Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Constantly Losing

The following is a true account of me making small talk with a girl in my institute class. She mentioned she was excited she was looking forward to watching the Superbowl with her family.

Please note that I would never have continued the football discussion had she not brought it up herself.

Me: So, are you rooting for the Falcons or the Patriots?

Girl: I don't even know who's playing.

Me: *Silently blinking at her and wondering once again why I try to connect with people.*

I don't get people. I literally just told her, in my question, who was playing and she still couldn't name one team that will be playing in this Superbowl!  I'm not a die hard football fan by any means, despite the efforts of my wonderful Bears 101 professor who tried his hardest to teach me the finer points of the game, but really that question didn't require a whole lot of football knowledge. If any...

Note: I passed my Bears 101 course and have become a committed Chicago Bears fan (committed in that they are my favorite team besides the Dillon Panthers... and  also committed in the fact that it allows me to have something sporty and interesting to talk about on dates :) )

Cartoons Have Failed to Prepare Me for Adulthood

Comedian John Mulaney has quipped, "I always thought quicksand was gonna be a much bigger problem than it turned out to be. You watch cartoons and quicksand is like the third biggest thing you have to worry about, behind actual sticks of dynamite and giant anvils falling on you from the sky."

TRUTH.

Another truth that  cartoons failed me on: I expected every doctor to wear the headband with the large silver disk on it.  Like a medical headdress.

Does that thing even have a name?

Update: typing in "doctor metal" in Google brought up a predictive search of "doctor metal disc head" and "doctor metallic grand rapids"

Note: I am glad that the internet has once again confirmed that I am not alone in my obscure searches.

Note 2: If Dr. Metallic is a real name, that is AWESOME!

Update: just clicked on "doctor metal disc head" and according to Wikipedia it is called a "head mirror." How disappointingly uncool.

Well, something that IS cool is that after 27 years, I finally had a doctor who had one of those metal disc headbands ( I am not on board with the term "head mirror." ).

Today I went to see an ENT about a perforated ear drum.  Yay! Allison's obscure and random medical issues continue!  My doctor, whose surname is unfortunately not Metallic, midway through the appointment put on the head mirror.

I was completely unprepared for this as no real doctor in my entire life has ever worn one! 

I soon discovered what it is used for!  I now have a name and a use for this doctorly instrument that was an ever present feature of all of my childhood cartoons.  The head mirror is used to distract the patient while the doctor shoves a giant tool of some sort unexpectedly up the patient's nose!  Holy scientific observation Allison!  

I know I was seeing an Ear NOSE and Throat specialist, but I was still unprepared for him to observe my nasal passages, mostly because he didn't give me any warning.  I would appreciate a little commentary of what he was doing and why. The guy's lucky I wasn't laughing at the unexpected appearance and ridiculousness of the head mirror-or I guess I'm lucky I wasn't laughing as throwing my head back in laughter at the wrong moment could have caused some serious sinus damage for me (and some serious malpractice issues for him).

He then proceeded to check my throat, which I was slightly more prepared for after the assault on my nose, but as I write this, I am left wondering if an ENT has to check out the Ear, Nose, and Throat in that exact order.  Is that part of the Hippocratic oath? There's obviously so much that I am unaware of when it comes to the medical field.

But, soon I will learn more as I have another appointment lined up, as well as the possibility of surgery to put a tube in my ear (because the random health problems continue to exacerbate and apparently I am five years old..).

In the meantime, if you need me, I will be giving myself a headache as I bobblehead my way through life the next couple of weeks watching out for anvils falling from the sky and alternatively trying to avoid quicksand.

Scary Times

It's almost Halloween--so a scary post feels appropriate.  Earlier this year I decided to check out some dating apps (cue Psycho scream).

There's definitely been some highs and lows and I've taken numerous breaks from said apps, but it is surprising how entertaining these apps are.  People are fascinating. And crazy. So, so crazy.

The majority of men on these apps are completely undate-able, so I swipe easily through 98%, give great consideration to the other 2%, and end up swiping right on about .02%.  It's definitely hard to date on these apps if you have any standards at all.

But this time around, I thought I was doing a better job than usual. I had more matches, was feeling more confident, and my matches were actually responding to me (it's crazy/annoying/depressing how many people don't take the time to respond on these apps!).

I matched with this guy, we will call Jack.  Jack wasn't super responsive at first, which isn't very odd, but once we found out we both work for the same company we had more to chat about.  Then Jack stopped messaging me for a solid week. Fortunately (or unfortunately, considering the rest of the story)  I didn't stick with my if-they-don't-respond-in-48-hours-I-unmatch-them rule. It's a good rule.

Jack acted like a normal human being (as opposed to some of the other cretins I've swiped on) and apologized for not responding. His excuse wasn't great (it was simply that he wasn't very good about responding on the app), but then he redeemed himself by asking for my number and to become Facebook friends.  I agreed, and he was slightly more responsive, but not much.

Meanwhile, a  deal of a lifetime came across my computer screen and I bought tickets to go to the United Kingdom. This has been a lifetime dream of mine.

