Contradictions

I was discussing the pros and cons of blogging today with Laser Jock.  (Or, in other words, I was trying to convince him to blog and he'd have none of it.)  That conversation inspired me to blog again (see my last post) and next thing I knew, I was reading through my archives.  I found that when I got to my really long posts, I skipped them.

Does anyone else find this hypocritical of me?  I won't even read my own long blog posts?

[sigh]

For you, Goblin King

The Goblin King got mad at me the other day for not posting on this blog anymore.  "I miss all the random stuff you'd come up with."

Hmm... what random things could I tell you today?

Did you know that you can put together an entire artificial Christmas tree while running horrible, cursed stats, and get both done without sacrificing the other?  It also makes the worst job in the world tolerable.  Too bad I can't do it again tomorrow as I do the worst part of stats.  [sigh]

I repotted Alfred today.  Is it cruel to do this to a plant?

Laser Jock thought I was being quite cruel.  In fact he told me that I was beig string-ent.  [rolls eyes]  I convinced him I was doing it out of love.  Alfred isn't strong enough to hold himself up in his new pot quite yet.  Give it a week or so and I'll probably remove two of those three strings.  The last one will probably get moved over the weeks to train him to stay in his pot.  It's huge.  I can't repot him into something bigger.  He must learn to grow in a circle.

Hmmm... something else.  Three is a good number.  I should have three random things on here.  Oh, this should please you, GK.  A Garfield comic!  This one made me laugh right out loud.  Go check it out.

Yellow

This is the T-shirt I bought Yellow in Jerusalem as a gag gift. (Please note the word "Girl" is in various fonts. They didn't have the press-on with "girlfriend" so they got a "boyfriend" one, cut out the word "boy", and replaced it with scrap letters that they had cut out from other press-ons. Also, it was a man with one arm that made this shirt. Also, please note the color of the shirt.)

He wore it for the first time (that I've ever seen) when we went camping over Labor Day. It made me laugh and I figured it should be shared with the world.

Thank you for saying thank you!

Part of my job is to answer emails from patrons about our website. Sometimes patrons can be kind of snarky in their emails ("Why does your site do this when I obviously told it to do this other thing?!???!?!?!"), and I take great pleasure in either fixing the problem or writing back and very tactfully explaining what they did wrong. (I take no pleasure when there's nothing I can do about the problem. That just annoys me.)

Yesterday I answered just such an email. I saw immediately what she had done wrong and why it would be confusing. So, in great detail, I explained how each part of the site worked, and even went beyond that and did her search for her, telling her exactly where she could find the data she wanted. It made me feel kind of cool to be able to answer her email in such detail.

Today I got the following reply from her, "That was a FANTASTIC explanation! Thank you for taking time to do all that for me."

It made me smile. Those kind of responses make all the snarky emails totally worth it.

junk mail

Dear Publishers Clearing House ~

Stop sending me your crap. I don't open it, and you're just killing trees.

~ Dragon Lady

I CAN cook! I promise!

Despite my best efforts to prove otherwise today in my labors of a boston cream pie (Brother's birthday) and brownies (visiting teaching), I really can cook! (We won't go into the terrors of my kitchen today.) I mean, really... I made a boston cream pie!

So why is it that we got two fire extinguishers for wedding presents? Do people not know me at all?! (Heartless, you may remain silent on this one.)

Plant Spotlight - Iris Daphne of Guild

This beautiful orchid was one of my favorite splurges at IKEA. Isn't she pretty? Soon after I got her, I decided that all of my plants needed to be named. I enlisted the help of my roommates in doing so. The Cold One was quite fantastic about helping me come up with names... except for this beauty. The Cold One insisted upon calling her Iris. I can't call her Iris! She'll have an identity complex. Problem is, Heartless also liked the name Iris and every once in awhile I'd even find myself slipping. [sigh] However, I liked the name Daphne much better for her. It seems a royal name... also, it's the name of my best friend when I was a small child. Finally, a compromise was struck. Her name is officially Iris Daphne of Guild. When I initially named her, it was a lot more complicated. Probably something inspired by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. The several names were forgotten, however, and it just became Iris Daphne. But that sounded... empty. It was missing something. It wasn't royal enough. So she got a place as well. Where is Guild, you ask? No idea. But I have the strangest suspicion that it was subconsciously influenced by Myst.

Sadly... she's down to only two flowers. However, I moved her to a windowsill and she has been much happier. There is a bud about ready to bloom and another one that I expect will bloom in a week or two.

Finally!

When you're done with the game, you can watch an instant replay. Typically this only takes a couple of minutes. As for this game...
Breakdown
Taking over all other colors: 2 mins
Battle over that one territory: 4.5 mins
Final takeover, once I broke through that bottleneck: 1 min

Dice Wars... indefinitely

This is a horrible position to be in.  I've been battling green for probably the past 20 minutes and it always comes back to this.  Unfortunately, Dice Wars is addicting, so I just keep playing... I wonder who will give up first, me or the computer.

Randomness for Sanity

Heartless and I went to a meeting today at work that was amongst the most chaotic meetings of my entire life. We took 4 pages of notes... not on the meeting itself, but commenting on the mayhem flying around us. We quite enjoyed them, so we thought it might be fun to share parts with you as well. And now you know the secret as to how we stay sane at work.

• I'm not a user.  :(
• Since when is red and blue opposite?
• Funny thing is, I think
• Sometimes you have to think
• If you chance to meet a frown...
• TOO MANY VOICES!!!
• Reskew = rescue?
• afghpqklmna  (apparently my attempt to recreate "asldfkjal; dfj;law klwe" (what I type when I'm frustrated) comes out in mostly alphabetical order when I actually have to write out the letters by hand.)
• "No.  That's a Kofax bug."  Isn't this a KOFAX MEETING?!
• Valid.  But dumb.
• Look how [coworker] eats her cheese.
• So, maybe we just need training.
• "Oh!  I can zoom!"
• "Hello!  That's what the list was!"  "Apparently not!"  (This reminded Heartless of a dinosaur comic (The 2nd frame of the comic))
• Can I go home?

And just for randomness with no context:

HHoowwardaraandndgered

angered

anGgeeorregde

WWWoWGooooodoo

Time to get up!

Yellow's alarm clock is set to the radio. This morning we woke up to the oddest words ever:

"Can Jesus and Satan worship God together? This morning, here to sing a song together, now we have Jesus and Satan."

I love working internationally

I just got off a work phone call where I was told to "make haste" and "give a shout out".

That long phone call was totally worth it for those two phrases at the end.

Just a little thing

I love it when books have obvious breaks in the middle of chapters. Like, a few extra lines or three stars or something. You know what I mean.

Why do I love them? Because it gives me a good place to stop reading where I can easily see where I stopped without being a chapter break. Because chapter endings almost always leave me on the edge of my seat wanting more. Half the time if I stopped 3 paragraphs before the end of the chapter I would be fine. But noooo... I always have to read those last 3 paragraphs and force myself to close the book, then spend the next several hours wondering what in the world is gonna happen.

I suppose authors are just smart that way.

It's creepy when these things are so true

You Are Aurora! (A.K.A. Sleeping Beauty.)

Thoughtful and loving. Authority figures probably have been sheltering you all of your life. Thankfully you're a very tranquil person who is content with what life has given you, but secretly you want to know how the outside world works.

Which Disney Princess Are You?

A+ to O-

So, remember how I was so sad about not being able to give blood? Well, I was free and clear to give blood again in July. But the beginning of June I went to France. I didn't know if that would affect my blood donor eligibility or not, though. I kept meaning to call and ask, but kept forgetting. I made Yellow promise to come with me because he has the most amazing veins that were made for giving blood. Yet, I still kept forgetting to call.

Today I got an email from the Red Cross reminding me to give blood and I decided this was the reminder I've been needing. So I called. After calling two numbers and talking to three different ladies, I ended up finding out that 1 week in France is nothing and I can still give blood. And one year after returning from Egypt is enough time. Then she even walked me through what I would have to answer on the little computer questionnaire thing.

Red Cross, here we come!

Plant Spotlight - Amber

I love plants. I fell in love with house plants in particular back in August when Chilly introduced me to Plant Day. What a blessed, life-changing event. Thanks Chilly! In fact, Azriel came to my house last night and one of the first things she said was, "Your house is a greenhouse." I took that as the deepest compliment.

I took pictures of all of my plants awhile ago. I love them. I've named them. Of course I must photograph them. And now, I shall blog about them. If you don't like plants, or think I am silly, feel free to skip any post starting with "Plant Spotlight" in the title.

