My Fifty-sixth Post

My grades for last semester, in order of how important the class was:

C
A-
B
B
A

So. Yeah, the C really sucks, I'm not sure what I'm gonna do about that. I really don't want to retake the class, though.

Since the computer is in constant demand at my house right now, I'm finding it hard to find time to type up my thoughts. I have hand-written several pages of them though, and I might find time to type them up later. We'll see.

My Fifty-fifth Post

Three things that can make me happy even when I’ve spent 14 hours in an airport:

(1) The unexpected joke the security guy made when he looked at my boarding pass
(2) The guy at Quiznos noticing I was having a bad day
(3) The man sitting across from me who kept pretending he didn’t know his wife and kept introducing himself to her.

So, other than the flight home, my winter vacation has been wonderful so far. My family’s annual Monopoly Championship of the world was held on Christmas Eve. I won last year (which was a miracle—I’m really bad at that game), so I was in charge of the prize for this year. My sister, Sundevil, won my carefully chosen prize of a Suduko-a-day calendar. My little brother, Runner, went bankrupt first and got his name on the “loser-y” trophy for the third year running. He was trying to lose, though, so I don’t feel sorry for him. I think it’s funny that we don’t really keep track of the winner—just the “loser.” That, and the fact that our trophy is a small length of 2x4 with green army men nailed to it.

Speaking of board games, I played my first official game of Scrabble this week. My sisters and I (all of us were in town!) were looking for something to do, and my new sister-in-law (Sil) suggested Scrabble. Now, my family has never really been into Scrabble and none of us really knew how to play except Sil, so it was an interesting game. I got very frustrated when I had the most perfectly placed, high scoring word in the entire game, but it was disqualified for being a proper noun. Who says Syria’s not in the dictionary? But it was good fun anyway.

Heh. Being around my family during the holidays makes everything seem hilarious. Let me share a few stories to illustrate my point. Let me start by saying that Sundevil and I share a fondness for zebras, dating back to a strange inside joke from our teen years. Over time, we have continued this joke mainly in the form of stealing zebra-themed things from my mom’s stash of grandkids toys (the two zebras from the Noah’s Ark set, the two ‘Z is for zebra’ blocks from the ABC building blocks, etc.) and smuggling them off to our respective apartments. This year my mom had purchased a toy nativity scene for my nieces and nephew to play with. Sundevil and I were very disappointed to see that there were no zebras in the set, and the following conversation took place:

Sundevil: Hey! There are no zebras!
Me: Yeah! How come there aren’t any zebras?
Sundevil: He loved zebras! I don’t think He would have consented to being born if there were no zebras present.
Me: Yeah, He totally loves zebras.
Faybe (my younger sister, entering the room) : Who loves zebras?
Sundevil: The Baby Jesus, of course.

Now you can’t tell me that isn’t funny.

Another conversation, held during the Monopoly game between Sundevil and Char, my other younger brother:

Char (after being sent to jail for the third time): So are you gonna give me your “Get Out of Jail Free” card?
Sundevil: I’ll give it to you for $100.
Char: Really? Yeah, okay!
Sundevil: But you can just pay $50 to get out of jail.
Char: Yeah, but with the card, it’s free!

Hee.

I love my family!

My Fifty-fourth Post

So I spent a long time at the library today. I had a paper that sort of snuck up on me. The professor technically would have accepted it up until Thursday, but you could tell that he really didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve grading papers. So I figured I’d turn it in today in hopes of encouraging lenient grading. Anyway. It took me a long time to get it all down on paper… mostly because I simply could not concentrate.

Anyway, I ended up going to work almost 2 hours later than I was scheduled. I was able to do this because my co-worker, Drazi (I’ve decided to stop using initials—it’s getting confusing!) is amazing. Anyway. Work ended up being so fun, and we ended up getting a little crazy toward the end.

Now, for a little back-story, my manager has recently implicated a new policy that basically sucks. My job takes place in a rather loud area, so it’s difficult to have much in the way of conversation. Drazi and I joke that the most useful skill we’ve learned is how to have an entire conversation with someone without being able to hear a word of what the other person is saying. You think I’m exaggerating; I’m not.

Basically the most entertaining part of my job is the music we play over the speakers. We can turn the volume up high enough so we can hear it above the clamor of our little workspace, and then I can sing along to it as loud as I want without anyone being bothered by it. Previously, we’ve had a wide range of control over the music that we listen to. We could choose the radio station or bring in CDs, and we control even the volume (although technically we aren’t supposed to change it). All of that changed after Thanksgiving when my manager decided that we could only listen to that radio station that’s been playing non-stop Christmas music since early November. Now, I really have nothing against Christmas music—in fact, I love Christmas music…

But.

There are some drawbacks to listening to this station for 20 hours a week for an entire month. For one thing, radio commercials get really annoying after a while. Really, really annoying. For another, they tend to play the same songs over and over and over again. It’s not uncommon to hear the same song three times during my regular shift. Now granted, they’re usually different versions preformed by different artists, but still! Let’s just say I’m getting really tired of “Little Drummer Boy” and “Do You Hear What I Hear.”

So when Drazi and I realized today that we were working out last shift together for the rest of the year, we were feeling nostalgic for some of the CDs we used to play. We appealed to our direct supervisor (not my manager—he was gone for the day) who could see our plight and was very understanding.

And that is how we ended up blasting the soundtrack to Wicked over the sound system at work. Drazi, Ash (another coworker from a different area), and I have had a lot of practice singing along to this particular musical. In fact, we know pretty much every word, harmony, and counterpoint on the entire CD. And we sing along. In parts. Needless to say, we had a fabulous time. Then I treated Drazi to ice cream to make up for my missing two hours. It was great. I feel energized, like I can even conquer my remaining three finals which have recently started to weigh a little heavy on me as finals week progresses.

So this has been a needlessly long post. Sorry for subjecting you to it.

My Fifty-third Post

So I actually have three blogs—did you know that? Besides this one, I have a blog that my sisters and I use to tell funny stories, post silly pictures, and generally keep in touch.

You know what I just realized? None of my sisters even live in the same city anymore. All of my brothers do, though. Maybe that’s why we have a blog, and they don’t. Although one would assume that they (my brothers) would want to keep in touch with us. I wonder why they never want to read our blog. If they had a blog, I would read it. Hmph.

