In retrospect, it's rather amusing to think that when I first sat down to write this blog entry last Saturday, I dreaded writing a glowing yet ordinary description of my first week here at Cornell Summer College. I suppose that is why I'm looking at the incident that happened earlier today as something more than a humiliating disaster: writing material! Sometimes, real life works far better than your imagination ever could.

Anyway, here is my real life story. I woke up this morning at about 8 o'clock with a strong urge to use the bathroom. Figuring I wouldn't be gone more than two minutes, I grabbed my keys and washcloth, slipped on my flip-flops and headed out the room, locking the door behind me. Since my class starts considerably later than most of the other students, the trip to the bathroom was uneventful; I hardly saw a soul. It wasn't until I got into the bathroom stall that I ran into some problems.

What happened next I attribute to 2 qualities of mine: I'm clumsy and most definitely not a morning person. Seconds after flushing the toilet, I stood up to grab my keys and washcloth. Apparently I didn't have a good enough grip on my keyring, because I barely felt the keys graze my fingertips before the keyring flew into the toilet bowl. Before I could process what was happening, the stream of rushing water swallowed my keyring down the drain.

As far as worst case scenarios, particuarly embarrassing ones, go, this incident takes the prize in my eyes. Picture this: I'm locked out of my room, where my wallet, phone, and everything else is safely inside. My roommate is gone. To top it all off, I've got nothing but a washcloth, semi-cute PJs, and a wild, poofy bedhead that would put Albert Einstein to shame.

So, what did I do?

I ran down the hall to my Residential Advisor's room and banged on her door like a madwoman. A disgruntled, rudely awakened college student listened to my frantic cries before explaining what I had to do. I ran back to the bathroom, attempted to wet and comb my hair with my hands, gave up and threw my curls into a messy ponytail. I bolted down the stairs, passing a bemused Parisan friend of mine and countless other students wondering what the heck I was doing running around in my PJs. I got to the student service center across the street to explain my problem and ask for the master key to my room. I earned the joy of explaining yes, I was locked out of my room and no, I couldn't get the real keys because I had flushed them down the toilet.

Needless to say, I should start every morning this way!