Events occur in real time

Moving in Real Time

2007-07-28T14:16:00.000-06:00

Guess what?? I have a smokin' cool new site for my blog now!

Check out http://www.eventsoccurinrealtime.com/. Let me know how sweet you think it looks. And don't forget to change your bookmarks and subscribe on my new site.

Also, if you haven't already, check out my weekly podcasts at http://www.businessnetblog.com.

Movin' on up, huh? In real time, of course. ;)

Drive Me Crazy

2007-07-09T23:41:00.000-06:00

Those of you who know me personally know that my life is governed by a little thing I call "Allison law." It's sorta like Murphy's Law: anything bad that can happen, will happen. In my world, it's more like "anything insanely frustrating, irritating, inconvenient, semi-gross, mind-numbing, or of the highest unlikelihood that can happen, will happen." I have countless stories of evidence for this law, but my most recent I feel obliged to share.

I have a slightly unhealthy love for my Jeep. It's royal blue and (I believe) so freakin' cute. However, I had an incredibly strong desire last night to drive it into the lake. On a few occasions in the last few months, the car alarm on my Jeep has sounded off at random....usually only once or twice in a row and always in mid-afternoon. I usually just hit the alarm button on my remote and turn it off when this happens. However, this futile exercise was of no help as my typically-freakin' cute Jeep proceeded to sound its alarm constantly for about two hours straight at 3am last night. No jeep thiefs, way-ward cats, or crazy people in sight....it just apparently decided to make a lot of commotion for no reason.

Ya know how everything is more intense at night? Like, hearing a little noise can have you convinced that the world's worst serial killer is breaking into your house. Well, flashing headlights and a siren that would wake up people in Spain is a hundred times worse at night. I laid in my bed, remote in hand with finger poised on the only temporarily-silencing off button and pleaded with any available higher power to cease the insanity and allow me and everyone in my complex (whom I'm certain now hate me) to get some decent sleep.

There are two parts to the Allison Law that apply here: one, naturally my jeep's alarm decides to become positively unstoppable in the middle of the night, when nothing can be done about it. (If someone else was here that could have given me a ride back, I would have at least driven it out to the lake and left it there to beep it's freakin' heart out til morning.) Two, of course this inexplicable error occurs just three months after my factory warranty expires. So it will now cost me some crazy amount of money to fix/disable/remove-and-crush this annoying part that essentially serves no other purpose than to drive everyone in earshot to the brink of their sanity.

Car alarms should be outlawed. I'm starting a petition...

No Man's Land

2007-07-03T00:01:00.000-06:00

I have decided that supermarkets and grocery stores are officially "no man's land." This is, apparently, the hangout of choice for the people that time forgot...when they are not, ya know, hanging out at the post office or the DMV.

During my last trip to the market, the dude in line behind me started interrogating me on "where the party was"...I bought 4 12-packs of coke (they were 4 for $10!) along with chips and a jar of salsa, which he kept inexplicably referring to as bean dip. "With all that bean dip (read: salsa) and coke, there must be a party going on...", he kept insisting. I"m not sure if this guy was attempting to flirt with me or something, but all I wanted to do was remove myself immediately from the checkout line with the creepy bean-dip-and-party-obsessed dude.

While at Costco last night, I found myself in an aisle with two other sets of people. One on the left and one on the right...thus blocking my way through. I was always under the impression that at this impasse, someone must take intiative and shuffle to allow for a clearing. Now, the lady on my left is off the hook for being oblivious because she was simultaneously shuffling a two-year-old and a gigundo case of applesauce. But chick-on-the-right...her ability to speak in some unidentifiable foreign language to her hubby is not reason enough to be oblivious to my need to pass. Granted they were in a pretty heated debate over tomato juice, but how long should I be required to wait for her to move her shopping cart to allow usually-polite-me to pass before it's acceptable for me to clock her with a nearby two-ton jar of pasta sauce?

While we are on the subject of shopping carts, I stumbled on this article on MSN the other day ( http://health.msn.com/dietfitness/articlepage.aspx?cp-documentid=100165289). It states that the number one thing your grocery store doesn't want you to know is that the shopping carts have cooties. More cooties than public bathrooms, public phones, and escalators. Yuck. And while I have been known to push elevator buttons with my elbow and use all means possible to avoid touching public bathroom door handles, there is apparently no way for me to avoid the goo on the necessary-for-gathering shopping cart.

Note to self: Must look into online grocery delivery services....

1.2 seconds

2007-06-21T14:25:00.001-06:00

How is it that, in some situations, the prep time and the payoff are wholly incongruous? For example, you plan...and scheme...and organize...and conspire for..... a birthday surprise party, only for the moment of surprise to last exactly 1.2 seconds...... a marriage proposal, which hopefully turns out well in 1.2 seconds...a contest award winner announcement, that generates clapping in 1.2 seconds (or shameful silence, one of the two). It takes exactly 1.2 eons to plan for 1.2 seconds of excitement.

This phenomenon unfortunately works in more than one direction. It also only takes 1.2 seconds for you to realize how big of an idiot you are....and 1.2 *indefinite-measurement-of-time* to reap the suckiness of your second. 1.2 seconds is all it takes to slice your hand open with a paring knife while chopping veggies (yea, I've done that). It takes 1.2 seconds for you to walk in your house only to realize that you forgot the one thing you went out for (yea, always do this too...do I remember that I went out for dish soap while I'm in the store? No, only 1.2 seconds after I walk in my front door with seven other sacks of stuff I didn't need).

And it only takes 1.2 seconds to slip on your front steps in your cute, if albeit uber-slick-bottomed, kitten heels. And bruise and cut both knees. And develop a baseball-sized lump on your ankle, minus one layer of skin, that requires a night of ice on your elevated foot. Yea, I did this. (I know, insert laugh-at-Al here.) So as I limped around today, and person after person asked me if I was sore from overdoing it at the gym, I had to admit my 1.2 seconds of idiotness. (And no, I don't lie about it and make up grandiose stories of mountainbiking and encountering a cougar or something...) Although I still maintain it wasn't my fault...damn those slick steps!

Drive-Thru Open....Sort of......

2007-06-11T22:48:00.000-06:00

(Note: Prepare for a rant.)

Okay, so last week I pulled into a local fast food chain (I'll refrain from using the proper name, but the term "golden arches" comes to mind...) for a quick lunch fix for my and my sis. Now I realize this is the farthest thing from healthy I could grab for lunch, but sometimes a girl's gotta have french fries.

