Sunday, February 28, 2010

True Conversion

Truly a testimony is to KNOW; but true conversion is to DO.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Funeral Plans

When stats kills me, I hope that you all will be able to attend my funeral. I am planning for it to be a simple affair. Please play loud music and have a dance in my honor. I want balloons instead of flowers - particularly in bright colors: reds, oranges and yellows. And if you don't want to do that, then I would just recommend setting up a little fund for my parents so they can go on a cruise or something nice. I used to think I had life insurance that they could use, but that is no longer the case.

If you must buy a casket, make sure it is the cheapest one from WalMart.com. Otherwise, a sheet or flimsy plywood box will do nicely. And it doesn't really matter where you put it - I mean bury it - Troy, OH or Shelby County, KY will work. I don't really want to be left in Provo if I don't have to be. If anyone is willing to bury me in an ancient graveyard in Scotland or somewhere in Britain, I'd be happy there too.

My loss will be devastating to most of you - but really, I do not want to be a sad affair. Tears should only be shed because you are laughing. After all, dying because of stats is somewhat humorous. And watching people cry makes me sad.

This may seem a little dramatic to you: but even if/when I do pass stats, I will literally die of shock. Oh, the irony! Seems to me stats is destined to beat me, no matter what.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Aztec Anscestors Wrote the Book of Mormon

The title comes from the most creative sign/poster I saw at the BYU basketball game last night. We were playing the San Diego State Aztecs... and we pretty much crushed them. Which considering our Church ball-like strategy of playing, I was shocked. It was probably the ugliest college game I've ever watched. No one seemed to have control of the ball. Every time we ran the ball down the court - there was no setting up for plays, it was just fast break after fast break. And shooting - from where ever you were whenever you got the ball. Trust me, there were a lot more misses than there were points. BYU also was not very good about rebounding and they missed a lot of easy lay-ups. I'm still astounded that we won, actually.

Other observations from the game:

The man in front of me smelled. I don't know what it is about older people. I know bones get achy, and your muscles atrophy because you only eat circus peanuts, nuts and doughnuts. And you sit in front of the TV or whatever... but really? That's no excuse not to shower. Every time this guy lifted his hat to scratch his head - which was frequently - the smell only doubled and I couldn't help but think that if he had showered, he probably wouldn't itch so bad. The seats in the Marriott Center are pretty close together and so whenever he moved, he would brush against my leg. By the end of the game, or rather the time I finally couldn't take it anymore and moved my seat, I was ready for a chemical shower at the hospital and had a horrible headache.

Brainwashing at BYU starts young. I knew this, of course, one only has to look at my friend Meghan's nephew to know. (He's, what, two? and can practically sing the BYU fight song and definitely say GO COUGARS! and has all the gear...) Kids are EVERYWHERE at the basketball game. And usually accompanied by their very pregnant mothers. Which got me thinking - what do you think is the percentage of women at BYU who go into labor while at a BYU sporting event? I bet it happens more than we think.

When BYU scores 80 points, one of the local restaurants gives away free chocolate cake. BYU was ahead of the Aztecs for the whole game and so while we knew we would win, a lot of people (especially the teenage boys a few rows above us) were interested in making sure we would all get that cake. They were shouting "We want cake!" for the final two minutes of the game...because BYU was stuck on 79 points. They could have easily remained that way until the clock ran out. Luckily for all of us, they scored one more basket in the final 45 seconds. Exciting!

Finally. Texting a blog post is not such a good idea. Turns out that when you type 990 characters and then scroll up to make sure you have the right picture attached, it's just not worth it when you LOSE everything. It takes a long time to type a little under 1000 characters.

So for my first - and probably last - BYU basketball game of my school career, the game was fun. Thanks, Keith for the tickets!

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

I didn't realize I could do this but I can text myself blog stuff from my phone! I'll probably forget. Or maybe it will save me from forgetting post ideas.

The Sound of Water

I hit the snooze button a lot... and usually I go directly back into a fairly deep sleep. But this morning, I only went back to sleep. I could still hear water running through pipes because my apartment has walls that are only a little thicker than paper. The thing is, I don't know whether the water was coming from the washer which is on the other side of the east wall or the kitchen sink (which isn't close to my bedroom at all, but still manages to be ridiculously loud) or either of the shower or from the people above me and THEIR washer or their sinks or their showers or the apartments to the north of me and THEIR WASHERS OR SINKS OR SHOWERS or the apartment below me...

