Skateboarding

I have always liked skateboarding.  Heaps of my friends in middle school and high school skated... and my interest has continued to grow over the years.  If I were to go on the MTV show 'Made', I would definitely want to be made into a skateboarder... that or a hockey player.  I just think it's super cool to watch and I genuinely think pro skateboarders have some mad talent.  And I have always been really intrigued by how exactly people get the skateboard to work... and sort of stick to their feet... it's just nuts. 

However, I have always been too scared to actually try it out.

Well, the other day, I decided to finally take the plunge.

After I got back from a run (I am currently training for a 10k race), I noticed my 9 year old neighbor skateboarding in the driveway with a couple of his friends.  I asked them how it was going... and then proceeded to awkwardly (naturally) ask them if I could join.  They immediately started laughing.  I then spent the next 3-4 minutes trying to convince three nine year olds that they should let me try... "I am a quick learner", "I used to dance so I have good balance!", "I've always wanted to learn", "I know how to surf", etc...  FINALLY, my neighbor, Scott, handed me his board. 

He helped me get on an balance, but when he let go and I started to move, I jumped off.  They all told me to get back on and try again... so I did.  It started moving again and I felt pretty confident... for about one second... and then I freaked out... and FACE PLANTED. 

After this, you'd think I learned my lesson... but no.  I tried skateboarding with them for about ten more minutes.  I finally could stand (with getting help balancing) and roll quite a ways without falling or jumping off.  Next, after accomplishing this, was trying to scoot myself down the driveway and get on the board without anyone helping me.  I started going and going and then FACE PLANT #2.

In between the boys' hysterical laughter, I told them I'd have to come back another day.

Oh geez. 

Theme Party... and What NOT to Say...

Before I went on holiday to Australia, I went to an 80's aerobics theme party for a friend's birthday.  Her and her husband go to ReChurch and are super into themed parties, which is great because it has been a really great way to connect with people that they work with and are friends with outside the Christian circle.  I have gotten to know them pretty well over the past few months I have been in NZ and so when they invited me to the party, I was so pumped.  I love theme parties.

Well, someone at the party was wearing what Americans would call a 'fanny pack'... see below:

Well, don't ever tell any Kiwi, especially a male Kiwi, that you really really like their fanny pack.  'Fanny' to Kiwi's means 'vagina'...

You can tell how confused I was when I was getting crazy looks from the guy at the party and how embarrassed I was when I was corrected by an American that has been living in NZ for quite some time... I need to watch what I say...

Glass Door

By the title of this new post, I can bet you anything you know what bethism act most likely transpired...

Naturally, because of the earthquake, a lot of shops and stores had a lot of damage done to them.  I was at one of the malls one afternoon around the busy lunchtime hour.  I had finished what I needed to get inside and was headed back to the car park with my host family.  As I was passing by Border's, I noticed a lot of work being done on the inside.  I was extremely intrigued.  I continued walking as I watched worker fixing the glass, re-wiring different sections of the store, and pulling up carpet.  Amidst being so transfixed with the remodeling and cleaning up of Border's, I failed to really watch where I was walking.

My lack of attention to my walking path led me straight into a glass partition/door of the neighboring coffee shop where numerous people were out dining for lunch.  I am talking SMACK into the glass partition.  I had to almost catch myself.  I paused, realizing what had just happened, and I looked through the partition at the people staring at me.  Everyone, even those across the road, turned to look at me and started snickering.  I, of course, turned bright red and started walking super fast to catch up with my host family who were way in front of me. 

I need to pay way more attention when I am walking.

If This Ever Happens to Me, I will DIE.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Unicorns are Silly.

Sometimes, you just meet the most interesting people...

It's no mystery by now that I am awkward...

... I mean, why else would I have created this blog?

However, my life also highly demonstrates my potential of getting into awkward situations and meeting other awkward people in very interesting ways.  Here's more proof of this:

I ride the bus everyday to and from the office.  As I was waiting for my bus to arrive yesterday, this guy walked up the the stop and stood directly behind me.  Pretty weird in general, because anything behind you is a blind spot.  I kind of glanced around and then turned back to face the street again.  Another minute passed and he moved up right next to me.  "I wish there was at least one bloody cloud in the sky," he said without really looking at me.  I just did my awkward pity laugh that I do when I don't know anything else to say.  Then I remembered, oh yeah, Kiwis LOVE to talk about the weather (fact... they do... probably because it literally changes DRASTICALLY each day... not kidding)... so I decided to just keep talking about the weather.  About how hot it was on that particular day, how rainy it was the day before, and how I am glad I am not back in the States where Chicago seems to keep getting blasted with all the crazy snowstorms.  He started asking me all sorts of questions about America:  What are the people like, job opportunities, cities, the party scenes... etc... I then asked him where he was from, and at this point, this kid just starts RANTING and spilling his guts to me.  Telling me how much he didn't get along with his family, how he moves every couple of months just because he is bored, how he has no interest in finding a job because he has government benefit money to hold him over for awhile, and about the new flat he found for $110 a week.