Anyway, my third blog is one I used during my brief stint as “ward historian.” This was a calling that I was very excited about… until I realized my only purpose would be to make a slide show at the end of the term. I basically used it to post and keep track of pictures from ward activities. It isn’t very interesting (unless you were in my ward and knew the people), so I’m deleting it today. Goodbye, “History in the Making,” you’ve served your purpose well.

My Fifty-second Post

Do you ever get things stuck in your head, and you don’t know what they are or where they came from? This happens to me a lot with numbers. Like just now, as I was brushing my teeth, this random string of digits came into my head, and I simply couldn’t figure out why they were so familiar to me. I finally realized that it was the phone number to my dad’s office (which I probably haven’t dialed in over four years).

It’s not always numbers, though. A few nights ago as I was trying to fall asleep I got the word “phenobarbital” stuck in my head. Do you know what that is? Because I sure don’t. A quick trip to the dictionary tells us that it is an anticonvulsant drug. Why on earth this word would get stuck in my head is beyond me. It only just came to me where I’d heard that word: it was from an episode of Grey’s Anatomy two seasons ago.

Weird.

My Fifty-first Post

Starting next month, passport required to return to The USA from Canada, Mexico. Starting in 2008, you'll also need a note from your mother and a Toby Keith CD.

I love Fark.

My Fiftieth Post

Action is better than anticipation. Sometimes you just have to have those hard conversations. And even if it takes you twenty minutes to build up enough courage to go over there, only to find yourself sitting and staring at the door, unable to move—even when you panic and have to find sanctuary in the bathroom while you desperately try to gain control of your emotions—even when you boldly stride back to the door, lift up your hand and find yourself unable to knock—at least you’re on your way. So although you don’t know what you will say, or what the outcome will be, you offer a timid knock and take a deep breath as a voice within beckons you inside. At least in ten minutes it will all be over.

My Forty-ninth Post

So I have an alarm clock. Unfortunately, there have been issues with it lately, in that it hasn't been waking me up. I've narrowed it down, and I think I've figured out what the problem is: it is in the kitchen, while I typically sleep in my bed.

Yep, that'd do it.

There is a reason for this; it may not be a good reason, but it is a reason. See, I like having music on in the background when I'm doing "stuff." Since I tend to do a lot of “stuff” in the front of my apartment, it’s handy to have my CD-playing clock radio out there during the day. By the time I’m ready to go to sleep, I realize that if I try to take my alarm clock back into my room, plug it in, reset the time, and set the alarm, I will most definitely wake my very light-sleeping roommate who will then be annoyed with me. So I usually decide it’s not worth it and attempt to (a) find someone who is going to get up early enough who is also willing to wake me up or (b) borrow H’s cell phone and set the alarm on that.
I ended up borrowing H’s cell phone on Thursday night on the condition that I wake her up before I left for class. Overhearing this, C asked if I could also get her up when I got up. So on Friday morning, I woke up to the charming little alarm on H’s cell phone, crept into C and H’s room, and woke up C, being careful not to disturb H (so that she could sleep uninterrupted until she needed to be awake). I then set about making breakfast and such. After a few minutes, I realized that C had fallen back to sleep, so I gently reminded her that she really did need to get up. I then took a shower, and when I got out, I discovered that C had gone back to sleep yet again, so I proceeded to throw back her covers, open the blinds, and threatened to get a glass of ice water if she didn’t get up. C was then finally awake enough to realize how late it was getting, and thanked me for making sure she was actually awake. I finished getting ready for the day, and left for class, proud of myself for being such a good roommate.

It wasn’t until about 3 hours later that I remembered that I had never woken H up.

I had a break between classes, so I hurriedly went over to where I knew her 11 o’clock class was, and was slightly relieved to see her there. However, she did not look happy with me. She had not woken up until 10 minutes after her first class had already started, so she had arrived almost a half an hour late, ruining her plan to finish her homework during the lecture. So much for being a good roommate, huh?

Anyway, the moral of the story is: don’t keep your alarm clock in the kitchen.

In other news, I spent about an hour last night hiding amongst the bookshelves in the library. Don’t worry, I wasn’t compromising my standards. I hardly ever see my good friend N anymore because she’s so busy, so when we ran into each other last night, we wanted to talk. We didn’t want to disturb anybody, so we held our conversation deep in the bowels of the fifth floor of the HBLL. It was one of the best conversations we’ve had in a long while.

My Forty-eighth Post

I like this blog. I don't know why I try so hard to hide it from people. Don't you think I have friends who might be interested in my thoughts and the things going on in my life? Well, I do. I'm going to stop hiding and come out of my blog-closet. You know... eventually. No, you know what? I'm doing this. I'll even make my profile public and put my blog on my Facebook profile. That'll ensure that a total of three people will eventually find their way to my blog.

Also, if Rudolph Valentino were hitting on you, he might say something like this: “You make me al dente with desire.” Not that I know from experience or anything.

My Forty-seventh Post

My favorite announcement from church today:

"There will be no marriage prep class today because... um... the teachers got married."

My Forty-sixth Post

I just found this list stuck in my scriptures. I can't remember writing it.

Ideals:
-marry in the temple
-help my friends and family learn to love the gospel
-learn to be unselfish
-have a strong testimony that will support me in hard times
-see the ideal situation and trust that it can become reality

Yep, that's me. Idealistic.

My Forty-fifth Post

So, blogging. That's cool.

I haven't done it in a long time. This is mostly because blogging requires me to (a) have something interesting to say, and (b) be motivated to write about it.

I have decided to read the Book of Mormon this month. I haven't read the whole thing all the way through since high school. In fact, that's the only time I've read the whole thing from start to finish. If I figured right, I have to read 17 pages a day to finish on New Year's Eve.

You know, I was thinking about not going home for Christmas this year. I mean, I just went home for Thanksgiving, and I know I could pick up some easy cash if I stayed around and worked over Christmas. So I was seriously considering not going home. Then I got this email:

Okay kiddo! I need to know dates as soon as possible so I can try and get you airfare home for Christmas. Yeah!!!!! I didn't get to see enough of you at Thanksgiving to really help me get over missing you. I love you a whole bunch - Did you know that?

Mom

How can I tell her I'm not coming home after that? Plus, she's willing to pay for my flights... so, it looks like I'm going home.

Also, I've decided that I'm not a bad person just because I've never played Scrabble.

My Forty-fourth Post

Weird exchange between C and myself:

C: [insults me]
Me: Well, that's true.
C: Shut up, no it's not.
Me: [throws highlighter at C; scowls]
C: We have such a great relationship!

