Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Letter from a Creditor

I get a lot of offers for credit cards in the mail. I should actually follow through one of these days on removing myself from the listing for them.

Especially because I paid the entire balance of one of my credit cards off today! Yeah baby!

I opened the letter, and it said something similar to what all of them say:


It's clear that you realize the importance of staying on track with your finances. But you need credit for those unexpected expenses."

No, Capital One. Do not try to persuade me to your evil ways with your lies and deception.

For I am doing what Dave Ramsey told me to and am building up my savings! You should save up for those unexpected expenses. In fact, if you're saving up for emergencies, then you are expecting them, and are totally prepared.

Emergency funds, y'all. Emergency funds.

Dumpster Twitter Flirt

I said in my last blog that you should stay tuned for topics including my plunge into Twitter, pool conversations, and a dumpster dive. I thought I might as well put all of it into one blog in order to not bombard the blogosphere with separate entries for each mini-story.

The first. My dear friend Aaron pushed me on probably three separate occasions to get a Twitter. I thought Twitter was kind of silly. It's just a simpler version of Facebook, which I already have. Why join yet another social network? Well, party people, I found some very funny Twitter Folks that I needed to follow. Among them: A-Town, Depressed Darth, and Sarah Nicole. I figured that if so many cool people were already in this social realm, I may as well grace them all with my presence. It's simple. It's fun. I have enjoyed my time there so far. Oh right, and if you want to, you can follow me!

Within a day of having a Twitter account, I had several absurd things occur in my life, which produced the following Tweets:

Thanks for the hair advice, Chili's server. 

If I set my gym money aside for 18 years, I could buy my own elliptical. 

just had to jump into a dumpster to retrieve my keys. They got caught on my trash bag! 

"Excuse me, do you have any suntan lotion?" Seriously? That's the best way you can think of to talk to a girl? 

 when your bathing suit bubbles in the pool, but it looks entirely different to bystanders...

I assume that all of these Tweets are sufficiently witty and interesting enough to get you to follow me, right? No? Then I'll expound. 

Rachel and I went to Chili's for dinner. I had a bonus on my check from work this past month, and spent most of my extra dollars going out to eat. Really, I think I've eaten out more in the last month than I have in the last four months combined. I never go out to eat anymore. (I have lived it up to my satisfaction, and am returning to my frugal ways for the next several months. In case you were wondering.) Where was I? Oh right. Rachel and I went to Chili's for dinner. Our server was from North Carolina, if I remember correctly. We'll call him Earl. He did a good job, refilled our drinks, was very polite--fulfilled all of those good server requirements. 

I then decide to tell Raytch that I want to cut an inch and a half off of my hair. When your hair is as long as mine, 1.5 inches likely wouldn't be noticed by anybody. It's just necessary, people. My hair's lookin' shameful. So Earl comes walking up to refill our glasses with water and jumps into the conversation (pronounce all of the following with the hint of a southern drawl): "Don't cut your hair! Every time a girl says she cuts her hair she says later she wished she would've kept it long. Or they just don't like the haircut. Or girls with short hair say they want long hair. Just keep your hair how it is." Rachel and I just nodded confusedly at his abrupt intrusion. He proceeded to say all of what he said the first time, a second time, in another order: "Really, girls should just keep their hair the same. They always regret cutting it. Every girl wants long hair. Every girl with long hair wants short hair. Just keep it." Well, if he hadn't convinced me the first time, then surely he did the second time. 

For reals though, Earl? No one asked you. 

Second topic: A gym membership is $23 per month for me. Not bad at all. But if I were to purchase my own elliptical without financing, after saving up just like Dave Ramsey says to, I couldn't buy one for 18 years. I'll be like 42 by then, with a husband and kids (God willing). I'll have needed that elliptical for the last 18 years to avoid being fat by 42. Come on! Come on. 

Third topic: Ah, the dumpster dive. I could make this into a rather decent andecdote. I wonder how long my story will end up. I had to take out a small grocery bag of trash from my bedroom. As I closed and locked my apartment door, deciding which hand to put my keys in, I decided on my right hand, which was also holding the grocery bag of trash. I quietly told myself, "You just have to be careful not to throw the keys in with the garbage." I'm not lying about that, either, folks. I really did tell myself that. And I'm sure you can see where this is going. So I head down to the dumpster around the corner of my building with my left arm full and my left hand clutching keys and trash. With a firm grip on my keys, I swing my trash into the dumpster. While in the process of releasing the trash, I felt that my keys had gotten hooked onto the handles of the bag. I watched my keys and trash fly away from me into a big, huge, dumpster. You can use your imagination as to what things I said when this happened. Let me give you some of my reasons to be frustrated:

1. I am five feet tall. 
2. The dumpster comes up to my nose. 
3. My keys are at the bottom of a dumpster.
4. My apartment door is locked.
5. It's a dumpster. 

While muttering all kinds of unbecoming language, I looked around my apartment complex to make sure no one was watching me. I had to act without thinking--what else could I do? So, in flip flops, I put my right foot up on the protruding side of the dumpster, lifted myself up, and swung my left foot over into the dumpster. Then I jumped in. 

The story sounds less funny if I tell you that the dumpster was almost completely empty--it was just my trash and someone else's. I counted my blessings though. Who knows what I would have had to swim through otherwise? I knelt down, picked up my keys, and threw them out onto the ground. I looked out from the inside of the smelly green dumpster, where no one was around to help. I realized that I hadn't thought about how I was going to get myself out. Oops. 

I put my hands up on top of the dumpster and jumped to lift myself. It was a rather weak attempt, mind you. I was just spent from the whole situation already. To avoid having some sort of in-dumpster meltdown, I tried again. This time, I used all that gym-built strength to really lift myself up. My arms straightened, my body stiffened; my left leg came up and over, and my right leg followed. I did it. I climbed out of a dumpster that is almost as tall as I am. I grabbed my keys and went to my car to run my errands.

Then I called my dad to tell him about my super-human get-out-of-the-garbage-dumpster strength. 

Fourth topic: "Excuse me, do you have any suntan lotion?" Who goes to the pool without sunblock or suntan lotion, first of all (unless you're black or don't burn)? Yeah, I had some, but that's lucky for you, since I never reapply it when I'm at the pool. I handed my Hawaiian Tropic SPF 2 tanning mousse over to this lame-o. While he's putting it on, I hear him go, "Whoa." I look over, and he's made a total mess of himself. I said, "Yeah, a little goes a long way." He responded pleasantly, "I guess that's all I need, then." "No sh--," I wanted to say. But I didn't. Don't worry. As he's rubbing in the mass amount of mousse that he took from me, he says, "So how's your day going so far?" Oh geez. First of all, this was a lame way to talk to someone. Secondly, I'm all sweaty and watery and am busy tanning. Thirdly, my day was good till you took advantage of my preparedness. All I said was, "It's good." If you didn't already notice, I'm not very friendly with unattractive guys making awkward conversation in these kinds of situations. Thankfully, a young boy came up to ask him if he'd be "their adult" at the pool, in case any of the officials came asking. Their conversation took them away from me. I appreciate your interruption, young grasshopper. I hope you get me out of dumb conversations at the pool in the future. 

And the fifth topic: Bathing suit bubbles. There's not much to be said on this. Except that when I get up from the tanning chair to submerge myself in the cold water of the swimming pool, the air from my swimsuit bottoms floats to the surface. They obviously look like other kinds of bubbles, and in that particular instance, there was someone not too far away. Oh well. I'll have you know, stranger at the pool, that I did not--I repeat, did not--fart in the pool. 

I think that about does it. It's time for me to go write about some more serious things now. 

Life is weird. 

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Fuze Smoothies

When I first started making smoothies at the beginning of the year, I was limited in my vision.

I used frozen mixed fruit from Costco, yogurt, half a banana, and some orange juice. And it was delicious. Every time.

Then I started to switch it up. Instead of orange juice, I wanted to try Banana Colada Fuze.

Oh. That made my smoothies even better.

Then I started switching up the yogurts. Vanilla is great. But so is raspberry. And peach. And lots of other kinds! My smoothies just started getting exciting!

So when they had a 10/$10 deal at Smith's on Fuze drinks a couple months ago, I got lots of different kinds.

Some of them have not been so good. Banana Colada remains my favorite.

But today! Today I tried Strawberry Guava. Oh man. My smoothie is awesome. I can't even type this efficiently because I keep stopping to drink it.

FYI: The Peach Mango one is also good. Tropical Punch is OK. And I've got lots more to try.

Life has been good lately! I finished Stargirl in two days. I read Seedfolks today at the gym. I think I'll be teaching those two, The Giver, and a fourth book (to be determined--Esperanza Rising?) to my seventh graders this next year.

I've been at the gym every day but Sunday. I went to the pool yesterday and got way dark. It's beautiful outside again. I'm going to a free concert tonight--The Decemberists! And found out that Bright Eyes will be playing for free in August. Yeah! Things got rolling with my calling last night, finally, and I am excited!

And many interesting things have been happening... In coming blogs, get ready for: My plunge into Twitter, how not to initiate conversations at the pool, and my brief dumpster dive.


Monday, July 18, 2011

Automobile Perverts

On my way back from Temple Square today, I had intended to get on the freeway at 400 South. But, what's this? Only carpools can get on the freeway right here? Freaking A.

I kept driving and turned left onto 900 West.

After heading south for a couple of minutes, a brown SUV to my right honks the horn.

I look at him. A below-average, trashy looking white boy. Making kissy faces at me.

"What the?!" I thought. I was so taken aback that I made a "What the?" face at him, and immediately looked back at the road.

Seconds later, he honked again.

"..." I looked to my right again.

(Careful, readers, it's PG-13 from here on out)

This time, his tongue was out of his mouth. He was moving his tongue in front of his top lip rapidly from left to right. His hands were still on the wheel. But I knew what he was insinuating.

Then I felt completely disgusted. I wanted to flip him off, but having an inkling of the type of person he was, I thought that might make the situation worse. Here's a case where being judgmental comes in handy, folks.

Instead of giving him the finger, I just looked straight back at the road again. Seriously? Does he really get girls from doing stuff like that?

I drove the rest of the way home, in awe over how a man doesn't even have to speak to or touch me to make me feel dirty and worthless.


Not My Type

One day toward the beginning of June, a young man instant messaged me on a dating website. I only saw one picture of him.

I responded to him. We had a pleasant conversation, where he actually asked prying questions that began to get on my nerves. Nevertheless, he seemed to be worth meeting. We exchanged phone numbers. We became Facebook friends. I saw more of his pictures, which were disappointing, to say the least.

A few days after that, he starts trying to set up a meeting time with me for when I returned to Salt Lake from California. I figured it'd be harmless to meet, even if I didn't find him very attractive.

We decided to meet for breakfast. I would have to drive up to his general vicinity, but he'd buy breakfast. I can handle that. I'll drive for free food.

During this brief conversation, though, he seemed confused as to "which one" I was. He asked for a picture. I sent him one. He said, "You look pretty. And slender? ;)" This was the second time he had brought up the possibility of my being slender, which, as we all know, I am not. I told him that I was not slender, and wouldn't want him to expect otherwise and be disappointed.

As if he had been thrown off by my non-thin stature, he said, "Well since I have never met you before, maybe we can just hang out?" I asked if breakfast counted as hanging out, and asked why the sudden change of plans.

He (we'll call him Llewellyn from here on out) started to complicate the situation, saying we could do something else, but he didn't want to go on a date because he didn't know me. Or we could still do breakfast if I wanted to pay for my own. I essentially said that I would not be driving twenty minutes to pay for my own breakfast. So we could do something inexpensive.

The conversation just got progressively more confusing and obnoxious. So I just stopped responding.

A few days later, he sent me a message on the website where we had originally started chatting. He asked for my name and number.

"Wow, this guy is completely lost," I thought to myself. I responded to his message with a brief synopsis as to how our text conversation regarding breakfast went. Llewellyn seemed surprised regarding my message: "You seem to be upset." Did I forget to mention that Llewellyn is a genius?

In the past several weeks, I have gotten multiple texts from him, asking for my name and a picture "because he had a new phone."

No, I really doubt that's the reason you have no idea who I am, Llewellyn. You're just totally clueless. I ignored his previous two or three messages.

A few days ago, I got yet another text. "Can I have a picture to save your contact information to my phone?"

I said, "Nope. Please delete me from your phone."

He said, "No problem. Not my type!"

I wonder how he knows that, if he doesn't even know what I look like. Bless his little heart. He just couldn't respond in a classy way to being shut down.