For now, I present to you, Amber:

 

This is most likely going to be the most artsy picture of any of my plants. I can't even guarantee that it's a good artsy. Whatever. I like it.

Amber is my avacado tree. She's the first of my house plants, but she didn't start the obsession. She was planted after a dinner at Brother Sr.'s house when we had three avacado seeds leftover and Brother Sr. thought I should plant them. Why not? It took ages for those three little sticks to poke up, but then they thrived beautifully. Y'know, once they got leaves. I love Amber.

Sadly, she went through a time of tragedy, which is documented here. After weeks of death, I plucked off all of the dying leaves and she started to produce more leaves. That's when this picture was taken. It's purpose was actually to show the new growth at the top.

Since then, a second stem has died. I mourned. But the third is holding strong. She guards my front door at my new house and is closely monitored. Her leaves are slightly wilted, but this time she hasn't turned all orangish/brown.

Everyone keep your fingers crossed that she'll make it out of this one.

Harry, meet Edward.

I love Harry Potter. I don't think there's any secret about that. My 8 GB iPod is currently full with the audio books. Yup, all seven of them. They fit beautifully in 8 GB. As I drive or do boring, mindless tasks at work, or even while I'm cooking or cleaning at home, I listen to them. I'm currently listening to book 5. I would tell you what part, but the memory is being drowned by a more prominent literary memory. What could drown out Harry Potter?! you might ask. Well, it would be a excellent question. What could possibly drown Harry Potter from my mind? Part of me is ashamed to admit this.

Twilight.

My Relief Society bookclub is reading the newest book this month. I decided I wanted to participate in this book club for two reasons. 1) I wanted to socialize with these new sisters; find a niche in my new ward and 2) I've actually been finding time to read lately. I started going through the books on my bookcase at breakneck speed, and this new book club offered me a chance to get a library card and start reading new books. I haven't read new books in a long time.

But Twilight? I've watched as the world around be became obsessed with this Vampire-centered world. I wasn't turned off because they were about vampires. Meh. Who cares? More, I think, it was because many people were becoming obsessed and many others were rolling their eyes. I don't like people to roll their eyes at me. At least, not unless I did something on purpose, hoping to get them to roll their eyes. Also, I was never handed the opportunity to read the books; I had no desire to seek them out. Thus, I simply never read them. I wasn't against them, mind you. But I was... skeptical, I'll admit.

I felt like I had no choice. Yellow has read them. He's been telling me for months now (ever since he read them at Christmas) that I would like them and that I should read them. And now the girls at the book club were telling me that I would like them and if I wanted to participate in the next book club, I'd have to read all of them.

I suddenly empathized with everyone I have ever met that has not read Harry Potter and has no desire to do so. I'm sure I put on as much pressure, if not more. Though, I think I give much better arguments.

I gave in and borrowed the first book. It took me a couple of days to get started. I had better things to do, like teach my former roommate how to play Ticket to Ride. Or cleaning our room so that I could walk into it without a death wish. Last night I gave in and read. Until around midnight. This morning I woke up and read. Until 2:30 in the afternoon. Y'know... until I finished. Yellow was grateful, though. It gave him quality time to play whatever video game it is that he's been craving playing... and got bismark re-addicted to. Civilization something or the other. Something more specific. I could go look, but whatever.

Ok, I am addicted. I'll admit it. I joined the ranks of girls fawning over Edward and secretly hoping that he'll turn Bella into a vampire, but at the same time, scorning the thought because, really.... he just can't do that.

I put down the book and came out to catch up on the masses of news in my Google Reader. I read through my Harry Potter feeds with a laugh. Only I would put Twilight and Harry Potter together. Until I started reading things about Twilight in my Harry Potter feeds! Things about how "Harry Potter fans are mad for vampires" and about the new Twilight movie coming out. Then it hit me. Cedric Diggory is going to be Edward! Of course the two worlds are going to come smashing together. Did I ever have a hope of staying out of this one, too?

[sigh]

The one thing that really irritates me, though, is the fact that I can never name my daughter Bella. In the last two days I have fallen in love with the name, but my poor daughter would be forever linked with a book. Yes, I'm lame.

In which technology replaces humans

I'm currently trying to send an email to a group mailing list in order to answer a question I received at work.  However, my email address has changed from ldschurch.org to familysearch.org so they don't think I'm actually subscribed, so they won't let me send anything in it.  I had to jump through all of these hoops and send all sorts of emails and click on confirmation buttons to prove that I wasn't sending spam.  All of it was worth it, however, when I received the following in an email:

Your message to [email address here] has been forwarded to the
"list owners" (the people who manage the [company name] list). If you wanted
to reach a human being, you used the correct procedure and you can ignore
the remainder of this message.

Heartless pointed out the irony of an automated response telling me that I reached a human being.

[Happy Dance]

Humble Master brought to my attention today that, as of this morning's posts, I have reached 1200 answers, which ties me with Duchess for the #10 answering spot of all time.  (And since "Dr" comes before "Du", I am in the 10th spot on the list.)  In 8 more questions, I beat Optimistic.  (I love competing against retired writers.  Makes my task so much easier.)

In this I am well pleased.

(I'm also quite happy that this question is the 1200th question.)

Sometimes Death is the better option

There's a stigma that haunts new brides ... something about not being able to cook. I never worried about this, however, as I love to cook and have been doing it myself for years and years now. Sure, I smoke up a kitchen here and there, but I think my successes greatly outweigh my failures. Yellow told me the other day that I've yet to cook anything he didn't like.

Statements like that must be tested.

The other night I was over at The Heartless Siren's house, trading dinner for her washer and dryer (we don't have one). Especially helpful is that half of my food was still there. Shepherd's Pie was on the menu. I peeled and chopped the potatoes, then got them boiling. Meanwhile, I had the hamburger defrosting. Before long, the hamburger was crumbled and cooked. I waited for a commercial in So You Think You Can Dance that Heartless and Co. were watching, then I headed down to the cellar to raid my food storage for green beans and tomato sauce. Typically I choose stewed tomatoes for Shepherd's Pie. It's already got spices and other yummy goodness, like onions and celery (which actually is disgusting, but I don't mind it in things like this). However, knowing that Heartless considers onions and celery as Death, I made a quick decision to be nice and just grab tomato sauce and spice it myself.

I rummaged around the kitchen, trying to figure out how to open the four home-canned bottles, since I had taken my bottle opener over to my new house with me. Sighing, I gave in and grabbed a spoon. I've seen my parents and siblings open bottles with spoons hundreds of times, but I was never any good at it. To my surprise, it only took a few tries before I popped the tops off both bottles of tomato sauce. I poured the first bottle over, hesitating a moment... was there enough hamburger to justify another jar? I stirred it... just a bit... and decided that, yes, two jars would be ok.

I started stirring the tomato/hamburger mixture, considering putting my iPod back in my ears (I had been listening to Harry Potter 4 earlier), when an unexpected smell assaulted my nose. Where I had expected to smell tomatoes, I instead smelled apples. Apples? Fear crept over my thoughts. No. It couldn't. I recalled in a quick flash the bottle sitting next to the one I had grabbed being labeled as "Duchess". I knew that was applesauce. Mom had labeled it to distinguish what kind of apples she had used. I quickly grabbed a discarded lid from the opened bottles. "06" was all it said. I looked back at the skillet. No. No way. But this wasn't labeled as applesauce. Also, it was pink! Applesauce isn't pink.

And then it hit me like a load of bricks over the head. Mom's specialty applesauce, the one you had to ask nicely and bat your eyes to get a jar of, only surpassed in difficulty by fruit cocktail, was strawberry applesauce. And it was pink. I gingerly scraped the side of the opened jar with my finger, then slowly licked the offending sauce off. It was, without a doubt, strawberry applesauce.

Now what was I to do?! I just poured two bottles of precious applesauce over the only hamburger I had. One of the television watchers reassured me, saying he would often grate apples into his ground beef and it takes on the texture and flavor of hamburger, but it's healthier! That made me feel better, but this was two pints of applesauce, not a grated apple. I called Mom and she laughed and laughed, accusing me of having New Bride syndrome, and told me to rinse it off, then put tomato sauce on. "Sister-in-law Jr. always rinses off her hamburger after cooking it. Granted, I think it takes away the flavor, but that's just me." "Oh, so you think that taking away the flavor is the best option here?" "Wait, it's already cooked?"