My Forty-third Post

So, just to check back in:

(1)Pay tuition
Yep.
(2)Buy the rest of my books
Done.
(3)Don't cry over my empty bank account
I bought myself a Jamba Juice to distract myself. So CHECK!
(4)Read scriptures
Yes.
(5)Finish moving my stuff into my new room
Umm... I don't know why I even put this on the list, as all of my stuff is already in my room. I think maybe I meant 'put the stuff away,' but since I didn't actually say that, I'm not responsible for that... right?
(6)Find a day planner
Hm. I looked, but was unsatisfied. I will have to try again later.

My Forty-second Post

Today is my first day of school. Er... except that it's not really. See, classes start today, but since I'm not actually taking any Tuesday classes, I have no obligations to attend said non-existent classes. In fact, I have no obligations at all. Except maybe to go to work this afternoon. GAH! I have to get out of my summer mind set! Okay, let's come up with a few obligations for today:

(1)Pay tuition
(2)Buy the rest of my books
(3)Don't cry over my empty bank account
(4)Read scriptures
(5)Finish moving my stuff into my new room
(6)Find a day planner

Okay, that looks good. I'll report back later to let you know how I've done with my list of obligations. Yay!

My Forty-first Post

I have done all I can. I'm not sure about some of the decisions I've made, but I'm afraid that I'll be too afraid to change them if I'm wrong. Fear is a terrible thing. But my fear is founded in logical ideas. Should I do what I've committed to do? Or do what will be best for me? Commitments are not things that I can break easily. I'll let someone down, I'll lower others' opinions of me. But what about the alternative? Is it worth it? Now I wait.

Sorry for being so abstract. My posts have started exhibiting free writing more than they have in the past. I'm not sure if it'll stay this way. We'll see.

My Fortieth Post

So sometimes my job is interesting. Like a few hours ago when my co-worker called me at midnight to see if I would come in for a few hours and help her. I considered:

I'm not asleep nor especially tired.
I will get paid for working.
I like this particular co-worker.
Even if I didn't like her, I can't just abandon her.

So I went to work. In the middle of the freaking night. But it was fun. It sure was fun. I think I'm obsessed with blogging.

My Thirty-ninth Post

I feel like blogging. There's nothing to stop me. And I have nothing better to do. That last sentence was a lie. Estoy una mentirosa. I went to DI yesterday. It was not a fruitful trip. I am sad. We lost the bookshelf in our living room last week, and the whole room looks bare without it. I wish we had a shelf. But there's nothing I can do. Now there are a bunch of books piled up in the corner. They look sad and disused. I am an extremely talented liar when I want to be. I don't often want to be. I shaved my legs this morning. Happiness ensues.

My Thirty-eighth Post

School starts next week. I am unsure about so many things.

I have a crush on a boy. This is not uncommon.

I might see my brother tomorrow. And meet his fiancee.

H comes back today. C is gone for the weekend.

Tuesday. Only on Tuesdays.

Today is Thursday. Tomorrow is not.

My Thirty-seventh Post

Life will be good soon. I know it will. But right now, I'm just flanked on all sides by guilt for all the things I know I should be doing that aren't getting done. And it's about to hit the fan. If I don't do everything by tomorrow, things are just going to suck. So I guess that leaves me with one obvious choice: start working.

You know, I do this to myself all the time. I commit to doing something, and then I put it off time and time again. Then, when it finally comes down to the line, I give in and get to work. If I would just buckle down and do it right at first, I wouldn't have this enormous burden of guilt and self loathing. Hopefully I will be able to recognize these situations before I actually become ensnared once more. Gotta have faith in the future, right?

My Thirty-sixth Post

Man. I started this post on Monday, but I never finished it. Now I want to blog about something else, but I feel obligated to post this first since it's been waiting so patiently. *Sigh.* Fine.

So yesterday was the social highlight of the summer for me. Not because anything particularly exciting happened, just because I actually went to and participated in things. I gave a talk in Sacrament meeting, so a lot of people talked to me who normally wouldn't have. At one point, I wandered over to my roommate who was talking to some people, and one of them said something to me. I hadn't really been listening to what they were saying, so I just smiled and nodded politely. When I got home from church, I started poking around in the kitchen trying to figure out what to make for dinner, when my roommate, C, reminded me that we were going to have dinner with the people she'd been talking to. I was surprised, but I went along anyway, seeing as how I didn't have anythign better to do. It was way fun, and I talked to several people in my ward that I'd never met before (this is not that uncommon, since I'm a social recluse and never talk to anyone).

C and I had also signed up for interviews with the Relief Society presidency that evening, so we went and did that after the dinner.

We were on our way home when my visiting teaching supervisor stopped and asked me if I'd done my VT yet. I was a little surprised, seeing as how we aren't even halfway through August yet. She explained that, because of the end of the term, the Stake wanted all of the VT done by that evening. My companion has been out of town for a while, so I asked C to go with me, and I dashed off to make an appointment. I only have one girl right now (the other one got married recently), and I had never visited with her because I was only recently assigned to her. She was way awesome and I really enjoyed chatting with her. She even forgave me for my impromptu lesson.

When we left her apartment, we walked smack into dessert night, so we hung around and visited (instead of my typical reaction, which would be to run and hide as quickly as possible). I finally went back to my apartment, only to be invited to play cards by the girls up stairs. So I went and played.

Now this may not sound all that exciting for any of you, but for me, this was exceptionally social behavior. Wahoo!

My Thirty-fifth Post

So, it's 5:15 am, and surprise, surprise, I'm NOT complaining about having to get up early for work. Actually, I haven't even been to sleep yet. I suppose I'm tired, but it's not that "my-eyelids-are-so-heavy-I-don't-think-I-can-hold-them-up-for-one- more-second" tired. It's more like that "I-thought-it-was-only-two-am-but-when-I-looked-at-the-clock-it-was- already-five" tired. Which basically means that although I probably should not be making any life altering decisions right now, I feel like I can. Which is probably a bad thing. What is it they say about how having very little sleep is almost as bad as being drunk? I can never remember, but I'm sure I could prove that statement right now. Bring on the sobriety tests; I'm drunk as a loon.

Oookay. No more blogging while I'm "drunk." In case anyone was interested, I stayed up all night in order to watch the entire first season of Veronica Mars. I got it in the mail on Monday night after work (probably around 10 pm), and since then I have watched it in its entirety. Which means in the last 31 hours, I have watched 22 hour-long episodes of this show. And I've worked for about 7 of those hours. So that leaves... 3 hours of sleep since I woke up 48 hours ago (Monday morning). Smart. Very smart. But what else is summer for?

