brakes, I hit le puddle, and slid like a champ into the back of the van. Air bags go off. Head gets hit on hard as rock headrest then even harder steering wheel. Blackness. Then smoke. Everywhere. I open my eyes and try and breathe but am choked by the miraculous non oxygen flooding out of my now deflated air bags. My horn is going off sporadically of it's own accord, because thats what all horns should do in an accident. I try to move and can't and start to panic because I think I am paralyzed. No, no, my hypochondriosis was unwarranted; it was just my trusty locked seat belt squeezing every inch of my rotund body!!! Do I call 911? Nnnnnope. Do I call family? Police? Heaven? Nnnnnnnope. I dial love bug to inform him that I have been in an accident and should probably call 911. Not one of my brightest moments. So I hang up then realize 911 is indeed not necessary. Well hallelujah. I call father next. I think that was my worst mistake of all, because in a panic, father and I just frustrate each other. And indeed, that is all that happened. Through bad phone reception and several hangups we get thoroughly frustrated with each other. Anyway, fast forward through annoying technical mumbo jumbo to the cavalry showing up; mother and sister (both remaining calm, thank goodness) come and help me clean everything out of my destroyed, broken, for-sure-going-to-be-written-off-car. They help me deal with the less than cordial police officers (who gave me a ticket for careless driving, thanks to the guy I had honked 10 minutes earlier dhfbgkjaerbdn), and then mother takes me to the hospital to get checked out.

I walk into the ER and obviously look alarming, because without even fully looking up, a nurse wordlessly opens up the security door and sits me down where she starts collecting information from the fuzzy-haired 14-year-old-looking girl that smells like gun smoke. She starts by taking my blood pressure. She looks a little alarmed and says "Wow, it's so low! You could be dead!" WHY THANK YOU NURSE LADY MAKING JOKES ABOUT THE UNIVERSITY STUDENT WHOSE JUST BEEN IN AN ACCIDENT THAT DESTROYED HER PRECIOUS CAR, LETS MAKE A FEW MORE INAPPROPRIATE COMMENTS, SHALL WE????!!!!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?! We finish up the rest and I am sent to the waiting room where I sit amongst a woman with an immovable arm, a man that hasn't passed stool in 3 days, and a child that things his mother's arm is a tissue. Needless to say I was not a happy camper. To make matters worse, the pains associated (arm, head, stomach, shoulders, back, neck, and other impact areas) starts to set in. Yes, why not, because I wasn't cheery enough. Anyway as the human snot machine, and the waste disposal unit get helped, I sit fuming. Then I start to get really sleepy and panic because I assume my brain is hemorrhaging from sheer force. Then I gain my wits and continue the anger strike. But the my chest and arm start to hurt. I AM HAVING A HEART ATTACK!!!! Instantly I start thinking about all the exercise I never bothered with, and the fitness I should've attended to. Luckily, my third year biology major brain kick in and I remember arm pain is only symptomatic in males. It is at this climax of my nerves/rationalization/even more nerves that I get called in to be helped. The doctor, who will forever be my nemesis, presses his ham hands into the sorest of spots and cannot tell by the wincing that yes, indeed Dr. Genius, that does hurt!. Then he tells me that I look ok, but to come back in if I suddenly start vomiting all over the place. Thanks for the vote of confidence doc. 

Fast forward a month and I have finally found a car to replace the broken carnage that was my 2001 Chevy Cavalier, named Lou. It took so long, no thanks to the used car department at my work who SOLD THE VEHICLE THAT I WAS HOPING TO POTENTIALLY BUY but I finally settled on a 1991 (yes folks, indeed, a car older than myself) Buick Park Avenue. It is loaded. A little finicky, but it wouldn't be a part of Robyn's world if it wasn't, right? 

Now that I am done telling my spirited and frustrating tale of destruction and doom, I must confess that I am soooooo tired because I have no proper sleep wake cycle. I will blog tomorrow about fashion related items, because I have been stock piling material! Now I can blog through my so-boring human memory class. Don't worry, I am not confused; I know tomorrow is Sunday and there are no classes on sunday, I am making just a mere anecdotal comment if you will about the soon to be status of my blogging. Anyway, goodnight! Sleep tight! And if you have rage dreams about red toyota rav 4's, know that you have a special place in my heart!!!