At that moment, I was pretty excited when my bus showed up.  But as soon as I stood up, he stood up with me and continued talking, I realized that this must have been his bus as well.  Once I got on the bus, he kind of paused from talking.  No one was really on the bus - PLENTY of open seats around me - and he comes over to me and says, "This seat taken?" And sat right now next to me.  I thought to myself, 'Alright, just 15 more minutes and you're all good.'  Our conversation on the bus?  Him asking me, "OKAY, guess how old I am? I bet you can't get it right... Everyone thinks I am a lot younger than I look."  To me, this guy looked about 30, but going off of what he said, I replied, "Hmmm... 23? 24?"  He just starts laughing, "NO! I am 19!"  WHAT?! No way... maybe like 10 years ago... So I decided to test him as well since 'how old are you?' is one of the most common questions people ask me.  He thought I was 16.  Big surprise there.  Then he started talking about how he smokes and chews tobacco (hence one reason he might look so old) and then we started debating on why someone should or should not smoke.

I was extremely relieved when I saw my stop in the distance.  I asked him where he was headed (since my stop is one of the last few on the route) and he responded, "Oh, no where really... I have nothing really to do until my mate picks me back up at the mall later..." Soooooo he just decided to ride the bus with me because he was bored? Alrighttttttt kind of creepy, but whatever. Needless to say, I got off the bus rather quickly...

I found out his name was Ryan... so I may or may not be seeing him around... he DOES know my bus stop, so I wouldn't be surprised after THIS encounter...

Metro Mega Fall

Since I am too scared to drive on the left side of the street (and too cheap to get a car for 6 months), my choice of transportation is the Metro bus.  I have notice a DRASTIC difference between the public transportation system here in ChristChurch versus that of Omaha or even Chicago... It is SUPER nice.  Really really clean and almost everyone takes it.  It's pretty cool, actually.

So, I was on my way to work this morning, and it was my official first day of taking the bus all by myself so I could get used to the system.  I was really excited, because I got on my right line at the right time and I arrived at my stop.  NO PROBLEMS.  I was so proud.

Then came the matter of getting OFF the bus.  Rule here is:  People get off the bus first and then let everyone else at the stop on.  Well, I was toward the front of the bus so that basically meant I was the first one responsible for getting off.  I stand up, walk off... and TOTALLY underestimated how far the footpath (sidewalk) was from the bus... and ate it.  And of course, the bud stop was totally full of people trying to get on and a lot of people on the bus waiting to get off because it is a really popular stop.

Luckily, people in NZ are way nicer than people in the states and a couple people helped me up.  I brushed off and after thanking people, I walked quickly to the office.

Just because I am on the opposite side of the world doesn't mean that my awkwardness didn't follow me here...

Step 1: Be Aware of the Culture You Are In...

Making mistakes, especially in terms of social culture, are extremely common when you move to a foreign place... However, I think I underestimated how different American and Kiwi culture really is... you wouldn't think so, but by my example, you've been warned...

1. Within 10 minutes of landing in NZ, I already went to the wrong side of the car when trying to get into the front seat.  Even now, I still walk to the wrong side almost EVERY time.  All the staff at ReChurch are trying to convince me to learn to drive, but I am afraid I will kill someone.  If I can't even WALK to the ride side of the car, how am I supposed to drive (let alone TURN) on the correct side of the road. 

2.  I need to remember to first look right and then left when crossing the street.  Also, pedestrians DO NOT have the right-of-way unless they are at a designated cross walk.  Even in parking lots. With just these things in mind, I have almost died numerous times.

3.   I asked for sugar in my tea and coffee… which is apparently a very british thing to do... NOT KIWI.  I got weird looks and felt really self-conscious.  I will have to learn to like my tea and coffee with no sugar.  They have tea time here... A LOT.

4. Being fluent in English barely helps here.  With a combination of their slang and the accent and how fast they all speak, I can barely understand the things people are saying to me.  I find myself saying, "Pardon?" a WHOLE lot.

5. BBQ's here are VERY different than BBQ's in the States.  Yes, it is a time to hang out and grill, but these people love their food... like they eat 6 meals a day basically (shoot, my efforts to lose weight are NOT going to be fostered in this environment...).  When someone asks you to a BBQ at their house, do NOT assume that they have everything covered for you just because they don't TELL you to bring things to eat or share with the group.  EVERYONE brings their own food to BBQ's in NZ... the only thing the host provides for the guests are the drinks.  Thankfully, at my first BBQ, where I had to learn this lesson the hard way, someone gave me half of their grilled chicken so I had something to eat at dinner.  I will not make that mistake again.