My Thirty-fourth Post

It's 5 am, and I have to be at work in half an hour. I had to work late last night, and I didn't go to bed until about 2 am. Let me do the math for you... that's 3 hours of sleep. I'm sitting here in front of my computer having violent hiccoughs. This is because life is not fair. Don't ever think otherwise.

My Thirty-third Post

So I was all alone in my apartment for a significant period of time tonight. So I do what I always do in this situation: I put on a DVD and proceded to do some cleaning. Among other things, I found myself straightening all of the towels on the racks in the hallway. They are now all lined up and perfect looking. When my roommate, B, came home she walked down the hallway, and then did a double take when she noticed the towels. She just looked at them for a moment, looked over at me, and said "I think you have OCD." Then she went off to the kitchen without another word.

Hee.

My Thirty-second Post

So I went to the lake on Saturday. It was wonderful. I went with a bunch of fun people. We came home and made fajitas and then we watched a movie. It was a wonderful, social experice. I don't care that I only know ten people in my entire ward. I have friends and I have fun. So there.

My Thirty-first Post

A converstaion recorded on the back of my sacrament program on January 8, 2006:

H: You maketh me feel irreverent

Me: I ameth irreverent. Cool pen!

H: All my pens are cool. I see no J [ex boyfriend].

Me: Poor baby. Maybe you broke his heart.

H: He said I did. The new D, I believe, is the cutest in the ward—too short though.

Me: Just what we need—another D. We should bring him baked goods and then you could ask him out.

H: Um. No. Too short. And what do you mean another D?

Me: There are 4 or 5 in our ward already. How about we set him up with C?

H: Maybe, but we should find out if he’s taller than her first. How about R?

Me: Well, he’s definitely taller than her—but I wouldn’t want to subject him to her right away… just kidding, R is great.

H: Haha! I half want to call J and see why he’s not here but also I think it might be better if I act as mean as I can so he gets over me?

Me: Well, if he’s mad at you already, I think that’s a small step to “getting over” you. Maybe. I don’t know. I want to walk to B’s after church.

H: No! Roommate council first!

Me: Uhhh… okay. Anyway, I have to clean my room before I do anything. I just feel like going for a walk.

H: So… walk home.

Me: Well, I was gonna use my helicopter, but I guess I could walk…

A converstaion recorded on the inside of my sacrament program on January 8, 2006:

Me: Did you just say "Nice solo, you cheap whore"?!?

L: No, I said "Nice solo, you church whore."

My Thirtieth Post

It is summer. That means it tends to be hot, and it costs money to run the a/c. I like to leave the windows open at night to allow the cool night air to counteract the stuffiness of my apartment. Apparently, a lot of other people had the same idea. I’ve been up since about 6am, and I have been listening to the strangest symphony. Or maybe cacophony is a better word for it. See, because everyone’s windows are open, I can hear the alarm clocks going off fairly clearly from where I sit in my bedroom. 7:30 just rolled around, and I think I counted five distinct alarms going off almost simultaneously. I keep thinking about how each of those alarms represents another individual’s life, and wondering what they’re doing now to start their day.

My Twenty-ninth Post

I hate bees, wasps, yellow jackets, and any other bug-type thing that might fly in through my window with the intent to flit around all over my things, causing me to hide in the closet until it flies back outside.

I feel bad. I was mean to someone last night. I admit that I think rude things about people all of the time, but I seldom actually let the person know. Last night I did.

I work with this girl who is... frustrating. If I ask her to do something, she tends to ask a million questions (even though she's done the task a million times before) until I just give in and do it for her.

Anyway, last night, I asked her to do something pretty simple. After I explained to her several times what she needed to do, and receiving only a blank stare in return, I rolled my eyes and started to do it myself. She sat there and watched me do it (instead of, you know, helping), and once I was finished she offered an insincere apology. Now normally, I will usually completely dismiss such an apology, telling people that it's not a big deal, and it's not their fault. But what did I do instead? I rolled my eyes again and stomped off. I'm such a jerk! I can't believe I did that! And the thing is, I don't even really feel that bad because she showed absolutely no emotional reaction to my insulting behavior. If she doesn't know I was being mean, why should I feel bad about it?

*Sigh.*

This is going to be a long summer.

My Twenty-eighth Post

So. I was going to go to bed three hours ago, but somehow I got lured into the living room. My roommate C had never seen The Sixth Sense, and she didn't want to watch it alone. So we started watching it. Twenty minutes after it started, C fell asleep. But did I just go to bed? No. I stayed up and watched the whole thing. Stupid.

In other news, I've rearranged the furniture in my bedroom. I can now actually get into my closet, although it's more difficult to get to my bed. *Sigh.* Well, some sacrifices must be made.

I should go to bed now, but there is a website I want to check first. Unfortunately, it won't load. I've been trying for the last twenty minutes. Should I wait until it does? Or go to bed? Well, I should go to bed. Who wants to guess what I will actually do?

My Twenty-seventh Post

This totally reminds me of myself. Especially on the phone. I am the worst conversationalist ever. One time I literally ran away from this guy from one of my classes when I ran into him on campus. We talked for a minute or so, and them I abruptly said "Well, I've got to go" and took off! And then the rest of the day I kept remembering the "conversation" and becoming embarrassed all over again! Gah! (This is an image from PostSecret)

My Twenty-sixth Post

Today was my Grampa's 84th birthday. My mom and 4 of my siblings made the 14 hours drive up to Salt Lake this weekend, and one of my aunts was able to come as well. It was fun to hang out with my siblings, especially my little sister. I think she feels a little left out sometimes since she's the only girl left at home. My older sisters and I talk online all the time, but she's often left out of the loop since the Internet at home is a bit "iffy." I was hoping she could have stayed at my apartment at least one night while she was up here, but it didn't work out. Oh well. We had a lot of fun anyway. Yay for family.

And it may be a little off topic, but yay for not taking classes. It was the best decision ever!

My Twenty-fifth Post

Since I last blogged…

I dyed my hair red. (Sort of)

I slept backwards in my bed. (My head at the foot and my feet at the head)

I got a sunburn. (Ouch!)

I lost all of my internet bookmarks, and then got them back. (All by myself)

I've finagled an extra 8 hours of work a week. (That's a good thing)

I finished watching Scrubs Season 3. (This may be a bad thing)

I got a roommate. (For a week)

My Twenty-fourth Post

So I'm in Tucson this week. I flew home for Mother's Day/My Mom's birthday. It was a great surprise, and I'm glad I came. It's funny how easily I slip into "home-mode." I was expecting it to be kind of weird, but it's not-- at all.

