24-hour Comic Day 2007 was pretty great when @Squidbunny admitted that she'd had a crush on me for a while, and summer the year after that was pretty awesome when we finally met and went on a road trip to SDCC together.
Still disappointed it didn't work out, occasionally, but I'm glad we're still friends and it'd still be the best summer of my life even if we weren't.
Right when I got off the plane, though, and she came to pick me up? That was on of the best moments. I'd admitted to her over Skype a while before that I'd never really properly kissed anyone before, what with tongue and all that, and I wondered if that ever went wrong. As in, people getting too into it and ending up hitting their teeth together by accident. And now that I'd thought about it, I couldn't un-think it, and I was slightly worried that this might happen with us and ruin the moment!
And she said nooooooo, of course it wouldn't happen and that it was a stupid thing to worry about what are you an idiot.
And do you know what happened when I got off the plane and we kissed?
BAM. Dental collision. It was hilarious and I felt tremendously vindicated. It was spectacular.
Was driving home after work years back and I saw an old man walking down the road in 90+ degree heat with a gas can so I pull over and offer him a lift to the gas station. He hops in and I get him the gas and back to his car. When he gets out he said thankyou, and that around 15 or so cars had passed him before I showed up. He then told me to thank my mom for him because she raised me right apparently.
PaperLuigi44My amazement is at maximum capacity.Registered Userregular
I remember back when I was about 10 we lived in a house which had this really nice pool. And one day my dad invited one of his army buddies and his (rather large) family for a bbq.
Partway through the night their youngest daughter stumbled and fell into the pool from the side and couldn't swim, so she was sinking fast. I was on the opposite side of the pool and I can't remember if anyone else had noticed because I immediately jumped in and saved her.
It's not really a story I have fond memories of because someone's life was on the line, but I would say it is a time when I did good.
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The GeekOh-Two Crew, OmeganautRegistered User, ClubPAregular
I am confused as to how people don't have fond memories.
I don't know about anyone else, but I just don't remember things from years gone by in much detail at all. It worries me sometimes. Sometimes I think that I have a really bad memory, and sometimes I think I'm just a really fucking dull person.
I get depressed sometimes when I go to gatherings like the one for Lindsay recently and people are sitting around telling stories and and talking about good or wild times they've had, and I just don't fucking have any stories to tell. Like I said, I don't know for sure if I have poor memory, or if I just haven't ever done much worth remembering.
I remember how good it felt finishing my first and last half-marathon. It was end of summer after my soph year of college. Like freshman year of college, I spent it being lazybutt and gained like 40 pounds from my high school weight and was generally a mopey bitchcakes, all pining over a friend and being a sad git. The same girl who turned out to be a lesbian and pity-sexed me and just basically tore my heart apart. And it was just a rough year. Then at the end of the year, she said she was transferring out and I realized how much of my freshman year was spent trying to please her and Kinda used her as a crutch to not be social, and even had my grades suffer, even failing an engineering class. Wouldn't call it a waste, since it did teach me a lot about myself. But it was painful to an emo kid like me. So summer starts and I resolve to try to be a better person, get myself put together. Started running and trying to reconnect with old high school friends and new college friends. Soph year starts, and I keep at the working out and start making cool friends and bonding more with people, and had a great year, spent time studying more and balancing a healthy social life. Got my first fake id, had a blast, etc etc. End of the year, I decide to push myself further and signed up for a half-marathon towards the fall. And spent that summer running and hanging and being chill. Day comes and while I didn't set the world on fire with my time, I kept up a steady pace and finished and felt such a huge sense of accomplishment, took a minute to just look back on how far I've gone since freshman year of college. It was a cool feeling. Working towards a goal was cool. Of course, after that, I kinda Backslid a bit, but ehh, it is hard being an over-achiever. Maybe I need should sign up for a real marathon in the future, ehh
I remember how good it felt finishing my first and last half-marathon. It was end of summer after my soph year of college. Like freshman year of college, I spent it being lazybutt and gained like 40 pounds from my high school weight and was generally a mopey bitchcakes, all pining over a friend and being a sad git. The same girl who turned out to be a lesbian and pity-sexed me and just basically tore my heart apart. And it was just a rough year. Then at the end of the year, she said she was transferring out and I realized how much of my freshman year was spent trying to please her and Kinda used her as a crutch to not be social, and even had my grades suffer, even failing an engineering class. Wouldn't call it a waste, since it did teach me a lot about myself. But it was painful to an emo kid like me. So summer starts and I resolve to try to be a better person, get myself put together. Started running and trying to reconnect with old high school friends and new college friends. Soph year starts, and I keep at the working out and start making cool friends and bonding more with people, and had a great year, spent time studying more and balancing a healthy social life. Got my first fake id, had a blast, etc etc. End of the year, I decide to push myself further and signed up for a half-marathon towards the fall. And spent that summer running and hanging and being chill. Day comes and while I didn't set the world on fire with my time, I kept up a steady pace and finished and felt such a huge sense of accomplishment, took a minute to just look back on how far I've gone since freshman year of college. It was a cool feeling. Working towards a goal was cool. Of course, after that, I kinda Backslid a bit, but ehh, it is hard being an over-achiever. Maybe I need should sign up for a real marathon in the future, ehh
Neat. I connect with this in many ways.
