The Adventures of Rosie and Maya

Maya and the Metro Card

I came to DC to visit with my family that I haven't seen in over a year and was given a metro card and a new travel buddy, my step sister Maya. Today was our first day venturing out into the DC area on our own and had a few little mishaps.

The first mishap was not checking the bus schedule before we left the house. It was only a 30 minute wait but still, it's hot out and I can't stand the heat. I much prefer the chilliness of air conditioning. At least we know for tomorrow to check the bus schedule.

Mishap number two was Maya. The way the metro card works is that when you get on the bus there is a censor pad and right in the middle of the pad is a picture of the metro card. You place your metro card on top, it makes a beeping noise, money is deducted from the card, and you go find a seat on the bus. Maya did not get this memo and this next moment will forever be referred to as the 'double, double, toil and trouble' moment. Unsure of where to put her card she did several large circles around the pad (which to her looked like she was stering around herown concocktion in a coldroun) until after about 2 minutes when the bus driver pointed on the pad where she had to place the card.

Mishap number three was also Maya. Another way this silly little metro card works is when you get off the subway you have to scan it. As I approached the scanner machine(that also doubles as a barracade) I pulled the metro card out of my pocket, swiped it over the censor pad, and went through the barracade. Maya didn't see my ninja metro card movement and figured she could just walk through. And she would have made it if the barracade hadn't closed on her.

'Rosie, how did you get through?'

'I paid...."

And with a large crowd of people standing behind her, she fished through her purse to get her metro card and made her way through the barracade.

Who knows what will be in store for us tomorrow as the adventure continues when we visit Georgetown.

The Shocking Electric Fence

I was walking along a road in this tiny town in Ireland with a new friend, Tracy. After having spent the last 20 minutes walking we decided to take a small break and took a seat on the stone wall nearby that separated the road from a nearby empty field. Tracy was about to jump over the short stone wall so she could sit in the green grass when she noticed the electric fence. She asked if I thought it was a real electric fence and I just shrugged my shoulders assuming it was...I mean who would put up a pretend electric fence?

She then pointed out that the field was empty and who put up an electric fence for an empty field. Now she had peeked my curiosity.... why would someone use a real electric fence for an empty field. I leaned over the wall a little bit, fully intended to just barely touch the fence. But then I chickened out. What if it was a really strong electric shock..that would be an interesting phone call to my mom.

"Uh, Mrs. Yahn? Well, Rosie touched an electric fence and well the shock was so strong that her heart stopped."

And then my mom will just sigh loudly while shaking her head, "Yup, that sounds like something she would do..."

But Tracy kept egging me on promising me that the fence was fake, just some wire to spook people from going on the field. And that was all I needed to know...

So I leaned over again, biting my lower lip in anticipation as I lowered my index finger to the wire, and my eyes shut so tightly.

My finger made contact with the wire and there was a very loud *POP* while everything went black for a brief second and the words 'Oh shit' going through my mind. I opened one eye slowly and saw Tracy's concerned face holding back a huge smile. When I nodded that I was ok she began laughing hysterically and I couldn't help but do the same. I wriggled my index finger and noticed that my elbow was hurting...that was weird.

The Pink Sock

The big student village has one small laundry room and about 1/3 of the machines are 'out of order.' Figuring that everyone has getting over their hangovers or still sleeping I decided the early afternoon would be the perfect opportunity for me to take care of the giant mountain of dirty clothes. I found a wash machine in the corner, tossed in the packet of detergent, and shoved every sock and shirt into that machine, added my money and noticed that I had 40 minutes to kill. I cleaned the kitchen. Close your mouth I know how to clean.

The cleaning took a little bit longer then I expected but considering how empty the laundry room was I didn't think anything of it. I turned the corner and saw it, a huge pile of wet clothes sitting on the floor and a bright red towel that looked awfully familiar. Damnit, I hate this place.

I picked up my towel and looked towards the washing machine. The timer on the machine showed that it had only started about 5 minutes ago, I looked from the machine to the red towel in my hands, and right back to the machine. Peering through the little window on the wash machine, an evil little smirk spread across my face.