I knew from his dating profile that Jack had served a mission in Scotland for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and in a moment of womanly plotting I invited Jack out to dinner to pick his brain about Scotland.  I call this ploy "womanly plotting" because while I was definitely more excited to learn about Scotland from someone who had lived there for 2 years (especially because I would love to get off the beaten tourist trap path and experience more of the culture), if this dinner turned into something more than that would definitely be a win-win.

But, as is well documented in my life, win-win scenarios don't typically happen for me. And it didn't happen in this case.

The date was set a week out at his request, and the texting conversation was lacking. But, being more excited about Scotland than him, I didn't pursue anything (also, there just gets to be a point where if I'm the only person carrying the conversation, and he's not asking questions back, it's not worth it to pursue. That is, unless he can give me sweet tips about Scotland!). So we had no communication for about a week until about 10:30 the night before our date when the following conversation happened. Please note that his name has been changed to protect the Crazy.

So, fellas, it's best to let someone know you're dating someone at the time they ask you out, not when you are confirming a date.  Also, another tip, if a relationship does form in between the time a date is set and when the date occurs, please cancel.

Also, before you think me a completely terrible person, I wasn't trying to steal another girl's man. I counseled with friends, and while we definitely all thought his approach was uncool, it sounded like he was still dating around and it was okay for me to go out with him.

I am pleading my agreement in continuing to go on this date due to my inability to know how to react to awkward situations.  I keep getting put in beyond the norm awkward situations and I don't know how to react to normal awkward situations!  Also, at this point. Scotland was still heavily on my mind.  But the next day when he texted me 3 hours prior to the date to re-confirm (annoying since it had been less than 24 hours since he had asked me the same question) he made me rethink everything. This guy then proceeded to make me feel extra special by asking how long the date would take. Sheesh.

I know. I know. At this point the blame is on me because I didn't just cancel, but I had just finished re-reading "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People" and kept thinking that this guy just had a different paradigm from me and that he wasn't meaning to be offensive by asking how long he had to endure my presence (That's how I read his text, but if he didn't want to cancel, then he had to be coming from a different paradigm. Also, my paradigm was there was a small, small, small possibility this guy could be Mister Right, so I should just chance it). So, ultimately, this bad date experience rests solely upon Stephen Covey's shoulders.

I met up with Mr. Wonderful at the restaurant.  As soon as the menus arrived (not even the check, mind you), he asked if I was paying or if we were going Dutch.  Lovely manners.  I offered to pay since I had invited him, and he graciously accepted with a fist bump to my shoulder.

He immediately pulled out his phone and without any attempt to get to know each other he went straight into talking about Scotland.  But his means of telling me what I should do in Scotland was to look at his phone, Google stuff, and tell me to write it down. At that point I was way past considering this as a date in any way shape or form, but being told to write stuff down on a date was very grating. No mission stories, no advice on food or restaurants were shared, he literally just googled stuff--something that I could have done at a much lower cost to my pocketbook.

Mr. Awesome then proceeded to ask me my salary and how much I pay for my mortgage. I regret to inform you that I gave him approximate answers to these queries due to general astonishment that I was actually experiencing this level of social inappropriateness and not knowing how else to answer other than with the truth.

He then proceeded to tell me I was shy. Curious, because I was still trying to make an effort to talk to him and be engaging, I asked him why he thought that. He informed me it was because I had stopped messaging him.  I replied that there was nothing preventing him from asking me questions back or continuing the conversation..

I was then told that my lack of responsiveness is what lead him to start dating this other girl.

My loss.  I'm still heartbroken over it.

Seriously though, all I felt was gratitude that he had some other victim lined up and glad it wasn't me!

He then told me that I was beautiful. Admittedly I don't usually handle compliments well. I'm working on being more accepting of them, but this one, although it sounds nice, literally meant nothing to me because it came from such a repugnant source. The culmination of his texts leading up to the date and his behavior on the date made him completely undesirable in every way, shape, and form.

The saccharine speech continued with him telling me how great I was and how much he just wanted me to be happy, which prompted him to then ask if I would be willing to date guys who were shorter than me.

"I go more off of personality than looks," I replied.

His response was non-verbal and was just him spending the next ten minutes on his phone showing me pictures of his Facebook friends and asking me if I would go out with them.

Once again, not knowing how to respond to this unanticipated social awkwardness, I replied that if they were interested, I would be happy to go out with them. (Also, they weren't HIM, so really the answer was YES!).

Happily our time together came to a close. We walked down to the parking garage together, he oddly insisted on me texting him when I got home, despite my protests that I lived 2 minutes away.

Upon my joyful reunion with my condo, I immediately called mys sister and busted up laughing about the oddity that had just occurred.  It really was hilarious.  I then remembered to text him back. And despite his insistence on texting me when I got safely home, he didn't text back. No thank you, no good night, no nothing.

That is until 2 weeks later when he texted me. I didn't respond (but not because I'm shy). I'm assuming the attempt to reconnect was because the girl he had been dating wised up and moved on.

UPDATE: I was having a girl's night with a  good friend and we were swapping dating horror stories. I started telling her this story, and as soon as I said where he worked at, her  jaw dropped, she asked his name, and we discovered that she had been out with this same guy a couple of years ago in what was also a horrible experience. It was a pretty hilarious discovery!

