today I saw huntman.
today i saw a cowboy with wranglers, boots, and a hat.
i saw his jawline and sideburns, his nose.
i saw the curling of his smile.
i saw his broad shoulders.
i saw his strong hands.
today i saw a perfect stranger. today that perfect stranger resembled huntman so much I thought it was him. i did a double take, and then a triple. and then i stared. when my rational caught up with my senses it hit me that hunter is half way around the world.
today my heart felt raw. this young man who might have been his twin stared right back, no recollection of who i am because we have never met. and yet, for a split second I expected he would, that he would know me, what i was feeling and how much he looked like huntman. but he did not, he could not.
“dear john” is not the movie to see right after you thought you just saw the man you love who you have not seen in almost 8 months. no. that is a terrible terrible thing to do. because the characters have long absences from one another, because they write letters, because they talk about missing each other so much it hurts, because these actors convey an inkling of what i am feeling. because watching them made me remember things I have not allowed myself to think about in 8 months, things I have shoved so far back into my subconscious Freud would have a hard time recovering them: promises before i left wyoming, our final hug, kiss, and glance, his voice, how I feel completely at home and safe when i am with him.
today i am not okay. most days i’m tough, i’m strong, i’m independent.
today i am not.
today i just miss huntman and want to be with him. today i want these 2 years to be over so i don’t have to wait anymore.
tomorrow i will be okay. tomorrow will be better. and after 500 and something more tomorrows, hunter will be home.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
thai food... you complete me
It appears my blog has been somewhat cynical as of late. Mixed in there's a wee bit of wit and my brand of humor but definitely bordering (okay, way over) the line of dripping with sarcasm. So I thought I would write about something which I am completely genuine about-- food. Specifically, Thai food.
My love for this ethnic food is... perhaps indescribable. If I had to eat one meal every day for the rest of my life (other than Saltines) it would be yellow curry for the entree and mangoes and sticky rice for dessert. If you haven't experienced Thai food, whoa! You are missing out and need to rectify that sore grievance pronto! Thai food has this quality of spiciness and sweetness. And, *Bonus*, not only that it’s high percentage of vegetables used and coconut milk means it is, in fact, somewhat beneficially healthy as well as delectable in your mouth and tummy.
CuRRY
Curry is my favorite. Wherever I go I must order curry, or at least ensure someone else will (since we usually eat the dishes family style). My frequent-Thai-eating friends know me well in that I always always order yellow curry. Always. There are 3 "colors" of curry: yellow, green, and red. Yellow is the bomb.com and more on the sweet mellow side. I really can't get enough of it-- it always tastes perfect to me. Green is spicy and very flavorful, typically with lots of bell peppers (it's my second favorite). Red... I'm not a huge fan but it can be good. To me it just seems spicy and not very flavorful. There are endless combinations and types of curries: pineapple, masaman (its base is peanuts, giving a nutty quality to the taste), panang, and many others. Curry is best with chicken as the meat, in my opinion, because it doesn't overpower the flavor but adds protein.
oN The MeNu
There are many stir-fry type dishes when viewing a Thai menu. Some restaurants have close to 25! Vegetables are a huge part of every Thai dish. The sauces have a wide range and rarely disappoint. Noodles are another part of Thai food dishes. I do like pad-thai but, don't hate me, I am not a gigantic fan of pat-si-ew. The taste is wonderful… but the texture of the wide-egg noodles gets to me, quickly.
JaSMiNe
Another factor in the amazing-ness of Thai food is the prominence of jasmine rice with nearly every dish. I use to think “rice is rice”. Oh no. It is not. Compared to Rice-a-Roni or minute-rice, Jasmine slaughters them all. Only if you’ve truly experienced the subtle hint of sweetness can you fathom the incredibleness. Ah. Just thinking about it makes me happy. I could eat the rice plain.
DeSSeRT
Perhaps the best part of Thai food is the dessert. Oh. My. Heavens.
1. Mangoes and Sticky Rice: a sweet juicy ripe mango is cut in slices, served atop sweetened specially cooked rice (I think they combine sweet and condensed milk with coconut over the rice). There is always room for this dessert in my belly.
2. Coconut Ice Cream: creamy coconut milk is incorporated into pure ice cream, topped with slivers of real coconut and raspberries. Divine!
3. Roadies: crepe-like pancake tortilla thing drizzled with sweet and condensed milk or nutella. Gloria!
The other thing about Thai food is that I never get sick of it. Ever. My brother went to Thailand for medical school research and upon his return not only got me hooked on Thai food but taught me how to make a few dishes. One week during the summer I went a little crazy and had a curry binge, making and eating it 5 times within 7 days.
Also, I don’t get full. After a bowl of spaghetti or an enchilada I’m good. But Thai food I can shovel down like there’s no tomorrow, and still want more. I’ve mastered a smidgen of self-control over time and can tell when I should stop before my stomach explodes, but it is not an easy task.
To close I have recommendations of Thai places to try:
1. Spicy Thai. Provo, UT (on University Ave. up north by Magelby’s, before you hit Riverwoods). My brother and I went there earlier this week and it’s the best! Seriously. The curry was ah-mazing—spicy, good consistency, and well priced. They have lunch specials but dinner isn’t bad. For a bowl of curry and rice it was around $8.00. The mangoes and sticky rice was divine. The best I have ever had. Mmmm.
2. Thai Ruby. Provo, UT (south east of BYU campus). The great thing about this place is it’s within walking distance of my apartment. The food is good and atmosphere is seemingly authentic and cool. Unfortunately it is a little pricier, with dishes being around $11 or $12.
3. Simply Thai. Sandy, UT (by Seagull Book and Tape, off 10600 South exit). The owner of this place is adorable. She is the mother of one of my brother’s medical school friends so she loves when my family comes in. The curry is thicker but delicious, and you get a WHOLE lot for around $13. It isn’t as spicy as other Thai places I’ve tried and is slightly “Americanized” with sugar. This is where they have the coconut ice cream that makes you want to die and go to heaven. Or at least take another bite.
My love for this ethnic food is... perhaps indescribable. If I had to eat one meal every day for the rest of my life (other than Saltines) it would be yellow curry for the entree and mangoes and sticky rice for dessert. If you haven't experienced Thai food, whoa! You are missing out and need to rectify that sore grievance pronto! Thai food has this quality of spiciness and sweetness. And, *Bonus*, not only that it’s high percentage of vegetables used and coconut milk means it is, in fact, somewhat beneficially healthy as well as delectable in your mouth and tummy.
CuRRY
oN The MeNu
There are many stir-fry type dishes when viewing a Thai menu. Some restaurants have close to 25! Vegetables are a huge part of every Thai dish. The sauces have a wide range and rarely disappoint. Noodles are another part of Thai food dishes. I do like pad-thai but, don't hate me, I am not a gigantic fan of pat-si-ew. The taste is wonderful… but the texture of the wide-egg noodles gets to me, quickly.
JaSMiNe
DeSSeRT
Perhaps the best part of Thai food is the dessert. Oh. My. Heavens.