Anyway, I pull into the double-lane drive-thru and prepare to order. Every time I pull into one of those, I wonder what the point is. The double lane thing really just seems like an organized way for other people in the next lane to cut in line in front of you. I don't see how this is quicker for me really. However, this is not the subject of my rant today. I order extra value and happy meals for me, my sis, and her tots and wait patiently in line for our greasy, re-heated sustenance. I get to that third, or fourth, or whichever window where the actual food is present (sidenote: why do they have that first window when they always tell you to just go ahead and drive up to the second, third, etc window? Really this whole system seems off to me....) and I am told by window guy to "do him a favor and pull forward a bit to wait on our filet-o-fish."

I should preface this tale by saying every single time I've ever pulled forward to "wait," I've sat for about 6-8 minutes, watching a handful of other cars clear the line, until I finally give in and put the Jeep in 'park' and toodle into the place to gather the elusive, apparently un-deliverable, greasy, re-heated sustenance. This trip was no different. I marveled about how, without fail, the fast food people have managed to forget about that chick from the drive-thru waiting on a filet-o-fish again. Here is my rant: Doesn't this trip out of the car and into the restaurant sort of defeat the purpose of using the drive-thru line? After all, if I wanted to get out of my car, I would have just started this way. Just because the drive-thru system is totally inefficient doesn't mean I should have to be subjected to the same insanity of pointless exercises. This girl thinks ahead and generally chooses the more sensible approach.

And ya know what? Free, stale cherry pies doesn't excuse you people! I'm almost speechless by the insanity of it all....almost........

If It Rings True...

2007-05-29T23:25:00.000-06:00

I have a lot of jewelry. And by a lot, I mean A LOT. Really more than I can truly keep up with...apparently.

Several months ago, I bought a red gemstone ring (it was cheap and most likely glass....but it was red.) I was so excited! I got tons of compliments because it was a little unusual. Plus, for some inexplicable reason, out of the 400 pounds of jewelry I do own, I didn't own anything red. And I thought I had solved this problem.

Until I got off the phone with my mom yesterday...

We were talking about jewelry, and I mentioned that I don't own any red jewelry---to which she responded, "Yes, you do...you bought that ring." (Sidenote: Don't ask me how she knows what jewelry I own...we often talk on the phone for five hours at a time...what else do you talk about?) I drew a total blank. What ring? I had no idea what she was talking about...until it hit me that I had bought a super-cool red ring I haven't seen for awhile. I have a really bad habit of shedding jewelry by mid-day and tossing it haphazardly in my purse, car, golf bag, on my sister's kitchen counter or a friend's coffee table. I knew this total disregard for careful placement could get me in trouble one day, but I'm a risk-taker so I guess it wasn't enough of a threat to change my behavior.

The worst part of this situation: losing the ring? Nope. Feeling like I have officially lost my mind given that I can't keep up with my stuff...or even remember it? No. It's the knowledge that I now own something to which I am clueless of its location. Finding it has now turned into my latest obsession--Investigating every pocket, drawer, shelf, crevice, nook, cranny and boytoy's coffee table for aforementioned missing ring. I keep having revelations of a place I haven't yet inspected while I'm showering or driving or waiting for a client. And I rush to check it only to come up emptyhanded. It's really quite sad...I will not have any decent sleep until this stupid ring surfaces...not cool.

I Knew It!!!

2007-05-23T22:12:00.000-06:00

An article was published yesterday on msnbc.com ( Here: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18805010/) about a study done at Miami University in Ohio which claims that it's easier to learn a person's name if his face matches it. Apparently we have built-in stereotypes of which facial features fit certain names.

All this time, I was a little worried that I was just insanely self-centered when I could not remember someone's name, especially in cases where I could only remember the name I subconciously assigned to them in lieu of their real name. There was a guy in one of my classes in college who suffered this fate; I had to bite my tongue to keep from calling him "Ryan" every time he greeted me. (I think his name was actually "Todd".) In my effort to avoid it, he usually only got "Hi..." from me. No potential name mix-ups there.

It's not just me!! I'm not just insanely self-centered (ok, maybe a little...but not because of this!). I now have scientific evidence that I cannot be held responsible for remembering the name you don't look like. Sucks to be you......

Strike A Pose!

2007-05-20T16:40:00.000-06:00

I can now officially say I shook my little tush on the catwalk. (10 points to whomever can name that tune! or the lyric in this post title!)

Last Thursday, I was a model in the fashion show at the North Utah County Women in Business Conference. No points to Macey's for organization (they lost our clothes the night before!), but it was actually way fun to stroll out on the patio and twirl for 200 pairs of eyes. Every girl has an innate hip-sashaying supermodel inside, but most of us only showcase that side when we're alone in front of our full-length mirror. (I would venture that a few guys do it too...c'mon admit it...you flex and fire the imaginary clicky-hand-guns at the mirror too.) But it's not often we do it in public.

As my mom says, I've liked the spotlight since birth, so I thought it was super-fun to strut my stuff. I'm so glad I get such fun opportunities with my job. Plus now I can laugh at the memory of running across the gardens in between clothing changes in my heels trying to get my jacket buttoned. It's a small miracle I didn't trip and end up sprawled out across the stone fountain!

Seen About Town

2007-05-14T22:43:00.000-06:00

Check out the mention of me as magazine-rep-super-girl on my friend/client's local business blog. (Sidenote: apparently he gets some pretty decent traffic from the link on my blog, so thanks for checking it out guys!)

http://utahvalleybusinessblog.com/?p=136

What's better than playoff basketball? Nothing!!!

2007-05-10T19:48:00.000-06:00

This is my favorite time of year. Summer is just around the corner and it's time for the NBA playoffs! Even though there are a few select times during the week that I am completely unavailable (*cough*.. Fox Monday night.. *cough*), the playoffs are like the trump card for all other can't-miss TV shows or otherwise prior engagements. There can be no event that prevents me from viewing a television during the playoffs...especially now that we've hit the Second Round.

Our hometown boys, the Utah Jazz, have been doing exceptionally well, and their Second Round series with the Golden State Warriors has been exhilarating, nail-biting, and occasionally scream-inducing. Golden State plays a crazy game of b-ball, and Utah is one of the few teams capable of keeping up with them. After two games, Utah is leading 2-0. With the winner facing the winner of the Spurs/Suns series in the Western Conference Finals, Utah has a great shot at the 2007 NBA Finals.

I'm sure some of you will remind me that I'm a Kings fan (cut me some slack, I'm talkin' 2001 Western Conf Finals with L.A.....Bibby-Webber-Christie-Stojakavic-VladeD. era), I gotta give it up to the Utah boys. They play some smart ball, and when they are on, they are on fire! And I dig cheering like crazy when Okur hits those threes. I wanna see the finger-blowing magic of his in the Finals!

Reminder: Never attempt to call or distract me during Game 3, 4, 5, etc...you can come over and hang out, but only if you're willing to yell and scream at the TV with me! However, if you can round up tickets to the games, you may call every thirty seconds until I answer. If they make it to the Western Conference Finals, I may be open to negotations of life-time servitude.