The point is, I felt like I was surrounded by the sound of rushing water. And if at any moment the pipes were to burst, I think I would be swimming out of my room and onto 820 North, where I oh-so-stupidly decided to move. Why?

The joys of BYU housing.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Oh how I hate you...

Every time  think I am getting a good groove on this whole Stats thing, I take a quiz or a test and get 8/21 or 67% or something awful - and I want to quit.

Really?

WHY can't this come more naturally to me? (And why does this keyboard suck? I have to type about 15 wpm instead of the 90 wpm I'm used to in order for all the buttons to go down.) Even when I am motivated to get this stupid class done and I'm trying...I still FAIL.

I hate failing. I would rather quit than fail. Better to have quit while you were ahead than fail. But that isn't an option. WHY ISN'T THAT AN OPTION?

I am a big believer in giving credit for effort, and Stats doesn't do that. Not that I would get many points for effort considering my extreme lack of over the past few...well, years. But still. I feel like there should be some evidence of the fact that I am trying to learn this crap. And yet, my quizzes are showing less of an improvement.

Side note: I hate probability. I am fairly certain it is the area that I always get tripped up in, and about the time I have always given this class up or fallen extremely behind. It is awful. I am not a gambler, and I don't want to know what my odds of the ball falling on the black 46. I don't care if we survey 2849789 people and 2870 of them do something then the probability of.....................................................

Sorry, I just died thinking about that. I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE.

SO I AM trying to get this done as fast as I possibly can. I have better things to do with my time. But why oh why can't I catch a break?

Rant over.

(See, DeeAura, I throw tantrums too...)

Monday, February 22, 2010

Money....or the lack thereof

I wonder what it would be like to live a life where you never wanted for anything. There are people out there like that... it must be odd. What would you complain about? What would you talk about if you could just go out and purchase anything your heart desires / needs?

In a twenty minute conversation I have realized that everything I want / need right now is SUPER expensive. Like such as:

  1. A new car. My car continues to break and do weird things. I think I can drag it out, but that might require putting more money into it. Which is not helpful at all. Andrew, my cousin, is convinced he could "find me something nice" that is reasonably priced. 
  2. A new computer. Mine is old. Running out of room. And not compatible with any wireless that I encounter. It's really a pain. Especially since having no internet means leaving the house in order to file taxes, do stats and anything else that might mean something in my life right now. I don't like to leave the house anymore. It's cold outside. So because I don't have internet in my new apartment set up, I haven't been doing much of anything. I'd also like to set up Photoshop (which is also a pricey addition) and buy a nice monitor to go with it.
  3. Trip to Europe. Yup. I'm going to Europe. And soon. This is the priority. I will let you know when I purchase my ticket.
Now, how am I supposed to afford all of that? Because when you look at the money coming in versus the money going out, you will see that there really isn't much to set aside. Even if I did not eat out 52876 times a week and I actually paid attention to how much gas I put into my car as well.... there still wouldn't be enough.

So I guess I could get a second job and donate plasma. Or actually finish stats and start applying to new jobs that pay more (Noooooooooooooo..... I won't do it! I love this job!) . Why can't my book just be published and sending me little checks in the mail? Oh, I remember.... never mind.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Over and Over Again

Have you ever looked at something so often that you can't stand to look at it anymore? Some people think that turning over their work to someone after they have invested so much time and effort into something is a cop out or somehow takes away from the integrity of the work.

But I don't see it that way.

If I could take this novel that I've written and give it to someone who would take it and shape and mold it into something better, I'd let them. I'm so done with it. I feel like I've read every passage over 100x. The clever and witty things that I thought were in there have disappeared. Not because I've changed it - but because I've read them so many times they have ceased to be clever and witty.

I would love it if someone would comb through and find the parts that aren't necessary (the parts that make them roll their eyes) and cut them out. There are too many things that now make me roll my eyes, but I refuse to rewrite anything else until I know exactly what I'm just sick of and what actually needs to go. I don't want to put it on the shelf for another year, but then again, if I have to read the whole thing another time, I might just delete it.

That's not the sign of a good piece of work. But then again, I never claimed it was a piece of literary brilliance. So now I'm torn. It is too big an accomplishment to scrap it. Too big of a nuisance to keep working on it. And too big of a disappointment if I just were to give up.