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

My decision to serve a mission felt like I got broadsided by a 2X4 (God works in mysterious ways). Below is the intro to my two farewell talks regarding my decision to serve a mission (but I have added more details.  Random sidenote: so would this be considered a Clifford's notes version? i.e. the long version or opposite of "Cliff's Notes" haha.  That's probably not even funny, I am just super sleep deprived due to thoughts about my fast approaching mission keeping me awake).  I apologize for those who had to suffer through one (or both ) of my talks and are thus bothered with redundancy, but I felt the need to memorialize my decision to serve here on my blog: 

On February 17 of this year I found out that the Lord wanted me to serve a mission. I remember this date distinctly because it came as a big shock. I was visiting my parents for the weekend and was attending a session of stake conference with them.  During the meeting the impression came that I should serve a mission.  Now, normally I am pretty good at suppressing these kinds of crazy thoughts that pop into my brain.  However, in this instance even though I knew the thought of me serving a mission was insane, I had never had an impression hit me that hard before, and I knew that it was the Lord's will. And I started to cry. Profusely and uncontrollably. My poor sister sitting next to me kindly handed me tissue after tissue to help stem the Niagra Falls of tears that I was producing.  (On the plus side she thought I was really, really into the speakers, so that was good.) 

After the meeting I went to a private area and I prayed and turned to the scriptures to see if this crazy notion was indeed what the Lord wanted me to do.  At the suggestion of my wonderful mother, I had been participating in a 30 day "take a daily question to the scriptures challenge" from the book Change Your Questions, Change your Life, by Wendy Watson Nelson.  On that particular Sunday I was almost done with this challenge.  I felt the Spirit confirm to me after my prayer and study that I was to serve a mission, and then I read through my journal entries from the past several weeks of doing this challenge.  And the answers that I had received from the scriptures regarding questions I had about school and work and relationships, all pointed towards a mission, something that I, in my thickheadedness, had not noticed until that the prompting came in that session of Stake Conference.

After reading my scriptures and past journal entries, I went downstairs to tell Mom and Dad concerning the Lord's desire for me to serve a mission.  Once I saw my mother, I started bawling again.  Upon seeing my blubbering my Mother's face was one of pure panic.  I am not sure what was going through her mind, but I am pretty sure that she was in the beginning stages of cardiac arrest.  I was able to choke out that the Lord wanted me to serve a mission and that I was scared. Mom lead me into the living room and she held me as I cried. I told her how the impression had come to me during Stake Conference and how I had prayed about it and felt like I got a confirmation.  I didn't really talk too much because I was crying so hard and honestly it was such a shock.  After a while, I asked if we could pray together and we went into the other room and told Dad and asked him to pray with us.  Mom offered a prayed for me to have confidence in the promptings I had received and to have comfort and peace.  This prayer was answered, and has been numerous times since as I have prepared to serve my mission.

I contacted the ward clerk that night and set up an appointment with the bishop that week. This was done so quickly because I wanted to show the Lord that I would faithfully act on the promptings He gave me, and also I was hoping that my bishop would talk me out of this whole crazy mission idea. At the beginning, everything I did in preparing to serve a mission, including meeting with the bishop and going to the stake mission prep class, I did with the intent to be talked out of going with a mission--that never happened. In fact, these preparations only confirmed to me that I should serve a mission. 

Although I had received a confirmation of the decision to serve a mission, I still had concerns and worries and a lot of doubts.  I knew that the Lord wanted me to serve a mission,  but so many things seemed to argue against this fact, like I didn't want to go, I am a few years older than the 19 year old missionary,  I have a mortgage, I have a job and a life here,  and I try to avoid people rather than seek them out and share personal experiences with them. And included in this unending list of reasons why I didn't/couldn't/ or wouldn't serve a  mission was the fact that I really didn't want to give a talk in church.  Of all the concerns this was indeed one of the more ridiculous ones, but it was a very real concern.  God has a sense of humor though, first of all because I never had any desire to go on a mission and somehow he's gotten me ready and excited to go out into the field, and also because I not only have to give a talk in church, but I get to give two, in my single's ward and in my parents' ward.

The decision and preparation to serve a mission has been filled with trials and blessings.  It's been a rough road, but the Lord has been on my side and has strengthened and supported me.  Also, my wonderful family and friends have been such an amazing source of support, encouragement, and love.  I have been very blessed to be surrounded by such amazing people.  I am very grateful for the opportunity to serve the Lord and the people of California Rancho Cucamonga in T-minus 14 days!!!

Cupcake

I love cupcakes. They are yummy. They are cute. They are just all around fun.  And now they are an object lesson:

I Want to Be a Cupcake

I was tasty batter, that wanted to be free,

Free to be myself, and make the most of me.

"What do you want of life?" My maker asked of me.

"A yummy, yummy cupcake is what I want to be."

"You must have some guidelines, ' that's what I was told.

"For you cannot be a cupcake, unless you have a mold."

What? Live within the bounds of a simple paper ring?