Licensed to Live in Happy Valley

2007-04-25T10:32:00.000-06:00

Well, it's official...I am now a Utah resident. After three years of living here, I finally got a new driver's license. Apparently, I'm an actual Utah citizen now. I would have kept the TN one (I still have the plates!) but it was expiring. (It's just as well...like all driver's license pictures, mine really sucked so it was definitely time for a new one.) I also just got a lease renewal notice for my apartment, and for the first time in three years, I'm not moving again! I will sign it and stay comfortably put in my hip little red-and-black-bedecked place.

All these residency issues have made me think about how long I've lived here and how my life is going. My horoscope on my birthday said: "Regardless of what you may be thinking at the moment, you actually do have a terrific life." And while I'm in desperate need of a vacation on a beach, things are going pretty well. With summer just around the corner, I'm heading into the best season...work is busy, therefore lucrative...summer in Utah is beautiful...I have a fun opportunity possibly coming up that would keep me out in the sun doing something I love.

While I'm semi-introspective about the fact that the last three years of my life have been hectic and life-changing, I'm also super-optimistic about what the future holds. "The rest is still unwritten...."

Birchie, Out!

2007-04-10T21:53:00.000-06:00

I definitely like my job as an ad salesperson, but, as it turns out, I have a few more skills besides sales and amazing blog-writing. I spent the weekend talking on a very loud speaker at the local basketball arena, doing two days worth of announcements and giveaways at one of the expos my company hosts. Evidently, I now have the awesome duty of "Mic-girl"at these events.

I seriously dig this job, which is no surprise since, according to my mom, I have dug being in the spotlight since birth! As it turns out, I have a knack for voice-commercial work ("Visit the Preserve, where the living is sweet."), announcements ("Our next seminar will be start in five minutes in the northeast corner of the main floor."), and exciting giveaways ("We are just about to draw for this wi-fi security surveillence camera/$500 cash prize/giant trampoline...let me hear some noise!"). I had multiple people stop me during the show and tell me I should be in radio or, more appropriately, TV (apparently, radio is reserved for ugly people with good voices...guess the TV thing is a compliment!). Check out the plug from a friend/client of mine on his blog (http://utahvalleybusinessblog.com/). He actually describes my announcing voice as a "confidently casual style," and now he wants me to look into podcasting. One lady even told me I should travel around to other shows and pursue a career in voice work. How awesome is that?!!

What are the odds I could get Ryan Seacrest's job?

3 sets of 10 reps of Channel-Surfing

2007-03-29T20:45:00.000-06:00

I can only stay committed and diligent to my diet and exercise regimen for short periods of time. (This is also actually true of other things in my life...like not using my Visa.) I spend a month or two being super-good at attending the gym regularly and limiting my intake of Krispy Kremes and Skittles. And then I get a little lazy and clock, um, like one day a month on the treadmill...after a few slices of chocolate cake. Apparently, I'm not very self-motivated in this area. But no one should be expected to work out without their iPod which recently and inexplicably broke...right?

Well, who needs iTunes when you can just cease the practically-intravenous flow of calories from a soft drink that is also known for taking blood off the highway?

Lucky for me, I benefited greatly this month from having a nasty little cold (thus, no appetite) and the strict limitation of the rat-poison-otherwise-known-as-Dr.Pepper. So even though I have not been spotted doing many crunches lately, in the last three months I still managed to lose 2 1/2 inches in my waist and a few more pounds.

To my credit, I have been fending off a pretty mean craving for a glazed doughnut, and it doesn't help that I pass the "Hot" sign at Krispy Kreme almost daily. But isn't it awesome to benefit from little-to-no effort? Score one for the regimen of changing the channel a lot on my TV...without a doughnut!

Thanks for choosing Taco Bell, may I take your order?

2007-03-25T22:33:00.000-06:00

"Over the course of a disastrous 15 minutes, UNC made one field goal. One. ( I guarantee you I'd make no fewer than three shots from halfcourt if you gave me 15 minutes.)"
- Kevin Hench, FOXSports.com (full article: http://msn.foxsports.com/cbk/story/6609762)

Amen, dude! I made the unforeseeable mistake of picking UNC to win this year's big dance. Bye-bye office pool winnings. (Just for the record, I picked Ohio State last year and they botched it...if they win this year, I'm gonna be ticked.)

I'm so disappointed in UNC's indescribably-awful performance. One brick shot after another sent this team from a ten-point lead with seven minutes left to a fourteen-point deficit in overtime. How is it possible for a number-one seed to suck that bad?? I'm with Mr. Hench: I could make more shots blindfolded hurling the basketball backwards over my head then these guys did. They would have had a better chance retreating to the locker room and letting the marching band take their shots instead. That would have been less shameful.

In the words of my brother-in-law, these guys are gonna be rolling burritos next season......

On any day that doesn't end in "Y"

2007-03-18T18:42:00.000-06:00

I'm amazed by the complexity with which seemingly simple activities are often conducted. It should not be hard to get exactly what you ordered at a drive-thru window. It doesn't seem as though it should be insanely difficult to find a decent dry cleaner. But I have found the mother of all overly-complex situations...Credit cards.

I don't feel as though credit cards should be complex at all. It's a little plastic card...you swipe it, get your stuff, pay the bill later. Simple. However, the little inserts full of fine print in my monthly statement would beg to differ. I marveled today while I read an "important notice regarding your credit card." It reads as follows: "If during any four month period immediately following a billing period in which a late and/or overlimit fee is assessed, you pay at least the minimum payment each month but the total of your payments does not at least equal the sum of the finance charges billed, plus 1% of your new balance, plus any assessed fees, your minimum payment will be changed to the greater of...."

Shouldn't it read something more like: "If during any four month period, you write us a check to pay this bill and you don't use a green ink pen, raise your right hand, while facing north, and recite the alphabet backwards while simultaneously jugging three oranges, on the third Wednesday, after the first Monday, between 4pm and 5pm, during a leap year, we will increase your minimum payment, take out your knees, shave your dog, set your car on fire, bankrupt your brother-in-law's tractor dealership, and destroy the livelihood of you and everybody you ever met."

Why? Why do they do this? I'm convinced that credit cards companies are singlehandedly plotting to take down the entire capitalist system...preferrably scheduled for the third Wednesday, after the first Monday, between 4pm and 5pm in the next leap year.

Board the A-Train!

2007-03-07T20:16:00.000-07:00

I'm most definitely a very passionate person. This is true of everything in my life...when I'm in, I'm all in. And it's a huge production. Good or bad. And everyone in a fifty-foot radius knows about it. In fact, in the interest of warning people, I should probably wear a sign that says, "Join the party, or get out of my way."

My company puts on four major trade shows every year, and as a rep, I get to spend a lot of time helping with the planning of each show. So on show day, I'm either running around visiting with my clients who are participating or running around helping my bosses pull things together. Today was Day One of a huge local business expo that we host, so I spent the better part of my day racing around in my heels, chatting with people and chasing down items, tickets, supplies, etc.

Today's show closed three hours ago, but I'm actually still on a kind of natural high. As it turns out, all that bubbly energy of mine goes into hyperdrive when I'm part of organizing a huge event. I've always kind of dreamed of a job in event-planning, but I usually shake it off since I lack patience and easily escalate any minor setback into a major catastrophe. (Sidenote: I'm NOT the best person to have around in case of an emergency.) However, I had so much fun today, seeing my clients smiling and witnessing the success of months of planning. I love my job, but my inspiration has been renewed...something I desperately need lately.

My fortune cookie at lunch yesterday said that I will have success in a business of my own. So perhaps today was awesome practice for my dream of starting my own company someday. Join the party, or get out of my way!!!

When can i buy the single?

2007-02-15T14:05:00.000-07:00

Check out one of the Idol auditions on group day:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67X-CdKBzDk

These guys rock! I haven't been able to get this out of head since Tuesday. These guys should just form a group and start selling their CDs now!

Sidenote: I'm goin' on record now to claim that a guy is gonna win Idol this year. And I've called it two years in a row. Maybe I should look into being a talent agent!

Too Close For Comfort...

2007-02-13T15:53:00.000-07:00

As almost everyone has probably heard on the national news, a gunman walked into a downtown shopping mall in Salt Lake City last night and started randomly firing a shotgun, killing 5 people and wounding 4 more. (http://www.sltrib.com/news/ci_5218341) Trolley Square mall is a hip downtown shopping center with cool restaurants and high-end retailers. I wasn't a witness to the massacre, but I came way, way too close...

Yesterday, at 10am, a coworker came around our office with a set of Jazz tickets to last night's game. He couldn't go, so I took the tickets and called my friend to join me. Usually when we find ourselves in Salt Lake, we often eat at a restaurant called the Desert Edge pub, mostly because they have a funky atmosphere and the most fantastic pasta salad. The pub is located inside Trolley Square. After some foiled plans to go there for lunch this past weekend, we agreed to eat there for dinner before the game last night, which would have been around 6pm.

On the drive up to Salt Lake, my friend, out of nowhere, interrupted a story I was telling him with this: "Wait............let's go to the Porcupine Grill instead." Having never heard of this place, from him or anyone else, I asked him where it was. "On the east side, at the base of the canyon." (note: very far away from Trolley Square and the Energy Solutions Center, Jazz' homebase) I then asked him what kind of food they served. "Just trust me, " he said. This struck me as weird, a weird answer to my question. And it didn't really sound like my friend talking.....unusual.....

So we had dinner at Porcupine and went to the Jazz game (and they won!). On the way out, I checked my voicemail and heard a message from my mom about the shooting she saw on the news. She updated me on what she had heard, but it wasn't until we got in our car and turned on the radio to hear the report when it hit me. We would have been there.

After hearing the random reports from witnesses on the news here in Utah, and stringing together our timeline had we followed our original plans, we would have been either getting our check at the restaurant inside the mall or possibly walking down the main stairway facing the gunman as he entered the mall. I sobbed for a few hours last night, totally shaking at the thought of "What if?" What a blessing for us to suddenly change our plans and end up safely away from the scene of such senseless violence...must have been divine intervention.....

We talked later about how one meaningless decision like where to eat dinner could have you fighting for your life. My friend joked about wearing his seat belt from now on (he hardly ever does) because there is no reason to tempt fate...you just never know. I have a fresh perspective on life today. Someone once said, "Yesterday is history, tomorrow's a mystery, but today is a gift...and that's why we call it 'the present'."

Words never rang more true.

Smell Ya Later

2007-02-09T23:15:00.000-07:00

I have read a ton of magazine articles lately about perfume. Apparently, every woman needs a trademark smell; something that is specifically and divinely her scent. Thinking this is only achieved through the use of liquid from some unbelievably expensive bottle, I have been spritzing on samples every time I step foot in a department store lately to find "the one."

I've spent most of my life coated in light body sprays: the cheap kind from Bath and Body Works or Victoria's Secret. Coconut, Pina Colada, Vanilla, Cinnamon...anything sweetly food-scented. It makes sense: I hate flowers on my furniture and my skin. And because I prefer any scent that smells as though it was cooked on me, I've shied away from the heavy, floral, typically pricey, "old lady" scents. But I'm older now and I sorta figure I need to get my scent...that aroma that tells everyone within a ten-foot radius that I'm present.

After a month of searching for a money-wasting, teeny glass bottle of identity, I have been inundated lately with people complimenting me on how wonderful I smell. Apparently my usual cocktail of vanilla and coconut body sprays is utterly captivating. One girl told me she didn't even have to look up to know it was me when I walked in because I have this amazing scent.

Who knew? I was spending all this energy searching for my trademark scent, and come to find out, I already have one. A friend told me the other day that I smell like me. Score one for saving $75 on little glass bottles!

Comedy of Errors

2007-01-22T22:58:00.000-07:00

With the usual craziness that invades my daily activities, I've become pretty accustomed to almost any unexpected, unusual, and sometimes messy occurance of events. Occasionally, however, this craziness turns into more of a comedy of errors, usually ending up with me treating my clothing with Shout.

I had two episodes this weekend that tested my patience, worked my nerves, and definitely resulted in soaking my jeans in Biz. First, I spent the majority of Saturday night tending the chaos otherwise known as my nieces and nephew. I am now in complete understanding of why my sister never gets anything done. Who has the time to clean when you are chasing three little ones, who miraculously move faster than you do? After five hours of wiping runny noses, changing poo-poo diapers, and rocking and singing every lullaby I can think of, I'm convinced that I'm never having kids.

On Sunday, I had a minor disagreement with my deep fryer while attempting to make apple fritters. I would never claim to be an excellent chef, but I like to think that I can follow directions in a recipe. However, after two batches of what can only be described as a congealed ball of glue and marvelling at how this insanity could result in anything edible (which, of course, it really didn't), I gave up and resorted to whipping up an old standby. Since I abandoned the mess, I think the aforementioned goo is now growing something entirely new in my kitchen sink.

Never let it be said that a day with me is boring....

And all is right with the world...well, sort of......

2007-01-15T21:26:00.000-07:00

A miraculous event is upon us...the return of the best show on television, 24!!! Due to the excitement, I figured that I must post some commentary on this miraculousness. As most of you already know, I am physically and emotionally unavailable during 24 and since it is aligned on the same night as Prison Break, I may be forced to go krav on your ace if you ever attempt to contact/distract me on Monday nights....

24's plot centers on the one and only man who has any ability whatsoever to save the world from complete and total annihilation, Jack Bauer. My screensaver actually scrolls the following phrase: "In 96 hours, Jack Bauer has killed 93 people and saved the world 4 times. What have you done??" (and that only counts the first four seasons!) The man is, quite literally, the man. In the first night of the season premiere, he stabbed one guy, ripped another man's throat out with his teeth, escaped a terrorist mastermind, sidestepped an air missile strike, kicked a suicide bomber off of a moving subway, and clubbed a dude with a log. Jack Bad-A must know at least 486 different ways to kill someone.

Granted, the show takes serious liberties with time, resources, and coincidence, but who cares? It's marvelous entertainment. In fact, the only thing I have trouble accepting is why the other people on the show ever question Jack's assessment of the situation. Let's see, he's only been right every single freakin' time he's ever spoken; why wouldn't they question his judgment? Why not be skeptical of the one dude who single-handedly saved the world on at least 5 different occasions?

Oh, one more thing I don't get....if they keep killing off main characters, they are going to run out of people to kill! Although, after the deaths of Palmer, Tony, Michelle, and Edgar, (oh, and Jack a few times!), I'm kind of unshockable at this point. It's just not an episode of 24 unless someone who seems critical to the storyline dies...or there is an unthinkable explosion of some sort. (Tonight's episode: 2 for 2)

Now, aside from the fact that there was a nuclear explosion in Los Angeles and there are at least four more on the way, all is right with the world. And since Prison Break also returns next week, I now get to sit glued to the edge of my seat for the next five months. Yes!!!!

Bang your hairdryer and stomp your feet...

2007-01-02T01:00:00.000-07:00

There are many reasons why I prefer a second-floor apartment, but at the topof the list is the fact that I never have to hear people stomping around in their apartment above my head or making disturbing amounts of noise that upset my daily activities. Living on top means the noise factor drops significantly...it's the perk of climbing 17 steps every day with sacks of groceries or my golf clubs or magazine boxes that weigh at least 200 pounds.

Ironically enough, I (un-shockingly) have the most unbelievably noisy downstairs neighbors. Now, let me add a small disclaimer on noise: I have absolutely no idea of the noise level of my music or TV. However, I am quite certain that it doesn't rattle my ceiling, which is in fact, exactly what my neighbors do, thus rattling my floor. I've never been through an earthquake, but i have a sneaking suspicion that I am registering at least a 5.0 on the Richter scale on an almost daily basis. I have, on more than one occasion, been inclined to knock on their door and plead for my sanity and their eardrums (Me: "Really? at 9:30 in the morning?" or "For the love of Pete, why must you do this during my 102-degree temperature??"). On all these occasions, I wussed out on the grounds that I know nothing about these people and felt that a poor way to introduce myself. And I'm not the sort to tattle to the landlords, so I have lived with this travesty for the past 8 months.

Tonight, I finally reached my limit.

At 11pm this evening, when everything in my house, including the light fixtures, began to shake (and I verified that it wasn't due to the train tracks or the end of the world) I actually screamed in total frustration and proceeded to bang my hairdryer on the floor. Convinced that this was insufficient to stop the madness, I stood up and threw a ravenous fit that included me stomping my feet over and over and jumping up and down until it ceased.

I think I got my point across...

but now I have to buy a new hairdryer....

Money well spent..............

No Sleep For You...Come Back One Year

2006-12-24T12:29:00.000-07:00

Tonight is Christmas Eve and since I have been deemed "Santa's Little Helper" by my sister, there will be little to no sleep for me tonight. Each year, it never occurs to anyone to plan to finish all the late night Santa-like activities in advance, so yet again, we will burning the midnight-sugar cookies.

My family has always had a very large Christmas. In fact, it involves so many toys for everyone (including the adults) that we usually end up getting no sleep that night either....thus my affinity for the Christmas day afternoon nap.

Tonight, however, my sister, mom, niece and I will stage an elvish assembly line of wrapping for an endless string of misshapen PlaySkool toys that require the development of new methods for cutting and taping (and a few little fights with gravity). This goes on into the wee small hours of the morning, until my mom can no longer form coherent sentences.

So the next morning, when all the little ones are bursting with excitement to see what Santa has left, we are all in the corner, sucking down Dr. Peppers and desperately trying to keep our eyes open. If it wasn't for Reese's Peanut Butter Trees and the squealing of 5-year-olds, none of us would make it through the morning.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night...i mean, morning.

Mysteries of the Universe

2006-12-18T22:25:00.000-07:00

I used to think that "self-scan" lines in stores were a stroke of genius...until I stood behind six people at a self-checkout line at Wal-Mart, wondering why the other two self-checkouts were closed. (Really, what is the point of having them?) And why, like the ATM, movie ticket machines, or the doctor's office, these scanners are yet another version of the post office line...where time stops while other people take weeks to process their transactions and I take about 35 seconds. I also started wondering why stores have 30 checkout lines in the first place when they only actually use a handful of them at any given time. 'It's Saturday--in December--at Wal-Mart.' If you don't use them all then, when do you??

My mind started jumping to all the other great mysteries of the universe. For example:

- Drivers in Utah. I just heard that my cousin had a wreck while making a left-hand turn. The guy next to her decided to make a U-turn from the right-hand left-turn lane. How did this dude get a driver's license? (Actually, I fear that I might know this guy....)

- Lunch fiascos. How come, at Apple Spice Junction last week, I ordered the ASJ (ie: "Apple Spice Junction") Signature Salad only to be told that they don't carry it anymore. Wha?? The "Signature Salad" you don't carry?

- Diet, low-calorie water. Apparently, this is real stuff. Seriously....huh?

- My friend Bryan's "Theory of Project Addition" (http://wreckedbyreality.blogspot.com/) It's not really that I don't get it. It's just a mystery to me because it's an unavoidable phenomenon. Sorry, Bry, no amount of listing or planning will protect you from this fate. ;-)

- Serial television show writers. Without fail: I watch a new favorite show and marvel at how the writers come up with all that crazy stuff, and after a few seasons, I start to wonder what sort of crazy stuff they are on... (like the Alias writers: really, why amnesia, why??)

- Uncooperative shower drains. How is it that my shower won't drain and won't plug?

Welcome to life on the event horizon.

Bring on the milk!

2006-12-13T20:22:00.000-07:00

One of my all-time favorite children's stories is a cute little book called "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie..." For those of you that never read it, it's about a little boy who gives a mouse a cookie, which then makes the mouse want a glass of milk. In a marvelously accurate representation of how life works, the story snowballs until the mouse is asking for everything from brooms to scotch tape. This has happened so often in my life that "if you give a mouse a cookie" has become a catchphrase for situations that play out exactly that same way. Allow me to demonstrate......

In a most wonderful, much-anticipated turn, I finally bought a new mattress set!! (**collective applause**) It is a delicious little piece of heaven, and upon waking up this morning after my first night of snoozing on foam-topped splendor, I was ticked that I actually had to remove myself from my own little cloud.

In true glass-of-milk-needing-status, I didn't anticipate that this new bed would also predicate multiples of new needs. For example, a queen bed requires new sheets, a new mattress pad, more pillows, new bed spread, etc...which i guess is kind of to be expected. What I didn't expect is that my new cloud is enormous and dwarfs all of my other bedroom furniture. My 'princess and the pea' nature is loving the fact that I have to physically climb up onto this new sleep entity, but I'm sorta looking down to see my tv. So now I need a bigger tv stand. And a new night stand. And maybe a bigger dresser. And since I need a new bedspread, maybe I should abandon my beachy-palm tree-inspired design and start over with new decorations...which will then spread to my connecting bathroom....oh dear.........

Maybe I should just start with a glass of milk. ;-)

Isn't it ironic!

2006-12-03T16:01:00.000-07:00

I've had a rather healthy dose of irony in my life lately, which come to think of it, really isn't entirely unusual. The subject matter I am about to discuss is relatively uninteresting, but I figured it was a perfect example of the "what-is-up-with-that?" nature of my world.

The bathtub in my bathroom is tragically small and much too short for an adequate bubble bath, but despite its constant shortcomings, it has recently developed a new one. The drain hasn't been draining during showers, leaving an annoying pool of sudsy water swirling at my feet. Sadly, this is not the only problem. A few days ago, while trying to plug the drain so I could soak in mounds of vanilla-scented bubbles, I discovered that this heinous drain will also not fully plug...This means that it won't drain when needed and will suck water out by the gallon when I'm desperately trying to fill a much-deserved bath.

Something working when it shouldn't and crapping out when it should be just peachy...story of my life. Just ask my (sixth) hard drive. ;-)

You Would Think I Would Learn

2006-11-21T21:44:00.000-07:00

Apparently, I am a very slow learner. Usually I have a pretty fast learning curve, but I have noticed that in certain situations, I make the same ridiculous move over and over again. Maybe this is something I accept just to keep life interesting. Or it is the definition of insanity....which in my case is a higher likelihood.

Last weekend was the opening of Casino Royale, the latest James Bond installment. Attempting to be clever, we bought tickets early for a late show, thinking it was a perfect plan to bum around the mall and head to the theater with an hour to spare before the show started...and plenty of time to score the perfect unobstructed view in a set of moderately non-sticky seats.

This is not the first time I've had this brilliant plan.

It's also not the first time I've completely botched it for no good reason whatsoever.

Yes, for at least the third or fourth (or tenth) time, I inadvertently decided to be fashionably late or something and arrived just in time to score the seat in the front row, which dictates that you spend two-and-a-half hours with your neck cranked at an 85-degree angle with eyes darting back and forth in a futile attempt to see the entire screen at once.

How could I commit this travesty over and over? It's like burning my tongue every single flippin' time I am presented with hot food or liquid of any kind. No matter how many times I warn myself first or am cautioned by present company. Or bang my head on open cabinet doors in my kitchen. Or hit mailboxes with my Jeep. (Note: to my defense, it's been awhile since I hit anything stationary... or un-stationary, for that matter.) Why? Why do I do this? I should learn my lesson!

If You Really Knew Me

2006-11-09T17:35:00.000-07:00

I saw something on TV where people were asked to finish the sentence "If you really knew me, you would know...." As it's been awhile since my last post, and for a lack of "al-style craziness" lately, I decided to post some endings to this sentence. If you really knew me, you would know...

...that I am truthful, benevolent, and well-intentioned...

...except when I'm feeling a little devilish ;-)

...that I screen my calls during "Prison Break", NBA playoff games, American Idol, and Oprah.

...that I am incapable of restraining myself and my Visa if there are pearls or purses nearby.

...that I can kick your A...I took krav maga last year.

...that I am a master at looking like I know what I'm doing!

...that I am the baby of the family...and everything that entails.

...that the best way to motivate me is to tick me off.

...that I cry during "Extreme Home Makeover". (Doesn't everybody?)

...that I am a true optimist...despite my tendencies to panic and/or pace.

...that there are very few things I won't try...outside of skydiving, sushi, and skinny-dipping.

...that I am sassy, head-strong, and passionate. (one step shy of crazy, right?)

...that I love my life, my family, my friends, and my Heavenly Father.

...that I hate sarcasm, cold-calling, traffic, and those freakin' Head-On commercials.

...that I adore this blog and the fact that everyone who reads it finds me at least mildly entertaining. ;-)

Your turn to finish that sentence!

The People That Time Forgot

2006-10-26T20:34:00.000-06:00

"The People That Time Forgot" is one of my favorite descriptors for human anomalies. These are the people on subways, in DMV lobbies, on jury duty, and in line at the post office. However, while getting some noodles at one of my favorite restaurants tonight, I was mystified to see a new addition to this group: a couple (not one, but TWO people) ordering at the counter, BAREFOOT! Who are these people?? Heads up: shoes are available at every local Wally World, guys. Stop being gross and at least cough up the $5 for a pair of flip-flops or something!

Don't we have rules against this type of distressing presence in dining establishments? I'm sure the cashiers didn't even notice...after all, who walks around amongst the petri-dish-that-is-the-outside-world sans standard pieces of clothing? What if these two walked around with no pants? I think going shoeless is just as disturbing, but I'm certain they wouldn't agree.

I'm lumping these two irreversibly-screwed-up individuals in with the people who pick their nose in public, the ones who don't wash their hands after using the bathroom, and those who pierce areas of their body that were only meant to be treated nicely.

Un-be-lievable.

A powerful reminder

2006-10-21T12:55:00.000-06:00

Last night, I saw the new movie, "Flags of Our Fathers." It tells the stories of the men who raised the U.S. flag at the battle of Iwo Jima and returned home as war heroes. It is a powerful and thought-provoking movie, but I am most impressed by the fact that I have never filed out of a theatre when the movie was over in almost total, reverent silence until now.

Like most good war movies, there is no holding back when it comes to showing the raw, gritty, and gory nature of war. However, it also tells the stories of the men who fought and went on to tell the country about the battle and the other heroes who died on that island. I spent half the movie in tears, awed by the bravery of the guys who stepped up to sacrifice all for our freedom.

Perhaps often necessary, it is senseless that such violent wars are fought over petty things like land, money, oil, and power. Yet, I am amazed that we continue to have dedicated and proud individuals who willingly sign up to fight and protect human life, freedom, and democracy. I have always had great respect for our military, but I think so many people forget that whether or not we agree with the reasons they are fighting, we must wholeheartedly support the ones who step into the most dangerous and scary situations and fight for our freedom and the freedom of people around the world.

God bless our troops. We are right behind you guys!

Given that little girl's shelf or my bed...I'd take the shelf

2006-10-19T01:18:00.000-06:00

I hate my bed. And since it's currently after 1 am here in Happy Valley and I'm still awake, apparently it hates me too.

My bed is a hand-me-down from my grandparents, given to me when I moved to my first unfurnished apartment. It's at least 30 years old, and since mattresses usually only have a good ten years, I am long overdue for a replacement. I un-affectionately refer to it as "the taco" because you can only sleep in the middle. The memory foam pad I bought last year helped (as in, I no longer feel springs or coils in my shoulders), but it is still quite possibly the most uncomfortable sleep entity on Earth.

This presents a problem tonight because I have been fighting a nasty bug for over two weeks, and my particularly violent coughing a few nights ago strained a muscle in my ribs. It hurts to cough, laugh, bend....basically any actual movement is uncomfortable at best. I was instructed to suck down Tylenol by the bottle, nuke a heating pad, and lay around for a few days to cure it. Normal people get pneumonia or something and take an antibiotic....not me........

Ironically enough, I could barely hold my eyes open around 7 pm, but now that I have an uncomfortable body, a busy head, and an unnaturally early meeting...I am wide awake.

I blame the bed.

This is how my kids are going to get sleep...

2006-10-11T23:06:00.000-06:00

For the past few months, I have often joked to my mom that, due to my unsuccessful dating status, I am going to be the thirty-something single aunt/spinster with cats. (Mom now calls me "the cat lady.") I despise cats and would never own one, but I read a book about a girl turning 30 who feared this exact thing, so i too adopted the idea. I have even wondered if the reason I don't have children is because I have a high likelihood of screwing them up. I'm neurotic, obsessive, unnaturally paranoid, and easily panicked. I usually combat this notion by telling myself that, evidenced my ancestors, these traits get progressively less by generation, so my kids may actually be normal.

However, tonight I was given proof as to why I am not yet a parent....

While telling my mom about a baby shower for a girl at work, I described one of the presents she received as "walkie-talkies." Not once, but twice. On the second misspeak, Mom said, "Well, it's obvious you don't have a baby...they are not walkie-talkies." Baby-mommas don't use walkie-talkies; they use baby monitors, which in fact are technically one-way devices.

My kids are screwed.......

Impeccable Timing: Part II

2006-10-05T21:58:00.000-06:00

Being horribly ill all week, it's something of a small miracle that I woke up at an unnatural hour today to attend a business networking meeting that I'm not especially keen on attending on a good day. However, I obediently went, hopeful to stay quiet and unnoticed in the corner (like that's possible).

What are the odds that I went quiet and unnoticed? Zilch... Nada... I could cover up with an invisibility cloak and still guarantee something would give me away (can't hide the laugh i guess ;) . Not only did I not go unnoticed, I immediately got attacked, I mean, approached, upon arrival by the newly inducted president of this group to be his new "visitor host." This means I smile pretty and greet the unsuspecting newbies before they enter the lions' den, I mean, banquet room, to be sucked of cash, soul, and client referrals.

Am I wearing a sign I'm not aware of that says, "Please pick me!! I would love to be asked to provide considerably more-than-minimal effort!" Now, because of this apparent attraction pheromone I seem to be giving off, I'm now committed to obediently attending these abhorrent meetings AND generating warm, welcoming smiles and glad tidings...something I am shockingly short on in the wee small hours of the morning.

To top off this decidedly unjust turn of events (though not surprising...I told you I'm unshockable...of course, my sick butt was gonna be asked to do something today...I should have skipped), while announcing his newly appointed leaders, our president couldn't seem to REMEMBER MY NAME!!! As about six people correct him, I shake my head in disbelief (now I'm mystified) that this cat asked me to be a leader in his group and can't even come up with my name! What is that about??

Sidenote - Further proof that it takes a woman to get anything done: I watched 7 or 8 guys standing around the breakfast buffet this morning, dumbfounded, because there was an absence of plates on the table. Hello?? What do you think waitresses are for? If it hadn't been for me tracking one down to retrieve some, I'm convinced none of us would have eaten. Un-be-lievable....

Lake KitchenFloor

2006-10-01T20:27:00.000-06:00

Some things are never good. For example, it's never good when you hear ripping sounds coming from anything attached to you. It's never good to follow directions when you hear the phrase, "Heads up!" I wouldn't advise eating anything you don't recognize or that smells highly suspect. And you never, ever want to call me during Prison Break. Never good...

I started thinking about this a few hours ago, when I was the victim of a "never-good" situation. While standing at my kitchen sink, fighting the need to engage in the most vile activity of doing dishes, I began to feel warm liquid swirling around my bare feet. Lesson #437: Sudden swirling of warm liquid is never good. This means either someone is peeing on you, you have sprung a leak yourself, or you are now subject to something (or someone) else springing a leak. Anyway, it turns out that the pipes beneath my sink separated and water was just flowing from the faucet to the bottom of my cabinets.

I'm adding "Mopping up the lake otherwise known as my kitchen floor" to my list of decidedly un-fun activities...although at least it wasn't toilet water.

Impeccable Timing

2006-09-28T21:45:00.000-06:00

You will never be able to convince me that my timing is dead-on. I'm always a day late, a dollar short, a step behind, and never more than ten minutes into a day with a clean outfit. If my hand is flying during an excited burst of storytelling, I guarantee somebody's glass/papers/face is gonna get in the way. If there is a mailbox or a parking garage support beam within ten feet of my Jeep, I'm hitting it. My timing is the opposite of impeccable...it's more like ironic.

For example, why is it that I can make dozens of sales calls and the second I take an afternoon off or a trip out of town, all of a sudden, clients are coming out of the woodwork? Why is it that my cell phone is within four feet of me at least 23-and-a-half hours a day and the moment I head to the bathroom or run out to get my mail, my phone rings and the caller dares to say, "How come you didn't answer your phone?" How is it that when I lower my gaze in Sunday School and silently think, "don't pick me to say the closing prayer...don't pick me to say the closing prayer....." Bingo. Oh yeah...I'm sayin' the prayer.

This can work in other weird ways. Today at a business meeting of several giveaways, my name was drawn. Naturally. That happens quite often in fact. But did I win the cool water bottle? the dinner for two? the basketball tickets? No way. I win the small business accounting book...donated by the very same dude who, a few months back, fell victim to my Are-You-Crazy look when he wanted to charge me a decidedly exorbitant amount of change to do my slightly-more-complicated-this-year taxes.