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Indie Winterdie KräheRudi Hurzlmeier (German, b. 1952)Registered Userregular
I can't think of a story of my own, so I'm going to steal someone else's, because it was awesome and I know you've all read it, but time to read it again!
Back in high school my friends and I used to hike up this mountain that overlooked our hometown. We designed a flag featuring (among other things) a drawing of Chewbacca, and we each signed it. We posted the flag on a PVC pipe that we glued to a rock formation. Another group of hikers left a lockbox and a notebook on the peak, so people began leaving journal entries and signing the flag when they visited. We graduated and attended different colleges, but we still got together and climbed back up to our old flag during holidays.
A string of wild fires broke out during our freshman year, including one that surrounded our home town. The fire fighters kept the fire from destroying any homes, but I saw news footage of our flag mountain engulfed in flames. I returned home and climbed the mountain the next chance that I got.
From the mountain's base I could already see that the flag was gone, but I wanted to survey the damages and check for the logbook. I walked through several miles of blackened, burned out brush to reach the top. It was extremely desolate, so I was even a little bit more depressed when I reached the peak than when I began the hike. However, two awesome things greeted me at journey's end:
1) Our PVC flag staff had been replaced with a far-superior metal rod that was driven into the ground.
2) The lockbox and logbook survived.
I flipped through the logbook, checking for entries post-fire, and found the following:
--- I made my way up here as soon as possible and did all that I could. Unfortunately, I was unable to save the flag. We have installed a new flag post for your future use.
I can't think of a story of my own, so I'm going to steal someone else's, because it was awesome and I know you've all read it, but time to read it again!
Back in high school my friends and I used to hike up this mountain that overlooked our hometown. We designed a flag featuring (among other things) a drawing of Chewbacca, and we each signed it. We posted the flag on a PVC pipe that we glued to a rock formation. Another group of hikers left a lockbox and a notebook on the peak, so people began leaving journal entries and signing the flag when they visited. We graduated and attended different colleges, but we still got together and climbed back up to our old flag during holidays.
A string of wild fires broke out during our freshman year, including one that surrounded our home town. The fire fighters kept the fire from destroying any homes, but I saw news footage of our flag mountain engulfed in flames. I returned home and climbed the mountain the next chance that I got.
From the mountain's base I could already see that the flag was gone, but I wanted to survey the damages and check for the logbook. I walked through several miles of blackened, burned out brush to reach the top. It was extremely desolate, so I was even a little bit more depressed when I reached the peak than when I began the hike. However, two awesome things greeted me at journey's end:
1) Our PVC flag staff had been replaced with a far-superior metal rod that was driven into the ground.
2) The lockbox and logbook survived.
I flipped through the logbook, checking for entries post-fire, and found the following:
--- I made my way up here as soon as possible and did all that I could. Unfortunately, I was unable to save the flag. We have installed a new flag post for your future use.
I shall return when the mountain burns again.
-The Fire Chief
I remember this story
it is still fuckawesome
The Fire Chief will be Chewbacca when the mountain burns again.
