Definitely Definitive.

(* I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier Part II can be expected next Monday)
I'm drinking wine and watching MTV.

I drink wine almost every night so this isn't big news, the watching of the MTV doesn't happen so much. MTV just ran a particularly lame commercial encouraging its viewers (like me) to define themselves. I found this idea intriguing.

I couldn't think of anything witty or intelligent to say but I do have a story from Monday that might assist in the definition....Definitely.

In which I concuss myself.

Sooooo. Monday was a fun day, people. Fuuuunnnnn Daaaay.

I don't have class until 12:45 every day. Yea, I have such a tough life...I know. Anyway, I got in the shower around 10ish and was in the process of getting the shampoo out of my hair when the doorbell rang. My mother looooves to drop by unannounced and if my car is outside and I do not answer the door, she will break it down. I'm kind of attached to my door, it's a good door....the paint is wearing off and the knob squeaks a little but it gets the job done. I do not want my door broken down. I bolted out of the shower, dripping wet, and ran to the door.

My mother was not at the door.

A Jehovah's Witness was. There I stood, dripping wet, mortified and partially covered with a towel while my feet could. not. move. We are talking paralyzing horror here, people. I feel bad for all of the years of yelling at girls in horror movies...yes, too bad no one yelled "DON'T JUST STAND THERE YOU STUPID BITCH, RUN!"

As you can imagine, the guy at the door was equally freaked out and our conversation went a little like this:

Me: Moth--oh. Um, I thought you were my Mother.... but you aren't.
JW: No, I'm Bill. You are, um,....you were just in the shower?
Me:Yes, yes I was.
JW: Well (trying desperately hard not to look at me in the face)I just wanted to share the teachings of the Bible with you.
Me: Oh, that is nice of you but I have a Bible, its right over there...see? OK, so I kinda need to go and put some clothes on and I'd rather do that in private.
JW: Um, yea...see here's the thing, I have a quota (*what the fuck? this guy actually expected me to stand in my doorway with a towel barely covering my ass just so he could meet his quota? WRONG-O)to meet today and it would be really helpful if you'd just listen for a minute.
Me: Dude, usually I would never be this assertive but I-AM-NAKED.
JW:Yea, I see your point. Well at least take this pamphlet?
Me: Fine, thanks, goodbye.

I bet you thought that was the end of the story didn't you? You would be wrong.

The guy leaves and my phone starts to ring, but my cell is in the bathroom. During my little chat with Bill, the shower curtain was carelessly left open and my tile floor was being hosed down. Guess what happened next. I ran to the bathroom. I slipped in the bathroom. I banged my head so hard on the floor in the bathroom that I saw little stars and birdies. My eyes welled up with tears and I reached up and grabbed the phone of the counter.

Me:(choking back tears from the pain, oh, the pain!) hello?
Mom: what's wrong? Why are you crying? Where are you? Are you dead?
Me: No Mother, I just answered the door naked and now I'm laying on the floor in my bathroom with a concussion.
(*I realized later that there were a few key words that should have been left out of this sentence. They include: door, naked, floor and concussion.)
Mom:....I'm coming over now. CLICK.
Me: fuck.

By the time my Mother arrived, I was dressed and holding a bag of ice on the back of my poor hurt little noggin. It took roughly thirty five minutes to convince her that, YES! I AM responsible enough to live by myself and I PROMISE I will never answer the door again. Even if I'm fully clothed.