b3ta.com user juliajuliajulia
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for juliajuliajulia:
Profile Info:

none

Recent front page messages:


none

Best answers to questions:

» Shame

Stone Soup
When I was a youngin', we kept a dish of cat food outside so our dear Kofie could grab a bite on the run. Being the bright little six year old I was, I took a handful of rocks and put them in the bowl along with her food.
I guess I didn't realize the dire consquences; a five pound belly and chipped teeth.

Anyway, later that night, my family sat down to our own dinner. My mom brought over a steaming pot and put it on the table. She smiled at me (leeringly, I suppose) and took off the lid. She then proceeded to scoop out a spoonful of steaming rocks, placing them on my plate.
She punctuated my confusion with a simple statement:
"Now you know how poor Kofie feels."
(Wed 30th Nov 2005, 22:56, More)

» Kids

Oh and another:
I am studying to be a teacher, so I was doing some observations at the schools. One time, I was observing an English class where the teacher was going over the vocabulary words of the day. One of the words was "Gingerly". She asked the class what that word means, to which one student mutters under his breath "...that's how Eric does things."

Eric had red hair.

I had to try very hard not to laugh, because it was so clever. It was also way over the teacher's head, because she didn't miss a beat. This made suppressing my laughter even more difficult.
(Sun 20th Apr 2008, 23:59, More)

» The Dirty Secrets of Your Trade

repost: library
i was working at my university library. i'd had a hefty dinner of pizza and diet coke. some gas built up just as a patron came to the desk in the multimedia room where i work. the room was completely empty. he asked for a pair of head phones. i said "alright, one second" as i proceeded to pray the hardest i've ever prayed not to fart from the sheer pressure of standing up. i didn't, thank god.

then, as i handed him the head phones, it came out. it was clearly audible in an otherwise deadly silent room.

i kept a perfectly straight face and proceeded to swipe his card magnificently. as soon as his back was turned to walk out of the room, my head was in my hands in shame.

in conclusion: before this occurrence, i always wished i could witness someone fart at the library. there are some huge reading rooms where the only sound is the rustling of papers. i think that would be the perfect time for someone to let one slip. honestly, in a perfectly quiet room...that would make my work day complete.

instead, it had to happen to me....sigh.
(Fri 28th Sep 2007, 3:57, More)

» I witnessed a crime

brother
when my brother was 5, he stole a single winter glove from a store called the Shoe Zoo. What he wanted with this single glove, I can only guess - though I suspect that, even in his toddler-y stage, it was purely for the thrill.

This thrill then turned to fear and shame the next day. He buried the lonely glove in our back yard. That night, he confessed to his sin and his disposal of the item.

After my mom made him dig it up, she drove him right back to the Shoe Zoo. He woefully apologized to the cashier for stealing the glove and getting it all dirty.
(Mon 18th Feb 2008, 19:55, More)

» Dumb things you've done

a forty and two cans of beer:
This occurred the first weekend I moved into my duplex with some fellow college (Uni for the brits) friends.

The neighbors in the other side of the duplex were having a party, so our half decided to make an appearance since we didn't know them yet. I didn't know a single person there outside of my roommates, so I alleviated the awkwardness in my gut with a bottle of Colt 45 and two cans of Pabst.

At the end of the night, I woke up in one of the neighbor's beds with absolutely no idea how I had gotten there. (No roofies, I promise. I guarded my drinks all night) I sat up, saw that I was mysteriously in my pajamas, and looked around. There were about 15 people in the room and the scent of pot lingered in the air. I felt their eyes burning into my back as I hobbled out of the bed and stepped over them to get to the door. Good first impression.

The next morning, I had to get to work at the library for 10 am. I woke up as soon as the alcohol exited my system, which was 7:30 am. When I went downstairs for a drink, I grabbed a key lime donut from the leftover dozen we had gotten the day before.

This is why I had florescent green puke half an hour later.

After my stomach settled, I showered and forced myself to go to work anyway - it was also my first weekend at this job, so I figured it was too soon to call out sick.
I congratulated myself on my determination in between bouts of nausea as I drove to work.

Thankfully, I was stationed at the multimedia desk, so little movement was required. As soon as I booted up the computer, my stomach got queasy again. This time, careful swallowing and deep breaths weren't enough.

After about twenty panicked steps out of the multimedia room, I couldn't hold it and I vomited - swallowed it (it would have gotten on the carpet) - and vomited again...all over the carpet anyway.
It was still florescent green...and it still tasted like a key lime-filled donut.

Horrified, I literally ran to the bathroom, just in case. I didn't puke again, so I washed my face and rinsed out my mouth. The puddle of puke was still there on my way back and I could see how far I DIDN'T get to the bathroom. I then proceeded to call upstairs and ask to go home. They made me wait a half hour, which I spent sitting at the desk with blood-shot eyes and puke breath.

On my way out, the vomit puddle was gone - in it's place was a wet spot. I'm assuming the janitor saw it and scrubbed it out, but I'm still paranoid to this day about whether anyone witnessed it happening.

The story ends the next day outside of a convenience store. One of my neighbors (who works at the store) was on his cigarette break when I walked by. I asked him how I ended up in his bed that night. He said that he didn't know why, but I went back to my house, changed into my pajamas, came back to his side and made myself at home in his bed. He was not in his bed when this happened. No sexual encounters occurred.

Also, we deduced that I did NOT get confused and think it was actually my room. My room is in the corner facing the back yard. His room is in the opposite corner, facing the street.

Why I thought sleeping in his bed, in his house was a good idea is still a mystery.
(Tue 25th Dec 2007, 22:19, More)
[read all their answers]