Yesterday I went to church with my elder sister S, who is a Primary teacher for the 10-11 year old girls. I've decided Primary is much more fun than Sunday School and Relief Society. I'm jealous.

My nephew, N, is the most hilarious person in the world. He's not even two yet, but he's got so much personality! He has a massive collection of binkies, which he carts around the house all day. He's not completely happy unless he's got at least three of them (one for the mouth and one for each hand). I was watching him and his big sister, Little S, on Saturday while their parents were gone. Little S was hiding from me. I was about to go and check in the garage when N energetically started pointing to the back room and grunting. Such a good little tattle tale. I couldn’t be prouder.

Anyway. I may check back in when I have something interesting to say. But I make no promises.

My Twenty-third Post

I should be on my way to work right now. I'm going to be late as it is. Good thing I make time for the things that are really important-- like posting on my blog-- neh?

PS- it's possible I might be drunk... I don't know how, but I seem to be exhibiting several of the symptoms.

My Twenty-second Post

So it's been a while. I have a million things I've been meaning to blog about, but I never actually gotten around to it. This is my attempt to catch up with my life.

So the semester is officially over. The night before H went back home for the summer, we went out (with C and another kid who had a car) and had some fun. IHOP was inevitably involved, as was an impromptu stop at Pudding on the Rice, were we got free rice pudding. I never figured out exactly why it was free-- I think it was some sort of grand opening promotion-- but what do I care? It was FREE! Yay!

[Heh-- my roommate just walked in and became inexplicably excited when she saw my cute and newly purchased underwear. That's why roommates are so great. They get outwardly excited about things that I'm secretly ecstatic about.]

Then I spent a crazy day moving out of one apartment, moving into another, and working an incredibly long 8 hours. I still haven't really unpacked. Good times: yes, yes.

My mom was actually in town to help me move/to visit with her family. It was good to see my mom. I'm actually secretly flying home this Saturday for my Mom's birthday (which happens to fall on Mother's Day this year). Nobody knows I'm coming except my sister who is picking me up from the airport. I'm so excited. You have no idea. I'll be at home for 10 glorious days. Yay!

I've been working like crazy the last couple of days. Seriously. Like 14 hour days. My roommates started to think I was just a figment of their imaginations. But the hours are good, especially since I'm not going to get anything in my next paycheck since I'll be out of town for a nice chunk of the pay period. So work is good, but it is exhausting as well. Thank goodness this week is going to be slower.

So there is a pool at my new apartment complex. It's very nice. In fact, it's gorgeous. I'm in love with it. I've only used it once so far, but I have a feeling we're going to become best friends this summer. There are a couple things about it that bother me, though. The first is that it is right outside my window, so I hear everything that goes on down there. Like yesterday when it was just one of my neighbors and her boyfriend in the pool. All I could hear for about an hour was splashing and giggling. High pitched, squealy giggling. FOR AN ENTIRE HOUR. The second thing that bugs me about the pool is that it is supposed to be for tenants... but apparently the definition of "tenant" has been expanded to include anyone and everyone who has any sort of connection to the managers. Seriously, the other day there was a bunch of little kids (like 8-14 years old) just hanging out there because their parents knew the mangers. I really should just get over it, but I’ll probably just gripe about it all summer instead.

I like my new ward. Everyone is very close already, and I felt a bit like an outsider at first, but now I'm excited to get to know everyone. The other night a group of guys invited us over to watch Run Away Jury at their apartment. I went even though it was probably a bad idea-- I had to work at 4:30 the next morning. A funny thing happened when we were leaving to go to see the movie. I walked out of the door with C coming behind me. I was almost to the stairs when she suddenly screamed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something big flying above my head, so I crouched down and did what came naturally-- I panicked. When I finally got the courage to look up, there was a large black bug about the size of a child's fist, zipping around just above my head. This caused me to panic all over again and I ended up sitting on my butt on the ground helplessly looking up at IT. C dashed back to our door, and I squealed that she couldn't just abandon me outside with IT. She valiantly held the door open while I crawled back inside. We then proceeded to watch IT through a crack for the next five minutes until it casually flew around the corner. That's when we made our escape by dashing to the stairs and running all the way to our destination. In retrospect, I think it was fairly amusing. I mean, we were held captive by a harmless (albeit seemingly-menacing) bug.

The movie night was way fun, but on the way home I got really freaked out by this guy who was walking near us. He was coming up on us from behind, and he was walking really quickly. I got incredibly scared and I kept craning my neck around to keep an eye on him. It was painfully obvious that I was watching him, and after a few minutes has mumble something like "Guess I'm making you nervous, huh?" After that he picked up his pace and took off. CREEPY!!! I don't know when I've been more afraid of another human being. I kept expecting him to pull out a gun or something. I'm really paranoid now that I live off-campus.

Anyway. I have a new calling now. I'm now the ward historian. From what I can tell, that means that I need to collect pictures throughout the summer to make a ward video/slideshow at the end. Greeeeat. Just what I need. A calling that forces me to attend activities, get to know people, and take random pictures of them. I don't even know how I'm going to out everything together. The best I'll be able to do is a lame PowerPoint presentation. Maybe I'll find someone with some sort of technological background to help me. Hopefully.

So that’s my life as of now. Hopefully I’ll update a little more often in the coming months. Then I can avoid these marathon posts that no one wants to read anyway.

My Twenty-first Post

This is Squid. Squid is our cat. He lives under my roommate L's bed. He first started living with us in December. He is a playful fellow who enjoys getting into trouble. I think he is absolutely hilarious. I enjoy telling people about him. Which is why I'm putting this up on my blog. Long live Squid.