Oh no, I"ll be a cupcake by doing my own thing.

"It's a lot of nonsense, " I told of friend of mind.

"I can live outside the mold and I will do just fine!"

"You may need those rules and laws, to be what you should be.

But I'm a better batter; those rules weren't meant for me."

So, the others started rising; so light, so round so neat.

While I oozed and dripped and fell apart; I couldn't take the heat.

And now the others are frosted, with pink sweet happiness.

I want to be a cupcake...for now I'm just a mess.

I am so grateful for the commandments that the Lord has given me for my protection.  They are such a blessing to me!

(I came across this poem as I've been packing up by apartment in preparation to go on my mission.  This poem was shared in my ward last summer. I don't know who the author is, and my attempts to discover the author have been unsuccessful.)

The Science and Economics of Snow Cones

I recently hung out with a group of friends and we decided to go get snow cones.  The particular snow cone shack was chosen because it always had a line and lots of people sitting at tables outside of the shack. Little did we know, that that was not a positive thing.

We waited probably 10 minutes in line before we were able to place our orders.  Part of the hold up was that this particular snow cone shack had a rewards program.  Really, it's a snow cone shack. I think that the cheap price and the fact that they are only available 3 months out of the year would be arguments against having a rewards program.  After I placed my order, I was informed that it would be a 15 minute wait (yep, you read that right).

The 15 minute wait (and it was indeed that long of a wait), was inexplicable considering that there were 4 employees in that shack, and of course due to the fact that the product is snow cones.  Admittedly there were options to have more than the typical two ingredients that comprise snow cones (shaved ice and flavored syrup), such as ice cream and sweetened condensed milk.  However, these additions could only have added 15 seconds to the preparation time.

This snow cone shack could not have been running more inefficiently or stupidly, which is ridiculous because they are snow cones NOT rocket science.  That comparison is ineffectual, it's too broad, but I am not going to even try to come up with better comparison because that would be more work than making a snow cone (probably would take less time to think of one though than to make a snow cone though, haha!)  They were making snow cones, there's really no margin for error because there's no possible way to err in making a snow cone (although they for sure tried their hardest by being so slow).  I failed to see the purpose of 4 employees, because they certainly weren't expediting a 30 second process, in fact quite the opposite.  The biggest slow-down was that they only had one shaved ice machine--but I didn't know how to kindly suggest that they get a few more ice machines and get rid of the extra staff.

Not only was it a super long wait for little payoff (I mean snow cones are good, but not a fifteen minute wait good), but I paid a pretty penny for that stupid snow cone.  They definitely have a high profit margin, although I guess they would need a high profit margin to pay for all the extra useless staff.

More Facebook Woes

Did you know that people can just add you into groups on Facebook, without your knowledge and/or permission?  This is something that I recently discovered by being added to two different groups within the past month.  At first I was okay with it, but then I started getting 100 updates from said groups. Per hour.

I feel like it is the real-world equivalent waking up to 1,000 strangers in your living room, having been invited there by one pseudo-friend. You have something in common with each of them, like say you're all going to be sister missionaries, but at the same time these people are still strangers, they are invading your personal space, and every 15 seconds someone says something really long-winded, pointless, and attention-seeking (I know, you'd think that these would definitely be my kind of people, but they are not).

It is, in a word, annoying.

I guess what these so-called friends are saying when they add me to some stupid group is that they don't want to be friends with me on Facebook anymore.  At least that's the message that I am getting loud and clear.

I'm not sure which is sadder, the fact that I am too lazy to figure out how to get out of this new group (I already removed myself from the first group to which I was unwillingly added to) or the fact that being added to these new groups hasn't chased me off of Facebook.

It's a Mall World After All (i.e.Awkward and Confusing)

I am going to serve an 18-month mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and my wardrobe needs to abide by certain standards. For example, the skirts that I will be wearing need to cover the knee while sitting and standing.  Now this is a tall order for anyone in this teeny-bopper style world that we live in, but it is an  even more difficult feat for someone over 6'0" tall, like myself.

Last week I went to the mall to see what I could find in the way of modest clothing. I went into a large department store and scoured the entire women's and junior's departments for suitable clothing for my mission.  I actually found some really cute things which were all on sale. I was pretty excited; so far this one store had proved more fruitful than a lot of other places I had visited.  Despite having thoroughly searched the entire department, I realized that I hadn't seen a dressing room.  Soon after this realization, one of the store employees came up to me and asked if I needed any help. I asked if she would direct me to the nearest fitting room.  I just wanted her to point, but she kindly led me to a fitting room, and I thanked her for her help.

After trying on my purchases, I walked out of the dressing room and there was a check-out counter right outside. I informed the new clerk that I needed to have a few items put back on the rack, and placed other items on the counter for her to ring me up.  She asked if anyone had helped me, and I said, "No."  She looked at me quizzically and asked again, and indicated in the direction of the first clerk who was about 50 feet away at a different register.  I informed the clerk that the first clerk had shown me to the dressing room, but had not helped me with finding clothing. She then proceeded to ring up my purchases.

Here's where the nightmare begins:

The original clerk came storming over to the check-out counter.  Her entire demeanor was viking-like; stern, scary, and in-your-face.  She asked, "Can I help you?" The words were nice, but her face and rigid posture indicated otherwise. The poor clerk who was checking me out, was obviously scared. She started saying again and again that she had asked me if I had already been helped by someone else.  Seeing that I had, (very unintentionally, I might add) caused some problems, I spoke up and said that the second clerk had indeed asked if I had been helped, and I had responded in the negative.

The first clerk/bully then stood right next her co-worker, stared me down, and then asked who I wanted to have ring up my purchases.  Now, it should be stated that I was not in a right state of mind due to lack of sleep and also a reading of this blog will show that I do not do well in awkward situations, which this most definitely was quickly becoming.  I didn't want to cause more problems for the second clerk, so I told the bully she could ring me up.  If I had known what would happen next, I would not have responded that way.  Because I had chosen to have Bully ring me up now, she had to take me halfway across the store to her register! It was beyond ridiculous. I was feeling so awkward that I didn't even think to ask for a manager, but I really regret not talking to the manager because Bully was completely out of line. Her customer service was horrible.

I do not normally shop in higher-end department stores like that ine, and was thus not aware that I couldn't just have anyone (i,e. the closest and most convenient person) ring me up.  On the other hand, I don't feel like Bully really went out of her way to earn commission off of my purchases (I didn't realize they worked off of commission until this unfortunate situation arose). I did appreciate her help in showing me to a dressing room, but if I hadn't need that aid, would she still have been bullying me and another clerk and claiming my sale as her own?  I think she probably would have.  I really hope that the second (and nice) clerk did not suffer any repercussions because I inadvertently made it look like she was stealing Bully's sale (which I really did all I could to clear up the confusion).  Despite my lack of knowledge regarding how higher end department stores function, I, as the customer (and also just as a human being), should not have been placed in that awkward situation of choosing who to check me out (I had thought I had already done that by going to the closest clerk...).  And then to have to walk 50 feet away to be checked out, when that process had already been started by the nice clerk was ridiculous.

So, I decided that I am not going back to that store anytime soon. (Unless by some miracle I am able to remember Bully's name, and then I am heading straight to a manager--it would definitely be worth the drive down to the mall just for that purpose.)

I was so frustrated that I walked out of the store to my car ready to go home.  Deciding that I really don't get to the mall too often and should see if any of the other department stores had modest clothing at decent prices (desperate times call for desperate measures--finding skirts that are long enough has been very difficult). I drove over to another department store and went in.  Amazing, I only encountered great customer service (which I personally account for the fact that these individuals do not work off of commission and thus don't have to have a piranha-like personality with coworkers and customers). I then wandered the mall in search of more great deals.

Other than the snafu at the first store, this shopping trip was wildly successful, that is until I decided to head home.  I completely forgot where I had parked! I had gotten so turned around in the mall (and did I mention I was lacking a lot of sleep?).  I was all alone, my phone was conveniently located in my car (not that I would have known who to call to help me in that particular situation anyways...), and I was exhausted and not thinking straight.  I remembered where my original parking space was (outside of Bully's store) and knew where my car was parked in location to that.  So, I had to navigate my way back to Bully's store and rush through it in an effort to avoid seeing her (because at that point I still wasn't thinking to talk to a manager.  Plus, I still felt so awkward and horrible about the whole situation.) and also because I had spent probably 20 minutes trying to find the correct mall exit to locate my car (I am a genius, what can I say?).  I then had to walk across the Siberean Desert (Ok, most people would call it a "parking lot" but at that point in my day it was just as large and as hot as the Siberean Desert).  Towards the end of my long, arduous journey, a mall security officer drove up in his vehicle (complete with lights), and asked if I needed help.  Mortified that I appeared to be in need of assistance (at which point I most definitely was not, because I could see my car two rows in front of me), and also because I figured he had probably seen me on security cameras in a tired, discombobulated, idiotic-like stupor trying to figure out how to find my car (Let's just say that in my attempts to find my car there was a lot of backtracking and some murmuring to myself, so there was no way that I could have appeared sane.).  Red-faced (from heat and embarrassment) I informed him that I had lost my car but I could now see it and he kindly went on his way.

So now I am really, really not going to the mall anytime soon (because that's the kind of footage that gets shown at mall security Christmas parties.)

Matchmaker

Yesterday I introduced myself to a new employee. His trainer was standing nearby when I did this,  and  decided to let the new guy know that I was single.  I had issues with this for a couple of reasons:

1. That particular day my appearance was a lot closer to a "Before" picture of a makeover than an "After" shot. Working with mostly women and special people and married people (and sometimes a combination of all three), there are not a lot of eligible men for me to be scoping out. So, admittedly I've gotten to a point where I don't particularly care about my appearance and probably resemble mug shot pictures while at work. To be fair though, I can't really do hair anyways, so even on my good days, things are not looking so good.  New guy was probably scared to death by the attempt to be matched with someone with stringy, fly-away hair and large bags under her eyes.

2. It's irritating for someone to assume that you are flirting with them, when  in reality you were just being nice and simply asking someone what their name is.  Perhaps this actually is flirting--it definitely would explain why none of the guys in my singles ward deign to talk to me.

3.  I cannot emphasize this one enough: Being single is not the only characteristic to take into account when attempting to set people up! I don't understand why so many people fail to  understand this.

4. I have working relationships with most, if not all, of my coworkers.  Thus, I do not feel like it was my coworker's place to be matchmaking.

5.  This matchmaking attempt was out of the blue and unexpected, probably because of all the reasons listed above.  I was not prepared to be singled out in this manner and so my eloquent response was "yep" whilst turning a beautiful hue of carmine, and then avoided eye contact with both matchmaker and my fellow victim of matchmaking for the rest of the day.

Unsurprisingly, this matchmaking attempt was unsuccessful.  Hopefully this will prevent my coworker from trying to play cupid again.

Happy April Fool's Day!

Do you want to know what the joke this year was?

The Weather.  

It was a downpour.  

Which normally I love...but guess who was the fool (as a result of the joke)..

Yep. Me. I'm the fool. I did a 5K...in a downpour.

It was cold, but really fun!

Please note the use of the verb "did" instead of "ran." I ran a little bit...walked more...gasped for air the majority of the time...prayed to make it up hills and to finish...got soaked to the bone...discovered I have arthritic knees---and yet did it all in a downpour, so I feel all hardcore (even though I mostly walked).

Birthday Girl

Today my coworkers surprised me with a lively rendition of "Happy Birthday" and yummy cupcakes. (It was even more of a surprise because its not actually my birthday--I'm taking the day off of work from my birthday, so we celebrated early).  I was even more surprised by how young everyone thought I was. Most people guessed 22, which I was pleased with.  (Not that I feel like being 24 is old, but I feel like sometimes people think I am older because I am tall. Not that height corresponds with age as much as it does during childhood, but I think some people still think this way; and it was nice to have people guess that I was younger than my age).

While I was being tortured, er...sung to, my boss came out of his office.  After the song was finished, he asked if I was now old enough to vote. It was unexpected from him, which made it even funnier.

Usually I hate celebrating my birthday when its not actually my birthday---but today was really fun and its been a great day!

Physical...Physical...I want to get a Physical Examination

It is apparently a tall order to get a physical examination from a qualified medical professional. I've needed to get a physical examination for about a month now...and its been quite the journey.  I don't have a doctor in  Salt Lake; I'm young and healthy and haven't needed to see one.  Upon learning that I needed to have a physical, I sought out a list of healthcare providers that accepted my insurance. I became highly discouraged after calling one doctor's office and finding out that while they are accepting new patients, as listed on their website, they were only accepting new patients who were referred by other patients.  This discouraged me on my hunt for a doctor, and I gave up. After several weeks had passed and I being reminded of why I needed a physical, I resumed my search.

I decided that the weird "only accepting referred patients" rule was probably in an effort to combat drug abuse and patients who are doctor shopping in order to get multiple prescriptions.  So, to prove to the world that I am not a drug abuser, I decided to get a referral. I asked a few people for the names of their doctors.  Even though I had been referred (to a different doctor's office this time), I was informed that to become a patient I had to fill out a health history form, submit it, and then the earliest appointment time for a new patient would be in eight weeks. Eight weeks!  Thank goodness I don't have the flu, or the plague, or my ever recurring sinus infections; or I'd be really out of luck and miserable. I thought that was ridiculous. I am very grateful that I didn't need to see a doctor for a pressing, but non-emergency issue. So much for preventative medicine! I especially loved that I couldn't set up the appointment then and there, but would have to wait to fill out the form--possibly extending my first visit even later.

I was growing beyond frustrated with every attempt to see a doctor. I finally decided that  eight weeks was too long to wait.  Then I did what I should have done in the first place: I called and set up an appointment with the  doctor that I have gone to all throughout my childhood.  He's amazing AND he's not making me wait two months to see him, so even though I no longer live in the same area where he practices, its worth the drive!

This has been such a frustrating experience to even get in to see a doctor, that I can't help but be (more) scared by the shift towards socialized medicine. Waiting times are already absurd (2 months!!!), but those waiting times would jump dramatically if the system were to be bogged down by every hypochondriac or freeloader wanting every wart or scratch or bruise checked on the government's dime.

Happy Valentine's/ St. Patrick's Day!

This was originally supposed to be a Valentine's Day post, but time has been flying past and blogging has not been a priority. Recently I've been crafting more and trying to actually finish all of these projects so that I can blog/ brag about them has proven harder than I anticipated. I am great at starting projects, but about halfway through I lose all motivation. Making holiday-related crafts has helped, because it gives me a nice deadline to finish projects by (the St. Patrick's day craft shown below was finished a little about 11:30 pm last night, otherwise it would have been at least another year before I thought about completing it).

Look what I made:

Valentine's Day Banner:

Valentine's Day Wreath:

Idea found here.