[groan]

I chatted at Yellow and told him the horrible thing I had done. He suggested that we could just change the name and call it Orchard Tender's Pie instead. I rolled my eyes, waiting for a real response until I realized... he was serious.

I knew it was ridiculous. I couldn't leave the applesauce in with the hamburger and keep going! .... could I? Of course, now that the idea was planted in my head, I couldn't shake it. But what if it tasted amazing?! This is how new recipes are born, isn't it? And if I didn't keep going, all of that strawberry applesauce would be wasted. But then again, if I kept going and it was gross, the potatoes, hamburger, green beans and cheese would be wasted. [sigh] Dilemmas!

I couldn't bring myself to taste the hamburger/applesauce mixture. Finally I told Yellow that he would have to come from work and taste it himself. He was leaving momentarily anyway, so we decided that would be the plan. He still finds this plan faulty, since he is basically a living garbage disposal... he'd eat anything. But I figured that if it was so gross that even he didn't like it, I knew it would be a very bad idea.

He came. He tasted. He approved. I doubted. I tasted. I wavered.

I think it was the fact that I got a large bite of hamburger. It wasn't so bad at first, but when I actually started chewing a large piece of hamburger with a lingering applesauce taste in my mouth, I wasn't convinced. I hemmed. I hawed. Do I waste it? Should I be brave? What do I do?!

I've never been good with decisions.

Finally, with a promise from Yellow that if I didn't like it, he'd eat it every day for lunch so that it wouldn't be wasted, I went ahead and finished making the dish. Heartless went to bed. She was tired and doesn't like fruit anyway. This dish had been ruined for her. We finished baking and laundry and took it home. Yellow took a big piece; I took a small piece.

Honestly? It wasn't half bad. Yeah, I wouldn't make it again on purpose. But if you took a bite and imagined that you had taken a bite of Shepherd's Pie and then a bite of applesauce, it wasn't bad at all. We both ate it for lunch for the next several days until it was gone.

Conclusions:

1. Yellow truly will always think I'm a good cook and like everything I make.
2. Being brave isn't as dreadful as I imagined.
3. Heartless, you would have gotten dinner had you let me put Death in. I wouldn't have confused applesauce with large chunks of tomatoes, along with celery and onions. I blame this whole thing on you.

Amish Virus

I just got this email virus.  I thought it was quite fantastic, and The Heartless Siren thought I should blog it.  I quite agreed.  So, I am now passing this virus on to all of you via my blog.  Hmmm... a blog virus.  This is a bad idea.  Pretend I never said it.  Don't go giving anyone ideas.

And I thought I was from a small town

ANCHORAGE, Alaska (Reuters) - A volcano in Alaska's Aleutian chain erupted on Saturday, sending a cloud of ash 35,000 feet into the air and prompting the evacuation of the 10 people who live on the eastern side of the island, officials said.

No fear of implosion anytime soon

I had the following email exchange with a coworker. Heartless Siren declared yesterday that were this coworker to ever be straightforward, he would implode. I think this email conversation proves that.

• Email 1: [Not sent to me] Information about an online training session at 11:00 this morning.
  
• Email 2: [From Implode to me, forwarding Email 1] "If you have time this should be interesting. M and S will be unable to participate."
  
• Email 3: [From me to Implode] "Sorry. I just barely got this email. I had to go get a new driver’s license this morning and didn’t get into work until 11:30. Hope the meeting went well!"
  
• Email 4: [From Implode to me] "The meeting is at 1:44."
  

At this point I pull Heartless Siren over to read the emails to see if I missed something. She was as confused as I was.

• Email 5: [From me to Implode] "… ummm… 1:44?  a) Who schedules a meeting for 1:44? b) Where did it ever say that in the email?"
  
• Email 6: [From Implode to me]  "We all missed it."

Now... does 1:44 have some connotation for "we missed it"?  Are Heartless Siren and I the only clueless ones out here?

Calling all kitty lovers

Due to a ginormous miscommunication between myself and my former landlady (please don't get me started) my former roommates and I need to find new homes for our kitties. There are two adorable cats that are in desperate need of good homes. I can't bear to let them go to a shelter where chances are great that they'll just be euthanized. They started as inside cats and were quite well-behaved. (Drawly, one of the kittens that we found a new home for, is currently an inside cat.) For the last few months, all of them have lived outside and have done perfectly well out there. Thus, they can be inside or outside cats.

The momma cat is Sonja. Isn't she adorable? She makes a wonderful house cat. She's very quiet and calm. She rarely jumps on things or scratches furniture. I was quite amazed at how well she acted in the house. She's rather timid about new places, so she may hide for the first few days, but she does come out of her shell. And she loves to be pet under her chin. And now I present, Sonja (look how good of a Momma she is):



Sir Guy (named after the BBC Robin Hood character that we are all in love with) is just becoming a teenager. Since we had to take his brother and best friend, Drawly, away, he has been a lot more calm and loves attention, though he'll only let you hold him for a short time. He can be quite playful and is great fun to watch climbing trees. (He has even become adept at climbing down.) He has this very entertaining sideways jump and loves to chase after anything that moves. And now I present, Sir Guy (How can you resist those eyes?):



Please, please, I am begging anyone who can give these kitties a good home to step up. You can email me at dragonladyofjapan@gmail.com or give me a call if you know my number. We have one cat carrier if you need it to move the cat. We'd like to keep them together, but understand completely if you can only take one. We also have a kitty litter and some litter to go with it. But only one, so first come, first serve.

If it comes down to bribery, I offer one dessert of your choice (assuming I can make it) to anyone who will give them a good home.

'Nuff said

So, I'm back from my week hiatus.  Since I was public about my curiosity, I'll publicly announce that my Google Reader is currently at 629.  I will also admit that I snuck online a few times and read a few blogs.  So that number should be higher.  Dear Family, I am caught up on your blogs.  Dear Everyone Else, I am far from caught up on your blogs.

That'll teach me

This is what I get for doing laundry.



Yup. That's a blood blister. On my pinky. It has been there for nine days and it still looks like this. Can I just tell you that it hurt like nothing else? Pain... pain... I curled up on my bed for probably 15 minutes because it hurt so much. Luckily, it doesn't hurt at all anymore. But it's still quite ugly.

Also, let it be noted that it is hard to take a picture of your left pinky finger.

It's a Google Miracle!

It's a record-breaking day, folks. My Google Reader is at ZERO new posts. That's right. Zero. None. At all. It's wonderful.

Don't understand why that's so exciting? Yesterday I was at 547.

I'm taking a week off from the Internet next week. It'll be interesting to see how high my Google Reader gets. I'll be honest, I'm slightly terrified.

Close Calls

1)  I was packing and grabbed my bottle of vitamins and noticed the lid was on crooked.  So I tried to twist it off, but it wouldn't come.  So I just pulled and it popped right off.  Tragically, it popped off with a bit of oomph and vitamins went flying everywhere.  As I was down on the floor by my bed, picking up the vitamins, I noticed two very potential dangers... pins!  Yup, that's right.  Two straight pins had been lying on the floor by my bed, just waiting for the right moment to bite me.  Thank you Vitamin Bottle for saving my feet.

2) So, I'm in the shower. I had just put conditioner in my hair, when I turned and saw this ginormous, gigantic, fat, hairy spider crawling on the Heartless Siren's poof. Holy hannah! This thing was huge!!! So then what was I supposed to do? I couldn't shower with that thing! So I jumped outta the shower, opened the toilet, planning on shaking the spider off the poof and into the toilet, but then I realized that to do that, I'd have to touch the poof. And what if the spider came crawling around? Well, then what?! (Said in true Prince Henry, stuck-by-lightening conversation fashion.) So I decided to be brilliant, and I grabbed a comb with the long, pointy handle and used the handle to pick up the poof, then I put it over the toilet and shook it out.  He fell without a fight. Bless him. But then I had to shake out all of the poofs in the shower, and triple check all of the corners to make sure there wasn't another one hiding in there.

shudder

I'm still shaking a bit and my heart is still thudding. Cold One, I blame you. I am certain he was a member of Raoul Mendes' family, coming back for revenge. The things I don't do for you...

Ice cream and Anne

Who knew that shopping and ice cream could have such an effect on making a day better?  But when you're daydreaming over things like soft ice cream makers and muffin tins, how could you not have fun?  The good mood was threatened by an old memory at one point, but another bite of a Grasshopper shake from Iceberg solved that.  Man that shake was good.  In fact, I ate so much ice cream that I couldn't finish my dinner.  I guess Mom was right when she threatened that sweets would ruin my dinner.  Who knew?  But I felt so much better after that shake.  Thank you, Iceberg for having delicious, ginormous shakes for the price of a bite of ice cream at Dairy Queen.