1. Mangoes and Sticky Rice: a sweet juicy ripe mango is cut in slices, served atop sweetened specially cooked rice (I think they combine sweet and condensed milk with coconut over the rice). There is always room for this dessert in my belly.
The other thing about Thai food is that I never get sick of it. Ever. My brother went to Thailand for medical school research and upon his return not only got me hooked on Thai food but taught me how to make a few dishes. One week during the summer I went a little crazy and had a curry binge, making and eating it 5 times within 7 days.
Also, I don’t get full. After a bowl of spaghetti or an enchilada I’m good. But Thai food I can shovel down like there’s no tomorrow, and still want more. I’ve mastered a smidgen of self-control over time and can tell when I should stop before my stomach explodes, but it is not an easy task.
To close I have recommendations of Thai places to try:
1. Spicy Thai. Provo, UT (on University Ave. up north by Magelby’s, before you hit Riverwoods). My brother and I went there earlier this week and it’s the best! Seriously. The curry was ah-mazing—spicy, good consistency, and well priced. They have lunch specials but dinner isn’t bad. For a bowl of curry and rice it was around $8.00. The mangoes and sticky rice was divine. The best I have ever had. Mmmm.
2. Thai Ruby. Provo, UT (south east of BYU campus). The great thing about this place is it’s within walking distance of my apartment. The food is good and atmosphere is seemingly authentic and cool. Unfortunately it is a little pricier, with dishes being around $11 or $12.
3. Simply Thai. Sandy, UT (by Seagull Book and Tape, off 10600 South exit). The owner of this place is adorable. She is the mother of one of my brother’s medical school friends so she loves when my family comes in. The curry is thicker but delicious, and you get a WHOLE lot for around $13. It isn’t as spicy as other Thai places I’ve tried and is slightly “Americanized” with sugar. This is where they have the coconut ice cream that makes you want to die and go to heaven. Or at least take another bite.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
stupid boys
I like to think that women in general have discovered the universal phenomenon that BOYS ARE STUPID. Plainly stated, that’s how it goes. Most of us came to that realization on the playground while primped in our flower dresses boys threw mud and taunted us with cooties, chucked paper planes and gum into our hair, and later found out it was because they… liked us?... But I digress… back to the “boys” in our lives who are of comparable ages: dense, cocky, perverted, hypocrites… etc.
Now I’m not talking here about the male species in general—please don’t misunderstand. No no no. We love the “actual men” who have learned to curb or extinguish the idiosyncrasies which pop into their manly minds and emulate genuine respect to the women they are surrounded by whether it be acquaintances, friends, or potentially a girlfriend or wife. They are wonderful, they are charming, they give us hope that little boys will one day grow up and stop throwing dirt clods and snapping our bra straps.
My observation, as of late, has been that although there are those magnificent men in the wide world (seen most observably in the form of our fathers and other such gentlemen who generally have had more life experience), some boys just never quite grow up. And if anything, they revert past their playground days to who knows where by establishing un-amiable attributes.
Example #1: Depot Boy
My bestie Chelsea recently transferred to another Home Depot store. At her work there is a lot attendant by the name of Tony (who instantly triggers an image of a dirty greasy Italian man). Anyways, he was consistently pestering my dear bestie to be set up with one of her “hot single friends”-- which I supposedly qualify as being. Following her plea to go on one date with this “winner” in order for him to leave her be, I acquiesced to let her give him my number.
She warned me he’s been inactive for a while and just recently started coming back to church, as well as the fact that he has gauged ears and a tattoo—totally totally not my thing! In fact, gross (on the gauged ears thing—tattoos are a little bit cool). BUT I figured, “Hey, I should get out every once in a while and one date won’t hurt, right? Maybe he’s a really cool guy. Maybe I can be a good influence”. Yata. Yata . Yata. Ai carumba being the end result.
So while I am working an 8 hour shift Chelsea is giving me the updates: “I gave him your number”, “He added you on Facebook!”. Of course I have to wait to see what he’s like, according to Facebook, for several more hours to ensure he’s not a complete crazy. Then I get the text of “Hey stranger”. Long story short, Tony and I text for the remainder of my shift trying to get to know each other through texting (I know, right? What is the world coming to?!) and he promises to call me the next day and we can set something up. Okay, whatever. I’m pretty indifferent to the whole thing. I check out his profile on Facebook since he “requested me as a friend”… and I just can’t see a date with this boy going well. I don’t hear from him all weekend—which honestly is fine by me, I’m the one dodging the bullet here.
THEN at lunch today I say to Chels, “You know I haven’t heard from Tony”. Apparently, once he found out I worked at Home Depot, he didn’t want to take me out. Wait a second. He works at Home Depot… Huh… Doesn’t that classify him as slightly hypocritical? Weird? Strange? Dumb-boyish-ness shining through? I think so.
As I let my mind wander I hypothesized Tony probably envisioned some dainty blonde cheerleader who googles over his muscles and can’t lift a gallon of milk. Once he found out I worked at Home Depot he was intimidated by the sheer ginormity of my arm muscles from lifting gallons of paint and packages of concrete and fertilizer. Or maybe he doesn’t like his girls in orange. . .
Regardless, to end this little fiasco and not let him get away with that complete load of crap I sent him a little text to end things the way they began.
I haven’t heard back. Peace out, Tony dear. Maybe one day you’ll be able to take out a Home Depot girl, but today is not that day and I am not that girl!
Example #2 Perverted Engaged Boy
There is a boy who epitomizes what every mother hopes their daughters never come across. A pretentious pervert who doesn’t think before he speaks and most certainly doesn’t think before he acts. No censorship on the mouth of his… he’s only got one thing on his mind. And I mean, one thing. Even the most innocent of girls can tell what that is by the way he stares you down and the innuendos he slips into conversation. Dirty dirty boy. He never quite outgrew the mud stage and decided he had better taint the rest of his life with filth.
My first encounter with this boy was several months back at my work. I had seen him around but hadn’t paid much attention. I went in one evening to check my schedule, therefore I was not on the clock. He called me into Tool Rental as I passed by. I sympathized; I know how boring work can be, especially by yourself on a week-night evening when there are all but 7 customers in the store. I did not know what kind of a boy he was or I never would have subjected myself to such an encounter.
He began the conversation by asking if I was single-- some people apparently had wanted to know. He then asked if I was a virgin. Um… not a typical question to ask during a first conversation… I promptly replied that yes, yes I was and yes I will remain until married! He pushed with a leer of “well, how good of a Mormon girl are you?” I don’t drink, do drugs, or have sex! Nor have I. By now I’m more than creeped out. I change the subject—inquiring about the ring he was wearing on his freaking ring finger!
He sighed, “Yeah... I’m engaged. Getting married in the SL temple in April”
Sweet. He’s engaged. This is good. I can run away now.
He then proceeded to tell me that he was sent home from his mission early for having sex with one of the members! (and no, this is not the girl he’s marrying) Keep in mind, this is well within the first 5 minutes of our conversation. BUT, he rationalizes, that it was because he had been “Dear Johned”, and his companion just “happened” to not wake up, and one thing led to another and… Ohhh… how do you react to that? If I recall correctly, isn’t there a rule you’re not really suppose to bring up past transgressions? And being sent home from your mission early by disregarding you own and another person’s chastity is not really something to be bragging about or telling some wide-eyed girl in your first conversation with her.
Then he says, and I quote:
“You know, if I wasn’t engaged I would so totally be hitting on you and we would so totally be going on dates”.
That’s when I giggled nervously, excused myself, and ran away from Tool Rental.
He still waves at me every time I go past and complains that I don’t come visit him. And just WHY would I subject myself to that again? After a time he stopped being completely creepy—you would just notice it as he stared at you and everything else female that moves—even though, might I remind you, he’s engaged!
Then on valentine’s day, that joyous love day, I was working. Sitting in the break room eating some Ritz, he came in to clock out. I decided I should take the high road, be nice, since it was Valentine’s and all. We began a casual conversation about the sugar cookies they had bought for us employees, specifically about the bright blue frosting on one of them. He was saying how sugar cookies were so rewarding. Mmm yes I mused.
“Do you know what else would be rewarding?... (eyebrow raise)… a lap dance from you”
“What?!?!”
“Nothing nothing…” and he clocked out and ran away.
Per. Vert.
How did we go from cookies to lap dances? One thing, and one thing only, I tell you is on his mind.
A few days later he brought in his fiancée. I was so tempted to say, "Hey, did you know your fiancee is an unmitigated disgusting little boy who basically requested a lap dance from me? Oh yes, and also that he hits on girls who are underage-- as in high schoolers?!? Yeah, you're planning on being sealed to him. Might want to rethink that one".
One more comment and I’m going to HR because he is ridiculous. Stupid perverted engaged boy.
Extreme examples? Perhaps. But boys are stupid. Men are wonderful.
We're far past kindergarten-- we can stop being jerk-faces, little boys. Want to be a man? Respect women by curbing crude thoughts that spring from your lips and extinguish the little lies you love to tell us. Be wonderful and charming-- maybe one day we"ll classify you as a man rather than a digressing little boy.
Now I’m not talking here about the male species in general—please don’t misunderstand. No no no. We love the “actual men” who have learned to curb or extinguish the idiosyncrasies which pop into their manly minds and emulate genuine respect to the women they are surrounded by whether it be acquaintances, friends, or potentially a girlfriend or wife. They are wonderful, they are charming, they give us hope that little boys will one day grow up and stop throwing dirt clods and snapping our bra straps.
My observation, as of late, has been that although there are those magnificent men in the wide world (seen most observably in the form of our fathers and other such gentlemen who generally have had more life experience), some boys just never quite grow up. And if anything, they revert past their playground days to who knows where by establishing un-amiable attributes.
Example #1: Depot Boy
My bestie Chelsea recently transferred to another Home Depot store. At her work there is a lot attendant by the name of Tony (who instantly triggers an image of a dirty greasy Italian man). Anyways, he was consistently pestering my dear bestie to be set up with one of her “hot single friends”-- which I supposedly qualify as being. Following her plea to go on one date with this “winner” in order for him to leave her be, I acquiesced to let her give him my number.
She warned me he’s been inactive for a while and just recently started coming back to church, as well as the fact that he has gauged ears and a tattoo—totally totally not my thing! In fact, gross (on the gauged ears thing—tattoos are a little bit cool). BUT I figured, “Hey, I should get out every once in a while and one date won’t hurt, right? Maybe he’s a really cool guy. Maybe I can be a good influence”. Yata. Yata . Yata. Ai carumba being the end result.
So while I am working an 8 hour shift Chelsea is giving me the updates: “I gave him your number”, “He added you on Facebook!”. Of course I have to wait to see what he’s like, according to Facebook, for several more hours to ensure he’s not a complete crazy. Then I get the text of “Hey stranger”. Long story short, Tony and I text for the remainder of my shift trying to get to know each other through texting (I know, right? What is the world coming to?!) and he promises to call me the next day and we can set something up. Okay, whatever. I’m pretty indifferent to the whole thing. I check out his profile on Facebook since he “requested me as a friend”… and I just can’t see a date with this boy going well. I don’t hear from him all weekend—which honestly is fine by me, I’m the one dodging the bullet here.
THEN at lunch today I say to Chels, “You know I haven’t heard from Tony”. Apparently, once he found out I worked at Home Depot, he didn’t want to take me out. Wait a second. He works at Home Depot… Huh… Doesn’t that classify him as slightly hypocritical? Weird? Strange? Dumb-boyish-ness shining through? I think so.
As I let my mind wander I hypothesized Tony probably envisioned some dainty blonde cheerleader who googles over his muscles and can’t lift a gallon of milk. Once he found out I worked at Home Depot he was intimidated by the sheer ginormity of my arm muscles from lifting gallons of paint and packages of concrete and fertilizer. Or maybe he doesn’t like his girls in orange. . .
Regardless, to end this little fiasco and not let him get away with that complete load of crap I sent him a little text to end things the way they began.
I haven’t heard back. Peace out, Tony dear. Maybe one day you’ll be able to take out a Home Depot girl, but today is not that day and I am not that girl!
Example #2 Perverted Engaged Boy
There is a boy who epitomizes what every mother hopes their daughters never come across. A pretentious pervert who doesn’t think before he speaks and most certainly doesn’t think before he acts. No censorship on the mouth of his… he’s only got one thing on his mind. And I mean, one thing. Even the most innocent of girls can tell what that is by the way he stares you down and the innuendos he slips into conversation. Dirty dirty boy. He never quite outgrew the mud stage and decided he had better taint the rest of his life with filth.
My first encounter with this boy was several months back at my work. I had seen him around but hadn’t paid much attention. I went in one evening to check my schedule, therefore I was not on the clock. He called me into Tool Rental as I passed by. I sympathized; I know how boring work can be, especially by yourself on a week-night evening when there are all but 7 customers in the store. I did not know what kind of a boy he was or I never would have subjected myself to such an encounter.
He began the conversation by asking if I was single-- some people apparently had wanted to know. He then asked if I was a virgin. Um… not a typical question to ask during a first conversation… I promptly replied that yes, yes I was and yes I will remain until married! He pushed with a leer of “well, how good of a Mormon girl are you?” I don’t drink, do drugs, or have sex! Nor have I. By now I’m more than creeped out. I change the subject—inquiring about the ring he was wearing on his freaking ring finger!
He sighed, “Yeah... I’m engaged. Getting married in the SL temple in April”
Sweet. He’s engaged. This is good. I can run away now.
He then proceeded to tell me that he was sent home from his mission early for having sex with one of the members! (and no, this is not the girl he’s marrying) Keep in mind, this is well within the first 5 minutes of our conversation. BUT, he rationalizes, that it was because he had been “Dear Johned”, and his companion just “happened” to not wake up, and one thing led to another and… Ohhh… how do you react to that? If I recall correctly, isn’t there a rule you’re not really suppose to bring up past transgressions? And being sent home from your mission early by disregarding you own and another person’s chastity is not really something to be bragging about or telling some wide-eyed girl in your first conversation with her.
Then he says, and I quote:
“You know, if I wasn’t engaged I would so totally be hitting on you and we would so totally be going on dates”.
That’s when I giggled nervously, excused myself, and ran away from Tool Rental.
He still waves at me every time I go past and complains that I don’t come visit him. And just WHY would I subject myself to that again? After a time he stopped being completely creepy—you would just notice it as he stared at you and everything else female that moves—even though, might I remind you, he’s engaged!
Then on valentine’s day, that joyous love day, I was working. Sitting in the break room eating some Ritz, he came in to clock out. I decided I should take the high road, be nice, since it was Valentine’s and all. We began a casual conversation about the sugar cookies they had bought for us employees, specifically about the bright blue frosting on one of them. He was saying how sugar cookies were so rewarding. Mmm yes I mused.
“Do you know what else would be rewarding?... (eyebrow raise)… a lap dance from you”
“What?!?!”
“Nothing nothing…” and he clocked out and ran away.
Per. Vert.
How did we go from cookies to lap dances? One thing, and one thing only, I tell you is on his mind.
A few days later he brought in his fiancée. I was so tempted to say, "Hey, did you know your fiancee is an unmitigated disgusting little boy who basically requested a lap dance from me? Oh yes, and also that he hits on girls who are underage-- as in high schoolers?!? Yeah, you're planning on being sealed to him. Might want to rethink that one".
One more comment and I’m going to HR because he is ridiculous. Stupid perverted engaged boy.
Extreme examples? Perhaps. But boys are stupid. Men are wonderful.
We're far past kindergarten-- we can stop being jerk-faces, little boys. Want to be a man? Respect women by curbing crude thoughts that spring from your lips and extinguish the little lies you love to tell us. Be wonderful and charming-- maybe one day we"ll classify you as a man rather than a digressing little boy.
Monday, February 8, 2010
the complexities of shoe shopping
I am a barefoot girl. Shoes really aren’t my thing. My sister concocted a metaphor, which I find very "fitting" and have come to embody as my personal belief and philosophy on the matter:
DaTiNG iS LiKe SHoe SHoPPiNG.
THe JoYouS BLiSS oF BaRe FeeT
Freedom. Oh, sweet freedom. No obligation, no infringement on personal space, being able to experience life without hindrance of . . . a shoe. Of course I’m talking about walking barefoot on cool summer night pavement, squishing your toes in wet grass, sinking into warm golden sand as salty sea water rushes up to meet your sun-tanned legs… Glorious. Beyond description gloriousness. Perhaps the embodiment of gloriousness. Do you know what else is glorious? The Single Life.
Yes. We moan and complain after watching “Pride and Prejudice” about how miserable we are without our own Mr. Darcy, but until you find that McDreamy, McSteamy, Prince Charming, or even a potential candidate to fill that role of “leading man” in your life, the single life is fabulous!
Yes. We moan and complain after watching “Pride and Prejudice” about how miserable we are without our own Mr. Darcy, but until you find that McDreamy, McSteamy, Prince Charming, or even a potential candidate to fill that role of “leading man” in your life, the single life is fabulous!
Ah… the single life: you don’t need to “check” with someone else if it’s okay to go out with your girls; you don’t have to consider someone else’s delicate feelings; you don’t have to worry over DTR’s, break-ups, jealous tension, or fighting over silly inconsequential things. It never crosses your mind the consequences of your actions painting the town, flirting, or sitting at home reading a book because that is in fact what you would prefer to do over spending time with a tool of a shoe. Single life is luscious liberty, the independence of bare feet hanging out the open window...
Dating is like shoe shopping. Period. Although (hypothetically) you can’t run around your entire life with naked feet, it sure is phenomenal and may as well be enjoyed.
THe PeRFeCT FiT
Cinderella’s glass slipper denotes much more than a reconnection with her missing shoe—it signifies the “PeRFeCT FiT” of her with Prince Charming. That fragile slipper went on dozens, if not hundreds, of feet around the kingdom and ultimately was discovered to only fit Cinderella. And they lived happily ever after.
And such is dating. We are shoe shopping. You’re not committing to buy that pair of shoes you’ve been wearing for a week. Some shoes you slip on for various reasons (which I will further detail below in the sub categories), others you try on because your feet are cold, some you try on for no reason at all. If the fit isn’t right, it’s okay! That’s why you shoe shop—to try on a pair, perhaps walk a few baby steps or a few hundred miles before kindly slipping them off and looking for a better fit. There’s nothing wrong with your foot or the shoe—everyone is unique requiring their own “perfect fit”. Just keep browsing, have faith that one day you will find a better-fitting shoe more custom to your taste, and that that discarded shoe will be just fine.
Some days you get that itch to go shoe shopping and it’s exhilarating and wonderful; trying on a pair brings bliss, joy, pure contentment, and is quite fun. Other days your feet ache and you want to throw any pair of shoes you come across into the trash compactor.
Life is obviously not a fairy tale. Some speculate on the existence of "sole-mates" and I myself know it is perfectly plausible to be content with varying shoes, that you can make things work and live a good happy life… But really? Isn’t everyone hoping that Prince Charming will kneel before them to offer the “perfect fit”?
I believe there is one person out there who can make you HaPPieR than all the rest, one shoe that fits your foot as near to perfection as possible, who offers support and enhances the spring in your step, one shoe you can wear rain or shine and be gloriously comfortable with, that you are devoted to and can’t imagine life without, one shoe you LoVe for all the little details of the stitching and imperfections, and who loves you back.
Who doesn’t deserve to “sing with rapture and dance like a dervish… to be deliriously happy”?!? Settling for a mediocre fit you can “deal” with because it’s at the department store or was “on sale” is really only selling yourself short. Outside of this metaphor there really aren’t any “returns” without much heartache. It’s better to wear out those shoes in the store rather than take them home too early and have “buyer’s remorse”.
That perfect fit is out there, for me, for you, for everyone, and though it may take many a shoe-trial to find, you’ll be glad you did. My perfect fit is currently on layaway but it’s better than any shoe I ever beheld window shopping or could have imagined. It makes trying on all the other terrible smelly horrendous mis-fitting shoes worth it.
THe NoT-So-PeRFeCT FiT
One look can tell you a lot about a shoe: color, material, support system, shoe size... but it must be remembered while shoe shopping that first impressions are not always accurate and can sway you from the truth of the shoe because it's "so cute", "will totally match that outfit I've been dying to wear", and "looks pretty sturdy". There are those appealing shoes, but along with them comes the instinctual feeling that the size does not match. Shoe shoppers in desperation may still wedge their toes into the too-small shoe or pad the toes of a too-big shoe in an attempt to counterfeit a "perfect fit"... but they're only fooling themselves and, sometimes, even the shoe. No good comes of pretending to be something you're not or thinking you can change that shoe to fit your pretty toes. Eventually the blisters appear or the shoe slips off and WHooPS! Time to haul that pair to D.I.