But since you haven't read it 100x, I am adding another excerpt, just for the fun of it:


One day, George burst in the kitchen where the ladies were preparing the evening meal. Myra, worried about his over-excited state, made him sit on a small stool and drink a whole glass of water before he related his news.
He’d just returned from New York, and though he had not told his family, McKay knew through Ashton that George had gone to ask for Miss Stanford’s hand in marriage.
Since she was sure of the news, she continued to knead the dough that would be their evening rolls.
“I’ve just come from New York,” he explained taking another gulp of water from the refilled glass his mother offered him. “There were…rumors going around town through some of the least reputable parts of town.”
“What?” Myra asked, looking nervously at McKay and then back to her son.
She seemed to be worried about whether or not her daughter and her niece should be hearing such goings on, but she did not dismiss them.
“You mean you didn’t go to the Stanford’s?” McKay asked, feeling her own confusion.
George looked at her and blinked, “Oh, well…yes, I did. But…”
“George!” Susanna cried with delight. “She said ‘yes’ didn’t she? And her father gave his permission?”
“Of course, she did,” George stuttered. “But…”
“Oh, darling!” Myra clapped her hands and hugged her son around his neck.
Susanna kissed him on the cheek in congratulations.
During all the commotion, McKay watched her cousin carefully. He was still flustered, and there was more to his story than the proposal. They had all known it was coming. He would have just slipped that information in at the dinner table, not come bounding in the room like a madman.
Just then, Homer supported Ashton into the kitchen and the celebration stopped as they looked at the bruised and bloodied man.
He had obviously been in another fight, and McKay could see the beginnings of some nice bruises on his face.
Homer placed him on a stool next to George, and Ashton winced as he bent his midsection. Broken ribs, McKay identified immediately. She would know them anywhere, having seen them on the ranch.
“What have you done to yourself?” She demanded as she came around the counter, wetting a towel in the water boiling over the fireplace.
He looked at her and grinned sheepishly, but then slumped back in the chair closing his eyes. Susanna screamed, thinking he had passed out, and Myra escorted her out of the room before coming back with a sewing kit. The cut above his eye would need stitches.
“Really, Ashton,” McKay said as she surveyed him. He definitely had two broken ribs. The cut above his eye was bleeding; he was bruised from head to midsection.
“I hope the other guy looks worse than you do,” she pushed on a dark bruise and he grimaced.
“I wouldn’t know. They kicked me out before I had a good look,” groaning again from the pressure McKay applied elsewhere.
“Are you going to explain to me what happened?” She took the needle that Myra had placed in the boiling water, stitching after Myra had cleaned the wound.
“No.”
“George?”
“Um…” George looked to his friend, but relented. “As I said, there were some rumors going on about McKay in some of the less reputable places in town. We know it was Lowell, spreading them around to some of the gi…er, some of his associates,” he corrected.
It was McKay’s turn to wince.
“Anyway,” George continued. “We had just stopped in… and overheard an argument. Ashton went to check it out and there was Lowell, still looking mighty green from that punch, McKay,” he added with a proud nod towards his cousin. “Talking about his latest… anyway, the man that Lowell was talking to was not pleased with the information Lowell was providing. A brawl started out immediately, and Ashton got in the middle of it somehow.”
“And how in the hell did you get in the middle of it?” McKay demanded. “They weren’t talking to you.”
“McKay!” Myra scolded.
She ignored her aunt.
“Of course they weren’t, but they were talking about you,” George defended his friend. “Besides, the blonde chap was talking about how you were his in a real jealous manner. I’ve never even seen the man; I doubt very much you’ve had a fellow calling on you the likes such as him.”
“Blonde fellow?” McKay repeated. Could it be? “Did you catch his name?”
George only shook his head.
Ashton sat quietly while she finished stitching and bandaging him up. She had removed his shirt by this time, bandaging his ribs. He watched her carefully, and McKay felt almost self-conscious with the way he was gazing at her through slits in his eyes. One was almost completely swollen. Her thoughts turned to the night when she had gone to check on his stitches. He had asked her to kiss away his fever. She wondered if he would ask her to kiss away his bruised ribs. Obviously, ribs took weeks to heal. And yet, she wouldn’t mind trying. She pushed the traitorous thoughts from her head. He had promised not to kiss her, and had kept that promise.
Though, it seemed the longer they went without the kissing, the more tension there was between them.
Only the night before, they had run into each other walking down to get a midnight glass of water. McKay had been overly modest in her dress, careful not to be caught indecently again, but he had walked around in nothing but his under drawers. The muscles in his sculpted chest had been defined in the moonlight as he had handed her the freshly filled glass. She had recently cut his hair for him, but his evening shadow had given him the look of a hard working cowboy. McKay couldn’t believe that he had been raised in the city as a businessman.
She had wanted to touch him, so badly. And when he had leaned in to flick a small mosquito from her neck, she thought he would kiss her and she held her breath in anticipation. But he did not. She had been disappointed, and reminded of his promise.
Only, he had said that she could use him anytime she wanted to. But she could not do that to him. It wasn’t fair. How could she use him for her own physical gratification, and then turn around and leave him?
In her distracted state, McKay bumped a particularly tender bruise and Ashton caught her arm and pulled her away from him.
“Are you done sticking me like a pin cushion?” He asked in his rough voice. She had not heard him sound so harsh for sometime. Since the Lowells he had been nothing but overly gentle and cautious.
“Yes, I suppose,” she answered testily. “Why don’t you take better care of yourself, so I don’t have to stitch you up every danged day? Who’s going to take care of you when I’m gone?”
He glared at her, and she glared back .Something was definitely off between them. Yesterday they had been friends. Today, they were bitter ex-lovers.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Further Comments on the Poll

