Goodbyes suck

Having moved more than once or twice in my life, I'm used to having to part with people.

But sometimes it just really sucks to have to say goodbye.

Some situations, while "normal" and completely expected, are still sucky goodbye moments.

Sucky.

A lot can happen in 12 weeks

Apparently I can be so frustrating I inspire people to use fake swear words.

I don't know if this is a compliment (me, standing my ground) or a bad thing (obvious reasons) . . .

Hot, Salty Tears

I am frequently amazed at how happy I can be and how quickly someone can take that away, or vice versa.

Two examples:
1. Yesterday was a pretty crappy day. Some stuff happened at work, my sister was trying to drive through a blizzard, other life stresses were going on. Mild consolation: I got to cook for people. I love cooking and baking and I especially love feeding people. I was grateful that it was my turn for dinner group. But it wasn't until my visiting teachers came over at 9 pm that I was truly able to turn my day around. I will forever be grateful to Jessica and Kathryn for their visit last night and for soothing my soul. They have no idea how empty my spiritual vessel was and I could never express or explain how much they helped. The rest of my night was amazing.

2. As you may have noticed, the previous blog was only posted about an hour and a half ago. I was thrilled. On cloud nine. Doing mental jumping jacks. Knowing world peace could happen. Then, a series of phone calls at work where a "phantom customer" couldn't be found among three sister companies finally got thrown in my lap, even though I tried every way I could think of to find out which company this person could call to get results and ours wasn't it. Twenty minutes full of yelling, personal fiery darts, sarcastic comments, thinly-veiled threats and a complete misunderstanding of how much we actually did the for the customer later, I finally hung up the phone and began to sob. I just had to run and hide in the bathroom because a customer walked in and I couldn't stand to face her with puffy eyes and salty tear trails still visible on my cheeks.

It's amazing what one person can do. For good or evil. Please choose good. Know that I am trying to consciously trying to choose good, too.

Dying Happy

Holy.
Crap.

I can die happy, once the new blog I've discovered is done completing itself.

*melts into pool of joy*

Daylight Savings

Last night, something magical happened--my body finally switched into the right time zone.

It's a beautiful thing, when I wake up at 7 something and it's light outside so my body wants to get up. (Which, for the record, I didn't do today until about an hour later because it was just too darn nice to stay under my blanket.)

Frustrated

Slow drivers are frustrating. But the reason I find them frustrating is because they're not going the posted speed limit. I mean, when you're stuck on a small back road, or whatever, and you're trudging along at a 15 mph pace when you know you can be going 30 (or even 45) how many of you don't roll your eyes and hope that they'll take the next driveway home?

The one thing even more aggravating then someone who is not going the speed limit is the punk who rides your tail even if you are already going over the speed limit. First of all, it's unsafe to be driving that close to someone. If something (like me, stopping suddenly) were to happen, you'd be all up ons and I would, hardcore, blame the accident on you*. Second of all, take a moment to look at the posted speed limit. Sure, it's frustrating that it's 25 mph which doesn't suit your expensive little sports car, but, hey, if you want to drive fast, get a job that requires you to commute for twenty minutes on the highway. I'm already being risky and driving 5 - 7 over and I don't appreciate you making me feel unsafe and squimish the entire commute.

*You is obviously a very loose term in this case. I'm 99% sure that anyone who reads this blog has never ridden my tail.

Posession is 9/10ths of the law

It's another list. Don't judge. :p

Things (actual things) I'm grateful to have:

1. The scriptures I was given when I turned eight. Complete with a lack of the Abrahamic Covenant. (If you want a longer story, I'll post it in the comments.)
2. Entries from my father's journal from (nearly) every birthday I had. Including my actual BIRTH day. :D
3. My scrapbooks. Because I happen to like people, taking pictures of people, remembering fun things, having names and dates put in an orderly fashion, and doing things with my hands.
4. My "Grandpa pillow." Because my aunt Janette made it from one of my grandfather's shirts and it means the world to me to have it close, since I can't be with him for (at least) a few more years.
5. My "Book of Remembrance" which was compiled by my grandmother when I was baptized and is still (safe) at home. It happens to include genealogy all the way back to the 1500s, I believe (it's, like, 16 generations).

"There now, steady love"

Three worst parts of this weekend:
1) After such beautiful weather, it got really cold and snowed
2) Being subjected to dizzy fits for half of it
3) Being left to "fend for myself" Saturday late-morning

Eight best parts of this weekend:
1) Still being able to work a full day on Friday (which will half make up for missing all day Wednesday and two-thirds of Thursday)
2) Being able to witness an awesome jam session on Saturday night
3) Attending the Draper temple dedication Sunday afternoon
4) Finding out my parents will be coming out for my birthday (which is extra awesome because I haven't celebrated my birthday with them in 6 years)
5) Finding out I actually helped someone feel better about life
6) I had time to go through a TON of old pictures (scrapbooked some of them) and enjoy the memories that resurfaced
7) Finding out a good friend will be married and sealed for all eternity in a couple of months
8) Being able to sing most of the weekend, despite my throat feeling all sorts of funny

Around and around and around . . .

One of the worst feelings in the world: thinking you're all better and then relapsing.