THe FLiP FLoP
Convenient. Temporary. Fun. The fit is loose, easy, and carefree- not constraining in the least. It allows you to display that new pedicure, still feel the sun on your toes and the jolting chill of the sprinkler whizzing past. Although it’s not the sturdiest of shoes and you both know that after the season there will be holes in the sole from daily wear, it’s okay. Because the sun is shining, time is flying, and that flip flop is molding right to your foot in a comfortable casual way. When the leaves begin to change, signaling its time to slip out of that flip flop, no big deal. You’ll still have the flip-flop tan lines and occasionally reminisce longingly about that almost-barefoot but still-have-a-shoe feeling… but then... you’re over it.
So many colors, so little time…and all fit about the same. True, it’s impractical to wear that flip flop to trek through 3 feet of snow but during those hot humid days and fresh calm nights, nothing fits better.
THe PRaCTiCaL BRoWN Shoe
What’s another word for practical??? Let’s think, oh yes, Booorrrring! Yeah we get that you’ll last a lifetime and are a heap a sturdy, that you would “never hurt” our poor feet but really—all you are is boring.
So, Mr. Practical Brown Shoe, I must say that although our little shoe-trial only lasted half a second, you’ve given me a headache and have forced me to implement a restraining order on all resembling practical brown shoes.
And yet-- you sit on the lowly shelf pitifully defeated and sad with your toes turned in and your laces droopy, mocking and blaming me for how my feet were made when really…YOU were the one who didn’t listen, who tried to force a fit. And IF, just supposing the possibility that you could step outside your immature 3-year-old tantrum filled with endless "whys" and "what was I to you?", you'd come to realize that I in actuality saved you much heartache by chucking you back into your box that you so “charmingly” sprung open. So, goodbye Mr. Practical Brown Shoe, it’s just not gonna work out.
And yet-- you sit on the lowly shelf pitifully defeated and sad with your toes turned in and your laces droopy, mocking and blaming me for how my feet were made when really…YOU were the one who didn’t listen, who tried to force a fit. And IF, just supposing the possibility that you could step outside your immature 3-year-old tantrum filled with endless "whys" and "what was I to you?", you'd come to realize that I in actuality saved you much heartache by chucking you back into your box that you so “charmingly” sprung open. So, goodbye Mr. Practical Brown Shoe, it’s just not gonna work out.
THe HiGH HeeL
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
my heavenly father loves me!
I am aSTouNDeD at the blessings in my life. Really. It boggles my mind how very much I have been given. I'm not trying being facetious; I merely want to acknowledge my infinite debt to my dear Heavenly Father for everything in my life.
The other Sunday I was privileged to teach about Our Heavenly Father in Relief Society. Since then I have consistently had the lyrics from one of my favorite primary songs running through my mind and swelling in my heart. In case it's been a while since your primary days, as it has been for me, here are the sweet lyrics and an accompanying video that beautifully brings them to life.
It's hard to feel disgruntled when you realize that everything in this world, everything, was created by a loving Heavenly Father for me. For you. For everyone. The world is magnificent and life is beautiful.
My life is especially beautiful because of my people. How grateful I am for everyone. I like to think I have been blessed with the most amazing, supportive, loving family I could ask for, because I have.
My friends are beyond amazing. Holy hannah, I don't know what I would do without them. They make Provo bearable and these crazy 20's even crazier and memorable.
I love eVeRYoNe in my life! My heart almost doesn't seem big enough to hold my love for everyone, but somehow it has grown to accommodate and still has room! It makes me positively jubilant.
What a bless-ed life I have been given. I humbly acknowledge the little role I play in the Lord's majestic creations. Far from preaching I merely want to share a quote I came across:
The other Sunday I was privileged to teach about Our Heavenly Father in Relief Society. Since then I have consistently had the lyrics from one of my favorite primary songs running through my mind and swelling in my heart. In case it's been a while since your primary days, as it has been for me, here are the sweet lyrics and an accompanying video that beautifully brings them to life.
My Heavenly Father Loves Me
Whenever I hear the song of a bird
Or look at the blue, blue sky,
Whenever I feel the rain on my face
Or the wind as it rushes by,
Whenever I touch a velvet rose
Or walk by a lilac tree,
I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world
Heavenly Father created for me.
He gave me my eyes that I might see
The color of butterfly wings.
He gave me my ears that I might hear
The magical sound of things.
He gave me my life, my mind, my heart:
I thank him reverently
For all his creations, of which I'm a part.
Yes, I know Heavenly Father loves me.
Whenever I hear the song of a bird
Or look at the blue, blue sky,
Whenever I feel the rain on my face
Or the wind as it rushes by,
Whenever I touch a velvet rose
Or walk by a lilac tree,
I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world
Heavenly Father created for me.
He gave me my eyes that I might see
The color of butterfly wings.
He gave me my ears that I might hear
The magical sound of things.
He gave me my life, my mind, my heart:
I thank him reverently
For all his creations, of which I'm a part.
Yes, I know Heavenly Father loves me.
It's hard to feel disgruntled when you realize that everything in this world, everything, was created by a loving Heavenly Father for me. For you. For everyone. The world is magnificent and life is beautiful.
My life is especially beautiful because of my people. How grateful I am for everyone. I like to think I have been blessed with the most amazing, supportive, loving family I could ask for, because I have.
My friends are beyond amazing. Holy hannah, I don't know what I would do without them. They make Provo bearable and these crazy 20's even crazier and memorable.
- My Chelsea-- she listens to all my tangents and reassures me I'm a good person. She is my soulmate, my "twisted sister", my bestie.
- My lovely roommates-- how I love coming home to them! So supportive and highly highly entertaining.
- My girls-- too many to name but I love each of them dearly-- I live for Girl's Night: Grey's, Glee, cherry Brownies, pumpkin magic, chick flicks, mojitos, chatting chatting chatting, Facebook stalking, card games, etc.
- My BEF-- "best eternal friend"-- Spencer. My longest friend of 17 years. Although he's like my torturing older brother and constantly teases me... he is one great friend who I would not trade for the world.
- My best friend around the world, Hunter... Only he can begin to comprehend my deep gratitude and the far reaching effects of his friendship in all aspects of my life.
- Those select families who have enriched my life and morphed into my second family... I am who I am today because of you-- your loving influence and hospitality mean so very much to me.
I love eVeRYoNe in my life! My heart almost doesn't seem big enough to hold my love for everyone, but somehow it has grown to accommodate and still has room! It makes me positively jubilant.
What a bless-ed life I have been given. I humbly acknowledge the little role I play in the Lord's majestic creations. Far from preaching I merely want to share a quote I came across:
Heavenly Father’s top priority is his children. If it’s important to you, it’s important to Him. Whatever concern you have is His concern. Whatever you have a question about the Lord knows the answer. Whatever sadness you are feeling, He knows how you feel and will ease the pain. He knows what it’s like to feel all alone. He will comfort you. -Sharon F. Larson-Yes, I know Heavenly Father loves me.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
elevator encounter
There are moments when taken from a third party perspective my life is definitive of “surreal”.
Today I had one such incidence that resonated as so incredibly bizarre it only seemed rational to appear through my subconscious in a dream… but there I found myself, living in the moment as conscious as ever.
I am a TA. We have bi-monthly TA meetings. We happen to meet on the 10th floor of the Spencer W. Kimball Tower building, referred to more easily as the SWKT. After the conclusion of our short meeting in the tower us TAs migrated towards the elevators.
Outside the 6 busy elevators congregated Dr. Rich, my current Applied Social Psychology professor whom I had seen just hours earlier, and Dr. Yamawaki, my former Psychology of Gender and Social Psychology professor attired casually in a green t-shirt and jeans listening to her ipod in one ear and to Dr. Rich with the other. She excitedly waved to me and I waved back.
The ding of the elevator signaled the contraption had finally traveled from the depths of the dungeon up to the 10th floor to usher us on our way. The lot of us (TA’s + Dr. Rich and Dr. Yamawaki) squeezed in. Just as I was beginning to grasp the oddity of the situation I noticed that Dr. Reber, my former History of Psychology professor and the professor I am currently TA-ing for had snuck in behind me, as well as another professor and 2 girls I did not know. Thinking the situation could really not get anymore strange I saw a well-dressed man ease into the elevator before the metal slid shut. And who else should it be but Dr. Slife, my professor of Psychology of Personality from last semester.
So here I am in what could only constitute a dream:
***Elevator in a giant tower crammed with people
***Company including:
o Dr. Rich – current Applied Social Psych professor
o Dr. Yamawaki – Psych of Gender and Social Psych professor fall semester
o Dr. Reber – History of Psych professor fall semester and current professor whom I am being a TA for
o Dr. Slife –Psych of Personality professor fall semester
o Another random professor
o 7 of my fellow TAs
o 2 random girls
Mind you I was in the back corner and could observe everything. Suddenly the walls of teacher and student were down -- we chuckled at our close proximity, bumping into each another, and pointed out Dr. Reber “defying social norms” by facing us rather than the elevator doors during our decent to ground level. Somehow that moment morphed into 14 people sharing an elevator rather than our distinctive individual role on campus.
We exited the elevator two by two and went our separate directions, detaching from the moment by bustling off to class or heading home after a long day on campus. It was only a moment. And yet that dreamlike trance stayed with me for a moment longer as I processed what had happened and as I formulated my thoughts of how I would explain it in my blog (because, that event transcends merely thinking about it—it must be blogged about). My explanation does not justify the weirdness of the situation or the subtle change of dynamics in the elevator but then again, what explanation ever justifies anything? Some things you just have to experience.
More to come on surreal and not so real events.
Today I had one such incidence that resonated as so incredibly bizarre it only seemed rational to appear through my subconscious in a dream… but there I found myself, living in the moment as conscious as ever.
I am a TA. We have bi-monthly TA meetings. We happen to meet on the 10th floor of the Spencer W. Kimball Tower building, referred to more easily as the SWKT. After the conclusion of our short meeting in the tower us TAs migrated towards the elevators.
Outside the 6 busy elevators congregated Dr. Rich, my current Applied Social Psychology professor whom I had seen just hours earlier, and Dr. Yamawaki, my former Psychology of Gender and Social Psychology professor attired casually in a green t-shirt and jeans listening to her ipod in one ear and to Dr. Rich with the other. She excitedly waved to me and I waved back.
The ding of the elevator signaled the contraption had finally traveled from the depths of the dungeon up to the 10th floor to usher us on our way. The lot of us (TA’s + Dr. Rich and Dr. Yamawaki) squeezed in. Just as I was beginning to grasp the oddity of the situation I noticed that Dr. Reber, my former History of Psychology professor and the professor I am currently TA-ing for had snuck in behind me, as well as another professor and 2 girls I did not know. Thinking the situation could really not get anymore strange I saw a well-dressed man ease into the elevator before the metal slid shut. And who else should it be but Dr. Slife, my professor of Psychology of Personality from last semester.
So here I am in what could only constitute a dream:
***Elevator in a giant tower crammed with people
***Company including:
o Dr. Rich – current Applied Social Psych professor
o Dr. Yamawaki – Psych of Gender and Social Psych professor fall semester
o Dr. Reber – History of Psych professor fall semester and current professor whom I am being a TA for
o Dr. Slife –Psych of Personality professor fall semester
o Another random professor
o 7 of my fellow TAs
o 2 random girls
Mind you I was in the back corner and could observe everything. Suddenly the walls of teacher and student were down -- we chuckled at our close proximity, bumping into each another, and pointed out Dr. Reber “defying social norms” by facing us rather than the elevator doors during our decent to ground level. Somehow that moment morphed into 14 people sharing an elevator rather than our distinctive individual role on campus.
We exited the elevator two by two and went our separate directions, detaching from the moment by bustling off to class or heading home after a long day on campus. It was only a moment. And yet that dreamlike trance stayed with me for a moment longer as I processed what had happened and as I formulated my thoughts of how I would explain it in my blog (because, that event transcends merely thinking about it—it must be blogged about). My explanation does not justify the weirdness of the situation or the subtle change of dynamics in the elevator but then again, what explanation ever justifies anything? Some things you just have to experience.
More to come on surreal and not so real events.
Monday, January 4, 2010
living the orange life-- the world of the home depot
I am standing in a GiGaNTiC warehouse with dauntingly long aisles the height of houses stuffed to the ceiling, literally, with things I have never seen before and others I don't even know exist.
I am o v e r w h e l m e d. What have I gotten myself into?
That was me 6 months ago when I began cashiering at The Home Depot.
On that first day about the only thing I knew, other than how to work within the radius of a cash register, was that the bathroom was half way back on the far wall by Tool Rental. Customers would misperceive my sheer terror as confidence and inquire the location of some obscure object which I had not the foggiest inclination of its function, or ask my opinion of which screw would be best to use for a 2 x 4 stud, or where breakers or filters or shelving or plywood or faucets or... Blank. That was what my mind was and what my face probably looked like. Oh those first several days I'm sure I called my dear head cashier a dozen times. As a customer would approach I would pray that they wanted to know where the bathroom was. Or paint! I knew where the paint department was! But no... usually it was something I had absolutely no idea.
A customer once asked how I liked working in a "man's world" aka Home Depot, suggesting the equivalent would be him selling bras at Victoria's Secret. Although I see his point in that I lack testosterone as he lacks breasts, I have evolved into a semi-knowledgeable Home Depot girl and actually love working in a "man's world". Despite the surge of estrogen rather than testosterone and differing anatomy I am proud to declare the factor of my gender does not hinder by ability to work in, and enjoy, a "man's world".
HoMe DePot ASSOCIATES
Home Depot itself is a friendly customer oriented company. The environment is laid back and welcoming, inviting the Construction Worker and Super Mom to come partake of the glorious selection of different departments: building materials, lumber, millworks, paint, hardware, plumbing, electrical, lighting, flooring, kitchen and bath, garden... You get my point. People make the environment what it is: enter associates! Part of the reason I love my job is the people I work with.
I have come to feel special at work as my co-workers say hello with a smile, notice when I have been gone for a while, and joke around about past events aka inside jokes. More than just pleasantries on the floor and in the break room I think I have come to make actual friends with my associates, especially my fellow cashiers and head cashiers. Indeed my bestie Chelsea works at Home Depot; it always makes the work day go by faster through interspersed talking and sharing of opinions. Home Depot also offers me protection-- okay, not like the mafia but pretty close. A concerned electrical associate offered me the protective services of his FBI friend if a certain gentleman continued bothering me. They've got my back. and I'm happy to have theirs.