I think Aubrey said it best:

Every woman wants to be thrown up against the wall  - but like everything it has to be done right.

Because every woman wants to be kissed, but not by a slobbering idiot.

(emphasis added)

Valentine's Day

Also, did anyone remember that it was Valentine's Day yesterday?

I think I had mostly forgotten. After all, the pointless day* landed on a Sunday anyway, so if you were worried about that, then you celebrated on Friday (like I did) or Saturday (like I avoided everyone else doing) and then completely forgot about the fact that there were people celebrating...

*You're wondering why I call it pointless? Well, I've jumped on the band wagon that the majority of men have jumped on that claim that it is a commercialized day that is made up to make people buy things / women to torment and schmooze gifts out of their boyfriends. If it were meant to be a day to celebrate your love - why do you need a day to do it? Why can't you celebrate your love everyday? Shouldn't you shower your loved one with gifts and chocs and sweets and most importantly "I love yous" without a day on the calendar to remind you? And besides, don't you think that the stuffed animals, ugly red hearts filled with cheap chocolate and the ugly shades of reds, pinks and purples (all gay colors, mind you...) are a little tacky? I certainly do. And that isn't just because I've never had a boyfriend on Valentine's day. Don't mistake me...if some future significant other spends money on any of the aforementioned items - I'd probably kill him.

So you're wondering why and how I celebrated after that little tirade? Well - I went a-mocking "Single Awareness Day" by dressing up in my very best sweats, ugly tie-dyed t-shirt, but my hair in the highest pony tail I could manage and snuck a pint (?) of pistachio ice cream into the theater so I could watch Valentine's Day with some of my best girlfriends. The movie was mediocre, and I don't ever recommend anyone eating THAT much ice cream in one sitting (it will probably make you sick...). But it was still REALLY fun.

Still, all of this being said, I still managed to walk away from Valentine's Day with a non-lousy box of chocolates. One would say they were down right tasty... in fact, more than one person did say they were amazing because I shared with A LOT of people and they all thought they were magnificent. And homemade by this guy.

 
 Thanks, William.
 

The Poll: Is it better against a wall?

By "it" I guess I have to clarify as: a kiss, kissing... not actually................ ANYWAY.



This is when statistics could be considered "fun." (I know. I know. My fingers are bleeding because I typed that. In fact, I'm feeling light-headed. I might puke. Must...go...on...despite the hypocrisy. The irony. Oh sick....) A question was posed to over 50 people today asking the following: "Being pushed against the wall while making out - is it good or bad?"

It seemed the majority of the girls I polled had only two answers: "Good!" or "Good! as long as it isn't too rough."
The guys had a bit more varied opinion on the matter.

Out of the 41 people that responded, only 8 (4 girls and 4 boys) replied in some form or another that being pushed against the wall was negative. I know that 3 of the 9 have never experienced it - and to them I say, don't knock it until you try it. OK? The rest had a myriad of answers that I didn't know how to interpret:

"[It's] dangerous. You could bump your head and get a concussion and then not remember making out. Very bad. Unless your partner is disgusting. Then it's good. But also dangerous."