6. I am taking public transportation while I am in NZ so I have been trying to learn the bus schedule.  Well, the first time I tried to take the bus, I missed it because I got the time wrong (details details).  Determined not to make this mistake again, I went early to the bus stop to await my bus.  When my bus approached, I walked to the curb... and my bus flew past me.  WHAT?! Well, apparently you have to wave down the bus in order for it to stop to pick you up.  Shoot.

7. They eat cheese, butter, and mayo on EVERYTHING.  I hate all three of those things.  The first sandwich my host mom made for me? Butter, cheese, and Ham.  I took the cheese off and gave it to my host brother but I ate the butter and ham.  I can definitely say from that experience, I will definitely be packing my own lunches.

8. 'The Hobbit' was holding auditions a week and a half before I arrived in ChristChurch.  Now, it was kind of a half serious, but long standing joke back in the states that I should totally try out for a part!  Well, I was going to try and tell this story to all my coworkers at ReChurch, but before I had the chance, one person looks at me and says, in front of the entire group, "Do you know you'd make the perfect hobbit?"  I am glad everyone is already getting an accurate impression of me.

9. People walk around barefoot all the time here.  It's my kind of place. However, it really grosses me out walking through the mall and seeing people with superrrrrrr dirty feet trying on the same shoes you were trying on.  Sorry, no thanks. I won't go that far.

10. Coffee here isn't just coffee.  There are millions of kinds.  I didn't know what kind to get, because looking at the vast array of choices on the menu caused me more stress than I liked, so I asked for just a large plain coffee... in NZ, no such thing... instead? "We have long black, short blacks, flat whites, and fluffies..." ....What?

Different cultures are so wonderful and I am so grateful to be getting this experience.  But culture shock is for sure hitting me in certain areas... WAY more than I anticipated coming to a country I figured would be pretty similar to the U.S.. Stick with me over the next six months... it's gonna be good.

30 hours.

Welcome to the first (of many I'm sure) "Bethisms: NZ Edition" blog post.  Going to a new country brings many interesting experiences... moving to one for six months can cause even MORE interesting (or in my case, awkward) experiences.  30 hours doesn't seem to be that long of time.  In fact, it's really not that long. However, for me, loads of Bethisms can occur... Here are the awkward moments I had in the first 30 hours of my departure to NZ:

1. Waiting to board my plane from Chicago to L.A.? I was on the phone with my sister Jackie, I started WEEPING, and the younger guy sitting next to me moved a couple of rows away.  Obviously crying made him very uncomfortable.  Then I ended up sitting next to him on the plane... seriously... what were the chances?! He did not make ANY type of conversation with me on the entire flight.

2. My flight to Aukland was LONG to say the least... and naturally, I would be sitted next to an extremely obnoxious couple.  THANKFULLY I was in an aisle seat so I could get up and move whenever I wanted (13 hours is a LONG flight), but still.  They were super touchy-feely (and I HATE PDA) and tickling each other the first 45 minutes of the flight.  The woman had the giggle of Fran Drescher meets Peter Griffin from 'Family Guy.'  They were also telling inside jokes over and over and OVER again... I finally got to the point that I decided to stop reading and put my head phones on.  The guy looked at me because I was pretty much blaring my music.  I looked back at him and clearly turned my iPod volume up even more.  I am normally not this sassy with strangers, but I could not stand it anymore.  Another annoying thing? Every time I had JUST fallen asleep, he decided he needed to get up and go to the bathroom.  I took his mint from his dinner plate... oops.

3.  Customs in Auckland... Well, first of all, carrying all my luggage without a cart/trolley was hilarious enough. Going through customs?  They made me open up my bags and they searched my shoes... mainly my rain boots.  "Have these been used or are they new?" "Um, they are used..." "We normally take boots like these away because they carry coil and seeds..." "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think it would be a big deal.  They look pretty clean to me, though."  "Next time, it will be a $400 fine." "Oh, okay, thank you..."  Close one... good thing I look like I am 16 and probably made them feel bad for me. 

4. The bathrooms in NZ freak me out and confuse me.  First of all, the toilets are all like mini toilets... seriously, they are way smaller than American toilets... and, instead of just having a button to push to flush, the one's in the Auckland airport had four buttons.  It took me like one full minute to even figure out how to fully flush the toilet.  The huge line of women waiting waiting probably thought I was crazy.... especially since there was only one stall and there was NO way they didn't know it was me trying to figure it all out.

5. After I arrived in ChristChurch and were leaving the airport, I almost got hit by a car (look right and THEN left) and also walked to the wrong side of the car to get in the passenger seat.  My host family just laughed at me... at least they are getting a dose of my awkwardness from the get-go... there shouldn't be too many surprises from now on...

I will make sure to keep you updated with more and more Bethisms over the next six months! 

Kentucky Fried EVERYTHING.

I am in Louisville, Kentucky taking a class about cross-cultural missions in preparation for my internship in New Zealand... WHY they chose KENTUCKY as the location for this particular class is beyond me.  I know a couple people from back home and in Omaha who actually really like Kentucky... and before I came here, I just made fun of it based on stereotypes and just to make those people mad.  However, now that I am here I realize that... I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG.