Wall Decor

Parking to walk around Temple Square? - $2

Purchasing an 11x17 photo of my favorite being? - $1

Purchasing an 11x17 photo of my favorite temple? - $1

Purchasing frames for those two photos at Wal-Mart? - $8

Having pictures of Christ and the temple hanging up at my apartment? - Priceless.

And I say I Write...

My coworker posted these on Google+ today. I read them in this order, but you should probably do the opposite.

Date an Illiterate Girl - I held my breath through this whole thing, pretty much... A heads up on the language. Either don't read it, or get over it.

Date a Girl who Reads - Also awesome.

My day is complete. It's not even noon.


Sunday, July 17, 2011

Josh? Is That You?

I watched The Goonies a lot as a kid. I always thought Brand was cute.

And I've developed a huge crush on Josh Brolin in many recent roles (like No CountryJonah Hex, etc.).

I just now learned that Brand was played by Josh Brolin.

No wonder I have the hots for him. He's been lurking in the subconscious memory of my cherished childhood films.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011


I despise apartment hunting.

I despise moving.

It seems like no place has all of the qualities I desire in an apartment. And it's not like I'm being picky here, people.

We're talking about:
- Maybe 600 square feet (room for my furniture)
- Basic kitchen amenities (fridge, stove/oven, dishwasher, cupboard space)
- Heat and A/C options
- A bathroom that's not inside the bedroom (male guests, if you've got to pee, won't you please take a walk through my untidy private quarters where there may or may not be undergarments lying around? sorry about that)
- A closet in the bedroom (I think it's sad that I have to put this on here)
- Washer and dryer hookups (or at least onsite laundry)
- Covered parking (street parking? are you serious?)
- Plugins for cable TV and a phone jack for DSL internet

I mean, I can do without overhead lighting. I can deal with limited cupboard space. I can sacrifice extra storage space and closets. I'll even manage to do my laundry somewhere else.

But this is a little ridiculous. If I find a good sized, good priced unit, it has the bathroom in the bedroom. If I find one with covered parking, there's no dishwasher. If I find one that's super cute and roomy, it's not modern enough for phone jacks.

I mean I understand that there's give and take, but this is really just getting to be silly.


Personal Space

So remember when the people at the beach stationed themselves WAY too close to me, when there was plenty of room?

How about the time on the 4th of July when Jonny and I had a spot on the grass and a group sat literally one foot away from us? Oh right I didn't tell you about that. Well, it happened. And believe it or not, it was Jonny who was in awe over it first. And we moved very quickly. 

Now how about at the gym? Twice this week I have had someone get on the elliptical right next to me when there were about seven of them open to my right, and about 11 open of them in the row behind the row I was in. Really, people? All these open elliptical machines, and you want to be right next to me? Why? 

Don't worry that the guy who did that to me today completely reeked, too. Thanks. I appreciate that. Double my fun. 

Maybe I just have an excessive need for personal space, since nobody else seems to be fazed by the fact that they're close enough to smell my breath when there's a surplus of space elsewhere. 


Tuesday, July 12, 2011

It's Kind of a Funny Story

Before I can start on a focus post, I just have to say: 72 hours till Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2 comes out! I am so, so excited!

On to the meat of this post...

I was out with a guy on Saturday night. We saw Thor (really entertaining, by the way. So much better than Green Lantern). Then we went to In-N-Out. Then I wanted a cupcake from the Sweet Tooth Fairy. We walked in, and my date saw somebody he knew, and he had a very minor (and totally understandable) freak out. Apparently this girl who served in his same mission participated in some weird stalker behavior after the mission. She commented anonymously on his blog, 'liked' all of his Facebook profile pictures (then unfriended herself), and did numerous other bizarre things.

They did not interact with each other. Did not say hello. Did not look at each other.

He was cursing his luck under his breath at seeing this supposedly insane girl at this location and at that totally inopportune moment.

We went back out to the car, and he says, "Oooooh my gosh. Woooow!" along with various other sentiments of shock and disgust. Then he shows me his cell phone.

"I'm way cuter than your date! :)"


Monday, July 11, 2011

Dating Games?

That's funny, I didn't realize that going on dates equaled playing games.

Here I thought that you date someone to get to know them and spend time with them.

