I like chocolate milk, but I seldom buy it. I was grocery shopping yesterday, and in a last minute impulse buy, I picked up a half gallon of chocolate milk. When the cashier (I detest self checkout lanes) informed me that my total came to $15.00, I took it as a sign that buying the chocolate milk was the right thing to do. After all, if I hadn’t bought it, my total would have come to something lame like $12.92, and I would have missed the opportunity to pay exactly $15.00 for my groceries. And really, that’s probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. So don’t judge me.
The real tragedy was when I got home and realized I didn’t have any bendy straws. Luckily, krebscout was able to lend me a few so that I could truly enjoy my chocolate milk.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
My One-hundred-and-twentieth Post
A few days ago, I received a package from home. Since all of my family was at home for Labor Day except me, they took pictures of all of the fun stuff they did. Then they sent me the pictures along with something to represent each activity (i.e., microwave popcorn to represent going to the movies). My mom claims it was to let me know they missed me, but Martin reassures me it was just to rub it in. In any case, isn't my family great?
Also, I've been thinking a lot lately about charity. Mostly about how uncharitable I am. If someone says something a little bit on the edge of doctrine during a Sunday school lesson, I silently scoff at their ideas. If someone says something very mainstream, I will mock them for being clichè. There's really no way to escape my scorn if you're speaking out loud in my presence.
Interestingly enough, I don't think it's all my fault. Instead, I blame all of you*. That's right, You. I get to listen to your rants about idiotic people who give horrible lessons that reference Chicken Soup For the Soul more often than the actual material in the manuals. I laugh along with you at your humorous stories about people who manage to find the exceptions to the "there are no stupid questions" rule. I see you when you roll your eyes and complain that all ward activities are lame. Now in most cases, I agree with you. I see your point. But here's the problem: I probably respect you a lot, and I probably crave your approval. If you think an activity is lame, there's no way I'm going to want to go. If you mention something negative about a lesson, I'm going to find it difficult to see the positive things about future lessons. I've been carefully honing this skill for several years now, and it turns out, it's a really hard habit to break.
I've pretty much stopped enjoying my church meetings and become very cynical (or uncharitable) about the whole thing. Now, really, I can't blame you all for this. It's really my fault, and ultimately, my problem. But I think it might help me out a little bit if we all try to be just a little bit more charitable.
I don't want you to censor yourself just because I'm around. But in talking with some of you, I find a spiritual side of you I was previously unaware of. Can we maybe let this shine through a little more often? Emphasize the good things more than the ridiculous? Share the important spiritual stuff instead of tucking it away behind a façade of humorous anecdotes? Please? This is important.
Thank you for your time,
&etc.
* This is, of course, much easier than blaming myself. Please forgive my momentary weakness.
Also, I've been thinking a lot lately about charity. Mostly about how uncharitable I am. If someone says something a little bit on the edge of doctrine during a Sunday school lesson, I silently scoff at their ideas. If someone says something very mainstream, I will mock them for being clichè. There's really no way to escape my scorn if you're speaking out loud in my presence.
Interestingly enough, I don't think it's all my fault. Instead, I blame all of you*. That's right, You. I get to listen to your rants about idiotic people who give horrible lessons that reference Chicken Soup For the Soul more often than the actual material in the manuals. I laugh along with you at your humorous stories about people who manage to find the exceptions to the "there are no stupid questions" rule. I see you when you roll your eyes and complain that all ward activities are lame. Now in most cases, I agree with you. I see your point. But here's the problem: I probably respect you a lot, and I probably crave your approval. If you think an activity is lame, there's no way I'm going to want to go. If you mention something negative about a lesson, I'm going to find it difficult to see the positive things about future lessons. I've been carefully honing this skill for several years now, and it turns out, it's a really hard habit to break.
I've pretty much stopped enjoying my church meetings and become very cynical (or uncharitable) about the whole thing. Now, really, I can't blame you all for this. It's really my fault, and ultimately, my problem. But I think it might help me out a little bit if we all try to be just a little bit more charitable.
I don't want you to censor yourself just because I'm around. But in talking with some of you, I find a spiritual side of you I was previously unaware of. Can we maybe let this shine through a little more often? Emphasize the good things more than the ridiculous? Share the important spiritual stuff instead of tucking it away behind a façade of humorous anecdotes? Please? This is important.
