1) I was nearly killed by an elevator.
In January of this year, I had my first phobia-inducing incident in an elevator. Actually, I already had an elevator phobia and so when given the choice between stairs and an elevator I almost always opt to take stairs. I was working in a tall building in the West Chase area of Houston for an oil and gas company. My cubicle was on the first floor. The free daily lunch that was provided was in the canteen – on the 13th floor. Lucky number 13! I had just grabbed a free salad for lunch from the canteen and got in an elevator by myself to go back down to the first floor to eat my lunch. I pushed the button for the lobby and nothing happened. So I pushed it again. The elevator must have decided to take the express route because it descended so quickly that when it hit the first floor, it HIT the first floor. I was nearly knocked off my feet. Then the doors didn’t open. I stood there in shock for a few seconds then started punching the open doors button like a mad person. It took several tries before the doors finally opened. I lurched off the elevator and went directly to the lobby security man and told him that an elevator just tried to kill me. After several other people in the building reported some of the same type of incidents in some of the other elevators, they called the elevator maintenance company and it was determined that the elevators needed calibrating. You think? At least no one was seriously hurt and I got some free chiropractor adjustments out of the traumatic event. In a strange way, I feel somewhat validated that I’ve always had an elevator phobia.
2) I had my first Latin Lover (aka: The Hot Tamale).
I’ve been single for a very long time – about 16 years now. I’ve dated men of color. But I’d never dated a Latino man before, until I moved to Texas. I wasn’t avoiding them, it just never presented itself. I won’t go into the gory details, but just like a bright comet or shooting star streaking across the night sky, the relationship started out hot and bright and then suddenly disappeared leaving nothing behind but ashes. I don’t regret a thing.
3) I had my first skin cancer removed.
Being very fair-skinned like my father’s side of the family, I knew it was inevitable that I would eventually get skin cancer. I had many, many sunburns growing up on the west coast of Florida and spent a lot of time at the beach because it was free entertainment. The beaches on the west coast of Florida (at least in the Sarasota/Bradenton area where we lived) were gorgeous. The sand was white and fine like sifted flour. The water was always warm as bathwater. Good times. But I digress. I had a very small skin cancer, which was in the early stages, removed from my right shin, and a much larger, deeper one removed from my left shoulder. The one on my shoulder required seven stitches on the outside and several on the inside. The dermatologist had good news, though. This was not the “bad” skin cancer. I found out there are much worse types of skin cancer than what I had, which was basal-cell carcinoma. Mine was very treatable, and caught in the early stages. The moral of this story is: wear sunscreen!
4) I was laid-off in Texas for the first time.
I’d been working for nearly a year at an oil and gas company (another first but I started that job in 2013 so I can’t make that a 2014 first), and I loved it there. I enjoyed the work (writing Standard Operating Procedures for several different teams), I enjoyed the people, I had the best boss I’d ever had (great sense of humor, supportive, left me to do my work, I could go on and on), and the commute was a dream at 8 miles from home. I had even asked them to convert me to an employee! Things were going great. Until it all turned to shit.
They (HQ in Copenhagen) pulled the plug on a large project that had cost them a lot of money and so they decided it was time to lay a bunch of people off who’d been supporting the project. They laid-off most of the Subject Matter Experts who I’d been working with to document the SOPs. All of my projects were put on hold. I knew things weren’t looking good. About three weeks later I was told I was going to be laid off but they were giving me six weeks to find another job. Wow! As a contractor, I was astounded that they were giving me six week’s notice. I asked everyone and anyone who were left in the company if they needed any documentation done. All work had dried up. Sadly, I had to leave. The good news — it took less than a week to find another job. The bad news — I accepted a job working on a mosquito-infested Bayou. It paid really well and sounded interesting. I’ll explain more about that job in a future post because as they say, the Devil is in the details.
5) I visited my first indoor gun range.
I mentioned in a previous post (Texans are like snowflakes) that I finally went to an indoor gun range. I’d been thinking about it for a while and decided to stop by one on my way home from work one Friday. After telling Hunter (Ha! How appropriate!), the guy behind the counter, that I’d never done this before and I had no idea which gun to select, he pointed me to a 9mm Glock. Hunter also said he would provide me with a gun safety class before I actually shot it. Thank goodness for common sense.
I was really, really, really nervous but also very excited about shooting a hand gun for the first time. Hunter took me into a room where the gun safety classes were conducted. I sat down on the opposite side of the table from him and he showed me how to load the clip. I felt like a small child who was trying to tie her shoes for the first time. I was all thumbs. I was surprised at how difficult it was. Hunter was very patient with me and he didn’t laugh at me so I assumed he’d seen others who had fumbled through this part of the class before. I eventually managed to load the clip (and didn’t even break a nail) and finished the quick safety class so I could now move on to the “main part of the show.” He gave me a pair of safety glasses and a set of earmuffs to prevent damage to my hearing, and I was allowed to pick my own target. He set me up on the indoor range right next to someone who was shooting something really loud (Duh! All guns are loud). I don’t know what it was, but every time the guy next to me shot his weapon, I would nearly jump out of my skin. I kept nearly jumping out of my skin when the guy next to me fired his weapon, so Hunter moved me to a different stall further away. What a relief!
Hunter was still with me until I felt comfortable enough to shoot the gun on my own. Finally, I became comfortable enough to shoot solo. The first few times I shot the gun I was terrified. The gun was a bit too big for my hands so my hands got sore very quickly from the recoil. Also, my fingers got sore from reloading the gun clip. It only took five bullets at a time so I had to reload several times. After shooting the entire box of ammo, I was exhausted from the adrenaline that had being coursing through my body as soon as I walked into the place. Time for a margarita to wind down!
The gun range was packed by the time I left that day. Apparently, indoor gun ranges are all the rage. I admit, it was fun and I’ll probably do it again.
Goodbye 2014. You were exciting and boring and as usual, I learned a lot throughout the year. Thanks for the memories.