HoMe DePot CUSTOMERS
All in all, Home Depot customers are happy. They know what they want, ask for help if they need it, and are on their way. Get in, get out, get on with it. My personal hypothesis is that because people typically don't opt to go to Home Depot to browse until something pops out at them and have an actual purpose to their visit (even if they get side tracked along the way) they are much happier than most retail customers. This is the part that makes my job rock. A new couple is overjoyed to buy paint to make their new house a home, a husband is excited to rip up the deteriorating carpet to surprise his wife with beautiful slate tile or glistening hardwood floors, a dad is buying lumber for his son's eagle scout project, a long-ago broken door handle is finally being fixed, the In N Out construction manager is buying 80 studs for the building's load bearing walls (yes, that really happened)... etc. There's a point to their visit and they're willing and grateful for help.
Of course there are disgruntled people out there who love to give people a hard time and make a good day bad by being a royal pain but... those are thankfully few and far between.
The most common customers at Home Depot are. . . the creepers. Okay, that's an exaggeration. Not most. But it sure seems like an awful lot of creepers. And I'm talking full-on married (or engaged) dirty (literally and figuratively) old (sometimes) men who think its perfectly acceptable to hit on you by saying SuPeR corny or inappropriate things that can only be followed by awkwardness.
Here are some of my favorite personal experiences:
"Did you find everything all right today, Sir?"
"Well... I found YOU so I think that counts as everything"
"How are you doing today?"
"Well my scenery just got a whole lot prettier, so I'd say I'm pretty damn good"
****On Halloween I was Pocahontas
"Are you suppose to be Sacajawea or something?"
"Sure"
"You almost make me want to me an Indian chief" (wink!)
---Shudder! Nervous uncomfortable laughter----
"Are you gonna take me to the hot springs?"
--Confusion on my part---
"Are you gonna wear a bikini for me when you take me to the hot springs?"
"Here's $13.50, Sir."
Then one day, Tweedle D and Tweedle Drunk came in, asking when I got off work and if I'd like to come have a drink with them. I politely declined and informed them I wasn't of the drinking age. These dirty (quite literally) construction workers tried to persuade me to watch them drink then, that I'd be good company.
Ummm.... No thanks.
One guy, who was actually close to my age, came in with what I am assuming was his little brother. He drawled out his voice as he asked,
"So... when do you get off tonight?"
"I close".
"Oh. Well, Becky, do you have plans after work?"
"Yes, I'm studying. I'm a nerd".
"Oh... okay"
I've debated wearing a fake ring to work. But even then the bad creepers will still hit on you.
Despite the Chester molesters and Lyle pedophiles, however, I do love Home Depot. Those are just my extreme examples. Most guys who come in are nice decent respectable wife-loving men.
HoMe DePoT ORANGE APRON
I've grown quite attached to my orange apron. It holds my pens, sharpie, gloves, exacto knife, store map, calculator, candy, hand sanitizer, and any other odds and ends I may need. It's lovely. Dirty but lovely.
I have come a long way from my first day on the floor. I now know much more than the location of the bathroom and paint department; I am certified in returns and self-check out and know that: breakers are on aisle 5, aisle 7 contains furnace filters, you'll find all the nuts and bolts you need on aisle 10, 14 has most obscure odds and ends as well as signs and door knobs. Studs are used for load-bearing walls. There are different kinds of sheetrock, i.e. regular, fireproof, and mold resistant which come 2 to a pack. Cement is not just cement. There's so much more to it. Also, I can tell the difference between cut and fender washers, 1/2 and 3/8 rebar, and am pretty good at guesstimating the sizes of hex nuts, 2 x 4s, and moulding. The sku for the yellow Morton salt pellets is 208 124 and a soda with tax costs $1.47, a 5 cent increase from 2009.
And that, my dear customer from long ago, is proof enough not only that I can work in a "man's world" but that I rock working in a "man's world". Plus I love it.
I am o v e r w h e l m e d. What have I gotten myself into?
That was me 6 months ago when I began cashiering at The Home Depot.
On that first day about the only thing I knew, other than how to work within the radius of a cash register, was that the bathroom was half way back on the far wall by Tool Rental. Customers would misperceive my sheer terror as confidence and inquire the location of some obscure object which I had not the foggiest inclination of its function, or ask my opinion of which screw would be best to use for a 2 x 4 stud, or where breakers or filters or shelving or plywood or faucets or... Blank. That was what my mind was and what my face probably looked like. Oh those first several days I'm sure I called my dear head cashier a dozen times. As a customer would approach I would pray that they wanted to know where the bathroom was. Or paint! I knew where the paint department was! But no... usually it was something I had absolutely no idea.
A customer once asked how I liked working in a "man's world" aka Home Depot, suggesting the equivalent would be him selling bras at Victoria's Secret. Although I see his point in that I lack testosterone as he lacks breasts, I have evolved into a semi-knowledgeable Home Depot girl and actually love working in a "man's world". Despite the surge of estrogen rather than testosterone and differing anatomy I am proud to declare the factor of my gender does not hinder by ability to work in, and enjoy, a "man's world".
HoMe DePot ASSOCIATES
Home Depot itself is a friendly customer oriented company. The environment is laid back and welcoming, inviting the Construction Worker and Super Mom to come partake of the glorious selection of different departments: building materials, lumber, millworks, paint, hardware, plumbing, electrical, lighting, flooring, kitchen and bath, garden... You get my point. People make the environment what it is: enter associates! Part of the reason I love my job is the people I work with.
I have come to feel special at work as my co-workers say hello with a smile, notice when I have been gone for a while, and joke around about past events aka inside jokes. More than just pleasantries on the floor and in the break room I think I have come to make actual friends with my associates, especially my fellow cashiers and head cashiers. Indeed my bestie Chelsea works at Home Depot; it always makes the work day go by faster through interspersed talking and sharing of opinions. Home Depot also offers me protection-- okay, not like the mafia but pretty close. A concerned electrical associate offered me the protective services of his FBI friend if a certain gentleman continued bothering me. They've got my back. and I'm happy to have theirs.
HoMe DePot CUSTOMERS
All in all, Home Depot customers are happy. They know what they want, ask for help if they need it, and are on their way. Get in, get out, get on with it. My personal hypothesis is that because people typically don't opt to go to Home Depot to browse until something pops out at them and have an actual purpose to their visit (even if they get side tracked along the way) they are much happier than most retail customers. This is the part that makes my job rock. A new couple is overjoyed to buy paint to make their new house a home, a husband is excited to rip up the deteriorating carpet to surprise his wife with beautiful slate tile or glistening hardwood floors, a dad is buying lumber for his son's eagle scout project, a long-ago broken door handle is finally being fixed, the In N Out construction manager is buying 80 studs for the building's load bearing walls (yes, that really happened)... etc. There's a point to their visit and they're willing and grateful for help.
