Me and the Phone

I'm not a phone person. I hate calling ppl i dont know, i hate calling ppl i kind of kno, maybe know, possibly met once. back in the days of super fun skool trips..aka LA and ny i had to call ppl and beg them 2 buy flowers, cookies, just give us all ur cash and we wont hurt u.. this is how the calls went:
me: ok here we go..dial number
ring ring ring ring..
me: please dont answer please dont answer please dont answer
ring ring ring...
me: eyes shut, shuckling like a rabbi, please dont answer please dont answer
finally the answering machine comes on and i get 2 leave a message. phew.

over the years various embarrassing things have occured when i called ppl..especially important ppl...and so i would have 2 psyche myself up and get super hyper and then i would call and they wouldnt b there..or its the wrong number..or they transfer me 2 the wrong place..

now u're probably wondering what happened that has caused me 2 share my fear of the fone..
i had 2 call the Bostoner Rebbe's son on friday. now let me tell u. that is some scary stuff. my dad had 2 tell me 100 times that it was his cell phone so there was no way ne1 else would answer. and then i had 2 practice what i was going 2 say 100 times. and then we realized that we had lost the number. so then i had 2 call some1 else 2 get the number and thankfully i got 2 leave a message bc it was good family friends and i never kno what 2 call them. neways really this experience was funnier than can be explained...really only ppl who have seen me spazz over making a fone call can understand. its like a process. and if its some1 for like a summer job or something i spend 30 minutes spazzing 2 my dad b4 i call...then i go and spazz 2 jenn..and then i jump up and down..and then i call.

ok now that i have officially written a "and then i found 20 bux" story..i feel the need 2 write something funny. um. ok! heres a good story:

The Story of the Comput (sorry mir i kno u already heard it)
First of all lets lay something straight..its comput..not kahmput or kimput or koomput..but Comput. u kno..the cooked dried fruit in that super sweet sauce...ok good.

So its the 3rd day of pesach yom tov..as in no clothes 2 wear..totally tired..and im running late 2 shul...but im starving so i grab the container of comput from the fridge and scoop some in2 a bowl. as i take the container to put it back in the fridge..i dont get a good grip so it falls STRAIGHT down. SLAM it hits the floor. POP off comes the lid and the comput SHOOTS up straight in2 my face. so then im screaming bc there is comput everywhere and its made w. lemon juice and its in my eyes and i cant see nething. my mom is freaking out bc its the 3rd day of yom tov and the kitchen is already a mess. and so im in the bathroom trying 2 get the comput off my shirt..out of my hair..off my face..my eyes..and finally im like UCH WHO CARES IM GOING 2 SHUL (bc please note i dont have nething else 2 wear) so im @ shul and i notice there is a huuuuge stain of comput on my skirt, but its kind of folded over the stain so i have 2 make sure it stays that way. and then i get home and my sister is like picking dried comput out of my hair ( i kno..too much info) neways yom tov is over and we're cleaning the kitchen when my dad looks up at the ceiling and starts CRACKING UP. there is comput ALL over the ceiling. not like one spot. there is comput splattered ALL over. so then of course a family debate starts over how exactly to get the comput off without ruining the paint..not that ne1 ever looks @ the ceiling so it doesnt really matter. but they didnt ask me. so finally after much debate my dad gets up on a chair and cleans the ceiling w. water. and its gone. and i think that the story is better when told in person..but im desperate here...