Thank you for your time,
&etc.
* This is, of course, much easier than blaming myself. Please forgive my momentary weakness.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
My One-hundred-and-ninteenth Post
So sometimes, when I'm on a public computer, I start typing in my blog address, and I'm really surprised when it doesn't pop up as a recently visited site. Heh. Apparently my subconscious has an inflated perception of the popularity of my blog.
Anyway. It has been a rough couple of days. Work has been very crazy and I have been working very long hours all week at Job #2 (and it's not over yet). I almost cried yesterday when my confused coworker informend me that it was Tuesday, not Thursday as I had thought. On top of that, Drazi quit last week, so I am the only supervisor left in my area at Job #1. My poor trainees have been working there all week only quasi-knowing how everything is supposed to work. They're doing a great job, but I wish I wasn't working quite so much at Job #2 this week... it would give me more time to train people before fall semester starts.
The best things about yesterday (in no particular order):
- Rasberry cheesecake
- Seeing krebscout in unexpected places
- A letter from BonBon, "my missionary"
- Bruschetta (one of my most favoite foods in the world)
- Getting to go to sleep before midnight
Monday, August 20, 2007
My One-hundred-and-eighteenth Post
So sometimes I'm running late, and the easiest thing to do with my wet hair it to twist it up into a bun and secure it with an elastic band. I feel frumpy all day when I do this.
But I've recently discovered a viable alternative! If I take an extra minute to pin my hair up into a bun, it makes me feel instantly classy and self-assured all day. Hurrah!
But I've recently discovered a viable alternative! If I take an extra minute to pin my hair up into a bun, it makes me feel instantly classy and self-assured all day. Hurrah!
My One-hundred-and-seventeenth Post
So right now, I'm scared to go "home."
It's ridiculous that I'm so afraid of change that I've been staying with my friend Hamburger instead of going "home" and unpacking and getting to know my new roommates. I think I'm just afraid of what a huge change this is going to be for me. Ugh.
So I should just go "home" right now... but tomorrow is Hamburger's birthday, and I promised to make her breakfast. So maybe I'll stay one more night...
It's ridiculous that I'm so afraid of change that I've been staying with my friend Hamburger instead of going "home" and unpacking and getting to know my new roommates. I think I'm just afraid of what a huge change this is going to be for me. Ugh.
So I should just go "home" right now... but tomorrow is Hamburger's birthday, and I promised to make her breakfast. So maybe I'll stay one more night...
Thursday, August 02, 2007
My One-hundred-and-sixteenth Post
I saw a friend of mine do this, and it seemed like a good idea. Here are the ABCs of my summer:
A is for adventures I’ve gone on.
B is for books I have read without feeling guilty for wasting time.
C is for cell phones, which make it possible for Faybe to text me non-stop.
D is for Drazi, who makes going to work easier (and maybe somebody else, too).
E is for electric bills being sky high.
F is for flowers blooming everywhere.
G is for the Grand Canyon, where I had a lot of fun with family.
H is for Harry Potter.
I is for ice cream, there’s really nothing better for hot summer days.
J is for Jequirity, my blog.
K is for kite flying, which has yet to happen, but hopefully will soon.
L is for lightening, which reminds me of home.
M is for movie nights, the staple of my social calendar.
N is for napping—it never gets old!
O is for orange pepper carving—like pumpkins, but better.
P is for pond swimming, the best kind there is.
Q is for quiet time in the mornings when no one else is home.
R is for rainstorms on warm days.
S is for shish kabobs on the grill!
T is for twenty-one, the age I will soon be turning.
U is for unusual people I’ve gotten to know.
V is for vehicles, both krebscout’s and Hamburger’s… they make my life easier.
W is for working, which makes my life possible.
X is for x-ray vision: I’ve totally got it.
Y is for you, who have probably had some sort of impact on my life this summer.
Z is for zebras, which (I'm sure you agree) are amazing.
A is for adventures I’ve gone on.
B is for books I have read without feeling guilty for wasting time.
C is for cell phones, which make it possible for Faybe to text me non-stop.
D is for Drazi, who makes going to work easier (and maybe somebody else, too).
E is for electric bills being sky high.