"Bad...kind of shady because it is too aggressive. Save it for the romance novels."

"...No. I think it could be a good way to get some mace in the face and be jailed in disgrace."

"Um. Slightly creepy. Is he on roids?"

And then of course the whole... "It's too controlling..." Which, I don't like that answer, but it was a favorite among most of the other NOs.

However, the rest of the group liked the fact that the guy was taking control, showing a little aggression or the general...excitement of the whole thing. And a few people added the whole, "It depends..." note. Depending on the type of wall, how rough the actual shove was and even how passionate the kiss.

My favorite response to the pros: "Good. Best when it comes from a guy you never thought would." Either that or, "So so good."

Now, the chart that I created to display this data actually happens to be what we are studying in Stats right now, but of course, that just means that I don't know what to do with it.

 
It's a double bivariate table or something - two categorical data categories (if you are vomiting while reading me spat stats out like this, don't worry - so am I.)

So class, what does this teach us? The whole poll started because I seemed to be outnumbered. The two people that were arguing with me were very against the whole thing and I knew that if I took it to the masses, we would have the majority.

I can't remember a time before I knew that I liked it. There's always been something a little thrilling and exciting about the whole idea. For a long time I had nothing to go on besides MLM books and movies where actors are in the throes of passion and it is a little too much. I had a roommate who went over to ex-boyfriend's house and didn't end up leaving until a lot later than planned because he decided to take control of the situation. And we decided that it probably wasn't a great idea for her to go over there again.

There's just something GOOD about being thrown against the wall. Even MLM says so, "Shelli! Oh, my heck! I'm TOTALLY for "pushed up against a wall" kissing! Totally..."

And who could possible dispute that? Poll closed.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Must've Done Something Good

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment.

I am sitting in my office (off the clock now, of course) and it is late. I had to pick up a few proposals that are due tomorrow, ones that I am pretty proud of because I helped - a little bit - with some of the verbiage and a couple of the pages. When I called to let Peggy know that I was leaving the printers and that they would be in the office, she told me to make sure I got the envelope taped to my monitor.

I was driving, so I didn't really think much about it until I hung up the phone. And then I had to wonder. What was in the envelope? A termination letter? That was the first thought to go through my mind. Not that I think I deserve to be terminated, but just because that is my luck with jobs recently. Was there something that was work-related? Did she want to invite me to a tupperware party? Quite possibly, a thank you note?

I need to go back to the termination letter. You see, I have a hard time with getting into work. Once I'm here, I'm great. I think I get along with the guys OK, and Kevin keeps telling me that I'm doing a good job. He likes the way I write. I stay until the job is done. But I've had some close calls, where they are wondering where I am (even if I am running errands FOR work - I hate if they have to call me and ask where I am...) No one seems to care, but I care - not enough to make me WAKE UP or anything but I still care! - and so I am just waiting for the guillotine to fall. But it's too soon. And they have never said anything. And I sound more and more guilty as I type this out... Regardless, I was still coming up with all sorts of rebuttals for why they needed to keep me. And how I was finally finding my niche in the company. And that they couldn't possibly do without me. I'm a different employee than the lady I took over. I have different strengths. A lot of the times I am wondering if they wish she hadn't left, and that they had hired someone else. But every once in a while, I think, "No. I'm an asset to this company. I have something to give. I have a lot to give." But that's just every once and a while. Still, I like this job. I like it a lot. And I love the guys I work with. And I would really be in trouble if I lost my job. So I was going to fight it. I was going to convince Kevin that he couldn't fire me.

I looked at the letter the minute I walked in the door. It isn't a termination letter. Of course it isn't. Because KMA isn't ready to get rid of me and I'm not ready to leave. I'm going to get all the Word Perfect files converted to Word docs, and I'm going to rid all the specs of their superfluous periods. And I'm going to set a standard for how we do covers and documents and I like designing the spec book covers. And I'm getting rid of the Rolodex. You see, there is so much for me to do around here. They just can't get rid of me. So, like I said, it isn't a termination letter. In fact, it is a very generous "thank you" note that I still can't believe is sitting on my desk.

I don't know what I did to deserve this job - but let me tell you, it has been a blessing from the moment I walked in the door, so I must have done something good. I'm thankful everyday for my job, for my boss, for my co-workers. I dread waking up in the morning, but I never dread going to work. With the economy the way that it is, I know I am lucky to have a job. But more importantly, I'm blessed to have a job that I like and that likes me back.