I fell asleep on the couch around 11, and finally made it to bed a little after midnight.  Then I decided to sleep until I woke up.  7 am was a cruel wake-up time.  So I went back to sleep.  I woke up a couple of times between then and 9:30, but I felt so rested that I didn't complain getting up then.  Besides, I have a lot to do before I go to France on Monday.  (On that note, I don't know if I'll have Internet, so if I slack on my blogging, I hope you'll forgive me.)

It's amazing what a good night sleep will do for a mood.  I am quite happy today.  Also, I'm feeling rather productive.  I've spent the morning thus far (all two hours of waking time) cropping/fixing some pictures, cleaning up dinner last night, cleaning the living room, weeding one flower bed (though the others need it a lot more, as does my garden) and deadheading the pansies in three other flower beds, and watering my garden.  Oh, and I watered all of my plants.  I really need to post about my plants.  I've taken pictures of all of them, for your viewing pleasure.  I just need to get pictures of my happy flower beds.

Comparing yesterday to today, I can't help but quote Miss Stacey from Anne of Green Gables, "Tomorrow is a fresh, new day...with no mistakes in it."  Thank goodness for all of the tomorrows of life.  The promise of them sure does help make rotten todays more bearable and give something to hope for.

The little things

So, if no one guessed, I've been having kind of a rotten day. Y'know, just one of those days where everything goes wrong, so you start looking for things that are bad. So on the way to work I was thinking about how weird it is that when you're in a bad mood, you'd much rather wallow in misery than to try and be happy. So I decided that I should change my attitude and try to find happy things, despite my wanting to sit here and pout and glower at anyone who dares speak to me.

I signed onto my Gmail chat and my status from yesterday stared me in the face. "There is a God, and He loves me."

I'm grateful for little messages to remind me of reasons to be happy.

Moot whining

You know what else I hate?  That not everyone has the same taste buds that I do.

I've been meaning for quite some time now to make some sort of yummy dessert and take it up to Chillylint and Mama Sleuth to thank them for all of the wonderful things they have done for me.  I was reminded of that this morning and was bemoaning the fact that I didn't have time to make them something yummy.  In the meantime, I was eating the last bit of Praline Fudge that Heartless Siren had given me, in an attempt to comfort myself on the beginning early terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.  When suddenly the brilliant thought hit me... I could stop at the Bookstore and buy some Praline Fudge for them because it is soooo good!  (Yes, that was said in a Teen Girl Squad Voice.)  And then I  bit into a nut.  And remembered that they don't like nuts.  And then I became grumpy because how am I supposed to know what other people like when they don't like the things that I like?  And then I was grumpy enough that I decided to blog about it.  (Yes, I like to whine.  Get over it.  Misery loves company?)

And then I remembered that I'm not even going to SLC today, so this whole pity party session was pointless.

Dear Chillylint and Mama Sleuth ~ 

 Since I shall be in France all next week, I shan't be coming back to SLC for a couple of weeks.  But I promise I'll fulfill my promise of goodies someday.  Also, Chilly, don't worry about those pictures I asked for.  I don't think I'll see you soon enough as I need to send them to Humble Master... oh... yesterday.  Maybe I should work on that today.  Sorry Humble Master!  (Although I know he will never read this, cuz he's not a blog reading kind of person.  Just let it be known that I apologized.)

~ Dragon Lady

Racka Fracka

Know what I love about Google Reader?  If you edit a post, it doesn't make the post show up as new again.  Also, because it takes a little while to pick up that there's a new post, if you catch your mistake immediately, chances are, no one will read the typo.

Know what I hate about Google Reader?  If you edit the title of a post, it thinks it's a new post.  Thus, it shows up new and everyone knows that you can't spell the word "Heaven."  We'll see if I caught my second typo fast enough, or if y'all are going to get three posts about how wonderful Dark Chocolate Mint 3 Musketeers are.  Well, if you do, that's just how wonderful they are.  So take that.  :P

Heaven in a wrapper

Some of you may not believe me, but this, my friends, is Heaven. Dark Chocolate and Mint added to previous goodness. Thank you my friends at Mars for making me the happiest person eating a candy bar at this moment.

The Real Cost

Yeah... this hits where it hurts.

Makes me want to play Free Rice.

Overheard

Yesterday I was with Mom down at the Big Red Barn in Santaquin, picking up some apples for Dad. As we stood in line, I noticed that the lady in front of us seemed to know the cashier and they were gabbing and catching up. I didn't really pay any attention until I overheard the following:

Cashier: "So, where are you living now?"
Lady: "Rwanda. In Africa."

... !!!

That's just not something you expect to hear in middle of nowhere Utah, I suppose.

Sometimes I don't know my own strength

I suppose I was jealous of Yellow's strength, so I decided to test out my own.


Yup. I broke a butter knife cutting butter. It wasn't even frozen.

So maybe I'm weird

Last night I was sick, so my mom gave me a Sprite. I don't like carbonation, but I drank some anyway, because it helps me feel better. They put what was left (which was a lot) in the fridge last night. Today I am drinking it and it is entirely flat. Is it weird that I think it tastes so much better?

Logic

Why I shouldn't have so many friends according to The Heartless Siren...

Because then I get roped into Mary Kay facials when I really just wanna go home and do nothing.

Confession

I actually like McDonalds.

I had a double cheeseburger, small fry and a fruit and yogurt parfait for lunch. It cost just over $3.

I think I may buy a McFlurry on the way home today. I need ice cream.

Update on dishonored cows

The fabric store had the 6 7/8 yard peice of material. I did, however, have to wait in line for probably 20 minutes, with only one lady in front of me. But I'm grumpy today, so I shan't go into details. Tomorrow I probably won't even care.

Now, everyone just pray that 6 7/8 plus 2 will be enough.

Dishonor on fabric stores and their cows

Fabric stores and me are not friends. Every time I walk into one, my brain gets all swirled around. Also, they have all joined together in an effort to thwart me. I told Heartless Siren yesterday that I will never become a seamstress, simply because it meant I would have to go to fabric stores.

First, I do not have an eye for color. If you put a bunch of blues next to each other, I'm going to see a bunch of blues, and blues go together, right? Right! I would tell you that each of them match. Mom and Heartless beg to differ. Did you know there are a billion shades of blue and none of them match? This is the feeling I've been getting. Some have purple in them; some have green. Some are too dark or too light. But green, purple and blue all go together! That's what I think, anyway. This is why I should not pick out colors. Why do people think it's a good idea for me to come along and and pick colors? Why?! I think this must be punishment for something. Maybe for not doing dishes or lying about something or the other when I was 12. Really, I promise, if you think it looks good, I'm not going to argue.

Second, people who work at fabric stores don't think. Seriously. If Sister calls and asks if you have 10 yards of a specific kind of fabric, and you say yes and that you'll put it on hold, then you should have 10 yards of that fabric when I go to pick it up. Not three pieces of 2.4 yards, 6 7/8 yards, and 1 yard (that has a black smudge and a red stamp). Then if that person calls another store and asks if they have a piece bigger than 6 7/8 yards, and that other store says yes, they have an 8 yard piece, then for heaven's sake, that other store should have one 8-yard piece of fabric. Not 2 pieces of just over 4 yards each. Really, people. Is it that hard? So help me, if the 6 7/8 yard piece at the first store that is, once again, on hold for me has been cut or damaged in any way, I will burst into tears. (Such a threat, I know.)

Also, I'm required to go to more fabric stores next week. Please pray for me and my sanity. Also for the sanity of Mom who has to be in the fabric store with me, trying to make me make decisions.

Day of Not Simple

Yesterday was a day of Not Simple.  Perhaps I should explain.  Monday I stayed home sick.  Don't worry, I wasn't deathly ill or anything.  Rather, I was slightly nauseous, and sitting only made it worse.  So, instead of sitting at my computer all day, I stayed home so that I could get up and do something.  My kitchen and bedroom both thank me.  That meant Tuesday was effectively Monday.  

Around 10:15 I found myself waiting in line at the Wells Fargo in the Bookstore to deposit some checks and to get a money order.  There was only one person in front of me, but the wait took forever.  Finally, I gave up and headed over to the Dungeon where I helped my former coworker solve an error message they were getting.  I realized all too late, however, that Tuesday meant devotional, so I only had 30 mins to figure out what was going on.  In fact, I was only able to instruct them on a work-around solution instead of figuring out the real thing.

Next stop was lunch.  Olive Wood and I decided to go over to the Subway across from campus for lunch.  We got in there and there was only one lady in line.  Brilliant!  This would go so quickly.  WRONG.  The lady in front of us was ordering 9 different footlongs.  Luckily, we used that time in line to discover that they no longer did every sub as a $5 footlong, but only a select few.  So we had to change our choice of sub.  (Turns out we would have had to anyway... they were out of bacon, so a chicken, bacon, ranch wouldn't have worked.)  It finally became our turn and we happily placed our order of Oven-roasted Chicken Breast on a footlong Italian Herbs and cheese.  Turns out, they had no hot chicken out there.  They had to nuke it.  "I'll just take a couple of minutes."  7 minutes later, we were back in line.  Except the line had grown a lot, so we had to squeeze in between people who were being helped while we waited.  Somehow, our sandwiches got mixed up with the girl in front of us, so we were ordering our veggies across each other.  This wouldn't have been so bad, except the worker in front of me who was supposed to be helping the girl in front of us had no idea what was going on (I'm also fairly convinced that she's new to Subway and hasn't had the greatest training).  It was rather comical.  Let's not forget the boy who was helping us, then turned away to sneeze on his hands.  Don't worry, dear friends, he immediately took off his gloves and washed his hands.  But instead of coming back to finish our half vegitized sandwhich, he started ringing another girl up at the register.  Soon the lady helping the people behind us caught up and started surpassing our sandwich.  You could tell she was frustrated with the other workers (At one point I  heard her say, "We are struggling today, guys!  C'mon!" who seemed to be off in lala land somewhere.  Also, please note that the clueless girl who had been helping the girl in front of us was now just standing behind the frustrated lady, looking around as if she had no idea what to do next.  Finally the frustrated lady pointed out that our sandwich was only half finished, so it finally got finished.  Frustrated lady was the one to check us out.  "What kind of sandwich did you have?"  "Oven-roasted Chicken Breast."  "Finally, huh?"  We smiled and laughed.  I rather felt sorry for her and the other lady who knew what they were doing and had to deal with the others who didn't.  I'm glad I wasn't in a hurry and that I had worked at a restaurant before, because, despite the 30 minute wait in line, I was able to empathize with her and not be frustrated.

I still needed to get the money order, so I stopped at Harmon's on my way to work.  Turns out you have to have cash to get a money order.  I definitely didn't have that much in cash, so, thwarted once again, I went to work.

I got to work only to walk into a mess.  Through unknown reasons, our books that had been processed weren't actually releasing into a form where we could load them.  So we had 64 books that were hanging out somewhere in cyberspace limbo.  I quickly put a stop to our site trying to release any more books and started sending out emails, trying to figure out what the problem was, and to fix it.  Problem is, that's typically not my job.  It belongs to another lady who is currently on her honeymoon.  I sent her an email that basically said, "You may never go on vacation again."

While I was making dinner later that night, Heartless and I were talking and she said something that didn't make sense to me.  In trying to clarify, I wasn't very clear and she couldn't understand what I was trying to clarify.  It ended in a giant case of miscommunication where I could see what both parties were trying to say, but no one could see what I was trying to say except me.  I finally gave it up as a lost hope.  (I still stand by my opinion, but really, what's the point of arguing over pepperoni?)

Tuesday is Ticket to Ride night with my family.  We play online.  It's a beautiful way to have Family Time, even when we're spread over three states.  I had the clear lead the entire game.  By the end, I was an easy 20 points ahead of everyone else.  Then Brother had to come in at the last minute and steal my longest train.  Then Mom came out of nowhere with her completed trains and blew us all out of the water.  I was sure I had a guaranteed win, and ended up in third place.

Seriously, Tuesdays should never be Mondays.

A linguist's delight

It is frequently brought to my attention that my vocabulary is far different than the rest of the world.  It's all normal in my head, though.  And things other people say are just weird to me.

For example, I say:

- jockey box  NOT  glove compartment

- I've been piecing at my fruit all morning  NOT  I've been pecking at my fruit all morning

- I mate my socks  NOT  I ... match?  pair? ...my socks.  (What do normal people say?)

- My hair needs brushed NOT My hair needs to be brushed  (though, for the record, I'm working that one.)

- pop NOT soda  (except, I'm almost completely converted to soda now... but only for fear of mockery)

- huzzay NOT hooray or huzzah.  (Though, that is on purpose and due to Heartless Siren)

Who says I always conform?

(Apparently it's things like this that linguists love, however.  I'm just giving them all thrills.  Eat your heart out, Katya.)

Love and carrots

So, I got a comment on my "I don't dance. Accept it." post that really made me think.

So, your motivations in life come from your fears, rather than your love. You try to avoid the stick, but you aren't so interested in the carrot?

My dear Anonymous, please let me clarify a bit. I am not athletic. I may be skinny and appear to be fit, but I am not. I ran the mile in high school in 12:34. I've been told people have walked the mile faster than that. Climbing a few flights of stairs will wind me. I am not a stranger to the stitch in the side. Also, although I have three brothers, they were all gone by the time I hit 8th grade. I am the youngest by almost 5 years. I grew up as the spoiled little girl and was never introduced to playing sports. Through Young Womens I would play ward basketball, volleyball and softball, but only because half of the girls were as non-athletic as I was, and were also my best friends. I still felt foolish doing poorly in front of all those people, but at least it was a group I had been playing sports foolishly with for years. Also, I was from a small town; I was expected to play in these sports. I would have drawn more attention to myself if I didn't play. Also, let's not forget the boy in my ward that I had a crush on who was always at the ward games. Anyway, I'm getting side tracked. The point is, I am not very talented at anything that requires physical exertion, especially if I have to do it in front of other people. Believe it or not, folks, I'm shy.

Please note the types of activities I listed in that post:

dancing
rock climbing
snowmobiling
wakeboarding
working out in public
singing in front of others

Every single one except the last one deal with some sort of physical activity that I have never done, and thus feel uncomfortable learning how to do in front of others. The last isn't so much physical, but still requires using a poorly-developed talent in front of others.

This does not mean that I'm not motivated by love. What part of wakeboarding says love? Nothing! It says using muscles that I have not developed to do something that people claim to be easy, only to not be able to do it and look foolish in front of everyone.

Dragon Lady: "So, I went rock climbing last night. It's actually my third time. I'm getting decent at it."
Brother Jr.: "Who's the boy?"

I had to laugh, because he was right. The only reason I ever went rock climbing was because Olive Wood, the guy I was dating, had been wanting me to do it for months and he finally convinced me to go with him. I went because I cared about him, and it was something that he really enjoyed doing. Yes, you could argue that love was my motivation.

Also, what about all of the other things I do because I love doing them? I've planted a garden for the third year in a row. I have at least 12 plants at home that I care for and one at work that I claim as my own. I love plants and watching them grow. This year I even started half of my garden from seeds in Spare 'Oom. What about playing Mario 3? Even going so far as to convince my aunt to let me borrow the "Strategy Guide" (aka Cheat Book) so that I could learn all of the tricks. What about the two full bookcases in my room? What about all of the wedding videos I have made for family and friends? What about writing for the Board? What about all of the traveling I have done? What about swimming in the Dead Sea? What about plucking out hymns because it relieves my stress, even if I'm not good at it? How can you say that I'm motivated by fear and not love? Oh sure, there are many things I don't do because of fear... I've become quite content to be the wallflower and spectator... but there are many things I do that I love, and even some I do despite my fears.  (Also, who says that being a spectator is bad? I actually enjoy watching Guitar Hero, thank you very much. Also, I believe basketball is quite fun to watch and horrid to play. If you want me to be happy, let me watch and don't make me play.)

Now, I've never heard the stick and carrot phrase... perhaps I'm out of the loop. I did grow up in a bubble, after all. But I think I've gathered what you meant. In fact, here is a definition from Yellow, in case anyone else in my readership didn't quite understand:

Stick = punishment, Carrot = reward
You do something out of desire to avoid punishment, rather than out of desire for the intended outcome
you do your homework in order to avoid failing, instead of to learn

This may be true to an extent (I definitely did my fair share of homework in order to not fail instead of out of a desire to learn), but I wouldn't say that's how I live my life. To be honest, I don't think the results of dancing can be considered a carrot. It's more like celery. It could make me lose weight, but tastes icky.