My Twentieth Post

Today was my last day of classes. Now I pretty much just have finals, but I'm not too stressed about any of them. I have my choir concert tomorrow night, which will be fun. I'm really glad I took a choir class this semester. It's been awesome. And I just might be brave enough to audition for the "big" choirs next fall. That would be so awesome. Anyway. I've also made some forays into the hearts of the 100 Hours Board writers this last week. I made them cookies and took them to their booth in the Wilk. Duchess mentioned the incident on her blog (http://duchessboard.blogspot.com/2006/04/snickerdoodles_14.html)
as did Optimistic
(http://blogtimistic.blogspot.com/2006/04/post-sixty-fifth.html).
I refuse to put in the actual links, because then they could trace them. And I don’t want them to. By not putting in links, I'm cheating the system, stickin' it to the man, flouting the rules, using too many clichés. Whatever

I just thought of a story about how I apparently have absolutely no tolerance for nonconformity. When I was in 6th grade, my class was teamed up with one of the 1st grade classes to be reading buddies. One time, we were supposed to help the smaller kids to type up stories, print them out, and then help them to illustrate them. My kid wanted to make our story about a fairy with green hair and orange eyes. I would not stand for this. I was so set against this simply could not let the 6-year-old have her way. We ended up compromising. We said that the fairy had "green" hair and "orange" eyes, but that "green" really meant golden and "orange" really meant blue in the land of fairies. I wonder what that story actually says about me. I don’t know, and I don’t feel like figuring it out.

My Nineteenth Post

I got a haircut. Actually, I got several hairs cut. Ha ha. That's a lame joke one of my old Spanish teachers used to make all the time. My roommate, A, cut it for me last Saturday after General Conference. I really enjoyed Conference, but I kept drifting off toward the end of every session. This was mostly because I was getting very little sleep, and also because stupid Day Light Savings time stole an entire hour. I'm really glad Arizona doesn't do the whole DLS thing. I hate it not only for the lost hour, but also for the fact that it is now no longer light outside when I wake up. Trying to convince myself to get up when it is dark outside is a battle I often lose... or possibly win (depending on how you look at it).

I like my thoughts. They lead me to the strangest places. And that's a good thing, most of the time.

I have only been attending 2 of my classes this week. That is a bad thing, but I can't convince myself to go to the other classes. Maybe I've got some advanced form of senioritis... about three years in advance, that is. Ha.

My Eighteenth Post

I believe today is the first time I think I have actually been frightened by my laundry--but not for the reasons you might think. See, I had spent the last hour or so alone in my room cleaning, folding laundry, etc. Yet, when I sat down at my computer, my chair was warm, as if someone had just left after sitting for a while. I was really creeped out by this... until I realized that I had been stacking my freshly laundered towels on my desk chair. I had moved them so that I could sit down, and, since they had just been removed from the dryer a short while ago, they left the chair feeling warm. Mostly this is just an example of how paranoid I can be.

Another funny laundry story. I was downstairs doing my laundry when I realized that I really wanted to wash the bra that I was wearing. So, being the quick thinking person that I am, I removed it and tossed it into the washer with the rest of my clothes. This was a really odd thing for me to have done, and I was thinking about it as I went back upstairs to my apartment. By the time I had unlocked the door and walked into the hallway, I was laughing hysterically (don't ask me why... I really can't explain why I found it so funny). Anyway, my roommates demanded to know what I was laughing about. After repeating the story three times so that everyone could hear, we were all inexplicably in hysterics over the situation. Roommates are great. They make me feel like removing my bra in a semi-public place is a perfectly normal thing to do. Plus, I love laughing at silly things, especially if there's a whole group of us laughing.

So I went with H to see a performance of Machinal . It was a short play (it only lasted about half an hour), but it was very well done. It was an expressionist piece that tried to display the contrast between the main character the machine-like world around her. All of the other characters wore dark colors, and had this ever-present rhythm to their speech and movement. This provided a stark contrast to the main character who wore a lovely green dress and floated around barefoot. It really helped to set the scene for the story, which focused on finding freedom from the restraints of the world. Plus, it was free (always a good thing)! I really enjoyed it.

My Seventeenth Post

Monday, Monday...

This is my day:

I have to take a test today.
I have to go to work today.
I should go to class today.
I should do homework today.
I should do my laundry today
I want to read The Lovely Bones today.
I want to watch TV today.
I want to go to FHE today.

My Sixteenth Post

My eldest sister is pregnant. I just found out today. That is exciting news. She's 26, and this will be her third child. It makes me wonder how my life is going to work out. I visited my grandparents in Salt Lake yesterday, and my grandpa asked me if I was going to go on a mission. He caught me quite off guard. It's always been a possibility in my life, but I've never really allowed myself to think about how a it would actually fit into my life. If I went on a mission, I would leave next summer to live in some unknown place for a year and a half of my life. It would completely change the way I think my life will go. H has talked about wanting to go on a mission. She turns 21 this summer. B is also very adamant about wanting to go on a mission when she turns 21. I don't know. What if I get married before then? I sort of have a feeling that I'm not going to get married for several years at least, but I really don't know. After all, two of my former roommates (A and T) are engaged to guys they didn't know a year ago. They're both getting married this summer. It's not completely out of the realm of possibilities that I could meet somebody and get married in the next couple years. I guess I really don't know what I want. Except a new niece/nephew. I do want that. And now I'm going to get one! Yay!

My Fifteenth Post

So last night, I got a call from H.

Me: "Hello?"
H: (sounding distressed) "Hi, Can you come get me?"
Me: "Yeah, where are you?"

I love that I responded that way. A friend needed me, and instead of debating or questioning, my immediate reaction was to do what she needed. I hope I can nurture that quality in myself. Maybe it will help me to be a better friend to the people around me.

My Fourteenth Post

Maybe I'm just not smart enough. I actually think that would make me feel better. Then, it wouldn't be my fault. It would just be circumstantial, and I could console myself that I was doing the best that I can. But as it is, I know I have huge potential. I know I have the ability to be great. So I just have this massive guilt hanging on me for wasting my potential. I wish I was strong enough to make goals. I'm too afraid that if I make them, they'll be hard to keep. So I don't make them. If I don't have goals, I can't fail to reach them. Is all this crap really about fear? Could I make it all go away if I just buck up and put in some hard work? Of course I could. Which is why I feel so guilty for doing what I'm doing. Slacker.

My Thirteenth Post

Once upon a time there was a very lazy girl. She always put off things that she was supposed to do until the last minute. I've never seen such an advanced case of procrastination. Sometimes she didn't finish her tasks, but most of the time she did. Her work was seldom "top notch," but it was satisfactory for the most part, so she didn't let it bother her. She knew she had a problem, but she didn't do anything about it. Life was fine. Until one day, all that changed....

I don't know what happens next. It is unlikely that our heroine will change her ways without some sort of motivation, but I don't know where her motivation will come from. Will it be a good cause? Or a selfish one? Or will the change be forced upon her? In any case, I hope she finds her happily ever after soon. It's got to be stressful living from deadline to deadline, constantly feeling guilty about all the things she should be doing. Plus, one of these days, she's going to mess up big time. I'd hate to be around when that happens.