F is for flowers blooming everywhere.
G is for the Grand Canyon, where I had a lot of fun with family.
H is for Harry Potter. I is for ice cream, there’s really nothing better for hot summer days.
J is for Jequirity, my blog.
K is for kite flying, which has yet to happen, but hopefully will soon.
L is for lightening, which reminds me of home.
M is for movie nights, the staple of my social calendar.
N is for napping—it never gets old!
O is for orange pepper carving—like pumpkins, but better.
P is for pond swimming, the best kind there is.
Q is for quiet time in the mornings when no one else is home.
R is for rainstorms on warm days.
S is for shish kabobs on the grill!
T is for twenty-one, the age I will soon be turning.
U is for unusual people I’ve gotten to know.
V is for vehicles, both krebscout’s and Hamburger’s… they make my life easier.
W is for working, which makes my life possible.X is for x-ray vision: I’ve totally got it.
Y is for you, who have probably had some sort of impact on my life this summer.
Z is for zebras, which (I'm sure you agree) are amazing.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
My One-hundred-and-fifteenth Post
I know I haven't blogged very much recently. I really don't feel like writing anything new right now, so instead of a thoughtful and humorous blog entry, I offer you the contents of a word document that's been sitting on the bottom of my screen for a week or so. I don't know what else to do with it.
Two girls stood outside the theater in the sparse shade offered by a nearby tree. The sun glared off the sidewalk, causing the taller girl to squint as she looked down at her friend.
“They’re going to let me take trig/pre-cal next year,” she said, suddenly.
The shorter girls eyes lit up. “Really? That’s awesome, Rhiannon! Maybe we’ll be in the same class. What period are you taking it?”
“Um… actually, I’m… I’m not going to Sabino."
The shorter girl’s eyes clouded over in confusion. “UHS? I thought you were on the wait list.”
“Yeah. They called last week to let me know I got in,” she said guardedly. “I wonder where Allison is.” Rhiannon turned to search the parking lot for Mrs. Brown’s little VW Rabbit. “She’s going to go to UHS, too,” she added casually.
“I know. She told me that the last week of school. ”
The girls stood there in silence for a short while. Rhiannon continued to watch the traffic on the street in front of the theater while the shorter girl surreptitiously tried rearrange her shirt into a more flattering position. A slight breeze temporarily alleviated the heat rising up off the sidewalk, causing Rhiannon to glance up at the sky. “Do you think it’ll rain?” she asked her friend, hopefully.
Her friend jumped at this sudden question. “Probably not,” she predicted, casually tucking her bra strap out of sight. “It usually doesn’t rain until the beginning of July, so we’ve still got a few weeks of this heat.”
“I’m never going to get used to summers here,” Rhiannon complained.
“You’ve been here for three years! You’d think you be used to it by now. I think that’s Allison,” she said pointing to a car turning into the parking lot.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
My One-hundred-and-fourteenth Post
Just for you, a recap of how I first read each of the Harry Potter books:
1&2: I had heard about the books from one of my teachers who had been reading the first book aloud to one of her classes. When I saw them for sale at Costco, I talked my mom into buying the first two. (This would have been in 1999, just after book 3 was released. I was 13)
3: Martin and I had devoured the first two books, so we were very happy when my mom brought home the third book a few weeks later. I was very excited, and in order to ensure that the book would be "mine," I promised Martin she could read it first if it could belong to me. After we made this agreement, I found out my mom had bought the book for me, and it would have been mine no matter what. I started reading the book whenever my sister put it down, creating issues when we both wanted to read it at the same time. One night, I was babysitting a neighbor kid, so I had brought the book with me. Martin showed up at the house, demanding the book back.
4: This was the first of the books that I actually read on the day it was released. I woke up that morning, convinced my mom to give me the cash, and then had to beg my brother, Menace, into driving me to get it (we ended up going to a little toy/bookstore nearby).
5: For book 5, my mom ordered the book online, for same day delivery. It was supposed to get to the house by 10am, so I slept on the couch, so I could be the first to see the delivery person when it came. It didn't come before 10, though. In fact, by 2pm, I was very distraught. Luckily, pretty much all of my siblings were into the books by this time, so my parents figured it was worth it to buy a second copy. My dad went out, and returned home triumphant with the book by about 3pm. The other copy didn't come until about 6pm that night. I took the book and pretty much read it all night, falling asleep just before 6am, then getting up at 7:30am to finish the book, and go to church at 9am. Martin was forced to read aloud to the rest of my family for the next week or so, so they could all hear it at the same time, instead of fighting over it.
6: This came out the summer after my freshman year of college. I was home that summer, so I was able to take full advantage of the situation. I illegally stocked my bedroom with wheat thins, licorice, fruit snacks, and Pringles. I had carefully timed my sleep schedule so that I could stay up as long as necessary. I also finally convinced my parents to put a locking doorknob on my door. I went to sleep at about 9pm. My mom and older brother went to good ol' Wal-Mart just after midnight, and left my copy of the book outside my bedroom door. When I woke up at 6am the next morning, I was able to open the door, squeal in delight, and seclude myself in my room until I was finished reading.
7: I’m not sure exactly how this will go down. I’ll be at the Grand Canyon this weekend, so it might get a bit complicated. As near as I can tell, it pretty much involves me, Martin, and Mean Mommy (and perhaps a brother or two) ditching out on our family reunion, and driving for an hour out to Flagstaff in the middle of the night to pick up several copies we’ve reserved at the local Barnes & Noble. Martin will most likely be forced to read aloud to us for the drive back (I can’t read while driving… stupid car sickness) to the campsite. Then my mom has promised to bring us each our own personal light sources so that we can retire to the “reading tent” and not run down the batteries in the cars. There will be a Harry Potter breakfast the following morning, and it is likely that Martin will once again be forced to read aloud to the younger kids (because she’s so good with the voices “Hawy!"). Hoorah!
1&2: I had heard about the books from one of my teachers who had been reading the first book aloud to one of her classes. When I saw them for sale at Costco, I talked my mom into buying the first two. (This would have been in 1999, just after book 3 was released. I was 13)
3: Martin and I had devoured the first two books, so we were very happy when my mom brought home the third book a few weeks later. I was very excited, and in order to ensure that the book would be "mine," I promised Martin she could read it first if it could belong to me. After we made this agreement, I found out my mom had bought the book for me, and it would have been mine no matter what. I started reading the book whenever my sister put it down, creating issues when we both wanted to read it at the same time. One night, I was babysitting a neighbor kid, so I had brought the book with me. Martin showed up at the house, demanding the book back.
4: This was the first of the books that I actually read on the day it was released. I woke up that morning, convinced my mom to give me the cash, and then had to beg my brother, Menace, into driving me to get it (we ended up going to a little toy/bookstore nearby).
5: For book 5, my mom ordered the book online, for same day delivery. It was supposed to get to the house by 10am, so I slept on the couch, so I could be the first to see the delivery person when it came. It didn't come before 10, though. In fact, by 2pm, I was very distraught. Luckily, pretty much all of my siblings were into the books by this time, so my parents figured it was worth it to buy a second copy. My dad went out, and returned home triumphant with the book by about 3pm. The other copy didn't come until about 6pm that night. I took the book and pretty much read it all night, falling asleep just before 6am, then getting up at 7:30am to finish the book, and go to church at 9am. Martin was forced to read aloud to the rest of my family for the next week or so, so they could all hear it at the same time, instead of fighting over it.
6: This came out the summer after my freshman year of college. I was home that summer, so I was able to take full advantage of the situation. I illegally stocked my bedroom with wheat thins, licorice, fruit snacks, and Pringles. I had carefully timed my sleep schedule so that I could stay up as long as necessary. I also finally convinced my parents to put a locking doorknob on my door. I went to sleep at about 9pm. My mom and older brother went to good ol' Wal-Mart just after midnight, and left my copy of the book outside my bedroom door. When I woke up at 6am the next morning, I was able to open the door, squeal in delight, and seclude myself in my room until I was finished reading.
7: I’m not sure exactly how this will go down. I’ll be at the Grand Canyon this weekend, so it might get a bit complicated. As near as I can tell, it pretty much involves me, Martin, and Mean Mommy (and perhaps a brother or two) ditching out on our family reunion, and driving for an hour out to Flagstaff in the middle of the night to pick up several copies we’ve reserved at the local Barnes & Noble. Martin will most likely be forced to read aloud to us for the drive back (I can’t read while driving… stupid car sickness) to the campsite. Then my mom has promised to bring us each our own personal light sources so that we can retire to the “reading tent” and not run down the batteries in the cars. There will be a Harry Potter breakfast the following morning, and it is likely that Martin will once again be forced to read aloud to the younger kids (because she’s so good with the voices “Hawy!"). Hoorah!
Saturday, July 14, 2007
My One-hundred-and-thirteenth Post
I don’t think we should blame others when things go wrong, and I’d like to think I’m okay with the “buck” stopping here. But… does that mean I have to pretend I’m an idiot?
Somebody I was working with today managed to make a huge mess while trying to show off for me (I’ve gone over it several times in my head… but really, there isn’t any other explanation for what he was doing). Anyway, I sent him off to work in another area so I could fix things up. Several people (including a couple of my supervisors) came by, and asked about what I was doing. I had decided that I was absolutely not going to say “So-and-so did this,” because, really, I should have been more aware of what he was doing and told him to knock it off. Anyway, I just ended up explaining what had happened in ambiguous terms. But I know they all think it was me who did it.
Sigh. Responsibility sucks.
Somebody I was working with today managed to make a huge mess while trying to show off for me (I’ve gone over it several times in my head… but really, there isn’t any other explanation for what he was doing). Anyway, I sent him off to work in another area so I could fix things up. Several people (including a couple of my supervisors) came by, and asked about what I was doing. I had decided that I was absolutely not going to say “So-and-so did this,” because, really, I should have been more aware of what he was doing and told him to knock it off. Anyway, I just ended up explaining what had happened in ambiguous terms. But I know they all think it was me who did it.
Sigh. Responsibility sucks.
Friday, July 13, 2007
My One-hundred-and-twelfth Post
Unfulfilled Promises
About that political post I was working on… I got scared. It's just going to sit in my drafts folder forever, 'cause I know I'm never going to finish it. I was writing about a recent Supreme Court ruling. It was mostly my internal struggle between liking my First Amendment rights, and wanting my government to be less corrupt. But really, who says I have to choose? (Besides, the Supreme Court is really good at making those decisions for me.)
Harry Potter
One of the problems I've been having lately is that I spent one summer a couple of years ago reading some (quite excellent) Harry Potter fan fiction. Now I get mixed up about whether something really happened in the books, or whether it was just in a story I'd read. So... that sucks.
Angst
I hate my job. It just has me completely burnt out. I was just sitting there last Thursday as the last vestiges of affection I had for my job slipped away. All of the benefits—the friends, the monetary compensation, the feelings of accomplishment, etc.—suddenly stopped outweighing the costs—the late nights, the unappealing work, the unpredictability of it, the suckiness of it. I should quit. But the other two supervisors are going to be quitting soon as well. If we all leave, things will be harder for the people I leave behind. And I’m not sure whether I can do that. Besides, I have a sneaking suspicion that I don’t actually hate my job. But I did Thursday night. Boy howdy, did I ever.
About that political post I was working on… I got scared. It's just going to sit in my drafts folder forever, 'cause I know I'm never going to finish it. I was writing about a recent Supreme Court ruling. It was mostly my internal struggle between liking my First Amendment rights, and wanting my government to be less corrupt. But really, who says I have to choose? (Besides, the Supreme Court is really good at making those decisions for me.)
Harry Potter
One of the problems I've been having lately is that I spent one summer a couple of years ago reading some (quite excellent) Harry Potter fan fiction. Now I get mixed up about whether something really happened in the books, or whether it was just in a story I'd read. So... that sucks.
Angst
I hate my job. It just has me completely burnt out. I was just sitting there last Thursday as the last vestiges of affection I had for my job slipped away. All of the benefits—the friends, the monetary compensation, the feelings of accomplishment, etc.—suddenly stopped outweighing the costs—the late nights, the unappealing work, the unpredictability of it, the suckiness of it. I should quit. But the other two supervisors are going to be quitting soon as well. If we all leave, things will be harder for the people I leave behind. And I’m not sure whether I can do that. Besides, I have a sneaking suspicion that I don’t actually hate my job. But I did Thursday night. Boy howdy, did I ever.
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