I took my towel and all of my other clothes that were sitting on the floor and shoved them into the dryer. Before closing the door I made sure I had what I needed, closed it, added my money, and hit the button for colors.

I made sure no one was around and then opened the wash machine and dropped my gift to my new friend. Lucky for me this ass hat was washing white clothes. Unlucky for him, I lost one of my bright pink socks last time I did laundry and the other one was looking for a new home.

Enjoy your new pink clothes, Bitch.

The Final Countdown

Flash Countdown

Missing Frying Pan

I walked into the kitchen, my stomache grumbling as I pushed the heavy door open. I wasn't even sure what I was going to make but from the sound my stomach just made it had to be soon. Opening the fridge I noticed some chicken breasts that I could fry up and there were some veggies that I could use as well. I pulled everything that I needed out of the fridge and set it on the counter as I glanced over looking for my frying pan. But where was it?

The last time I used the frying pan I had washed it up and put it with my other drying dishes near the sink. Unfortunately, all I saw over there was a plate, two glasses, and my silverware. I opened the cubbard and only saw my food. I opened the shelves and found a few pots staring back at me. But where in the hell did my one and only frying pan go?

After about 20 minutes of looking in every shelf and cubbard I opted for a little juice break. I took a glass from the counter and when I opened the fridge I found it. My frying pan was sitting on the second shelf, my roommates shelf. And what the hell? Has this kid ever heard of a bowl? Inside my frying pan was a combination of lettuce, tomatoes, and croutons...why was a salad in my frying pan when there were so many clean bowls on the counter?

Still slightly confused I took my pan out of the fridge and dumped the contents into a bowl. I then went to my room and wrote a nice note and put it on the bowl, cleaned off my pan, and made my food.

'Dear roommate,
The frying pan is for frying.
Salads go in bowls.'

The Pigs

A game that my friends and I played while traveling around Europe.

**Edit**
Due to recent events I feel the need to inform everyone that the pigs feature in this video have never been to Mexico. They were born and raised in a small village outside of London and have recently retired and are enjoying their golden years in Salzburg, Austria.

Today Was a Day Like Any Other

Today began like any other. My sleep is some what under control and I really needed to bring my computer into Tech Guys because for some reason the charger wasn't charging. So I used up the last precious moments of my computers life to figure out how to get to PC World. Easy enough....just take the bus I normally take into town and from there take a different bus.

I stood at the second bus stop, fidgetting with my Ipod, humming, looking at my finger nails, probably made a few weird faces when this older 'gentleman' approached me. In one hand he had a sandwich and the other a huge bottle of juice...oh and let's not forget the massive black eye he was sporting. He started talking to me but I could barely understand his heavy Welsh accent. After about 5 minute of me saying, 'Sorry, I didn't catch that. I'm sorry, what?' I finally understood what he was asking.

'Um, well would you go with me to the cash machine?'

'Actually, I have to wait on the bus. I really need to get some where.'

'Oh well, I really need to get cash out and I was going to pay for a cab to take you where you need to go.'

'No, but thanks. I already paid for my bus pass.'

What the hell? Is asking a girl to the cash machine serial killer code for 'follow me to this dark alley so that I may stab you several times and stuff you in my trunk.' Well, actually here in the UK the trunk is called the boot...but that's besides the point.

Later that day I was on my way back to the bus stop to head home when I noticed something grey out of the corner of my eye. I turned and saw a pigeon flying towards me. For some reason it didn't really click in my brain...I saw the pigeon flying towards and yet the only thing I could think was, 'Wow, that bird is really close.'

And then it happened. The wing of the pigeon hit me right on the bridge of my nose. I don't remember what happened in those 5 seconds except me thinking 'OH MY GOD IT HIT ME! MY FACE WILL NEVER BE CLEAN AGAIN!' I heard the flutter of feathers and the giggles of people who saw the accident.

The minute I got home I went straight for the bathroom to scrub the skin off my face. I don't really need that skin anyway.