Is it such a bad thing that I don't like doing things that make me feel foolish? Is it such a bad thing that I thrive in the things I am comfortable with and love? That I expand my bubble a little at a time, doing things because someone I care about wants me to do them, or because I develop a desire to learn myself? Am I a horrible person because I am not athletic? Must every person in the world love doing athletic things? Can't I stick with the things that keep me active that I enjoy? Yes, there are some. I have recently taken to rock climbing. I rather enjoy hiking if the people I'm with don't mind if I go slow. I love walks. I'll climb a flight of stairs at work instead of taking the elevator. Please forgive me if I don't find pleasure in the things that the masses find pleasure in.

For the record, I went snowmobiling. I enjoyed it. I would even go again. Even though I destroyed my knee in so doing.  And yes, it still hurts.  Not nearly as badly as it used to.  I can even sit with my leg curled up under me now.  Progress!  And guess what?  I would still go snowmobiling again.  Because it was fun.  I just won't do any more jumps.  See?  I'll expand my bubble, just let me do it at my own rate.

So call me a stick in the mud if you will.  Believe that I'm a party pooper.  I don't care.  The people who know me best accept and love me for who I am, and really, what else matters?

Why I don't think Social Security is secure

Once upon a time, Mom set up bank accounts for all of us children.  Our bank statements had our SSNs printed on them, so whenever we needed to know our SSN, Mom would tell us to check our bank statements.  

One day, when I was in 8th grade, our class decided to go to the INEL (now INEEL) for a field trip.  The INEL is a nuclear testing site, and thus the security there is quite high.  In order to take a tour there, you have to give them your SSN.  Charged with finding out this information, I went home and asked Mom who directed me to my bank statement.  I sat there at the table, carefully copying my number from my bank statement to a sheet of paper to give to my teacher.  As I was writing, Brother Jr. walked by and happened to glance at my paper.  

Brother Jr.: "Why are you writing down my Social Security Number?"
me: "I'm not.  This is mine."
Brother Jr.: "No it's not.  It's mine!"
both: "Moooom!"

Turns out, it was my SSN. Brother Jr. had been using my SSN for the past three years without having any idea. All his SS earnings got put in my name. He went to school under my number. He got his driver's license with my number. (Which turned out to be the biggest pain as we didn't realize it until I went to get my driver's license and he was on his mission. "Sorry. You can't use that number. It's already in use." "Can you tell me if Brother Jr. is using it?" "Yes, he is." "Well, try this number [enter his number here]" "Sorry, you can't use that number. It doesn't match your name." "Well my number doesn't match his name either!") He went on his mission under my number. He even registered for the draft under my number. I could have been drafted at the ripe old age of 14.

This week I received a letter from the Social Security Administration, detailing my SS earnings. I couldn't figure out why from 1994-1996 I had earnings, but from 1997-1998 I had $0. Then in 1999, my earnings started up again. And then it hit me. I wasn't working to earn SS money when I was 11 years old. So, from age 11-13, Brother Jr. gave me money. Then we figured it out, and I was left with no earnings for two years until I was 16 and started earning my own Social Security benefits.

There was a number to call if my earnings were not correct. I called them. I figured it would be the honest thing to do, after all. They won't let me give it back! The only way for him to get his money back is to talk to the potato farmers of Idaho (one of which is no longer farming) to see if they still have their paperwork of 12-14 years ago, and ask them to refile with Brother Jr.'s real number. Brother Jr. decided this was not worth his time.

Thank you Brother Jr. for the $2,437 Christmas present that may or may not be there for me when I qualify for it.  That definitely makes up for the pain and agony I went through when I had to postpone getting my driver's license due to this silly mistake.

I don't want to hear anyone scoff and scorn when they find out that I actually pay to have my credit monitored.  If my dear, sweet brother can steal my number that easily without anyone knowing and without even trying, then imagine how easy it is for someone who is actively trying to steal my identity.  At least I came out on top with this one.

I don't dance. Accept it.

I was just listening to Dancing Through Life from Wicked and found one of my own life theories in there:

     Those who don't try
     Never look foolish

Ironically, I typically follow that theory in relation to dancing. But really, I incorporate it into many aspects of life. I fear looking foolish. Considering how likely that is in most things that I could do, it's much more simple to never try. Certain of my friends and loved ones have convinced me to do things that I would never do on my own. Things such as rock climbing, snowmobiling, wakeboarding, working out in public, singing in front of others, etc. However, before all y'all start rejoicing that I'm seeing the light, I cannot say that I didn't feel foolish doing a lot of that stuff. Rock climbing, for example, took me several trips before I started feeling even a semblance of comfort. Wakeboarding... hahaha. I never even got up! It took a lot of convincing to get me out there, and I only ever did it because it was Brother that was doing the convincing and he promised me that he'd be patient with me. He kept to his promise, but I still felt rather foolish that I simply could not get up. I did not go again the rest of the trip; rather, I found various excuses not to get back out there.

For those of you out there who are still trying to get me to go water skiing, sky diving, dancing, running, biking, dancing, or anything else that I don't feel comfortable with, please forgive me when I put you off and refuse to do such activities. I still love you and am grateful that you want to share your favorite things with me. And maybe if you're very persuasive, patient, and if I trust you enough, and you're willing to do said activity with just the two of us, and not in front of a group of people, I may be convinced. After a long period of time. But please understand...if I never try, I'll never look foolish. This is a very appealing thought to me.

Random and disconnected thoughts

It's entertaining when you're driving behind a really slow car and finally get around it, just to find that one of your former teachers is driving it.

Our kitties are spending their first full day outside today. I'm pretty sure Sonja is mad at me for this. Sir Guy and Drawly weren't sure what they thought either. It kind of breaks my heart for them. But it's a beautiful day. And we'll go out and play with them after work.

I found a place to move yesterday. I am much saddened to leave The Heartless Siren. And my baby kitties. But it's all for the best. Also, it's only a block or so away. It has already been decided that I will be back to do laundry and keep up my garden and feed Heartless yummy dinners. I will miss them, and I don't look forward to packing and moving. But I am excited about life after this.

I planted three flowers this morning while procrastinating going to work. They're called Cosmos and I grew them from seeds in my house, along with half of my garden. I've been wanting to plant these for ages. I decided this morning that planting three wouldn't take that much time. It didn't. Now I have 3 more that I need to decide what to do with. Anyone want to plant some flowers?


Tonight I plan on planting Morning Glory (the flowery happy stuff, not the overpowering weed), Forget-me-nots, peas, potatoes, carrots, radishes... and whatever else I decide is ready to plant.

I forgot my headphones out in my car today. This wouldn't be a problem except I also forgot my access card. So I can get out, but getting back in is a pain.

I made Hawaiian Chicken and a Caesar Salad last night. (With help, mind you.) All from scratch. Including the croutons and the caesar dressing. The dressing wasn't my favorite (anyone have a good recipe?), but the rest was fantastic. Also, I've decided I'm loving fresh garlic. The garlic press I bought is probably my favorite investment right now. I'm running out of garlic. I didn't think I would ever do that, since The Cold One left her enormous stash with me.

I was mad at my landlady for not cashing my rent check yet. I opened my check book last night and found the check still in there. Oops?

I need motivation to get to work on time. And more motivation to be highly productive while there. You know, don't blog and answer Board questions and the like. Any suggestions?

I'm supposed to be eating 5 servings of fruit and veggies per day for the next two months in order to get $25 off my insurance premium. I am consistently hitting 4 servings. I have yet to get 5. I'm thinking I'm about to the point where I shan't be able to accomplish this goal. I may just not do this challenge. This'll be good. Because then I don't have to worry about exercising 5 days per week for 30 mins per day for the next two months. I like this idea. But I'll keep eating fruits and veggies. Because I like them.

I bought a footlong Subway sandwich on my way to work today for lunch. (Because it's cheaper!) I'm not very hungry at all. This could be problematic.

Today is beautiful. Really, really beautiful. I am very happy today. :)

Wishing for the Rest of the Story

I use the same stall in the bathroom every day at work. One day, many weeks ago, I noticed in passing that there were three rolls of toilet paper. This made sense, though, since the one was half gone. Thus, I concluded that the janitor came in, saw the one half gone, took it off the holder, replaced it with a new one, and put the half-used one on top so that it'd get used first. Dutifully, I used the one that was already half gone. I really didn't think a thing about it.