Here are some HILARIOUS things I have encountered while I have been in KY... some awkward, most just ridiculous and super stereotypical:

- I asked one guy, who is a native Kentuckian, about what his favorite food was.  His response? "Fried Chicken or anything from Cracker Barrel."  I thought he was kidding and was waiting for him to crack a big smile.  I was ready to laugh and say, "Wow, you are actually pretty cool for making fun of your state a little!" But none of that happened... he WASN'T kidding. Awesome.
- Kentucky accents are just horrendous.  Really, they are... I don't care what anyone says. Weird twang.
- I could see how it might be pretty in the summertime or fall when all the leave in the countryside are changing, but the cities are super hick and gross... like one strip mall I saw had Burger King, McDonald's, Wendy's, AND another burger joint... okay now, watch your cholesterol.
- Apparently, the number one killer of babies is child abuse... They probably feed them bbq ribs and fried chicken for every meal and their poor little bodies can't handle it.
- They drink sweet tea for almost every meal... at least the Kentuckians in my class do...
- I have heard too many "Oh My Lanta!"'s this week already and we are only on day three of five.  I might freak out the next time I hear it.
- I got chewed out for pronouncing the city wrong.  Okay people, don't spell 'Louisville' that way if it's not supposed to be pronounced that way.



I adore the class I am taking and love everything I am learning, but there is a reason why Louisville is a "well kept secret"... no one ACTUALLY wants to go there.

It's All Amanda's Fault...

I don't know what it is, but it seems that whenever I am around my sisters, especially Amanda, my awkwardness flares up more than normal... Take today for example:

- Amanda and I went to the mall to go to a really cute paper/stationary store. We were trying to find a parking space in the lot but were having no luck. I was getting frustrated with missing spots and dumb drivers. At one point, I was pulling out of one particular lot, and I was stopped because a big cement truck was stopped right in front of me and needed to back up. I made my frustration very obvious... and then I notice a construction worker staring at me. He gives me a hand gesture and look that basically says, "Okay girl, calm down. We'll out of your way in just a second." Once the cement truck moved, he looked me in the eye and gave me the motion to go. I am embarrassed my frustration was obviously noticed...

- Amanda, Elliot, and I went bowling. There were a bunch of people at the alley and both lanes next to us were occupied. I was getting confused about which bowling balls were ours or the couples' next to us. It was my turn to bowl, so I went up trying to pick out which ball was mine. As I was moving the different bowling balls around to get mine, the guy next to us came up trying to get to him and his girlfriend's bowling balls. I felt bad that I was in his way and moving around their stuff... so this apparently was my natural response, "Oh, I'm sorry for moving your balls around!..." He just looks at me and I could just feel the blood flood to my face. I need to just apologize and not say anything next time.

- Tripped pretty badly in front of a huge crowd of people as we were leaving a restaurant after dinner. Now I trip a lot, but I just hate doing it in front of huge crowds because then, after everyone sees me trip, I feel like they talk and laugh about it for the next five or ten minutes... plus recalling it later in the night for a few giggles.


I am normally not this awkward in one single day, so I am blaming Amanda's presence.

Winter is WonderFALL.

I have an issue with balance. And clumsiness. And falling. And awkwardnesss in general.

From reading my past blog posts, this should come as no surprise.

Here are a few events that have transpired over the past week... I hope you find them entertaining, because looking back at them, I do...

1. This one does not have to deal with my clumsiness but more so with how attracted creepy men are (or seem to be) to me. I don't know what it is, seriously... I also don't mean to sound conceited... but I feel like whenever there is kind of a creeper at either a party or in a class, they are drawn to me. Unfortunate, really... maybe I'm too nice? Nah, that can't be it. Well, there is this man in my printmaking class. I don't know exactly how old he is, but I am guessing maybe in his early thirties... well, a few years ago, he was actually in my art fundamentals class. He yelled at me one time for looking at his drawing (while he was drawing...) Hmmm, yeah. I try really hard not to judge people... and I do my absolute best not to be rude or short with obnoxious individuals... but it is REALLY difficult not to just be completely annoyed and freaked out by this guy. Every day in class, he asks me about my most recent facebook status. Now, I know that by putting it up on Facebook, I should be expecting people to see it, but it is just weird when I post something that says, "I have the greatest friends" or "I'm thankful for mashed potatoes" and he asks/tells me, "Who are your friends? What did they do to make you think they are so great?" or "I like stuffing more than mashed potatoes..." Sometimes it takes me a minute to realize he was stalking me on Facebook. Let's just say, he is not my "friend" anymore. He is also one of the most proper speakers ever... He could be asking something as simple as, "why did you decide to draw an old man?" and it comes out like this: "Beth, may I ask you something? Where and how did you acquire the concept of etching the elderly male for this upcoming project?" I am all about proper English, but I am also all about understanding exactly what you are saying as soon as you say it. I find myself either asking him to repeat his questions or having to pause a second to think about exactly what he is asking me. Another side note, he is like 6'5'', almost 300 pounds, bald, with old man glasses. Okay... Sorry, tangent, I just had to describe him. So this was the situation that transpired between me and this man last week:

J: Beth, what, may I ask, is the exact date you will be graduating?
Me: The 18th.
J: Please forgive me because I know you have already disclosed this information, but what field are you studying?
Me: Art and Education... remember? I just had that gallery opening?
J: So what do you plan on doing with those two areas in future years? They seem to be very separate and distinct from one another.
Me: I want to teach art.
J: I imagine you will not be financially stable with teaching, am I correct?
Me: I know many people who are teachers and doing just fine.
J: I can't imagine teaching is especially rewarding. Do you think an art background causes you downfall?
Me: Why would it cause me downfall if I am teaching art?
J: Because it is not a financially stable career path either.
Me: ... Not entirely true, but whatever.

and at the end of class...

J: Beth, may I ask you your plans for this upcoming weekend?
Me: Not sure yet... packing and studying probably.
J: Well, would you be interested in joining me for an evening of dinner and wine?
Me: Ummm, no thank you.

Truth. He asked me on a date (and wine?) after telling me that I basically chose a sucky, financially-insecure career path... Of course I said no. My friend who sits next to me in class almost burst out laughing since he was witness to this entire situation. Awkward? VERY.

2. I decided to go to the Creighton basketball game on Thursday with some really good girl friends of mine that I just haven't seen in awhile due to our busy schedules. Well, Saturday (in case you weren't in Omaha) was just a ridiculous day of weather... SUPER windy, SUPER cold, and SUPER snowy. We had to park in a far away lot at the Quest Center... and because of the weather, we all SPRINTED once we got out of the car. Well, about halfway from the car to the door, I trip as I am crossing the road because I didn't see the curb. I FACEPLANTED and slid in snow in the middle of the road we were crossing. Me friends? They made sure no cars were coming and and kept on running. Yep... clumsy me. My jeans were damp for the rest of the game...

3. On Sunday, I went to the grocery store to pick up some food for my annual ugly sweater Christmas party I have with friends from Church. Well, because it had snowed the day before, the parking lot was just filled with that gross gray slush.

Gross Gray Slush + Shoes with no traction = FALL

Yep, I slipped and landed straight on my back in the nasty slush. People around me came running up to make sure I was okay... it was all silent worries and then I heard it... a four year old DYING of laughter as to what I just did. Best thing about it? I went right inside and got my groceries... I balanced on the cart on my way out.

Single and Ready to Mingle

I am single. True. But, believe it or not (this is a major nudge to my family), it is not the end of the world. I am okay with being single... OH MY GOSH, I am happy being single?! WHAT? How is that possible?! Well, it is. Get over it.

Unfortunately, I feel like this fact about my personal life is frequently brought to my attention by my loved ones (cough cough family cough). I have come to terms with the fact that I am not dating anyone. I haven't seriously dated someone in a long time. I know the people in my life don't seriously MEAN to bring up my "independence" on numerous occasions, and at this point, it kind of has been a long standing joke rather than a serious nudge for me to find a man and settle down, but just being honest, sometimes it gets obnoxious... and awkward...

So here is the most recent story:

Back in March, my sisters and I got professional photos taken. We were planning on compiling them in some sort of matter and then giving those photos to my parents for their anniversary (this past September). Well, Jackie was kind of in charge of the whole thing and thought it would be cool to make a photo book for them. I completely agreed! We decided to give them the photo book at my art show when the entire family was together. We gave the book to Denny and Gail (insert the swooning over it)... So glad they liked it! But here's the kicker: Yes, we looked good in those photos, TRUTH... but Jackie, being the creator of this photo book online, was given the opportunity to write her own little copyright notice in the book... here is what it read:

"All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied or reproduced. Why? Because I said so. So don't copy it. Plus, copying it means that you want to stare at the Cavender girls more. Why else would you want to copy it? I mean, sure, they're cute, but isn't that creepy to make a copy of something in order to just stare at pictures of people? If you must copy it, then copy it so you can look at Beth. She's single and ready to mingle. Amanda and Jackie are taken."

Nice. Glad that this will be a part of that book FOREVER. You might as well write "Dog Lady 4Eva" (I hate cats).

Am I being dramatic? Probably. Is this copyright notice awkward... No doubt. Thanks, family.

Fatty McFatFat

Not being down on myself or super self-conscious, but I know I am not the smallest or skinniest person ever. It’s just the fact of life… I have curves. As Jessie Bennie would say, “Beth, you’re just a regular-sized little person”. True.