CG Faggotry on
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ceresWhen the last moon is cast over the last star of morningAnd the future has past without even a last desperate warningRegistered User, Moderatormod
I am trying to think of something helpful I've done that would sound at all impressive to anybody, and I can't, and it's troubling me.
And it seems like all is dying, and would leave the world to mourn
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Tommy2Handswhat is this where am iRegistered Userregular
holy shit that story
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Jacques L'HommeBAH! He was a rank amateur compared to, DR. COLOSSUS!Registered Userregular
edited August 2011
Little sister story!
First off, my sister didn't start talking until she was 5 and even now she has a mild speech impediment. Our local school district had put her in learning disabled classes up until sixth grade, when, having had enough of being treated like there was something wrong with her, she demanded to be given the opportunity to test out of them. She did, and joined the social and educational circle she deserved, under the condition she attend speech classes. Classes she resents to this day.
Fast forward six years and she's a senor in high school looking to enter the world of professional art. Having decided art was what she wanted relatively early in her high school career, she had started compiling a portfolio at the beginning of her junior year and was, as we perceived, well on her way to becoming a graphic designer. My heart would swell to tell her story to others. I'd never been so proud of anyone else.
But then, shortly before the end of the school year, something snaps. The last in a string of self-perceived failures, her inability to get an oil pastel picture of a flower just as she'd like it, and years of low self esteem combine to cause a total meltdown. She destroys the picture with a few others, and has only been stopped from destroying the rest of her portfolio by the good graces of my mother. screaming at the top of her lungs "I don't care any-fucking-more!" she breaks down sobbing, and starts rambling on about how she isn't now and never will be good enough to get into art school. She'd had similar episodes before, but never like this, and never destroying her work, especially that which was in her portfolio!
By now we've spent hours trying to calm her down and bring her to reason, but she remains in her state of total self-deprecation. Tired, frustrated, and terrified for her future, I am unable to restrain myself any longer. Tears welling in my eyes, and a lump in my throat, I explode.
"Dammit, Maddy! I'm not going to let you do this! I've never seen you work so long and hard on anything in your life! You've invested too much of your time, sweat, and soul in this for me to just let you give up now! I've invested too much in you to give up now!"
Tears now pouring down my face, there is a dead silence between us. Then, she too breaks down, thrusting her arms around me, and crying into my shoulder. Nothing being said, I knew all was well again.
In a few weeks, she starts school at the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design, with a $40,000 scholarship. Never more proud of anyone.
First off, my sister didn't start talking until she was 5 and even now she has a mild speech impediment. Our local school district had put her in learning disabled classes up until sixth grade, when, having had enough of being treated like there was something wrong with her, she demanded to be given the opportunity to test out of them. She did, and joined the social and educational circle she deserved, under the condition she attend speech classes. Classes she resents to this day.
Fast forward six years and she's a senor in high school looking to enter the world of professional art. Having decided art was what she wanted relatively early in her high school career, she had started compiling a portfolio at the beginning of her junior year and was, as we perceived, well on her way to becoming a graphic designer. My heart would swell to tell her story to others. I'd never been so proud of anyone else.
But then, shortly before the end of the school year, something snaps. The last in a string of self-perceived failures, her inability to get an oil pastel picture of a flower just as she'd like it, and years of low self esteem combine to cause a total meltdown. She destroys the picture with a few others, and has only been stopped from destroying the rest of her portfolio by the good graces of my mother. screaming at the top of her lungs "I don't care any-fucking-more!" she breaks down sobbing, and starts rambling on about how she isn't now and never will be good enough to get into art school. She'd had similar episodes before, but never like this, and never destroying her work, especially that which was in her portfolio!
By now we've spent hours trying to calm her down and bring her to reason, but she remains in her state of total self-deprecation. Tired, frustrated, and terrified for her future, I am unable to restrain myself any longer. Tears welling in my eyes, and a lump in my throat, I explode.
"Dammit, Maddy! I'm not going to let you do this! I've never seen you work so long and hard on anything in your life! You've invested too much of your time, sweat, and soul in this for me to just let you give up now! I've invested too much in you to give up now!"
Tears now pouring down my face, there is a dead silence between us. Then, she too breaks down, thrusting her arms around me, and crying into my shoulder. Nothing being said, I knew all was well again.