Of course there are disgruntled people out there who love to give people a hard time and make a good day bad by being a royal pain but... those are thankfully few and far between.
The most common customers at Home Depot are. . . the creepers. Okay, that's an exaggeration. Not most. But it sure seems like an awful lot of creepers. And I'm talking full-on married (or engaged) dirty (literally and figuratively) old (sometimes) men who think its perfectly acceptable to hit on you by saying SuPeR corny or inappropriate things that can only be followed by awkwardness.
Here are some of my favorite personal experiences:
"Did you find everything all right today, Sir?"
"Well... I found YOU so I think that counts as everything"
"How are you doing today?"
"Well my scenery just got a whole lot prettier, so I'd say I'm pretty damn good"
****On Halloween I was Pocahontas
"Are you suppose to be Sacajawea or something?"
"Sure"
"You almost make me want to me an Indian chief" (wink!)
---Shudder! Nervous uncomfortable laughter----
"Are you gonna take me to the hot springs?"
--Confusion on my part---
"Are you gonna wear a bikini for me when you take me to the hot springs?"
"Here's $13.50, Sir."
Then one day, Tweedle D and Tweedle Drunk came in, asking when I got off work and if I'd like to come have a drink with them. I politely declined and informed them I wasn't of the drinking age. These dirty (quite literally) construction workers tried to persuade me to watch them drink then, that I'd be good company.
Ummm.... No thanks.
One guy, who was actually close to my age, came in with what I am assuming was his little brother. He drawled out his voice as he asked,
"So... when do you get off tonight?"
"I close".
"Oh. Well, Becky, do you have plans after work?"
"Yes, I'm studying. I'm a nerd".
"Oh... okay"
I've debated wearing a fake ring to work. But even then the bad creepers will still hit on you.
Despite the Chester molesters and Lyle pedophiles, however, I do love Home Depot. Those are just my extreme examples. Most guys who come in are nice decent respectable wife-loving men.
HoMe DePoT ORANGE APRON
I have come a long way from my first day on the floor. I now know much more than the location of the bathroom and paint department; I am certified in returns and self-check out and know that: breakers are on aisle 5, aisle 7 contains furnace filters, you'll find all the nuts and bolts you need on aisle 10, 14 has most obscure odds and ends as well as signs and door knobs. Studs are used for load-bearing walls. There are different kinds of sheetrock, i.e. regular, fireproof, and mold resistant which come 2 to a pack. Cement is not just cement. There's so much more to it. Also, I can tell the difference between cut and fender washers, 1/2 and 3/8 rebar, and am pretty good at guesstimating the sizes of hex nuts, 2 x 4s, and moulding. The sku for the yellow Morton salt pellets is 208 124 and a soda with tax costs $1.47, a 5 cent increase from 2009.
And that, my dear customer from long ago, is proof enough not only that I can work in a "man's world" but that I rock working in a "man's world". Plus I love it.
Friday, December 25, 2009
come find things lost
While perusing my vacant room at the parentals during Christmas break I came across a poem, written by yours truly freshman year of high school, that has since caused me to ponder. . .
--CoMe FiND THiNGS LoST --
Some things become lost
which were meant to be treasured.
Moments to always be remembered
are forgotten.
A child's laughter at seriousness.
The scent in the air after the heavens cry.
The watercolors in the sky after the sun sinks
behind snow capped mountains.
Find these things which have been
Lost.
Come search in my world of
Treasured things I've found,
And remember what you have forgotten.
-Becky Record-
The human mind-- what a fantastic organ of our body (is it an organ? I like to think so... perhaps tissue would be a better definitive term). Despite its great abilities, which are indeed great, a portion of our most cherished memories and people become fuzzy in processing, storage, and recollection. I know that for myself I become consumed with work, school, and life that I compartmentalize my emotions and people. Really, it is a shame but it proves to be a useful tactic to accomplish the great demands of life while the details go out the window.
One of the reasons Christmas break is such a wonderful blessing is the opportunity to actually feel. To think with your heart rather than your mind, to find the connection between the two and remember what you care about-- really-- and also to share with those people you love why you love them and your gratitude for them in your life. When I look back at this year I don't remember the details of a grading rubric, the prioritization of homework, or the tasks I performed at work-- I remember the moments: when my roommates and I danced it out for an hour during finals with the door wide open and the cold December air washing over us; Hunter and I scouring the BYU Library bookshelves to find ancient novels; going to an Ingrid Michaelson concert with my girls and finally feeling alive as I shut the world out and sang with my heart in beat to her melodious voice; feeling my soul was home in the Draper Temple open house and again while doing baptisms and wishing I never had to leave the peaceful serenity. . . Cliche as it is, it is the moments that make life worth living; the things you decide to do on a whim that make life adventurous and fun, along with those glorious connections you feel with your family, friends, roommates, nature, and most importantly God.
This year has been a rollercoaster but... my what a ride it has been. I have discovered countless new phenomena as well as re-discovered my passion, motivation, and joy. I have found treasured things in my life and although I cannot remember the exact hue of a sunset or the perfect sound of child's giggle I can remember the people, my people, and the unique loving bond I share with each of them.
--CoMe FiND THiNGS LoST --
Some things become lost
which were meant to be treasured.
Moments to always be remembered
are forgotten.
A child's laughter at seriousness.
The scent in the air after the heavens cry.
The watercolors in the sky after the sun sinks
behind snow capped mountains.
Find these things which have been
Lost.
Come search in my world of
Treasured things I've found,
And remember what you have forgotten.
-Becky Record-
The human mind-- what a fantastic organ of our body (is it an organ? I like to think so... perhaps tissue would be a better definitive term). Despite its great abilities, which are indeed great, a portion of our most cherished memories and people become fuzzy in processing, storage, and recollection. I know that for myself I become consumed with work, school, and life that I compartmentalize my emotions and people. Really, it is a shame but it proves to be a useful tactic to accomplish the great demands of life while the details go out the window.
One of the reasons Christmas break is such a wonderful blessing is the opportunity to actually feel. To think with your heart rather than your mind, to find the connection between the two and remember what you care about-- really-- and also to share with those people you love why you love them and your gratitude for them in your life. When I look back at this year I don't remember the details of a grading rubric, the prioritization of homework, or the tasks I performed at work-- I remember the moments: when my roommates and I danced it out for an hour during finals with the door wide open and the cold December air washing over us; Hunter and I scouring the BYU Library bookshelves to find ancient novels; going to an Ingrid Michaelson concert with my girls and finally feeling alive as I shut the world out and sang with my heart in beat to her melodious voice; feeling my soul was home in the Draper Temple open house and again while doing baptisms and wishing I never had to leave the peaceful serenity. . . Cliche as it is, it is the moments that make life worth living; the things you decide to do on a whim that make life adventurous and fun, along with those glorious connections you feel with your family, friends, roommates, nature, and most importantly God.
This year has been a rollercoaster but... my what a ride it has been. I have discovered countless new phenomena as well as re-discovered my passion, motivation, and joy. I have found treasured things in my life and although I cannot remember the exact hue of a sunset or the perfect sound of child's giggle I can remember the people, my people, and the unique loving bond I share with each of them.
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