Boo. :(

"I'm not dead yet!"

The last couple of days have been interesting. Usually when I'm sick, I'm out for a bit (generally 24 hours or a week, depending on what I get). However, this time, I was up and down a lot. There'd be a couple of hours where I could hardly move due to the crazy throbbing in my head and then, suddenly, I'd feel fine enough to get up and cook. Or, my favorite, when I suddenly couldn't stand to be cooped up in my own apartment and suggested to Clark that we go on a walk and really only made it as far as the manager's office before I thought I was going to fall over (it's a good thing we picked up contracts and he was expecting his family a couple of minutes from then or I might have had some serious issues).

But, even though I haven't been feeling my very best, I AM grateful that I got sick. Why? Well, mainly because it gave me an excuse to rest--I know I've been needing that for a while. But, also, it helped me realize what good bosses I have. On Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday they were very understanding and insisted I stay home and get better (or leave early, as the case may be).

I've got the never-get-any-sleep blues . . .

I have no motivation to want to sleep right now, except that I'll be completely dead tomorrow for work if I don't. However, that has never stopped me before. Alas, I am a slacker.

Tickle me pink!

Today I have "craved" music with colors. I know, I know, it doesn't really make sense but, hey, this is me we're talking about. The list of songs that has made me happy today:

Blueside, Rooney
Grace Kelly, Mika ("I could be brown, I could blue, I could be violet sky!")
Paint it Black, Vanessa Carlton cover
Lady in Red, Chris de Burgh
Nights in White Satin, Moody Blues (?)
Grey Sky Morning, Vertical Horizon
Baby's in Black, the Beatles
Yellow, Coldplay

It's good stuff, kids.

You don't know me . . .

* shiver * Sometimes the technicians I have to work with over the phone are so *weird*. And hit on me, which is creepy, because I've never met them.

Apartment pictures!

This weekend, my roommates and I decided to take apartment pictures (yeah, we're kind of cool like that). Anyway, here are some highlights!

All I ever hear when I see a tree is "hug that tree. Hug it!"

Um, Emily is making a face, apparently . . .

I love this picture. A lot.

Shady dealings!

Tender.

Becca is trying to be scared, seeing as she's tied to the railroad tracks.

Heather's eyes are gorgeous. This picture is proof.

I'm fairly sure we like each other. :D


Apartment picture!

This is my "pole shot." Thanks, Michelle. :p

You fill me with so much hope! ("It makes me want to tear-bend!")

A Night Owl Reflects on the Early Worm

Sunday mornings are always pretty awesome. It's the only day of the week when I wake up before the rest of my roommates (I know, I know, I'm weird--why wake up "early" on the weekends?) which gives me a chance to have some alone time. Quite often I think about my family, life, and other important things. I don't necessarily find answers to whatever ponderings may be perculating, but I certainly have peace and peace of mind these mornings and that's nearly as good and definitely helpful.

Stupidity is . . .

. . . when you go running for the first time in who-knows-how-long, REALLY running, and then procede to spend the night in a house where you *have* to go up and down the 14 stairs at least every hour.

Sesqui-post. Also, Mulder is cool

Once upon a time, there was an apartment of lovely girls. These girls were pretty frawesome in that they were good people, had nice friends and tried to do the right thing.

Then, one day, one of the ladies of the house was awoken by her roommate saying an FBI investigative agent was at the front door. Curious (and a little groggy), the maiden arose and went to get the scoop.

I don't know how much I'm allowed to post on the Internet but I will say that having an ACTUAL FBI agent at your front door is both thrilling and terrifying. Also, having questions like "do you know if so-and-so is loyal to the United States Government?" thrown at you will definitely mess with the mind.

Trippy, I know. But, DANG. I've met with a real FBI agent!

(And, in honor or that, here is a picture of me outside the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building from my trip to DC a few years ago.)

Surprise!

I don't think I need to prelude this post with anything:

Harry Potter Trailer!

It's a surprise trailer! And it's GOOD! And there are only 133 days left until the movie is (finally) released!

Why, yes, I would like fries with that

Okay, ladies (ladies . . . )

Tell me honestly:

When you go/went to the doctor and they have/had to do an x-ray and they ask that ridiculous question "is there a chance you may be pregnant" do you ever answer "no" and listen, painfully, as they repeat themselves? Or was that just me? And if it was just me, was it because I didn't answer with enough conviction? Or was it because I was a teenage Hispanic girl (because, let's face it, there are stereotypes out there)? Or because I was less-than-skinny?

Just wondering.

At least I'm consistent!

There is a sweet older gentleman who calls in to our office every other month, or so, and he analyzes voices as a hobby. He tells me my voice is crisp and clear, has a lilt (which implies friendliness) and I say things in a sure manner, which helps people believe me. Every time.

Huzzah!

"She wore an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny . . . "

After two days of Gmail NOT letting me access anything, here is my weekend update:

DANCE PICTURES!

Apparently, I can't pose for pictures with Clark. I submit the following as proof:


Well, actually, I really like this next picture. A lot.


And, sometimes, I giggle uncontrollably.


Aha! A semi-normal one!


And now, here are a couple of "dress shots" for my mom.




And a shot of me and Michelle: