Stupid Rational Head Voices!

So my sister-in-law sent me this link awhile ago http://www.dressaday.com/dressaday.html and the other day I finally had enough time to start going through the archives and devote the proper amount of attention to it and for several days now it has amused and entertained me (my sister-in-law knows me so well). Not only has it justified my overwhelming urge to turn any material I have into a skirt and/or dress, but it has also instilled in me an almost irresistable desire to do so immediately.

I haven't because the large, irritatingly logical voice in my head keeps asking me in this annoyingly persistant, completely calm voice "with what time?" And as per usual, the voice is right. We are in the middle of a remodel mess and I don't even have my sewing stuff in the house because the office is overcrowded as it is and the basement scares me. So even if I did have the time, I don't have the equipment. But someday . . . yes someday . . .

In the meantime, enjoy this clip that made me laugh everytime I watched it yesterday (which was four times, at least) and as dressaday Erin says, "If you don't feel joy upon seeing this you might need a joy recalibration. See your doctor." http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/fold.php.

What happens outside of Vegas is fair game

So, I went to Vegas last weekend to see my new nephew blessed. It was nice to hang out with the fam and watch the guys play Guitar Hero for 8 hours on Saturday, but since that was in Vegas, I can't say much about that. However, the car trouble we had on the way home is fair game.

A few weeks ago, Johnny's car overheated on his way to school. The culpret-a split hose. So when we took his car to Vegas (mine can't go over 75 mph and is much dirtier than this picture)

Johnny brought some duck tape in case we needed a quick fix. Well, we did. The car overheated about 40 miles from Mesquite. Luckily, Johnny's fam was traveling behind us and pulled over with us and helped us find the problem. They duck taped the split hose and we went another 20 miles before overheating again. Apparently the "temporary" part of 'temporary fix' was shorter than we'd hoped. So, we put more water in the radiator and turned up the heat all the way and drove slower and made it to Mesquite. Barely. We started overheating on the exit. So we found a Smith's parking lot that attached to a gas station and bought some more water (we figured it was definitely an ox-in-the-mire situation and thus not a huge Sabbath Day violation) and asked in the gas station if there were any mechanics open at 9 pm on a Sunday. The attendant made a call, and we had ourselves an appointment. So a large, anti-social mechanic named Larry fixed us up and we were on our way. We got into St. George around 10:30, a mere 4 hours since we'd left Vegas.

At this point I realized that going to work in the morning was probably not a wise idea since I have to drive for a living. Even so, I took advantage of the darkness and took a little nap. At 1 am Johnny woke me up to help keep him awake and we made it to Nephi 1/2 hour later. We walked around, woke up a little, and were still naively optimistic on getting home by 2:30. We would have been close to accurate had we not been pulled over at 2:20 AM by a state trooper merely to have him tell us that he was writing us a warning for our headlight that has been out for a year and a half (that was the first time anyone had pulled us over for that). So we didn't get home until after 3 and then I insisted that we unload the car before we hit the hay because when my sister came to check on the house and the cat that weekend she informed me that our back door was unlocked. So I was still a little freaked out by that potentially close call. I wasn't about to leave anything inticing in our car to attract people with bad intentions. So I didn't get to sleep until around 4 probably.

I did not go to work Monday morning, and after this huge ordeal I will say that we should always have half days on Monday. I was so happy, and Monday's are usually my second worst day of the week. So I guess that's the moral of the story: half-day Mondays!

PG-13 Traffic

So I was driving to Lehi the other morning for work (and can I just say, mid-morning drivers are such a different breed from drivers every other time of day. Apparently between 9-11 AM people actually go the speed limit on the freeway, in multiple lanes, and going 60 in the slow lane was acceptable. It was another moment in the Twilight Zone for me I guess.) and while I was on 5th S., a one-way freeway-entrance street, I was stopped at a green light. Yes, a GREEN light. Now this isn't exceptionally unusual when there is bad traffic, which there wasn't. So why was I stopped at a green light, you ask? Well, there was a homeless man on crutches who decided to cross the street during that green light, causing all of us to wait. Now, the man was on crutches and obviously had a hard time getting around, and was rather old, so I'm not really upset about that, and I didn't mind waiting until he stopped to pick something up and bent over revealing a good half of his butt. Yes, the man was wearing no underwear and didn't have a problem showing a good part of Salt Lake traffic his old, saggy butt. I looked away, but not before I got an all too good look. I only hope that the other side of traffic didn't a rated R view. And all the while I'm sitting there averting my eyes, I keep thinking, if I had just gone the way I normally do to get home from work, instead of taking this road, I could have avoided this whole scene. But then again, I wouldn't have known that I was avoiding anything and then what would I blog about? So I gues the moral of the story is don't be upset the next time your stuck in traffic. You might be missing a really ugly streaker flashing another road.

Stupid Human Tricks

No, not the stuff on late night talk shows, but the tricks the stupid human inside me likes to play. For example, this one time, I was driving to Magna, and I decided to take the long way, I-80. Well after successfully fulfilling my purpose in Magna, I get back on SR201 to get onto to I-80. I turn onto the street that leads to I-80 West (the way I need to go) and think, I don't need to go WEST, I need to go EAST. Yeah, no idea where this stupid person comes from. So I get onto I-80 and immediately realize that I've been tricked. So I turn around in Tooele, but the on ramp for the freeway isn't an easy turn away from the offramp like every other exit. Oh no, I have to go down another SR and then make a left, turn around, then backtrack to the freeway.

And then another time, I was going to Magna, and I took the short way this time, I-215 to SR201. Get done, get back on SR201 and head back to work. I see the 215 exits and think, ok, I have to go NORTH to get back to work. Then immediately merge into the southbound exit. Why? because the stupid person inside my head freaked out and tricked me. So after much stress (yet another exit that's not normal, the onramp for the Northbound is a right turn after you exit . . . not cool) I finally got onto I-15 and went back.

So I thought maybe the stupid person just didn't like Magna for whatever reason because I hadn't seen or heard from him in awhile (yes, he's male because that makes sense), but then he struck again. This time it was at the court house. I was filing some documents. This is not a hard task. There's a date stamp and you stamp the original, put it in the basket, stamp the copy and take that back. To make it even easier, the originals are papercliped and the copies are stapled, so you don't get confused. (Yes, a monkey could do my job, but don't worry, I'm working on making myself indispensible.) I did this with 5 documents, then walked back to work. When I gave them to the assistant who needed them, I noticed a paperclip. Yes, I had stamped an original and taken it back with me. So I had to walk back to the court just to drop off a paper in a basket. My life would be so much easier without the stupid man inside of me. Luckily it was a nice day.

But I think I've figured out the problem. I spend hours somedays doing ridiculously menial tasks like taking out staples, copying, scaning, and 3-hole punching, which is what I was doing yesterday. I think this results in a serious lack of brain cells in a particular section of my brain that has turned into Stupid Man. He rears his ugly head when the rest of my brain takes a vacation to escape the boredom. I'm going to have to cut back on vacation time, for my own sake.

March puts the 'run' in runner

I guess this month is very appropriately named because I have been marching all around the valley. I guess I can just assume that even though it doesn't look like I'll be busy in the mornings, I really will because it couldn't really be March if I'm not running. And I am after all, a runner.

Last Week

As promised, I will tell you about the oddity that was last week.

So, it started off with a Monday, that was so crazy and busy that it felt remarkably like a Friday--not one of those hooray-it's-Friday type Fridays, but one of those I-really-need-a-weekend-NOW Fridays. Not good on a Monday because as we all know, Monday's aren't the greatest day's anyway mainly because it's the beginning of the sometimes very long work week. So instead of getting a weekend after this Friday-feeling Monday, I get a Tuesday.

Now Tuesday was really dead, and somewhat boring, and oddly enough felt a little like a Friday just because it was so dull. Only a week that has run itself out could feel like that. Yet, it was only Tuesday.

For various other reasons, both Wednesday and Thursday felt like Friday's also. And by the time Thursday hit, I was so confused that I actually started seriously thinking that it was Friday. The other days of the week, I maintained my sanity and could at least identify the actually day, but not on Thursday. So convinced was I, that I went home expecting a weekend.

Needless to say, the REAL Friday wasn't very fun to wake up to. And to make matters worse, the whole day--the one day the should legitimately feel Friday-esque--felt like a WEDNESDAY! Now that's not even fair. Wednesdays are the worst day of the week, followed by Monday as a close second.

So it wasn't the best week last week, and it wasn't even my fault.

9 to 5 3/4?

Whatever happened to working until six meaning actually working until six and THEN leaving? I left work at 5:45 PM yesterday--late by the way because work was crazy (but more on that later)--and it was like a ghost town in my building. The receptionist left with me, odd since we are open from 8-6 everyday, the company I pass on my way to the parking garage had it's lights off and looked abandoned (but I really don't know what their deal is since no one was there when I got in this morning either. They must have a really wierd schedule), and the woman in the parking booth was gone and the arms were up . . . this is at least five minutes before they used to be up (we just switched parking companies). And hardly anyone was on the roads. Was there something going on yesterday that I didn't know about? Maybe since the Office was a rerun. Why would they rerun the Office for no good reason? But I digress . . . it was a Thursday, people! I can only assume that I was having one of my random jumps into the Twilight Zone which happen occasionally yet continue to freak me out. As this blog clearly indicates.