I’ve never won anything before. No. Seriously. The only thing I’ve ever really won, is board games. And those don’t count. I’ve never gotten a prize, or won an auction. I have the worst luck of anyone I’ve ever known.
When I played softball in middle school during the summer, my team went 0-14. Well, that’s a lie. We did win one game, but we had to forfeit because half the team didn’t show up because it was “too hot”. Seriously. I live in Pittsburgh. It barely reaches 90 degrees in the summer. Go figure.
So, when my phone beeped this morning(or afternoon…whatever. I was up late watching the Australian Open. Go Cilic!!!), I looked to see a twitter update. Jackpot. I was just going to delete it…but I’m SO stoked I didn’t. I look to see that it was 2 texts long, and it turned out that I had won a contest! Cue excited/embarassing squee-ing. (I’m not one to squee.) I had retweeted that I took a survey a week or so ago, not expecting anything to come from it. I am incredibly negative when it comes to my lack of luck. (And I’m a quarter Irish…i should be seriously lucky, damn it!)
After much excitedness, I follow the directions of the DM and call the given number. Dude on the phone seemed incredibly happy for me…or he was laughing at how excited I was about a fricking Pens Prize Pack. I highly doubt it’s the autographed stick I entered to win, but still, anything is good with me. Happy dude on the phone tells me my present (I won’t say “prize”, I’ll say present. I like presents) will be sent out within the next couple days. (I’m hoping I get it this weekend since I’ll be at home and not school.)
When I hang up with happy dude, I immediately call my mom. Now, I love my mom. She’s one of my favorite people on Earth. She’s one of my best friends. She’s also a huge pain in my ass. She likes to keep my head out of the clouds. So I’m all excited about winning something, and she goes “Well, it’s probably just a stupid calendar or something.” Seriously?! I promptly said “Yo, Debbie Downer, stop raining on my parade.” Mumsy promptly apologized and tried to make it up to me.
“Oh! What if it’s Kris Letang?! You know, if he came to the door, I’d probably keep him for myself and never let you near him.” Ummm…gross. And if Kris Letang was in my house, TRUST ME, Mum, you’d never get to see him. Cause you know what? Letang is French for The Tang. And everyone likes Tang with their breakfast. (Heeee-yellow!)
So now I patiently (or not so patiently, whatev) wait for this “Prize Pack” that may or may not include an autographed Kris Letang stick. I know, right?! Here’s hoping its fabulous!