In a few weeks, she starts school at the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design, with a $40,000 scholarship. Never more proud of anyone.
yeah, that's great and all
but is she hot?
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Jacques L'HommeBAH! He was a rank amateur compared to, DR. COLOSSUS!Registered Userregular
She looks kinda like she-me.
So, yes, I would assume so.
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RankenphilePassersby were amazedby the unusually large amounts of blood.Registered User, Moderatormod
So this is my first post and it's kinda a wall-o-text, so I apologize for that.
In my junior year, I deiced to ask one one my friends to prom (never going to any social events before this was a big deal for me.) I knew wanted to do one of those really big showy ways more to make her feel special then anything, but also because I wanted the experience. At first I was going to make a Pokemon team that spelled out "will you go to prom with me?", but I felt that was too cliche. After that I brainstormed a bunch of ideas, most were thrown our because they involved a car she didn't have or vandalism of the school, but then one of the school lame fund raisers caught my eye.
Near Valentines day my school would hold a fund raiser were you could buy carnations that would be delivered the Thursday before Valentines Day, and I admit it, I had mocked this raiser before as a chance for girls to convince boys to buy them flowers, so they can walk around with it to try to make them feel better about themselves, but this was different, my reasons were pure. So one day at lunch I went up to the little stand and tried to order 3 dozen carnations for her, not unexpectedly the class president didn't take me seriously, one because no one had ever ordered that many, and two because I was not the type of person to take part in such a school related activity. Even when i showed him the money he didn't believe me, after about 5 minutes of this the class treasurer came and took my order. So with the order in place all I could do is wait.
Before I knew it, it was the Thursday and we were in class together and a group of people came in and started handing out the flowers, and then they left without delivering the bundle. At that point my mind exploded in thought "had they taken my money and not ordered" "how on earth was I going to ask her know?" and after my mind reached the conclusion that it was a good thing because there was no chance of her saying yes anyway, the girls came back with the bunch and dropped it off in front of her desk and a her face turned to one pure confusion. After a moment she look at the tag attached and saw my name on it and she turned to me and asked "wtf" and as a response I asked her what she thought about going to prom with me, and the ensuing seconds were ones of joy and fear, as she was hugging me so tight I couldn't breath and she said "yes".
2 weeks later she decided she would rather go alone then go with me, so it didn't go exactly as planned but I still recall it as a fond memory.
I am confused as to how people don't have fond memories.
I don't know about anyone else, but I just don't remember things from years gone by in much detail at all. It worries me sometimes. Sometimes I think that I have a really bad memory, and sometimes I think I'm just a really fucking dull person.
I get depressed sometimes when I go to gatherings like the one for Lindsay recently and people are sitting around telling stories and and talking about good or wild times they've had, and I just don't fucking have any stories to tell. Like I said, I don't know for sure if I have poor memory, or if I just haven't ever done much worth remembering.
Oh god, The Geek, this is me!!! You are not alone in your fog memory!!
So this is my first post and it's kinda a wall-o-text, so I apologize for that.
In my junior year, I deiced to ask one one my friends to prom (never going to any social events before this was a big deal for me.) I knew wanted to do one of those really big showy ways more to make her feel special then anything, but also because I wanted the experience. At first I was going to make a Pokemon team that spelled out "will you go to prom with me?", but I felt that was too cliche. After that I brainstormed a bunch of ideas, most were thrown our because they involved a car she didn't have or vandalism of the school, but then one of the school lame fund raisers caught my eye.
Near Valentines day my school would hold a fund raiser were you could buy carnations that would be delivered the Thursday before Valentines Day, and I admit it, I had mocked this raiser before as a chance for girls to convince boys to buy them flowers, so they can walk around with it to try to make them feel better about themselves, but this was different, my reasons were pure. So one day at lunch I went up to the little stand and tried to order 3 dozen carnations for her, not unexpectedly the class president didn't take me seriously, one because no one had ever ordered that many, and two because I was not the type of person to take part in such a school related activity. Even when i showed him the money he didn't believe me, after about 5 minutes of this the class treasurer came and took my order. So with the order in place all I could do is wait.