Well, the other day, I was at Walmart just picking up a couple things. I went to the checkout line, and the guy ringing me up was kind of weird and was just trying to make super friendly conversation. I, trying to be nice, responded to his questions and comments about my purchases. Well, a girl behind me in line started talking about how cold she was. The cashier turned to her and said, “You’re cold?!” She responded, “Yeah, well, I have like no body fat so I get cold really easily.” He turned to me and said, “Well at least she isn’t super bony… I mean, I can’t imagine how cold YOU must be! You’re SUPER bony… Ha, just kidding…”

I think he just called me fat.

Really? Did that just happen? My response was silence… I gave him an evil glare and just grabbed my things and left.

Next time something like that happens, I am knocking all the gum and candy down before I leave. That’ll show 'em.

Rebel with a Cause.

I wish I had more time to blog... but because I have now taken (almost) permanent residence in the art studio so I could work on the pieces for my show (in 25 days... AH), I have not had much time to blog about my life on my other blog or about my awkward moments on this blog... but nonetheless, I have had some very awkward moments since my last post.

So, now I am presenting to you on my small break from art making, TWO awkward moments. Enjoy. This is quite a treat... for both me and hopefully you.

Well, like I said, I have taken ALMOST permanent residence in my art studio, which is on campus in the art building. Well, I spend a TON of time there. I try to get there between 7 am and 9 am most mornings and I try to stay for at least 6 hours. Some days, I am literally there for 12 hours. Well, one Friday night, I was really focused and didn't want to leave. I had been in the studio since 10 am at it was already about 11 pm when I decided I was going to stay for a few more hours. It never occurred to me that this might be a problem... I figured, "Well, you have to have an ID card to even get into this studio, I'm not bothering anyone or being loud, staying till the middle of the night will not be a big deal." 11:50 rolled around and in walked public safety... this is what happened next:

PS: The building closes in ten minutes. You'll need to pack up your things and head out before then.

Me: Um, I am actually a BFA student and I have an art show next month, I am here all alone just working on my project. Would it be okay if I stayed a little bit longer?

PS: No, sorry, you'll have to leave. School policy.

Me: Seriously?

PS: Yep. (turns around and walks out)

On normal circumstances, I would spend a couple more minutes working on my art, clean-up, then leave like a good, compliant girl. I was NOT feeling compliant... and I was very annoyed he disturbed me in the middle of painting and was making me leave. I decided to stay... but how?

I hid. Yep... I turned off the lights in my studio, took my computer into the bathroom right next door, and stayed in there for 20-25 minutes looking up the national geographic pictures of the day and reading PostSecret entries. By the time I walked out of the bathroom, the building was officially closed... I was in the clear!

I went back into my art studio and went back to work... but I obviously forgot about the HUGE windows in the studio (without curtains). At 1:20, I hear the studio door open again... and in walked the same public safety officer that gave me my warning... this is how THAT conversation went:

PS: I told you an hour and a half ago that you needed to leave.

Me: I know, I am really sorry, but I have so much work to do and I am really not bothering anyone.

PS: It's school policy... It's MY job to make sure nothing shady is going on.

Me: Nothing shady is going on. I am just painting by myself... not smoking in the bathrooms, stealing materials, or destroying property. I know there are a lot of other things going on on campus that are way more serious than me being in this studio.

PS: I don't appreciate your tone... do you know I could report you to student integrity for insubordination? Pack up your things NOW.

I rolled my eyes... I know, I know, I shouldn't have... but what happened after this? He physically ESCORTED me OUT of the building, watched me get into my car, and drive off. What a PUNK. The one time I feel I had a legitimate cause to break rules, I get escorted by public safety and threatened with a visit to student integrity... dumb.

Second story? Not as good... BUT awkward nonetheless. I just finished my shopping at Baker's (a grocery store here in Omaha), and after I loaded everything into my car, I looked to my left... at the back corner of the parking lot, I saw a man and a woman loading a grocery cart into their van. Yep... an entire grocery cart. I could not help but watch them. After about 15 seconds or so, they stopped, looked over at me, and I immediately felt awkward (this was a sketchy Baker's...), got into my car, and drove off... right past them... and they STARED me down. I made sure they didn't follow me home. Why would someone want a grocery cart? Hmm...

Sprinklers.

I had a horrible day yesterday... really, just horrendous. That's a completely different story though. But for background sake, I was on campus in the art building from 8am until 10:30 pm. I love art, but this was not my idea of a fun time, but whatever.

Outside the art building, there is this little field/lawn area right next to the street where I parked. Now, there is a sidewalk that goes around the entire field to the street, but it takes you way out of your way. When I normally park on the street, I just cut across the field and walk on the grass. No biggie. A little bit of a shortcut. Well, after last night, I may rethink taking this shortcut...