And for some reason, this is the song that came to mind... (video above) I think it is one of my favorites from the Sound of Music and only partially appropriate for this. But I still love it.

Sunday, February 07, 2010

The Big News

I went to a wedding tonight for the brother of an old friend from Ohio. I'm not sure that I ever spoke to Jesse in my life, but I wish him every happiness in his marriage... and I still have never spoken to him. I did however have fun running into people that I haven't seen in YEARS. And seeing their families and all the cute babies (which, I held and helped put to sleep, and cuddled....It was great).

Now, I've lived on my own out here at BYU for 5 years. And for 5 years, not many people have asked me about my dating life or the big, "When are you going to get married?" question. But I guess that now I'm 24 and unmarried, I am simply an old maid. Maybe they all feel like they've given me long enough and now it's time for a little bit of pressure?

"So - when are we going to hear your big news?" This former-member of the Stake Presidency (of the DOE Stake) asked.

"My big news?" I replied, knowing exactly what he was implying. "I'll be graduating in April. So I'm pretty excited about that," I say.

His wife laughs, but he is resilient. "I see that you've brought a nice guy to the wedding," he points to James. James... the brother of my brother. The friend who has been around so long, he might as well be my brother. He practically is. After all, I call his Mum and Dad "Mother and  Father," and they call me their "Fifth daughter." So, no. Not James. I don't even think James liked the implication.  We try to change the topic, but as he heads out the door, he adds, "Well, we'll be listening for the news."

While home for Christmas, my Uncle decided that it was my New Year's Resolution to get married. Apparently 2010 is MY year.

Well, truthfully, I don't think it is. I'll be focusing on 1) Getting out of my house and into the aforementioned trash hole and 2) finishing stats, so that I can actually do something with my life. Like...breathe. That will be so nice.

I think once I've accomplished those two things - everyone will agree with me - that will be BIG ENOUGH news. Regardless, I am going to start keeping track of those people who really want me to get married - the ones that bring it up or harass me. "Why?" You ask. Well, It's just that, when I DO get married, I will expect the biggest gifts from them. After all, they are the ones that are so desperate for me to marry. (Really, though, I wonder if it is just for lack of anything to talk about. We haven't seen each other in years, so they might as well ask about my non-existent relationship status, because who knows whether or not it has changed or if it about to change. After all, that is what I always want to know about - of course, my curiosity is wholly due to the fact that I like romance. And I like love. And I like to hear all the mushy, gooey details of it all. I'm not offended by anyone who want to know "when" or "who" or "if" I'll be married. I just think it is funny at how insistent they all are.)

Anyway, I am working on the first two priorities. Somewhere after that is more writing. Maybe I will even start pursuing in an active way getting my book published. Of course, my manuscript has been stolen. So... I'll need to be getting that back. Or something.

Until then, you will all be reading about my phony engagements. Because I think they are fun.

Saturday, February 06, 2010

Why I haven't moved in....

A lot of people keep asking me if I have moved into my new place, or not, and then can't figure out why I'm still staying at the house. First of all, the house has completely spoiled me. Even turned upside down with all of Roberta's things out waiting for us to pack - it is still nicer than the apartment I am moving into. Plus, I like Roberta and Becca and prefer them over to roommates I do not know.

But besides that, (and besides the obvious: I just don't want to take the remaining few items, including my loads of laundry that needs to be done over to my apartment because that just means more moving and there is ABSOLUTELY no more room left under my bed - that is already on cinder block... * big exhale*) I don't want to move into this:

 

  

I am really not ready to move into this squalor. Those trash bags remained in that same spot for over three days. THREE DAYS! I would drop things off during my lunch break this week, and they would still be there. The kitchen sink is always full, and they leave food just sitting on the table open. Listen, I know that my room is always a mess - and it will be so more because I don't really have that much space to store anything - but I can't stand filth. *shudder*
So you see, I am postponing my inevitable appointment of becoming a Mom, garbage man and dishwasher.

And hopefully now you see WHY I am still sleeping at my old place, even though I don't have any more clothes to wear.

Kelsie Story

I had to work today.

Somehow I can't bring myself to be sad about that - mostly because I get a couple of hours of over time. And I feel really good about the work that I did. I got to design two covers for an RFP that is going out, and I don't care how simple it is, I really enjoy doing that sort of thing. Plus, Kevin even complimented me and said I "really have a talent" for it. It made me sort of puffy. Also, Kevin bought us all lunch. So that was really nice of him.

