Just wanted to say THANK YOU to every one who has visited the site and made comments. I am really enjoying this site so far and can't wait to share more fun stories with all of you.

As for last week's "WHAT WOULD JOLINA DO?" I ended up taking all of the food I had stolen and placing it between two plates. I, then, placed the plates between some campus mail envelopes I was holding (remember I was running some "errands.") When the Dean turned to look at me, I said "Oh, I thought the Infocus project was in here--my mistake." I don't think he saw the food smashed between my documents, but I am sure he wondered why I smelled like lunch meat as I passed by. Just a side note: don't eat cheese that had been sitting out for a while. I think karma got the best of me when that evening I had a slight stomach ache.

So...I am sure you all would like to know the "Winner" of last week's entries...
And I am going to chose....ALTHEA!
She wrote "If i had been in that position, i would've pretended that i was now working part-time for Catering, and grabbed the whole platter! Then, I would have scooted past him...not without offering him one last Greek olive, of course. =)"
My cousin--always thinking! The part-time catering thing = genius, only wish I would have thought of that.
You're "prize" is in the "mail."
So, now on to my latest "WHAT WOULD JOLINA DO" entry...

For those of you who know me well, you probably have heard me say that San Francisco is my
least favorite city in the world. Every time I say that people look extremely shocked, some (like Zandra)
even outraged. It is not the Bay Area that I dislike--I happen to love Berkeley and am
really pulling for those Golden State Warriors to light it up in the NBA, San Jose, Los Gatos--totally rock. It is the city of San Francisco itself that makes my blood boil and my skin crawl. Why do I have such as
reaction? Is it similar to my hatred for (non)funny man Ben Stiller? Well...even though
I have experienced many weird moments in this city, this one story stands out in my mind as
one of the most embarassing, and the most hilarious story I may ever tell.

You see, one evening during Freshman year of college a few friends and I decided to leave Stockton, CA and head to the big city of San Francisco. Dressed in a light blue party dresses and heels, my friend Katelin and I enjoyed a fun meal with our friends, Ben and Andy (one of the few times I have actually enjoyed myself within the San Francisco city limits). Since the restaurant we had chosen had a "50's Diner" theme
I was not hesitant to drink down a few glasses of authentic Cherry Coke straight from the fountain.
They were so tasty and refreshing, one more glass wouldn't hurt, right?

After dinner we headed back to the car to find another place in the city to hang out. No one
quite knew where we should go, and to be honest I didn't care where we ended up just as
long as the place had a bathroom. The once enjoyable cokes, soon became quite a burden on my
blatter. Katelin, too, was feeling the effects of her beverages. Andy, the driver of the
car, assured us that we would soon find a place to stop. However, the city of San Francisco
is riddled with one-way streets, angry drivers, and unclear signs. As if we were a lost raft
sailing through the rough current of the city, the car floated farther and farther away from
anything familiar. As if sucked onto a waterslide, our car was forced on to some type of on ramp that lead us on to the bay bridge. All this time I was holding my breathe, tightening my body, not wanting any "accidents' to occur. As, to not get too far from the city, we decided to take the "Treasure Island" exit.
Perhaps there we could stop and use the restroom? However, when we got out of the car, our hopes of discovering a hidden toilet treasure were soon shattered, when we came to find an abandoned parking lot. The island was dark and surrounded by a thick iron gate. Among our feet lay the skulls and bones of the brave women and men who came before us in search of a toilet, and failed to return to San Francisco to tell their tales of woe.

Just when all hope seemed to wash away, in the distance a clean, brilliant light streamed down upon
a vacant San Francisco tour bus. "Run for it!" yelled Katelin, as we stumbled toward the bus,
our party heels, feeling more like peg legs. Once aboard, we made our way to the back of the bus
where a toilet stall awaited us. But just as my body finally relaxed, the sound of voices speaking in Japanese
filled the bus and the engine began to rumble. My eyes were blinded by flashing bulbs of
Japanese brand cameras as I turned to face my audience.
WHAT WOULD YOU DO???
Would you run off the bus and find some other place to pee? Or, would you finish what you came to do?
Let me know what you think!
Find out what happens to Jolina in the next installment of "WHAT WOULD JOLINA DO?"