Before I knew it, it was the Thursday and we were in class together and a group of people came in and started handing out the flowers, and then they left without delivering the bundle. At that point my mind exploded in thought "had they taken my money and not ordered" "how on earth was I going to ask her know?" and after my mind reached the conclusion that it was a good thing because there was no chance of her saying yes anyway, the girls came back with the bunch and dropped it off in front of her desk and a her face turned to one pure confusion. After a moment she look at the tag attached and saw my name on it and she turned to me and asked "wtf" and as a response I asked her what she thought about going to prom with me, and the ensuing seconds were ones of joy and fear, as she was hugging me so tight I couldn't breath and she said "yes".
2 weeks later she decided she would rather go alone then go with me, so it didn't go exactly as planned but I still recall it as a fond memory.
Mom was at the atm, which wasn't too far, but it was a bit away. My sisters and I were bored, so we started playing the lil game at the escalator where your fingers are running along it. Wasn't paying attention to where my lil lil sis was reaching... I hear a horrible noise and her scream.
Her finger had gotten sucked into the bottom bit. Other sister runs to get Mom and I pull the lil lil one free. We hurried over to a bathroom in the Safeway type thing in the mall. I help my mom get first aid stuff and start assessing the damage. Can't remember if we ended up going to a doc or not. I want to say that we did, but mostly because she has a big ol scar now.
I like to think that I saved her from losing a finger.
Thinking back on it, might have done less damage if I had hit the emergency stop button. Not sure if those existed or not though.
Mom was at the atm, which wasn't too far, but it was a bit away. My sisters and I were bored, so we started playing the lil game at the escalator where your fingers are running along it. Wasn't paying attention to where my lil lil sis was reaching... I hear a horrible noise and her scream.
Her finger had gotten sucked into the bottom bit. Other sister runs to get Mom and I pull the lil lil one free. We hurried over to a bathroom in the Safeway type thing in the mall. I help my mom get first aid stuff and start assessing the damage. Can't remember if we ended up going to a doc or not. I want to say that we did, but mostly because she has a big ol scar now.
I like to think that I saved her from losing a finger.
Thinking back on it, might have done less damage if I had hit the emergency stop button. Not sure if those existed or not though.
That is so great.
Horribly scary because I have a tiny little-girl's irrational fear of escalators (it stems from a scene in horror movie I accidentally watched when I was little). I never let it outwardly affect me of course, but that image of that bloody escalator is always in my mind when I'm on one.
You should hold it over her head from time to time.
I thought the premise of this thread was for stories when you did something good (as opposed yo doing something well).
Oh, now that I read it, you're right. Down here in the south, people use "done good" instead of "done well" so often, that I didn't make the distinction.
Times like these I really really miss the delete function.
Edit: I realize you're in the south, too. But I'm not sure if you're in hick south or not.
ThreeCubed on
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SheriResident FlufferMy Living RoomRegistered Userregular
edited August 2011
No, no
I just read it that way
I'd say saving your sister's finger counts for both
Once a friend of mine really needed someone to be there for him and I am pretty proud of the fact that I was all the way through (I don't want to give any details because it's not my place).
I mean I know that such things are entirely expected and that's fine. I just think that if I was ever a good friend to someone, or at least as good as I could be, then it was then. It wasn't really hard or anything but I think that in terms of the support I gave I did a good job. So yeah, that's one time.
Seriously, my only motivation for exercising now is not to get fit or look pretty to find a mate. It's because exercising keeps my Hg high enough that I can donate.
That, and donating every savable organ in my body when I die are probably going to be my legacy.
I should probably try to do more good things. But I'm tired.
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SheriResident FlufferMy Living RoomRegistered Userregular
I'm not! Now I feel like I have bothered the thread with my post! I am sorry, continue posting your stories!
Once a friend of mine really needed someone to be there for him and I am pretty proud of the fact that I was all the way through (I don't want to give any details because it's not my place).
I mean I know that such things are entirely expected and that's fine. I just think that if I was ever a good friend to someone, or at least as good as I could be, then it was then. It wasn't really hard or anything but I think that in terms of the support I gave I did a good job. So yeah, that's one time.
Many many people out there are not really a "good" friend to their friends. You should take pride in sticking by your friends and being there for them. It's not as easy as it seems.
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Tommy2Handswhat is this where am iRegistered Userregular
Posts
Still disappointed it didn't work out, occasionally, but I'm glad we're still friends and it'd still be the best summer of my life even if we weren't.