Several days later, a fourth roll appeared. (Maybe I should mention that this is not a highly used bathroom at all. There are only a handful of women working in this building. But that number must have been larger at one point, since there are 8 stalls.) This seemed a bit odd, since there were plenty of toilet paper left. Why did they need to put another roll in? But oh well.

Several days later another roll showed up. Then another. Then another. Today I walked in and about laughed right out loud. There were seven rolls of toilet paper in my stall. This is getting quite ridiculous. I was curious now. Were the other stalls as bad? A quick look around informed me that between 8 stalls there were 45 rolls of toilet paper. I'm really hoping that this is some sort of passive-aggressive revenge between a janitor and her supervisor. (In my head this janitor is surely female.) I really just wish I knew the story behind it. I suppose I'll have to make up my own version. Also, I'm wondering what will happen when there is no longer room to balance rolls upon the holder and the back of the toilet. Will they start appearing on the floor? Someday, we shan't be able to walk into the bathroom... it'll be too full of toilet paper. I hope I can be here to see this day.

Amber is dying

And it makes me incredibly sad.

 

She started dying after I repotted her last time. You think it's the soil? Or the pot is too big? It seems like she's just not drinking any water anymore. The water at the bottom (it's a bottom-feeding pot) just sits there and ends up turning orange. If I water her from the top, the soil just stays moist forever.

One of her three stalks (stems?) is almost completely dead. The leaves are all gone and the stem is turning black. Another is starting to go the way of the world. The third is hanging in there, but who knows for how long.

Help! Any ideas of how to keep Amber alive?

Breaking Social Norms

Today is a day lacking of elevator etiquette. Heartless and I got on the elevator in the parking garage to be met by an adorably cute old man who greeted us with, "Good morning! Have a great day!" And then we stayed in the elevator with him for another floor. Typically you don't stick around when someone tells you to have a great day. So it seemed a bit awkward. But he was super nice and let us get out of the elevator before him and everything.

On the elevator up from lunch, a bunch of us got on and formed your typical circle around the walls of the elevator, broken only where the door opens. The last guy to get on the elevator got on, filled that empty spot, and faced into the elevator. We were now a complete circle (well, rectangle, really) all looking at each other. He didn't even look down or into space. He purposefully looked around at each of us and the food we were holding. Again, awkward.

Today holds one more elevator ride when we go home. I wonder if we'll get a third story...


Also, tangent, but this elevator topic reminded me of a few weeks ago when we learned that elevators really will close on your hand, food, briefcase, camera bag, etc. It is a lie if anyone ever tells you otherwise.

Torture

I hate the sound of phones ringing and no one answering them. I think that sound alone could drive me into madness.

I work in a giant room filled with cubicles. Lots and lots of cubicles. Today, someone's phone started ringing. No one answered it. I ignored it, because phones usually only ring four or five times before the voicemail picks up, right? Apparently this person doesn't have voicemail. I started to fear this after seven or eight rings. By 10 rings, I could no longer focus on my work. I'm sure it got to 15 rings before I started whining to Yellow who told me to go answer it and tell them that no one is answering. (Of course, I was not about to do this. I didn't even know where it was coming from, nor would I even know the person even if I did find the cubicle, and lastly, I'm a big, fat chicken.) At the same time Heartless Siren, who was sitting next to me, snapped as well. She pulled out her headphones and declared that someone needed to answer the phone. I pointed to my chat with Yellow and she laughed, then went exploring to find the phone. She couldn't have taken 10 steps out of our cubicle before the phone stopped ringing. She came back and we both enjoyed the blessed silence. Silence has never before been so beautiful.

In my writhing pain, I noticed that Heartless' ethernet cord was in danger of being run over by my chair, so in the beautiful silence, I crawled under the desk to move it to safety. While down there, the phone started again. It was an odd phenomenon. while under the desk, I could have sworn it was coming from the cubicle next to us. But as I came out from under the desk, the direction the torturous ring was coming from changed several times. I really had no idea where it was coming from this time. I sat back down and cringed, sending a few more whines out to the cyber world, then silence regained its dominion. It has been silent ever since.

I rejoice in silence.

Unauthorized reproduction is encouraged

Maybe I should feed my kitties some tuna. And practice cat yodeling.

=IF(C7=TRUE,C8,D8)

Today I had a conversation via a Google Spreadsheet. No, not in the chat window like normal people, but by typing things in the various empty cells.

I think we are both officially nerds.

Test your typing speed

Thank goodness for all the typing games in elementary school, as well as my love for computers, email, instant messaging, etc. that have helped me to do so well with the keyboard.

93 words

Speed test

Change is Good

Yesterday I officially decided to move into The Cold One's old bedroom, now that she is gone. The only thing I actually got moved over was my bedding, so I slept in there last night. I rather enjoyed it. I did not have a street light shining directly on my pillow where I wanted to lay my head. There's a giant mirror on the opposite wall that reflected the window, so I fell asleep gazing at the moonlit sky, even though the window was technically out of my view. The mattress was quite comfortable. I didn't even mind the bed being up against the wall, even though it has been years since my bed has done that. It's slightly taller than I'm used to, so I actually have to hop just a bit to get in bed... noticed only when I was getting in and out of bed to hit snooze on my cell phone this morning... but I think that's ok since it makes me wake up just that much more. Also, the sun shines quite brightly through the window. It's so much easier to wake up when your bedroom is bright and sunshiny. Also, I knew immediately in which snooze the Heartless Siren woke up. Before I couldn't hear a thing in her bedroom while I was in mine. Now I am much closer and woke up to the sound of Jim Dale's voice in the air. I was quite proud of myself when I figured out exactly which book and which part of the book she was listening to within about 1.5 sentences. I love Harry Potter.

I think I will enjoy this bedroom.

I'm famous!

I have a Wikipedia page! Who knew?

Grammar lessons

Things I am currently working on:

Incorrect: The table needs set.
Correct: The table needs to be set.

Incorrect: I'm doing good.
Correct: I'm doing well/great/tired.

Incorrect: My hoodie sweater is dirty.
Correct: My hoodie sweatshirt is dirty.

The World May End Soon

Subway's 6" Chicken Bacon Ranch sandwich typically sells for $4.59 (at least, that's what the Subway I went to listed the price as). For only $.41 more, I could upgrade to a footlong. Talk about a great deal. So, obviously, I did it.



Here's the really crazy part. I ate the entire thing. I may even still be hungry.

Pining

Today I was really late getting into the office becuase I had a meeting at BYU. After the meeting I had to stop by my house to grab my iPod cord to do some research for my boss. As I was walking into the house, I turned on the sprinkler (might as well let my lawn drink while I'm home), then I paused to listen to the sounds of children playing outside, then grabbed the mail, then walked in the house. I was overcome by the desire to just be home. I wanted to clean the kitchen and weed the garden. I was ready to go plant flowers and play outside. I had no desire to grab the things I needed and go back to work. But, I did it anyway. I was responsible that way. [sigh]

As I left, I drove by Kiwanis Park and saw a bunch of kids flying kites. Ok, let's be honest, I don't know how to fly a kite. I'm not sure I've ever gotten one up in the air and had it stay. But I love watching them. Watching kids fly kites all over Temple Mount was one of the most fun things about sitting on the roof at Eche Homo in Jerusalem. I remember Brother Jr.'s friend coming over to fly kites in our field, but I was too little, so they wouldn't let me fly them. So I watched. As I watched these kids fly kites today, my first thought was, "I want to be outside watching kids fly kites."

I don't think this summer is going to be good for my job. The warmer it gets, the more I itch to be home and outside. The more I want to be outside, the less I want to go to work. Now, don't get me wrong. I love my job. I couldn't ask for a better job; I really couldn't. This has absolutely nothing to do with me not liking my job. Rather, it simply has to do with me not wanting to not be a working woman for life. I don't know how anyone who reads my blog could doubt this about me.

Beatrice, 1

The Cold One has left me. It is very sad. I weep.

But she gets to live in London and tour Europe. I can't fault her for that.

Upon leaving me, she also left one of her dependents, Beatrice, in my care. I think this might be fun. Beatrice came to us last year. She and her sister, Viola, lived out on our back porch. When I got home from Jerusalem, The Cold One was in Florida and had left me instructions to please take good care of them. I had not yet developed my green thumb with plants. In fact, I was even really bad about taking care of my garden. Needless to say, I forgot to water them and they nearly died. Luckily, The Cold One came back and saved the day. Nursed back to health, they bloomed beautifully for the rest of the summer. When winter came, they were moved inside where no one actually expected them to live. We had prepped ourselves all summer to let them go when the weather got cold. Miraculously, they survived. The Cold One was very attentive and talked to them quite often. Spare Oom became the PICU (Plant Intensive Care Unit). Several other plants of mine that were dying got moved back there for Cold One to save. Over the winter, I developed my green thumb and started saving plants instead of killing them. Soon most of the plants were moved out of PICU and into to the rest of the house. Beatrice and Viola stayed in PICU, due to their fragile state.