When I checked my Facebook last night, Amy's status read something pretty interesting.
Amy Patrick is so excited that little miss Kelsie woke up at 2 in the morning and decided that she wanted a bath? What the heck, kid!!!! So she had a bath in the dark and then played for about an hour and is finally deciding she might be tired again!!! AHHHHH
It was posted around 1:40 a.m. MST, so that means Amy was up really late. I couldn't help but laugh. How did Amy know that Kelsie woke up for a bath? It seemed so funny. And so like Kelsie. Perhaps Amy just thought that if she put Kelsie in the bath, it would calm or soothe her enough that she would go to sleep. Well, I know for a fact that 2 a.m. is a GREAT time to take a bath (I've taken many at this time) so I'm not really surprised that Kelsie would be smart enough to figure that out. I was still skeptical though, that this recently turned one-year old would be able to communicate such a fact.

When I checked Facebook again later, Amy had responded to my questions:

She woke up and screamed bloody murder till I got her... I tried to get her to go back to sleep, she would not. I let her down on the floor in my room, she got the door open walked down the hall, stood in the kitchen doorway pointing at the bathroom saying, "mamamamamammama" then she came back to me. I was sitting on the floor in the front room watching her in the dark, she gave me a hug, and walked down the hall again pointing at the bathroom, i followed her into the kitchen, she went into the bathroom saying, "ba ba ba ba..." she tried to climb in, I said, "a bath?" she tried to take off her clothes, I assisted she climbed in and had a bath.
Also, it was all very random. and then as I sat there watching her walk up and down the hall in the dark, I think it must have been my eyes playing tricks on me, but she looked either like she was walking in a strobe light (you know how like you see something in one place, then all the sudden it is right next to you not the flashing light part.) I don't know how to explain it, but she like waddled up and down the hall in her little feety pajamas like something had possessed her! lol. like a small gremlin or something. 
I couldn't help but giggle. I love Kelsie stories - they are the best! And since Amy doesn't blog religiously about her daughter (I may or may not be the only one who would obsessively read it, but I still think she should take up the past time. Hint. Hint) I thought that this particular story should be recorded.

Also, Amy said that Kelsie was really confused by my birthday gift I sent her. I found that Target (and probably other places, but that is where I bought it) is selling retro Fisher Price toys and decided that I had to get Kelsie something that we all remember having as a child. The toys these days are not nearly as fun as the silly ones they put out when we were little and our parents were little. Anyway, I found the hand dial phone that you pull with a string and the eyes move up and down and thought it was SO cute that Kelsie just had to have it. AND it was her first birthday on February 2, so she deserved it. (Whether or not Mom and Amy say that Kelso has too many toys or not.)

Anyway, Kelsie has never used a phone with an actual CORD before. So Amy said that they tried to show her how to use the phone, but she didn't want to pull it - but she did because that is what they showed her - but she knew that you didn't PULL phones, so she just laid her head on it.

Gosh, I love that girl.

Friday, February 05, 2010

Checking up on Me

William: Have you made lots of stats progress?
  And/Or
  Have you finished moving yet?

5 minutes
7:43 PM William: A. I thought about stats once today.
B. I should start on stats soon. Maybe in a week or two.
C. I'll finish moving tomorrow.
D. Or maybe I'll finish moving this weekend
E. Ya right.
F. I hate you.
G. All of the above.
7:44 PM No need to answer. I already know which one you would pick.




Just for the record, the answer was D and H. [none of the above]

I was actually preparing to do stats when I encountered this conversation.

So there.

Thursday, February 04, 2010

More Tales from Work

While eating at Stumpy Burger for lunch today [Which, consequently, makes some of the best burgers and worst milkshakes in Provo. Just so you know.], we noticed that we were sitting across the only (?) bar in Provo - Atchafalaya - and my boss (who also bought our lunch today!) went into a story about how when he was younger he had stopped in the bar during the time when BYU was hosting the NCAA national track meet, and so it was packed, and some guy picked a fight with him as he was walking out.


I learned a few things from this story.


