BrookeClay

Hi.

This blog and I have been through a lot together: graduate school, first jobs, second jobs, cross-country moves, third jobs, fourth jobs, funerals, an engagement, a marriage ... and a divorce. 

We've learned a lot, grown even more and we're still adventuring. 

Let's adventure together.

The Low Fuel Light Doesn't Lie

Last week I went on a work trip and left my favorite Hobo Clutch in Ardmore (that's roughly 107 miles south of my little urban casa). In the hobo was everything I needed to survive. You know, the basics: ID, money, debit card. To be fair, I didn't even know it was missing until Saturday. Yes, for two days my lovely hobo was MIA. (Speaking of Hobos, I have my eye on a this Mavis in leaf. You know, just in case your looking to get me something pretty.)

How did I know it was missing? Well, Saturday my lovely co-worker Shelley married love of her life.

After the wedding, Becki and I decided we should put our wedding clothes to good use at make our way to one of OKC's weirdest places, Groovys. Except, I didn't have an ID. Luckily, I still had my social security card, expired credit card and a health insurance card. I have no idea why they let me in.

(btw. how great was my dress from the clearance rack? Uhm. Win?)

Moving on.

Did you know they race camels? Well they do. And, because they do, I didn't make my way to Ardmore on Sunday.

Not until this past weekend did I find inconvenient that I never found time to bank some place other than my small-town, local to Stillwater bank. Read as: no card, no money. whoops.

However, on Monday I thought I would head to the farm. This has absolutely nothing to do with the homemade lasagna my mom had made. 

It went like this: Check fuel in car. Think to self: "I can probably make it." Find gas can in garage set aside for lawnmower... top off gas... just incase. Drive home. Take a nap. Eat Lasagna. Drive into town. run out of gas.

First thought: "Whoopsy Daisies." Second Thought: "This is pretty funny." Third thought: "Oh, Will and Tori get out of school in a few minutes!"

Even if I hadn't texted my brother, "SOS! Ran out of gas - save me from the locals!" he would have found me anyway. This is a small town, and there's only one way to cross the river.

Thanks little brother for saving me.

This is the look he gave me right after I said, "well, I thought I'd make it," and right before he said, "are you going to blog about this?"

Moral of the post: 1) the low fuel light doesn't lie. 2) don't lose important things like your wallet.

It's not hard... living urban.

Uhm, what is wrong with me?