Sadly, Viola became infested with bugs and we had to let her go before she spread the disease to the other plants. It was a mournful day. Beatrice held strong, however. She is one tough cookie. That doesn't mean she was healthy, by any means. Although she had new growth, she also had many dead or dying leaves and stalks. Sadly, much of the new growth was at the end of the dying stalks.

This morning, The Cold One officially moves out, placing Beatrice in my care. In my first move as Caretaker, I decided to give Beatrice a hair cut...cut her back so that she can grow more beautifully. I figure if the dead parts were gone, she could focus her energy and strength and nutrition more on the living parts. In order to make The Cold One's separation more bearable, I have decided to document the life of Beatrice whilst she is away. Thus, here are pictures of Beatrice's hair cut.

Here is Beatrice, post haircut. She's looking a bit sparse, but we're hoping for her to fill out again as summer comes and we can move her outside.

Note all of the trimmings around her. Also, please note the brownness of the trimmings and the greenness of Beatrice. This is happy. The pile next to her reminds me greatly of when I get a hair cut and it looks like there's a dead cat on the floor. I think Beatrice and I are kindred spirits.


Until next time... pray for Beatrice.

Green Thumb

Uffish Thought and dimmi are both not good for me. I've become quite obsessed of plants as of late. It started when Chillylint introduced me to Plant Day up at the COB. Then she started giving me starts of plants. This combined with a start Sister had given me slowly became an obsession. I believe we have 8 plants in our cubicle at work. I have 10 at home, plus several starts working on becoming plants, though I think I'll give those away.

Now that it's starting to become warm outside, I've been itching to start my garden, but it's way too early to plant most plants, as the last chance of frost isn't until sometime in May. I've stemmed my urgings a little by looking at flowers that will survive this time of year and almost went and bought some (though time ran out. This is scheduled for sometime this week instead). I've dragged several people out to my garden and pointed out flowers growing in there, where it needs to be weeded, back over to flower beds where we have these really cool succulents and made Laser Jock dig up a giant thorny plant that attacked my poor bare foot. I've also taken to watering my sadly dead lawn again. Also, I dug up all my carrots from last year, so if anyone wants any carrots, I have lots.

Then Uffish and dimmi go and blog about starting their garden inside! Who does such a thing? This is a thought I had never before considered. But reading their blogs, the suppressed urges burst out and I am now the proud owner of a starter kit, not quite full yet. (Maybe I'll get some flower seeds?) It is now growing Roma Tomatoes, Cherry Tomatoes, Onions, Green Peppers, Carnival Peppers, Banana Peppers, Broccoli and Sunflowers. When it gets later in the season, I will plant Green Beans, Peas, Potatoes, Green Onions, Carrots, Beets, Zucchini, Pumpkin, Oregano and maybe more Strawberries outside. I've decided to give up on Corn this year. Also, I think I'll give up on melons.

I am becoming obsessed with plants, methinks.

Addedum to Monsters

So, the whole point of writing the Monster Book of Monster post was because as I was thumbing through one page at a time, I would look at the first line to see if it matched the first line of the digital page. Every once in awhile the top line would only be the last few words of a sentence at the end of a paragraph, and they were really entertaining. The only fun part of the whole thing, really. (Well, except the fact that I love a good puzzle and being able to conquer this book was rather happy for me.) They were so amazing, in fact, that I wanted to share them with the world. Here they are, for your viewing pleasure:

- persistent romantic legend
- beer at that time
- there had Moses, b. 1652
- eagle neck quarter

The Monster Book of Monsters

You thought the book in Harry Potter was bad? Well, I found the Muggle equivalent. You can see the book here.

I walked into work sometime last week when Elder Pretzel stopped me and told me he had a project for me. He then handed me a book. It was a relatively small book, bound in black, with "Supplement 8" stamped in gold on front. It didn't look like it could possibly be all that scary, so without a second thought, I took it from him and asked what the project was. This was a bad idea. I should have called in sick that day; I should have walked past him and pretend I didn't hear his plea. Sometimes, I am simply too nice. It didn't take me long to figure out that there was a serious problem with the binding of the book when he started to show me the page numbers that counted down instead of up. I took the book back to my cubicle and sat down to do some serious investigation.

I ended up making a copy of the title page and putting post it notes all over the book to indicate where new chapters started and whether the pages were going left to right or right to left. According to the title page, there are two chapters numbered IV. Luckily, none of the actual chapters in the book were numbered, so I just ignored the numbers in the Title Page and used 1, 2, 3, etc. Also, please note on the Title Page that IV is Genetic Information, then three chapters later (VI... which 6 is not three chapters after 4) is Titles, explanation. Now, look at the actual page it is found on. The two chapters are on the same page in the opposite order. Then, when I got to the Hereditary Societies, I had no idea if they were going from left to right or right to left. I could see no logic behind the sorting of them. Finally I had to take it into Polar Aunt who is much more of a genealogist than I am, and she showed me how they really were in alphabetical order.

Finally, three days later, when I finally had it figured out, I took it back to Elder Pretzel so that he could rescan the book in the correct order. He finished and I grabbed the folder of tif files and replaced the folder with the old scans I had from before when they scanned it out of order. Then I started to build a digital table of contents. Well, true to craziness form, only one section of the book had page numbers, so trying to paginate (the process of making a spreadsheet with a row for every page, listing the page number, any page heading, and the chapter it belongs to) was nigh unto impossible. Finally I made the executive decision to break the rules and skip pagination and do it on the fly while Kofaxing (the process of cropping and adding metadata to a book).

Next step, import files into Kofax. This I did, then started cropping. Halfway through cropping I realized that for one section of the book, every other page was a repeat of another section of the book. It's like a handful of pages were duplicated and inserted into every other page. Lots of troubleshooting later, it turns out that when I replaced the old book with the new book, it decided to be ridiculous and kept some of the pages of the old book and put them in the new book. I have no idea how this happened since I replaced a folder with a folder, not files with files... but somehow, that's what happened.

Today I came into work, determined to finish this book. So I sat at my computer, clicking digitally through the book one page at a time, while turning the pages in the physical book one at a time with my other hand, deleting the pages that were wrong. Three times through the book later, I finally felt confident that all the pages were correct.

Next came Validation. This is the module where you enter the page numbers, page headings, and chapter headings. You typically do this with the digital table of contents created earlier, but since I skipped it, I was making it up as I went. It wasn't too bad, actually, except for one small thing. The Chapter Heading field is a sticky field, meaning, you only have to type "Chapter One" in one page, then it will stay there for every subsequent page, until you change it. Then it will change for every subsequent page, etc., etc. Now, once it is in a page, it will stay there until you manually change it. So, if I entered in "Chapter One" for 20 pages, then realized it changed to "Chapter Two" for the last 10 pages, I would have to go back and manually change that field for every incorrect page. Hey, guess what I did? [rolls eyes] I thought I had them all fixed, though.

After finally finishing this nightmare of a book, I released it and begged The Heartless Siren to load it, even though she was done loading books for that collection for the day, simply so I could blog about it and link to it. She did. Bless her. I started blogging about it and opened the link to the book only to find that in one page I had typed "Sanders To Caesar" and the rest of the pages in that chapter got "Sanders to Caesar".

Another thing about chapter headings. What CONTENTdm (the hosting site) will do is look at the chapter heading in the metadata and create a folder by that name. When it gets to the next page, if the chapter heading is exactly the same, it will put that page in the same folder. If the chapter heading changes in the slightest, it will create a new folder by that name. So I had two chapters. "Sanders To Caesar" had one page and "Sanders to Caesar" had eight pages. So I fixed it. (Good thing I was blogging about it, eh?) And just now, as I went to count how many pages the second section had, I realized that I had combined the chapters incorrectly and it went page 61, 60, 62. That's right, I can't count. So I just fixed that. And now it's indexing. And, of course, I just realized that Heartless and I learned today that you don't have to index after changing the structure of a page. Brilliant. 15 minutes of waiting for an index for no reason.

The book is now complete, happy and fixed. If you find any problems with this book, please never tell me. I might throw it at you.