My Twelfth Post

I just did my laundry. It’s sitting in a laundry basket taunting me. You might be surprised at what it wants me to do. It’s telling me to dump it out onto my bed and take a nap on top of it. I know this would not be a rational thing to do. I should go and fold/hang it up. But it’s got that warm, clean, fresh-from-the-dryer quality right now. And it’s tempting me.

My Eleventh Post

I love spring! I could just go outside and people watch in this gorgeous weather for hours if I had the time. I like to people watch... especially if I'm close enough to do a little eavesdropping as well. I hear the most random and crazy things while listening to complete strangers. It's just a brief glimpse into the complexities of the life of another human being.

You know what I’ve realized? In high school, I never really talked about my friends behind their backs. Now, I'm constantly talking to my friends about our other friends when they're not around. This especially happens with H and C. Every time I'm alone with one of them, we inevitably talk about the other one. I've been trying to figure out why this is.

I think in high school most of us were somewhat insecure with ourselves and our place in the social sphere of that world. When we finally became comfortable enough to identify each other as friends, we wanted to keep those relationships as a safe haven against the numerous other unknowns of social relationships in high school. So we weren't catty-- if we were angry with a friend, we made it pretty clear, and we usually resolved the problem before the day was over.

But in college, a lot of our friendships develop because of circumstances: we live together, we work together, we have a class together. And there isn't time to develop a truly strong bond because the circumstances that put two people together change too quickly. These are those ambiguous friendships that we're never sure about. Because the circumstances demanded it, we became friends. There is no safe haven. So we become defensive and withdraw from committing ourselves to a situation in which we can get hurt. And our frustration and curiosity leads us to ask for others' opinions. So we talk about each other and try to analyze exactly how we fit together. If only I could just let go and accept people and give them the chance to accept me. If only, if only.

My Tenth Post

Thursdays are usually good days, except for one thing: they are almost without exception followed by Fridays. Fridays suck. I know some people enjoy them, because it means only one more day until the weekend. I loath them. They make my week miserable. They're like the Trojan horse in my week. They arrive each week shining with the promise of a relaxing weekend, and then, out of no where, all these problems surface which eat away at my weekend until there is nothing left! And the worst part is, I never learn! Every week I let myself believe that I just have to make it until Friday, and then I'm home free. And every week, Friday finds another way to catch me off guard, knock me over, and kick me while I'm down. Every week! You'd think I'd be ready for it, but I never seem to expect it. And that is why Fridays suck.

My Ninth Post

I made cookies today-- a whole batch. They turned out well, which was a big relief, since my chocolate chip cookies are rather finicky. Now I have to figure out what to do with them.

I also watched A Beautiful Mind today. It made me think about my life-- I will never be considered for the Nobel Prize. But I’ve come to terms with that; I'm sure I’ll have other accomplishments to show for my life. The problem with accomplishments is that they expire too soon. All of the hard work I did in high school is completely meaningless now. Who cares what I scored on my ACT or what my GPA was? Things that I did when I was 17 have no significance in my world now. I wish I could hang onto those things for just a little while longer. But, I guess it's better this way. Now I have to work hard in what I'm doing right now-- to try to achieve bigger and better things. Maybe I wouldn't be motivated to work for those things if my ego continued to be placated by my past accomplishments. Despite what I may pretend, I do a lot of things to receive recognition from others. That’s not the only reason I do things, but it certainly is a contributing factor. So I was right in saying that my ego motivates me. It’s constantly screaming for some proof that I’m superior to others in some way. And lately, it hasn’t been getting much proof. Oh well, just more motivation to do better.

I like the titles of my posts-- that I define each post as mine. I especially like the possessive quality of ‘my’ because it helps to remind me that I’m not writing for anyone else. This belongs to me, and only me. It's mine.

My Eighth Post

I have a problem with scheduling my time. For example, I estimate it will take me 5 hours to do all the reading I have for one week. I then decide that I can do all of that on Thursday afternoon. In my spare time throughout the week, I do things I want to do (cook, watch TV, surf around online, etc.) Then on Thursday morning, I enjoy sleeping in, taking my time to eat breakfast and get ready. I'm all set to study about noon. I pull out my books, and work for about 2 hours. Then I realize that I have to go to work at 3. So I only get about 1/2 of my reading done for the week. This is a bad way to manage my time, I know. But I have no current plans to change my ways. Isn't that sad?

My Seventh Post

Valentine's Day, 2006.

Oh dear. I wish I had something to do today... anything to do. I don't have class, or work, or any commitments at all today. So it makes me feel like doing something for Valentine's Day. Maybe I will make cookies.

I called Mom this morning... she was worried about my housing payment or something. Anyway, it was good to talk to her even if she tends to do most of the talking. I don't really mind that, because I rarely have anything interesting to say on the phone.

Anyway. I'm going to go find something to do. But more likely, I'm going to go be lazy some more.

My Sixth Post

Sunday. Again. This was a good Sunday, though (at least so far). I went to church, got there 10 minutes early (with C-- the Bishop feigned shock to see her there so early). C was nauseous, and I ended up walking her home a little before the end of Sacrament meeting. Then I had a choice. I had a legitimate excuse for not going back to church-- I was worried about C and wanted to make sure she wasn't alone if she got really sick. But on the other hand, C was just going to go to sleep and would in all likelihood be fine. So I went back to church (after changing out of my heels-- I wasn't about to make that walk again with those shoes on). I was just in time for Relief Society-- it was a decent lesson. I sat by some of my FHE sisters in Sunday School-- we weren't the most reverent, but we did listen to/enjoy the lesson. So, good day.

My mom and my sister, M, sent me packages this week. M sent me her South Pacific DVD that she decided she didn’t want. Also, she’s letting me borrow the second season of Scrubs. I told my mom she needed to send me a Valentine’s Day Care package, so she sent me a box filled with candy, rice crispy treats, and (randomly) nylons. I immediately put the candy out for my roommates to enjoy—I certainly don’t need it. And I wore the nylons to church today.

I hate the word pantyhose. I hate, hate, hate it.

Oh! I saw Aida with H yesterday. So good! I forgot how much I miss being involved with shows. I really miss those good old set building days from high school. I miss the energy that exists backstage during a production. I felt an urgent need to eat sugar cubes (a high school tradition for the opening night of a show—-eat as many sugar cubes as you can handle and convince those who don’t want to eat them that it's bad luck not to) I was almost giggling at the beginning of the show, imagining what the cast was doing backstage—-H thought I was crazy and kept giving me strange looks.