  1. The big, burly man will always pick on someone he knows he can take. Don't make eye contact. Walk away - in the other direction.
  2. Fighting on Center Street in Provo is big trouble. Take it to the alley.
  3. Always have enough cash money in order to pay bail. And don't throw your receipt at someone who makes you mad. You may need it later. 
  4. Somehow, your boss is going to find out.
You see, apparently the laws are pretty strict in Provo about fighting on Center street. And if you get caught, you will go to jail. And even if you have enough money to pay your bail - you're still required to spend a few hours in the slammer. Once you've completed your time, you'll need bail money and if you pay in cash, they'll give you a receipt and charge you again later. So when the ticket arrives in the mail, if you threw your receipt at your wife, you'll have to pay again. Apparently Provo P.D. doesn't keep written records anywhere. Just so you know, fighting on Center street isn't a cheap ticket. You don't want to pay that twice.

Honestly, I thought this whole thing was hilarious. After all, my boss is an awesome guy. These are the types of stories I would think to hear from my managers at IHOP.  Not at KMA. Regardless, they are hilarious and I wish you could have been there to listen to him tell the story. He makes it sound like it was yesterday - but we're fairly certain it happened...at least ten years ago. Who knows? Maybe he spent the night in the slammer last weekend (just kidding).

Tuesday, February 02, 2010

Happy Birthday, AMY!

Twenty-three years ago my little sister was born on this very day. I don't actually know the story - I know that she was born breech and that my mom had a C-section.

I'm not really sure what my reaction was to having a little sister when she was first brought home. I was only 18 months old. I think the picture shows that I liked her well enough.

As we grew up, we were so close in age that we basically did everything together. We collected slugs in our emptied out peanut butter jars. We rode our bikes around the block and tried to get ourselves lost.

We made up dream machines. And played pound puppies before we went to bed. We shared friends. We walked to the pool everyday. We made a paper house floor plan and paper people. We played Barbies. Lots of Barbies.

I'm not going to lie - we were pretty much the most awesome kids in the whole world.

Since we shared a room, there was some fighting. She didn't like the fact that I liked to listen to Classical music. Or that my alarm went off 328 times before I got up for seminary. But once I started driving, we were friends again.

Amy has been a built-in best friend since the day she was born and so I am very grateful that we have this day every year to celebrate that.

Happy birthday, little sister! I love you.

 

Also, I love her even more because ONE year ago today, she had that baby. Kelsie is sooooo cute. I can't believe that she's been around for a whole year. She's such an intricate part of all our lives (well, maybe not intricate for me as I sit some 2,000 miles away) and I love her to pieces.

 

Amy - will you PLEASE PUHLEASE get me more pictures?

Monday, February 01, 2010

Goals

I stumbled across a blog today that I really liked the idea of, and so I wanted to try it out for myself.

I'm not much of a goal setter. This is mostly because of two things: 1. I accomplished the singular goal that I created for myself sometime around third grade; and, 2. I have no sense of comprehending the word deadline.

Since most goals usually come with deadlines, I have a tendency to shy away from them. There is simply too much disappointment for everyone involved when deadlines are missed. For myself. For those rooting for me. I'm sure just about everyone who ever looks at this blog has experienced this - with me - at one time or another (or is currently experiencing this wondering why in the ...I'm blogging and not working on a) moving or b) stats...which by the way, neither are completed...)

quickly changing the subject

The point is - There are more things that I want to accomplish in my life. There are some things that I am determined to do. And I think they deserve recognition. After all, aren't the goals written down the ones more likely to be accomplished?

There are so many, though.

I typed out a list of 100+ things. Some may take my whole lifetime, others, I could probably sit down and get them done tomorrow. I think that I will continue to add as I go. And cross off the ones that I actually accomplish - and of course, I will blog about the whole thing. Because that's how I do. 

Hey, Hay HEy! (I'm engaged! Scenario #2)

His name is Adam.

We met at my new ward the first time attended. He really caught my attention with the very first thing he said to me: "Are you a freshman, too?"

I didn't realize it at the time, but that was his plan for luring me into his trap.

His being young doesn't intimidate me. It just means that I will have to put in my time as a Suga-Mama. My great job will hardly support both of us, but as a married couple he should be eligible for grants and loans through the federal government.

He's also from Utah and likes to visit home - a lot. I always knew I wanted to marry a Mama's boy. I think maybe he sees a lot his mother in me. It must be why we are so compatible.

I'm sure I will very much enjoy my time picking up after him, making him Mickey Mouse pancakes for breakfast and maybe we'll even hit up the arcade.

That is: if I can get him away from the X-box.

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