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My Near Death Experience

Posted by M on Feb 1, 2009 in Completely Biased Memories

When I was a mere toddler, perhaps two or three, my parents took me swimming at their friend’s pool. Of course, it was more like trespassing than swimming, considering that their friend wasn’t home and while they had said Ann and Cliff could bring the little rascals over to play, they didn’t expect my parents to throw a regular pool party while they were gone.

In addition to trespassing, we also managed to borrow some food from their house, putting burglary on the list of criminal offenses committed by the Flood Family. Yet, I suppose we should be grateful because it very nearly became the scene of my demise.

Now, what exactly happened during that pool party which led to my very near death is somewhat debatable. Or more like, my parents believe a completely false version and my story, the true one, is often mocked and claimed to be the fiction of a creative imagination. But, as the victim of the situation, I think it’s fair to assume that my story is the most accurate.

Let me set the scene. It’s a glorious summer day. The sun is shining, my two favorite friends of my childhood, Nolen and Maureen are playing with us, and our parents are on the other side of the pool, hanging out. As I am a tiny child, I cannot swim, but I like the water so Nolen, always the gentleman, lets me push him in. Unfortunately, as I go to do just that, I lost my center of gravity and fell into the pool myself. And that was when I almost died.

I’m told I was only underwater for a few seconds. And I admit, that’s likely true. But, even today, I can still remember those few seconds. I couldn’t breathe, I was thrashing around, and of course, there was a light. In essence, I was on the brink of death.

Then Cliff and his best buddy, Kevin, hopped in the pool and scooped me out. Apparently I didn’t even cry. I’m pretty tough like that. Plus, when you’ve just seen the light and are aware that you almost died, you’re a little too shocked to cry. And then your mom offers you a snack and you go from shock to being distracted by food and you never really get around to crying.

Seventeen years after this life changing moment, I am still scarred. After that day, water and I never really saw eye to eye. Actually, I hate it. My showers last five minutes on a long day, I hate washing my hands or my face, and I still can’t swim. I prefer Beauty and the Beast over the Little Mermaid hands down. I can, however, doggy paddle. But I can’t hold my breath underwater. I guess I should be embarrassed but I’m not. Some people were just born to keep their feet on land.

 

(*special thanks to annie flood for inspiration)

 
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My Writer’s Block

Posted by M on Feb 1, 2009 in My Daily Show

The problem with being as exceptionally witty as me is that there’s pressure to stay on top. 

I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes, twiddling my thumbs, trying to discover something worth giving my important and sarcastic thoughts about. I thought about writing about my obsession with cakes or the fact that I haven’t watched a superbowl in seven years. I’ve been called unamerican for my refusal to waste 4 hours of my life viewing a football game, but as I am 1/32 Native American (Cherokee Tribe, thank you very much), I’m more American than many of the fools sporting their faux jerseys while stuffing their beer bellies with McDonald’s newly offerred fifty piece chicken nugget meal.

I thought about writing about Sorority Rush, but that topic is so truly ridiculous that I need more than just a few minutes to give me thoughts on it. I even got so bold as to think about just mocking some truly poorly written blogs on the interwebs (have you ever hit up cakewrecks.com? I’ve never so badly wanted someone to just post pictures and stop commenting. Her words literally make my stomach hurt).

Anywhos, I’m going to use the next few days to think of some truly beautiful things to write about and I also encourage you to text/fax/email/call/bat signal me up some ideas. Thanks in advance. Stay gorgeous Mid-Michigan.

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