I love argyle!  And I ended up liking this wreath so much I decided to make a shamrock one for St. Patrick's Day:

The wreaths are a little misshapen because I used some foam tubing instead of a wreath form  and it didn't work as well as I had hoped. I got the idea from Pinterest; and it worked well enough, plus was certainly a lot cheaper than a wreath form.

Have a Happy St. Patrick's Day (and I hope your Valentine's Day was great too!)

Zoo Lights!

Last night I went to Zoo Lights at the Hogle Zoo. It was awesome.  A great Groupon deal was the impetus for this trip to the zoo and it turned out to be a lot of fun.  A lot of the exhibits were closed, but the lights were beautiful, and plentiful and many of them had the illusion of motion. 

This alligator was really cool.  The lights created the illusion that he was snapping. I nicknamed him "Snappy."

Cool rhino.  I really liked the fog in this picture.

Awesome elephant shaped lights. I want some of these for my place!

The big cats were very active!  It was fun to see them out and about and to hear them growling.  

'Hobbes' the Tiger (and yes I named him too.)

Snow Leopard

My roommate Jessica with the snow leopard (it just looks like a soft blanket, unfortunately.  My camera and the photographer **ahem** weren't quite up to par for the task of an action shot.)

Making friends with the gorilla.

Being even friendlier with the gorilla

The Elephant came out for a late-night snack.

The zoo train wasn't running, but this one was cute so I got a picture with me 'in' the caboose.

 I had never been to the zoo's new Rocky Shores exhibit.  It was awesome. I am looking forward to going to the zoo during normal hours and hopefully seeing more animals in the exhibit.

I also fell in love with the soft cuddly bears. They were so cute.

Unfortunately it turns out that there was no ice carving as had been advertised. Despite that disappointment, the Zoo Lights more than made up for that. It was really fun; I already want to go again! 

Awful Aptitudes

You know how some people have very obvious talents like singing or drawing or playing the piano?  Welllll, I was not blessed with such talents. In fact, my talents are so obscure that even I'm not sure what they are; but tonight I recognized not only one, but two!

Unfortunately they tend to make me seem like a creeper.

First of all, not only do I have "a command of thoroughly useless information" but sometimes this useless information is about near-strangers.  The awkwardness of meeting new people often cements into my mind minute details about said person.  Every time I see this person at, oh say, a ward activity, my brain is able to key in on these details.

This would be an awesome talent if I could share it, but I have to use all of my willpower to hold back the ten facts that I know about this person when they start saying that we've never met and ask me what my name is. I have to hide my light under a bushel so that I don't creep people out.

My second talents that I discovered tonight is that I have keen observation skills--and not in a 'outside- your-window-on-a-tree-branch-with-a-pair-of- binoculars' kind of way.  And perhaps even more impressive, not in a Facebook Stalker kind of way either.  I think that this talent is what led me to study psychology and to learn to love classics, because both teach you about the human condition.  I sought to understand that things that I have observed.  This skill though helps me to glean even more information about people (see above for how this would make me seem like even more of a creeper).

Actually I guess I just discovered another talent: keeping my mouth shut and hiding my crazy (except for those rare occasions when I open up and share my inner most thoughts and desires and craziness on the Internet...)

Texting is the Bane of my Existence...

....mostly because there seems to be no etiquette involved.  I got a text at 12:26 AM to inform me of the musical numbers that were to be included in the Sunday program in eight and a half hours. This was obviously vital information that could not wait, so it in no way prompted me to get out of bed and start typing this diatribe.

One of the main reasons that I don't like texting because of the horrible effect that it has had on human interaction.  It would seem odd that someone as anti-social as me would hate the very technology that enables one to have the least amount of contact with other humans, but in a cruel twist of irony, texting has made me miss real face-to-face human contact that actually meant something.  Now most of my interactions with friends occurs via a screen and is so watered down that I'm not even sure if I can count it as a social interaction, because its so superficial.  You win cruel world: I miss interacting with real people.  Honestly it has gotten to the point where when some people text me, its almost physically painful because I view their text as not caring enough to pick up the phone and call (you win again cruel world, I even miss talking on the phone. This does not apply to all people or situations, but oft times lately I have felt this way.)

I also hate it because it is a cop-out. Its a way not to have to face real emotions and real feelings.  Intricate questions that should be asked on a date, for example, have been sent to me via text message.  I don't know how to respond to these questions because A) I'm caught off guard by the question itself and B) the medium through which the question is asked is entirely inappropriate. Also, texting gives individuals false courage to say whatever they feel like saying....the medium distances them from seeing or caring how their words affect their poor recipient/victim.  I haven't seen this particular situation myself, but on a lesser scale I have because unfortunately there is no sarcasm font, and I am sure that the things that I text are not always interpreted correctly---and despite what people think,  THIS:  :) or :( or any other emoticon, does not actually make what one says via text okay.


Its amazing how quickly the technology of  texting took off, but the effects that come from texting have appeared just as rapidly.  Our society is filled with socially inept, and socially immature people---and the really scary part is that the majority of society does not have a problem with it.

There are many more ways in which the technology of texting has become the bane of my existence, but I should probably try to go back to sleep rather than attempt to expound on them right now...but if another even  more incoherent post immediately follows this (or if you hear of my arrest on the news) you'll know that it is due to some moron texting me at a socially inappropriate hour.

