farmhouses whose doors don't even have locks.

So I had a little run-in today. No, not with a student, not with a teacher. But with an alarm system. My host family has a security system for their house which they thoroughly explained to me. This afternoon, as I pulled into the driveway, I expected--like yesterday afternoon--to be the first home and have to turn off the alarm.

 However, what I did not expect, was for the garage doors to be secured. So as I pulled in (thanking my host family for the wonderful car they're letting me borrow) I heard the alarm beep. But this was not the normal beep. This was high-pitched, panicked beeping that said: I'm about to wake the neighbors with an ear piercing siren.

At this point, I started to get a little nervous, but I quickly pulled in, and turned off the car. Here's where the real problem starts: this garage is full. I know in Oregon we keep our garages pretty full of junk, but this one is full of stuff and they still expect to park three cars in it. So as I push open my door it hits a filing cabinet and stops after about four inches. Not nearly enough room for me to escape. For a moment I think about climbing over the console and getting out the passenger side, but who knows how much room is on that side.

So I shut the door, turn the ignition and drove forward until I touched the ladder and mattress in front of me. Then the siren starts. And all I can think of is the LAPD showing up with guns drawn. 

I didn't even pause for air, but opened the door (now free of obnoxious filing cabinets), sprinted across the other two stalls, squeezed around another car in order to reach the alarm keypad and punched in the code. One more frightening second. The siren stopped. Thank goodness. I thanked God and my hosts for giving me a number that I could easily remember. I shuffled back to my still-open car door, sat down and started breathing. 

I think my hands have finally stopped shaking.

I think I may be ready to go back to cornfields.