Boogers, Balls of fire, and Texting

If you were a booger, I’d pick you first J

The confusion and shock your feeling?  That was my reaction too. Though I may have been more confused, seeing as the comment and picture were randomly sent to my phone from an unknown number. You know who this is from, at least.

What do yo do when you get texts from random numbers? You ask who it is of course. The other person tells you who it is, which is when you get super excited because it's your long lost friend ---- !!

Instead, I get this genius.

Its me???!!! :/

Umm, yeah. If I don’t know who you are the first time, this does little to help.

I text: And who is me supposed to be?

How soon you forget me.... L

Wow, thanks bud. Not only do you feel the need to express your emotions through smiley faces, you are also, apparently incapable of realizing when someone obviously doesn’t know who you are. Seriously, why are people so difficult?

I cut to the chase, not keen on playing this stupid texting game (which is probably meant as a flirtatious overture): I don’t know who this is. Either tell me who this is or stop texting me.

His brilliant response?

Dont be mean to me. :S

Again with the evasiveness! We could avoid all this if you would tell me who you are.

Me, being a girl with infinite patience, turned my text alert off and ignored the eight following messages sent to me. In case you’re wondering, yes every one of them had some sort of smiley face and it wasn’t until number seven that he said: its me, Ted. ;)

The eighth, he finally admits he thinks he has the wrong number.

Umm. Yeah. If you had used your brain Ted, you would have realized this sooner. People like Ted make me worry about the future of humanity. They really do.

I’m changing the subject, but not really because I still plan on talking about text messages, just not about Ted.

This morning driving to my chemistry final I notice the car making strange clunking sounds. The vehicles shaking oddly and I feel the undercarriage rumble ferociously under my feet.

The car’s going to explode. I know it. I pull over and call my mom. I express my fears: the car is going to blow up on my way to school and I’m going to die. She tells me I won’t, that I’ll be fine, Sister drove the car back from Whistler and she didn’t die. I explain that Sister drove on the car’s final legs, saving the death for me. Sister’s good at sharing like that. I inform Mom that if I do die, I will haunt her because my death will be her fault. Mom, calms me down from my hypochondriac (except, it’s not the illnesses trying to kill me, it’s the world) panic attack so I’m free to drive to school with a relatively calm mind. (I say relatively because I’m always thinking about how the worlds trying to kill me...).

Here is the text conversation that followed forty minutes later.

Mom: Are you safe and sound?

Me: Definetely not. I went up in a great ball of fire. It was very painful. My ghost shall now haunt you forever.

Mom: Your cell is amazing to survive a call(car) me(on) fire. You must be a strong ghost to be able to text.

Me: Yeah. Death isn’t as bad as it seems. I guess, My cell, like me, has moved to the other side. But since I died with vengeance on my mind I was granted a tool to haunt you with. See? It’s all about balance. At least you know I don’t have to take my chemistry test! Oh shoot! We never got batteries!!! Ahhhhh. I’m so glad I’m dead right now. [The batteries were for my scientific calculator]

Mom: Oh crap. At least you have your phone! Being a ghost didn’t ruin your humour. That is good.

This was one of my mom’s better texting days. Usually there are many, many spelling mistakes. She says T9 is out to get her. I think, she’s crazy.

I have to get it somewhere.

Isn't text messaging grand?