When I left, like I said before, it was 10:30 pm and super dark out. I walked outside and began walking through the lawn to my car while simultaneously texting. Well, as soon as I was a little less than halfway across the lawn, all the automatic sprinklers in the grass come up and turn on. I am SURROUNDED by sprinklers at this point and just getting soaked. I just ran and tried getting to my car as fast as I could. My bag, all my papers, my clothes, but luckily not my phone, were drenched. Best part of me getting caught in the sprinklers? Public safety rode by on their bikes and just laughed at me.

Wow... first week of school and I am already making a fool of myself. Awesome.

Yet another retail adventure...

As most of you know, especially due to the mass numbers of blogs I have written about my current employer, I work in retail. I have discovered that working in retail is SO much more than just selling clothes and accessories... it means you have to deal with some of the weirdest people on the face of the planet. I have to deal with stupid questions, awkward comments, and embarrassing situations at least three days a week. LUCKY ME. Here are a few of my most recent encounters with some of the shoppers...

1. An older man came in with his two, YOUNG, female escorts and allotted them each $1500 to spend. Together, they spent $700. Now, If I was a female escort and obviously did not care about this man or how I was perceived, I would have spent EVERY LAST PENNY of my $1500 share... but I'm just saying.

2. I helped yet another older couple pick out lingerie. I never know what to do when this happens... I for sure blush, I know that. I just got really awkward because they weren't really using the best language or the most appropriate terms when discussing the lingerie, it's fit, the purpose, etc... you get what I'm trying to say. But without going into too much detail, the husband dropped over $300 on his wife... I am one darn good salesperson.

3. Chubby Little kid: "Ummmm... do, ummm, do you, ummm bathroom, um, have a bathrooooom?!" By the end, he was basically screaming. Sorry to tell you kid, but we don't... and it's not polite to scream at people.

4. A regular shopper, let's call her Leslie, called the other day... and I was the lucky one to answer. She asks for one of our managers who wasn't there... "That's okay, YOU can help me, Ah hahahahahaha!" She starts naming off all these things she is looking for: different items, designers, and companies. "Just set them aside for me! Pick out what you think will look good!" I had no idea what she looked like. "I'm a mom though though... and you know, things kind of shift and sag. Hahahahaha!" Ew. Way too much information. "I also get hot flashes so nothing too heavy, hahaha!" Wow, she laughed a lot... actually it was more like a cackle. After about ten minutes on the phone with her, we finally hung up and I began my search for the mom-like, anti-hot flash clothing in size I have no clue. I picked out about twenty different items and she stopped in about an hour later to try them on. First of all, I guess this woman used to be a model, so in her heels, she was about 6'2''... WAY shorter than me. Good thing I grabbed mediums and larges. The entire time she was trying things on, she would just be laughing all by herself and making beyond random comments. At one point, she came out to ask my opinion on a top, and she looks me dead in the eye and says, "Hey, do you have any drinks in the back? Would you mind running over next door to M's pub and grabbing me a cocktail? You know, long day with the kids, hahahaha!" I had no idea if she was serious or not... I didn't get her one though. She ended up dropping a significant amount of money, but she was one of the craziest and spastic people I have ever met in my entire life... with the craziest cackle.

5. What a mom said to me when I was helping her and her daughter find a homecoming dress: "These are all so cute! How are we supposed to choose? What are you wearing to homecoming?" She was looking straight at me for my response... yep, once again I was mistaken for a teenager... "Oh, I am actually 22." "Oh, I'm sorry! Well, good news is that if you wanted to crash a homecoming, no one would notice!" Strangest compliment I have gotten in a long time.

Winking.

Here's a little fun fact about Beth Cavender:

She feels really awkward when people wink at her. She gets all flustered and tends to blush really bad... especially when boys do it. Don't know why, it just happens. It reminds her of creepy men who have dirty minds.

If you wink at her, she will get awkward.

Why Parents Drink

This is an amazing hilarious, and beyond awkward, email I received from my oldest sister. I normally HATE forwards, but I was really intrigued by the title, "Why Parents Drink". Sounded funny. So I read on.

After reading this, I thought, "OH MY GOSH. HOW BRILLIANT!?" I really wanted to do something similar to my family (mainly my dad or mom) after, but then I realized that my sister sent it to them too. I am plotting for something in the future. Let me know if you have any great ideas for me!

Why Parents Drink A father passing by his son's bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then he saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to 'Dad.' With the worst premonition he opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter. Dear Dad: It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Mom and you. I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice. But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercing, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it' s not only the passion...Dad she's pregnant. Stacy said that we will be very happy. She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children. Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone. We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy. In the meantime we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it. Don't worry Dad. I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren. Love, Your Son John PS. Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at Tommy's house. I Just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than a Report card That's in my center desk drawer. I love you. Call me when it's safe to come home

Indie Athleticism

It might not come as a big surprise to most when I say that I am sort of the “philosophical” type… slightly pensive, artistic, and introspective. Most would assume that I would rather read a book, listen to my weird, indie music, or paint a picture than anything else. Those people would also assume that because of this, I have no athletic ability. That my boyfriend jeans, band t-shirts, and thick-framed glasses would get in the way. That my Toms shoes might not let me run as fast as I would like. That I might fall (very likely) and injure my right hand, making art an impossible task. That I would cry my emo tears and write a deep, meaningful song on my acoustic guitar about my depression and sense of “lostness” in this vast, empty world.