What are the odds??

That's gonna be my new personal slogan...

Further Confirmation of Al's Law

2006-09-24T14:46:00.000-06:00

Just in case there was ever any doubt of the Bizarro-world that is my life, here is further proof.

While attempting to become more active at church, I obediently posed today for my entree listing on the ward "menu" (otherwise known as the ward directory). After taking down my name, number, hobbies, ingredients, etc, the two gentlemen organizing this information listed my picture on their spreadsheet as number 3666. Apparently, that was the actual number of my photograph on this guy's digital camera.

Now, this is either confirmation that I'm going straight to hell and taking everyone and everything I can down with me in a spinning vortex of evil........or.........it's the seven-millionth entry to evidence that I attract all levels of weirdness, inconvenience, and unusual activity.

I'm so used to these occurrences that I swear I'm dang near unshockable at this point. They should name Murphy's law after me... I'm going to start a petition.

"Hang on guys, this is the door to the food. Wait for it....."

2006-09-20T22:49:00.000-06:00

I think we spend a disconcertingly-large chunk of our lives waiting. For those of us who aren't penguins, entirely too much precious time is spent waiting in lines at the post office, the bank, the grocery store, etc. I can already tabulate that in the last three days, I've spent almost FIVE HOURS waiting. Granted, that still left me with 67 other hours to waste at my own discretion, but I digress...

Due to some egregious error on Daimler-Chrysler's part, I spent the better part of my morning today (read: three-and-a-half hours) at a car dealership waiting on my precious Liberty in a hideously uncomfortable chair reading Dr. Phil's wife's book and annoying the other patrons with my constantly-ringing cell phone. Two days ago, I marveled at the fact that I spent 45 minutes in line at the post office with the people that time forgot, and my transaction lasted all of 85 seconds. I think the US Post Office is now the Bermuda Triangle. If you go in with the innocent intent of the presumably simple act of mailing a letter, you may never surface again.

(PS: I actually took the picture above...couldn't resist the irony I knew it would one day be good for....)

And here I thought I was smarter than a rubber ball...

2006-09-18T17:58:00.000-06:00

After deciding that the exercise balls at the gym are the rubber equivalent of a cesspool, I recently purchased my own.

"How convenient! Now I can work out with one of these things at home! And avoid the inevitable exposure to more bacteria than a spinach farm! Eureka!"

Little did I know that the term "exercise" on the ball's box would refer to the effort it takes to inflate the thing. I'm totally convinced that I have just worked up a better sweat than the usual twenty minutes on a stationary bike.

And I still haven't gotten the f-ing ball inflated. Where is a dead monkey to shoot when you need one??

Coca-diet-coke-a-cola

2006-09-03T17:10:00.000-06:00

Ok, I've been on this major health-kick lately, and I totally get the whole attempt-to-eat-healthy thing.

However, while at lunch this week, standing in line at the fountain patiently waiting to fill my too-big-to-go-cup, I watched this woman alternate filling her cup with Coca-Cola and Diet Coke. Half-a-second under Diet Coke...half-a-second under Coca-Cola...Repeat. Does this strike anyone else as weird? Shouldn't it be more of an all-or-nothing approach?

Last time I was at Bajio, some guy bought, i mean stole, my shrimp tacos. I swear I'm the only person in the world who attracts such weird experiences with food...

Stage 700-and...something....

2006-08-24T23:29:00.000-06:00

I go through stages in my life. I get totally, completely fixated on a new thing; it consumes my life; and somewhere down the road I find myself thinking, "Wow, it's been awhile since I....".

My latest obsession (besides the elliptical machine at my gym) is Fox's Monday night show "Prison Break". I'm hooked. Just when I thought there was no room left in my head for an all-consuming addiction like "24", I found myself rabidly burning through a season's worth of DVDs, in mouth-watering anticipation for last Monday's season premiere. And I must say, YET AGAIN Fox has managed to air a program with a shock-value so high, that I found myself in a moment of true, unadulterated awe. Not since Edgar's death at CTU have I literally spent the last four minutes of the show, and a good six-and-a-half minutes after the show, with my jaw hanging on the floor, eyes wide open, making audible noises of shock. Now that's damn good TV...

My first post

2006-08-23T22:11:00.000-06:00

I wrote the following last February, thinking I would start a blog, so here's the cliffs-notes version of my life...so far....

"I’ve decided to write. About anything—everything. Maybe it’ll turn into a book…or a blog…or another lost file on yet another crashed hard drive. Doesn’t matter, it’ll give me a chance to release pent-up emotions, feelings, anger, excitement, whatever. I’ve discovered in recent months that we all need releases in our life: stress releases-like a spa day or a krav maga class, personal releases-like quitting a bad habit or dumping a loser, or life releases-like stepping away from reality in favor of the unknown. I’ve done all of the above.

Four months ago, I was backed into a corner and quit my first real job after only 15 months. I followed in my sister’s career-footsteps, made decent money, and walked blindly into my first real broken heart. It was all peachy for awhile. Last summer was one of the best of my life. I finally got my first apartment to myself when my roommates returned to outer oblivion, otherwise known as Idaho. I was dating a good guy and spending the days of perfect blue skies, sunshine, and climate-controlled splendor on a blanket under a big acorn tree for hours on end, snuggling with said guy. Life... Was... Good.

Oh, except for my boss’ occasional lectures and endless questioning (Him: “How many people did you talk to today?? Did you sell anything???” Me: “Um, definitely some good things in the funnel…don’t worry”). Oh, and the regular occurrence of a break-up/reconcile with said ‘good man’. ( Aforementioned A-hole: “I just don’t know if this is a good idea.” Or “But I missed you like crazy!”) Gag.

So I left it all behind. I quit my job. I sent the jerk packing. I escaped my reality. It was like starting over again. Alone this time…no fam (close by, anyway), no friends, no guy, no job, no money…you get the idea. And even though I left it all behind, it is somehow still following me around. The melancholy of true heartache. And it’s not just because of the man. I feel like a failure. I failed at my job. I failed at making other good friends in a new town. I failed at succeeding on my own terms. So now I’m left to pick up the pieces…I cry a lot lately……

I know true heartache now (which only comes from a major heart break, hand-delivered by someone you truly loved). I know true boredom (which only comes from 120 straight days of TV movies, paperback books, Friday night pizzas, and way too much chocolate). And I know true desperation (which only comes when you would give absolutely anything to get your life back to the worry-free perfect blue skies, sunshine, and climate-controlled splendor).

So here I sit....typing...... "

It is now six months later, ten months after I turned my life upside-down. I have another job now, a new apartment, and for all practical purposes, a new life.

And...a new blog.....