I'm Too Old to Be in a Singles Ward....

....and not because I think that 23 is old. Its more that I'm an old soul. I really think that I'm like an 80 year old at heart.  This unfortunately means that I have a hard time relating to the other people in my ward, and it also means that I don't like the idea of watching an outdoor movie for Family Home Evening in mid-October.  I like movies.  I like being outside. I cannot tolerate being cold though, so I draw the line when it comes to sitting on the cold hard ground on an even even colder, frosty Fall night.

Also, this might just be my elderly crankiness coming out, but when did watching movies become a good way to socialize and meet people?  Admittedly the last outdoor movie Family Home Evening I went to (which I was excited about, at first, but then again that was because it was held during the Summer...), I did meet people, but they made me feel somewhat homicidal because they were jerks...so once again, still not good for socializing.

And to keep the tirade going: we watched a movie last week for FHE! I guess it still beats speed dating though.

K as in....uh....uh....Kangaroo?

I'm not the biggest fan of talking on the phone.  Mostly because I am surprisingly bad at it.  This sounds stupid, but its true. When I talk on the phone I get tongue-tied and I fumble all over the place.  This isn't usually too bad during the course of a normal phone conversation where the other party is able to cut me off and direct the conversation far better than I am capable of, but all of the voicemail messages I leave are always awkwardly horrible.  Even as I am leaving the message I feel how stupid I am, but I am already too far in to turn back, so I just rush through the rest of the message I am leaving, quickly sign off and spend the next 15 minutes overanalyzing the awkward message I just left.

I also have this horribly high squeaky voice, which only gets higher and squeakier when I speak on the phone. Seriously, why do people even have phone voices? And why can't I control mine better?!!

Honestly, I never feel like a bigger idiot than when I am on the phone....except for possibly the one exception of when I'm on the phone at work, and unfortunately for me, a large part of my job requires me to answer phones.

Today at work a client  called and asked for some information. I ended up having to share a few email addresses with her and had to spell them out for her.Why is it so hard to come up with a words that start with the letter you are saying when you are spelling a word out for people? Is this just me? I've always struggle with it, I hmmm and haw for a good minute every time and sound like a complete moron as I scour my brain for a word, any word, that starts with that letter.

Today was even worse than usual because the client on the phone had an Australian accent and the first letter of the word was 'k,' so my brain brilliantly came up with, "K as in Kangaroo."  At which point I started mentally kicking myself hoping that she wouldn't be offended by the word that I had chosen (I realize it doesn't sound offensive, but still it wasn't the best choice to come to mind, and unfortunately it was the only word that came to mind).

More Things I Will Never Understand

1. The continued use of 2 sided dvd's. Such a pain! 

2. How few people find it disturbing that people are now in love with their phones. The Siri feature: CREEEEEPY!!!  perhaps its just the commericals that make it creepy, but the celebrities constantly talking to an operating system and asking their phone if it is raining, when they are looking out the window and SEEING rain is, oh, what's the word?...CREEPY!!  

3. Speed Dating. As much as I love small talk and being herded around by the sound of a bell, and being judged by my comments to random questions by random strangers in the space of three minutes, I would much rather be doing, well, anything else.  I think we're taking the wrong approach with locking up terrorists and waterboarding.  10 minutes of speed dating at an LDS singles ward will have those criminals whipped into perfect gentlemen, just so that they don't have to endure anymore of this real torture (come on ACLU, why aren't you fighting against this real torture. And yes, some people might argue that it was self-inflicted, but no, no it was not.  REalizeing that NO ONE likes speed dating, and yet, not realizing for themselves how pointless and annoying this acitivty is, the powers that be on the activities committee cleverly disguised the event by a fun, unique label, thus successfully hiding the ugly, twisted nature of the real activity)

4. Why the welfare system is still around. Ok, I realize that some people need an extra hand up, and I am all for giving it to them, and only them until they are back on their feet.  But I think its safe to say the the majority of the people on welfare should not be on it, but are too lazy and do not have a Jiminiy Cricket to tell them that their continued milking of the government is completely unethical and disgusting.

5. Insurance....  and Electoral Colleges. Believe it or not these two things are related: because they are both completely impossible to understand  No matter how often they are explained to me, in many different ways, I will NEVER EVER EVER EVER comprehend either of these.

The Commenter

There's one in every ward.  You know the person, the one who when they raise their hand in Sunday School or Relief Society the rest of the group collectively rolls their eyes and grits their teeth.  This is the person who constantly comments during lessons.  Not only do they comment frequently, but their comments are looong and take up half the lesson.  And more than half time their comments are so off the mark that you can't help but feel embarrassed for these people (even though they are so socially unaware that they would never be embarrassed for themselves).

I tend to err in the other direction when it comes to commenting by not commenting at all. This is due in part to extreme shyness, but also because I do not ever want to be the person who makes the awkward, or long, or frequent comments.

Tonight I discovered that the Resident Commenter in my ward signed up for the same Institute class as me.   And bonus...her long tangential comments aren't just reserved for Sunday!