Well… you are not 100% correct. I don’t play the guitar.

Ha, I’m kidding.

But seriously.

I actually love sports. I am actually pretty competitive and pretty decent once I get into whatever I am playing. There are of course some sports I enjoy more than others, but I will honestly never turn down the opportunity to watch a game/match on TV or in person. Even in regards to playing sports, I will play mostly anything… unless it’s basketball. I honestly really suck at basketball. However, my past might not be the best showing of my athleticism but rather support the stereotype that most have of me. And thus, another BETHISM is born.

My parents signed me up for a bunch of sports when I was younger. Following in the footsteps of my sisters, I played soccer, softball, and I was a swimmer. I legitimately think I had ADHD. I was so hyperactive, outgoing, and had a really hard time concentrating. I remember my soccer coach telling me one day before a game that he wanted me to focus more… so he made me goalie. Well, in my opinion, if a kid is hyperactive and has a hard time staying still and concentrating, you should be running them on the field as much as possible. Yeah, life would have agreed too. I was a HORRIBLE goalie. I chased butterflies just to keep moving. Same with softball… awesome pitcher and shortstop, but the minute you put me in the outfield, I drew pictures in the sand. Swimming? I think I was just too short for it… I lasted until 5^th grade with softball and 7^th grade with soccer. Oh, and don’t let me forget to tell you about the time my dad gave me too many lemon drops before a soccer game and some girl kicked the ball right at my stomach and I threw up everywhere. Truth.

Oh, and I did gymnastics… for a year… and then I accidentally peed my pants on the trampoline and was too embarrassed to go back. And no, this was not when I was a teenager.

I also a danced for 11 years. Ballet, jazz, and hip-hop mostly. This was really where I should have stayed.

Picture this: Gym class in 8^th grade. We are playing kickball. I really didn’t want to play. Not because I didn’t like kickball but more so because I didn’t like a few of my team members. Yep, super mature, I know. I went to play outfield. Well, the people on the other team really sucked and were just bunting and tripping over the huge kickball inning after inning. I was so bored and really annoyed so I basically just stopped paying attention and began to space out. I don’t know how long I spaced out for, but the next thing I knew, I just heard, “Watch out!” I looked up and all I saw falling down from the sky was that large red orb, that demon kickball. Yep, it hit me right in the face. Me? I fell to the ground… right along with that kickball.

After the mile run, a boy threw up on my shoe. How people throw up after running one mile just boggles me.

Another incident? Tennis. Okay, tennis is really the one sport I really don’t enjoy at all. I hate watching it AND playing it. But naturally, gym teachers love forcing you to play games and sports you hate doing… so, in gym we played tennis. Well, as I was walking to the court I was assigned to, I accidentally walked right in front of the machine that shoots out the tennis balls. I got hit right in the back and fell down. This seems to be a theme. Yeah, obviously 8^th grade wasn’t my best year.

Instead of quitting swimming all together, I decided to start diving when I was in 8^th grade. I remember my high school diving team experience like it was yesterday… running laps and laps around the track, doing bleacher exercises, countless lunges, and practicing dive after dive after dive until I got it perfectly. I was so beat up after pre-training that I had bruises running from my Achilles’ tendon up to my lower back from hitting the water. This wasn’t just me, but everyone on my team. My English teacher has suspicions of child abuse at my home so she referred me to the guidance counselor. Unfortunately, I had to break the news that it was not my mom or my dad but rather my diving coach and that gosh-forsaken pool. Not only did I have bruises but I dislocated 7 fingers, both of my ankles, and I cracked my head open… all from hitting the board. My “favorite” memory? Practicing 2 ½’s. Only one other girl could do this on the team and she was phenomenal. My coach was a crazy person, and whenever someone hit the water wrong, started crying, or said they didn’t want to do a dive anymore, he would, inevitably, make us do it again. So, when I did my two and a half and hit the water harder than I ever had before… on my FACE… I started crying. He walked over to me, looks straight at me and asks, “You wanna do that again?” I, in between sobs, stammer out, “y… ye… yesssss.” He just started laughing and didn’t make me do it again. Yes became my routine answer after this trick had work.

Even in intramurals throughout high school and college, my athleticism did not seem to be quite up to par. Like the time I was thrown out of my flag football game freshman year at Creighton, when someone tackled me in ultimate frisbee and pulled my pants down with them as they fell to the ground. Or the time I ran into a giant electrical box chasing after one of those fireworks that shoots out a parachute.

I love sports… but sometimes, especially during these times of proven Bethisms, it might just be better to proclaim that I am just your average, indoor, artsy type.