Right when I got off the plane, though, and she came to pick me up? That was on of the best moments. I'd admitted to her over Skype a while before that I'd never really properly kissed anyone before, what with tongue and all that, and I wondered if that ever went wrong. As in, people getting too into it and ending up hitting their teeth together by accident. And now that I'd thought about it, I couldn't un-think it, and I was slightly worried that this might happen with us and ruin the moment!
And she said nooooooo, of course it wouldn't happen and that it was a stupid thing to worry about what are you an idiot.
And do you know what happened when I got off the plane and we kissed?
BAM. Dental collision. It was hilarious and I felt tremendously vindicated. It was spectacular.
Felt really good about myself for that one.
Twitter Steam
Partway through the night their youngest daughter stumbled and fell into the pool from the side and couldn't swim, so she was sinking fast. I was on the opposite side of the pool and I can't remember if anyone else had noticed because I immediately jumped in and saved her.
It's not really a story I have fond memories of because someone's life was on the line, but I would say it is a time when I did good.
I don't know about anyone else, but I just don't remember things from years gone by in much detail at all. It worries me sometimes. Sometimes I think that I have a really bad memory, and sometimes I think I'm just a really fucking dull person.
I get depressed sometimes when I go to gatherings like the one for Lindsay recently and people are sitting around telling stories and and talking about good or wild times they've had, and I just don't fucking have any stories to tell. Like I said, I don't know for sure if I have poor memory, or if I just haven't ever done much worth remembering.
Neat. I connect with this in many ways.
I remember this story
it is still fuckawesome
The Fire Chief will be Chewbacca when the mountain burns again.
First off, my sister didn't start talking until she was 5 and even now she has a mild speech impediment. Our local school district had put her in learning disabled classes up until sixth grade, when, having had enough of being treated like there was something wrong with her, she demanded to be given the opportunity to test out of them. She did, and joined the social and educational circle she deserved, under the condition she attend speech classes. Classes she resents to this day.
Fast forward six years and she's a senor in high school looking to enter the world of professional art. Having decided art was what she wanted relatively early in her high school career, she had started compiling a portfolio at the beginning of her junior year and was, as we perceived, well on her way to becoming a graphic designer. My heart would swell to tell her story to others. I'd never been so proud of anyone else.
But then, shortly before the end of the school year, something snaps. The last in a string of self-perceived failures, her inability to get an oil pastel picture of a flower just as she'd like it, and years of low self esteem combine to cause a total meltdown. She destroys the picture with a few others, and has only been stopped from destroying the rest of her portfolio by the good graces of my mother. screaming at the top of her lungs "I don't care any-fucking-more!" she breaks down sobbing, and starts rambling on about how she isn't now and never will be good enough to get into art school. She'd had similar episodes before, but never like this, and never destroying her work, especially that which was in her portfolio!
By now we've spent hours trying to calm her down and bring her to reason, but she remains in her state of total self-deprecation. Tired, frustrated, and terrified for her future, I am unable to restrain myself any longer. Tears welling in my eyes, and a lump in my throat, I explode.
"Dammit, Maddy! I'm not going to let you do this! I've never seen you work so long and hard on anything in your life! You've invested too much of your time, sweat, and soul in this for me to just let you give up now! I've invested too much in you to give up now!"
Tears now pouring down my face, there is a dead silence between us. Then, she too breaks down, thrusting her arms around me, and crying into my shoulder. Nothing being said, I knew all was well again.
In a few weeks, she starts school at the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design, with a $40,000 scholarship. Never more proud of anyone.
yeah, that's great and all
but is she hot?
So, yes, I would assume so.
In my junior year, I deiced to ask one one my friends to prom (never going to any social events before this was a big deal for me.) I knew wanted to do one of those really big showy ways more to make her feel special then anything, but also because I wanted the experience. At first I was going to make a Pokemon team that spelled out "will you go to prom with me?", but I felt that was too cliche. After that I brainstormed a bunch of ideas, most were thrown our because they involved a car she didn't have or vandalism of the school, but then one of the school lame fund raisers caught my eye.