Going to bed early and waking up at a reasonably hour is a good thing. It’s really helped me enjoy this week—-and get homework done! Yay!

My Fifth Post

Today has been an awesome day. I attribute its awesomeness to me going to bed last night. I was going to stay up and watched Alias, but H came in after about 15 minutes to study at the table. Grrr. We've had this conversation before. She feels the need to study at the table because she falls asleep when she's in her bedroom. Fine, but she tends to make people feel weird when they're watching TV and she's reading the scriptures. So instead of feeling awkward, I gave in and went to bed. Before midnight! And then I woke up in enough time to take a shower and actually get read for work. And I felt pretty because I was wearing a skirt. And I felt awesome becasue I had a stimulating coversation with my supervisor. And I just felt great in general. Then I came home. Things dropped off a little bit, because I started watching TV with one of my roommates. I was supposed to do homework/reading today. But I haven't as of yet. I'm going to a birthday party for a former roommate tonight. I'm actually excited. But that means I should get some homework done now before I have to go. Yay for awesome days. It makes me feel like I'm not as scewed up as I sometimes think I am.

My Fourth Post

Today is Monday, and I'm screwed. Remember those two essays I had to write? Well, I didn't do one of them. The plan was to do it over the weekend and then turning it in for reduced credit. But I didn't end up doing it. Stupid me. Now I can't miss anything in that class. I might not even be able to get an A anymore. So much for that. But, I won't give up. Not I, I am willing to go the distance. Or at least I'm willing to try. It upsets me.

Yesterday was Sunday again. I felt an overwhelming sense of unhappiness and dissatisfaction with my life. I don't know where that's coming from, really. I've evaluated all of the aspects of my life, and it's really not that bad. In fact, it's good. Yet, I feel slightly depressed about life. I'm going to blame H. Maybe I've been spending too much time around her. She is never satisfied with life. It seems that she's constantly upset about something, and trying to let me know exactly how sad her life is. You know, I don't mind if she wants to express her feelings and thoughts to me. I'm okay with that. I don't want her to bottle up all her woes and have an enormous case of self-pity. She's allowed to bring things up. But I wish she would express them more directly. For example, she might want to talk about how her past boyfriend treated her badly. Okay, fine, we can talk about that. But a lot of the time, she just wants to talk so she can dwell on bad experiences. That's not going to help her, and it's going to drive me nuts until I just don't want to talk with her anymore. So maybe I was lying when I said I wanted her to express herself. I don't know. I wish I were a better friend.

Last night, we were doing some homework together, and I was, as previously explained, in a rather despondent mood. We look at the first problem, and she says: "I don't know how to do this. (a few minutes pass…) I really don't know what to do. (another minute…) Do you know what to do? (...) What are you doing?" I just wanted to scream at her! During this whole conversation, I was flipping through the book trying to find some hint of how to solve the problem, and I was finding nothing. Naturally, this was frustrating to me. Put that together with my bad attitude, and the fact that I didn't want to be doing homework. I was inexplicably pissed at H. I'm sorry, dear. I'm trying to be better, but it takes a long time to change.

I had breakfast with A, T, J and B last Saturday. M decided not to come. B thinks it was a good decision, and I think I agree. T is now engaged. Funny, because she was the last one any of us though would get married. J was as J-like as ever. She couldn’t stop talking about all the boys she's dating. She even told us that she's not accepting first dates this month. Return customers only, I guess. It was a good experience, I guess. I wish I could just love those girls without holding back, but I really can't think of them without thinking about what we put each other through.

Why am I not dating? I have even been putting some extra effort into putting myself "out there," but no takers as of yet. Maybe it's just as well. I doubt I could handle the time and emotional requirements.

My Third Post

I was stupid last night. I stayed up until 3am talking to my roommates for no good reason (other than not wanting to go to sleep). I knew I had to work this morning, so I set my alarm and finally went to sleep. I woke up ten minutes after I was supposed to be at work! I may have set the alarm, but I didn’t actually turn it on! I jumped out of bed, and threw off my clothes while digging in my closet for my black pants and some socks. I barely even had a shirt on as I ran out the front door. What a way to start a busy day. Now I need to write two essays based on a lot of reading that I never actually did. Let’s hope I can BS it a little without it becoming obvious. I really have a lot of work to do, so I’d better get to it.

My Second Post

Today is Sunday. For some reason, I have never really enjoyed Sundays here in Provo. I probably feel this way because I have had very few “good” ones to balance out all the blazè ones. Or maybe it’s because of the spiritual digression that I feel I have gone through since coming to BYU. The basic idea would be that I don’t like church as much; therefore, I don’t like Sunday as much. That’s a thought I don’t like to admit very often. If I admit that I’m not as spiritual as I was in high school, then I’m admitting that I have digressed. I don’t like to digress. Why did I work so hard to be good and build up a testimony if I can’t benefit from it now? I thought the idea was that you work hard to build up strength so that it will be there when you’re tested. Maybe I just got so complacent in having my testimony that it leaked away while I wasn’t looking? I’m not saying that I’m a bad person or anything. I believe in the gospel, I do my calling, I go to church and meetings and everything, but I do very little on the personal side of it. I know I should have personal prayer and scripture study, but honestly, 90% of the time I just forget. And that makes me feel bad when I remember how often I forget. I like to hide all of this away underneath a mask of stalwart strength. Which makes it hard to explain to my roommates why I’m so moody on Sundays. I guess I just have to work toward building up my testimony again… but the big question is whether taking my mask off will help the process or just make me unnecessarily exposed. Is it wrong to fake it ‘til you make it? I hope not, ‘cause that’s my current plan.

My First Post

The other day at work, this guy I work with needed me to do something gross. It was totally part of my job, but that doesn't mean I couldn't give him a hard time about asking me to do it. Our conversation went a little something like this:

Co-worker: [gives me puppy dog eyes]
Me: "how can you ask me to do that? I don't think you even know my name."
Co-worker: "yes I do."
Me: "Uh-huh… what is it, then?"
Co-worker: "what other name do you need than beautiful?"
Me: "..." [Completely caught off-guard and speechless]
Me: "Okay, I’ll do it. Just a minute"

Honestly, after that, I would have done anything if that guy asked me to. It was just so sweet. Even though I know he was just teasing me to get me to do something, it still felt really good to be called beautiful by a complete stranger. That doesn't happen nearly often enough.