In my first year of University, one of my roommates had a hanging lamp, which she purchased from Ikea, displayed proudly in her room. It is important at this point in time, for the sake of the story, that I mention that the hanging lamp was made out of blue rice paper. Needless to say, it was a delicate lamp and it had been made clear to me on more than one occasion that I was never to touch it.
You all know where this story is going, of course I ended up breaking the hanging lamp. That hanging lamp was doomed the minute my roommate packed it up and brought it with her to University. Ultimately it was the finale of Super Bowl XXXVIII's pre-game show that would do it in.
Aerosmith was in the midst of playing their hearts out, and dancers were running around the field with beautiful dancing ribbons streaming after them. Moved by what was happening on screen, I picked up a plastic tape measure that was sitting on my roommate's side table and began to wave it in the air, imitating (with far less sophistication) the movements of the dancers on the TV.
"Wave that ribbon!" My roommate exclaimed, "you were born to do this!" And, for a minute, I believed her. I believed her right up until I heard the metal end of that plastic tape measure puncture the paper body of her hanging lamp.
I stopped abruptly, the tape measure falling to my side, closed my eyes and prepared myself for the painful death that I was sure would follow. When death did no immediately find me, I slowly opened up one eye and glanced cautiously towards where my roommate was sitting.
As I had expected, tears were streaming down her face - however, much to my surprise, they seemed to be the result of laughter rather than sadness/a burning desire to kill me. I was even more surprised at what she said next: "Don't you stop, Megan." She cried, "don't you ever stop waving that ribbon."
"But I just ruined your lamp," I said, in disbelief.
"Forget that," she shouted, "just wave. You wave that ribbon, Megan."
And so, deciding not to question her, I once more waved that plastic tape measure high above my head. I waved that plastic tape measure with everything I was and everything I had in me, all the while making fervent promises to replace the hanging lamp that had fallen victim to my new career.
In spite of numerous man hours spent in Ikea, diligently searching for a replacement, I have only very recently been able to locate another hanging lamp. While relating the entire story over the Internet may not be the best way to keep it a surprise, I am now finally able to make good on my promise to replace the lamp that I/Aerosmith broke.
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