Near Valentines day my school would hold a fund raiser were you could buy carnations that would be delivered the Thursday before Valentines Day, and I admit it, I had mocked this raiser before as a chance for girls to convince boys to buy them flowers, so they can walk around with it to try to make them feel better about themselves, but this was different, my reasons were pure. So one day at lunch I went up to the little stand and tried to order 3 dozen carnations for her, not unexpectedly the class president didn't take me seriously, one because no one had ever ordered that many, and two because I was not the type of person to take part in such a school related activity. Even when i showed him the money he didn't believe me, after about 5 minutes of this the class treasurer came and took my order. So with the order in place all I could do is wait.
Before I knew it, it was the Thursday and we were in class together and a group of people came in and started handing out the flowers, and then they left without delivering the bundle. At that point my mind exploded in thought "had they taken my money and not ordered" "how on earth was I going to ask her know?" and after my mind reached the conclusion that it was a good thing because there was no chance of her saying yes anyway, the girls came back with the bunch and dropped it off in front of her desk and a her face turned to one pure confusion. After a moment she look at the tag attached and saw my name on it and she turned to me and asked "wtf" and as a response I asked her what she thought about going to prom with me, and the ensuing seconds were ones of joy and fear, as she was hugging me so tight I couldn't breath and she said "yes".
2 weeks later she decided she would rather go alone then go with me, so it didn't go exactly as planned but I still recall it as a fond memory.
Oh god, The Geek, this is me!!! You are not alone in your fog memory!!
Pretty fond of that.
and I filled buckets with all the sunfish I caught
I am a monster!!
This makes me really sad
Mom was at the atm, which wasn't too far, but it was a bit away. My sisters and I were bored, so we started playing the lil game at the escalator where your fingers are running along it. Wasn't paying attention to where my lil lil sis was reaching... I hear a horrible noise and her scream.
Her finger had gotten sucked into the bottom bit. Other sister runs to get Mom and I pull the lil lil one free. We hurried over to a bathroom in the Safeway type thing in the mall. I help my mom get first aid stuff and start assessing the damage. Can't remember if we ended up going to a doc or not. I want to say that we did, but mostly because she has a big ol scar now.
I like to think that I saved her from losing a finger.
Thinking back on it, might have done less damage if I had hit the emergency stop button. Not sure if those existed or not though.
that girl sounds awful dude!
E: to @Cub3d that is
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that was pretty sweet looking back.
It's funny too, i wasn't the problem child, i was the quiet one my parents forgot lived with them.
waking up to find no one else is home and no one got you up to go visit family, fun times. sure it only happened once or twice, but still.
That is so great.
Horribly scary because I have a tiny little-girl's irrational fear of escalators (it stems from a scene in horror movie I accidentally watched when I was little). I never let it outwardly affect me of course, but that image of that bloody escalator is always in my mind when I'm on one.
You should hold it over her head from time to time.
Oh, now that I read it, you're right. Down here in the south, people use "done good" instead of "done well" so often, that I didn't make the distinction.
Times like these I really really miss the delete function.
Edit: I realize you're in the south, too. But I'm not sure if you're in hick south or not.
I just read it that way
I'd say saving your sister's finger counts for both
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But you're right. I think Orik wants to hear about good we've done in the world. Like, Superman would totally fill this thread.
Lex Luthor: not so much. We does things *well* but not particularly good things.
That's probably not a good sign.
Don't be
Convenient
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On the other hand, I don't think it's proscriptive at all, both types of stories seem entirely adequate and fair to post, so don't worry about it.
Once a friend of mine really needed someone to be there for him and I am pretty proud of the fact that I was all the way through (I don't want to give any details because it's not my place).
I mean I know that such things are entirely expected and that's fine. I just think that if I was ever a good friend to someone, or at least as good as I could be, then it was then. It wasn't really hard or anything but I think that in terms of the support I gave I did a good job. So yeah, that's one time.
Seriously, my only motivation for exercising now is not to get fit or look pretty to find a mate. It's because exercising keeps my Hg high enough that I can donate.
That, and donating every savable organ in my body when I die are probably going to be my legacy.
I should probably try to do more good things. But I'm tired.
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Many many people out there are not really a "good" friend to their friends. You should take pride in sticking by your friends and being there for them. It's not as easy as it seems.
but
but she totally ditched you later!