And then if you're not interested at some point, you don't go out on dates anymore.

I can see where someone might hesitate with this interpretation. However, dates do not have to cost a lot of money (or any at all).

Here are some things I would like to do:

- Play games (any except card games. e.g. Yahtzee, movie trivia, word games, Monopoly, etc.)
- Walk around temple square
- Walk around downtown Salt Lake
- Drive up the canyon
- Have a bonfire (maybe cook food or make s'mores)
- Have a picnic at a park
- Watch a movie (at home or at the theater--regular or dollar theater)
- Get a shake
- Bake something together
- Share music
- Go to a pawn shop
- Go to a museum (preferably an art museum)
- Go on a hike (preferably an easy one)
- Go to the pool and swim/tan/talk
- Go boating
- Sight-see in Utah - Salt Flats, etc. (there's way too much I haven't seen)
- Go to a comedy club of sorts
- Go to a concert (it can just be like at In the Venue or Muse, under $10, or free!)
- Go to a baseball game (or other sporting event, but baseball is my favorite; major or minor leagues)
- Color (yep, I said it. I like coloring. Don't judge me.)
- Ice skate (in the winter)
- Boating

Really, I just like when there is a plan. I don't mind making decisions regarding those plans. Like if I'm given a few options, I don't mind picking. But I like knowing there is a plan laid out no matter what I choose. I am not high maintenance. I don't demand to be taken to expensive restaurants or have someone buy things for me...

Just show some thoughtfulness, have a plan, and open doors.

And I'm a happy girl!

And at some point when I am not happy (or not interested), I will no longer accept date invitations. Simple as that.


Tuesday, July 5, 2011

4 de Julio

Note the amazing irony in the fact that for America's Independence Day, I put the blog title in Spanish. I am so funny. Laugh with me.

Fine, don't.

Yesterday was pretty uneventful, really. I'm used to being in Provo where I can head to the Freedom Festival to look at booths and eat delicious food and whatnot. Plus I think I've missed one Stadium of Fire in the last 15 years or something. This year was one of those years. And not that I think Stadium of Fire is ever super awesome, it's still something to do, and it's fun, and it's tradition. So I kind of missed it.

Anyway, yesterday I went to the gym. Then I showered. Then I went to the store. Then I made cookies (only 6 of them--which I burned, sadly. I refrigerated the rest of the dough).

Then I went to Traverse Mountain to get free food and hang out with my family at their local park. It was mostly for kids--water slides and bounce houses and whatnot. I did see my friend Nephi there, so that was nice, for like, 10 seconds.

I headed back home and made myself look presentable.

Jonny came and picked me up. We headed to West Jordan to check out their carnival. I was hoping it'd be a little more like Taylorsville Dayzz in size and quality. It wasn't. And I'm not sure how many mullets I saw while I was there, but it was a lot.


Seriously though, there were some shady, sketchy people at that carnival. We left.

I'd like to mention at this point in time how disgusting the weather was yesterday. Holy humidity, Batman! It was so muggy and hot and gross. I was constantly sticky-damp with sweat. Nasty. Really nasty.

So given the quality of people in the area, and the lack of things to look at, we skidaddled indeed. We headed to our favorite dessert place: Red Mango, where they ran out of Original flavor. I didn't want any of the other flavors. Raspberry cheesecake? Vanilla? Coconut? No. No, thank you. I just want plain old yogurt. He got vanilla and seemed pretty happy with it.

Then we braved the Sugarhouse traffic.

Holy toledo. it was nuts over there. I knew it would be, but geez. Fortunately, my chauffeur was not a stress case and dealt with the situation like a champ. We parked several blocks away (and I've got a painful blister on my toe from my flip-flop to prove it) and walked over.

It was a really fun time using the porta potties. For some reason, people wanted to congregate in the poo arena. It was bizarre. But we really had to go! So we did.

We found a spot to sit in, laid down the blanket, and watched the 'works. The show was good. The crowd was loud, and huge. So we hung out for like an hour after everyone dispersed, to not face the human traffic, or the car traffic.

Oh, and I had glow in the dark necklaces. Here is my date modeling them for you:

And here we are being cute.

All in all, a slow day. But not bad by any means. How could it be bad when you get to look at a cute face like that?