I guess I'm a nerd after all

I've just been reading Harry Potter. I read the last two books (the ones they haven't made movies of yet) and I have now joined the ranks of those I used to ridicule. But I haven't read all of them, so I'm not a super huge geek, but I have to say the last two were pretty good and I read them both in 4 days. That's like 1400 pages folks. Why couldn't I read like that in college? I guess text books don't turn the pages as easily as "the boy who lived," if you will. Yes, I said "if you will." So now I have to figure something else out to do. Besides puke up my breakfast and take long naps, I mean. Naturally those things are my first priority. But once I have them taken care of, I'm pretty bored the rest of the day. Anywho...just wanted to pass on some of my new found dorkiness and say that Harry is pretty awesome and if you don't think so I'll put a killing curse on you! ("Avada Kedavra!") Ha ha ha...I think that was too much. I'm going to stop while I have some dignity left. Actually the funny thing about that is, I was reading the book, and John's totally into them, but the movies, cause he doesn't really have much time or patience for reading. So I was explaining some part in the book and I told him "ya and then that guy put that killing curse on him! You know...wait what is it again? (Mostly talking to myself trying to find the passage in the book) But before I had even turned the page John says really matter of factly like I'm the stupidest person in the world..."A-va-da Kedavra." I'm like ya that, then I burst out laughing because that was pretty much the dorkiest moment in his life since the time he told me during the Superman movie, with the same matter of fact tone, that Gotham city and Metropolis were in the same universe. I however, did not realize that, one being batman, the other superman. Well what is marriage for, if not to rub off our inner dorkiness on each other. I think my dad once told me while I was in high school that every one is a dork in their own way, even the really cool people who never show that side of themselves to the masses. Then I asked my friend Jordan, who was definitely popular if that was true, to which he replied, "No, cause I'm not a dork...at all." And I couldn't really argue. Oh well, as an adult I've embraced my inner dork. And it took me a long time to do it, but I'm okay with it now. Sometimes I wonder if that's what growing up is, not necessarily learning more or becoming a different person, but becoming okay with the person you already were. And I think I have, finally.

No, it was not an accident. Surprise? Not to me.

Yes, it's true folks. Not only was I the first girl in my graduating class to actually commit to someone and tie the knot, but now I will be the first girl to have a child (in wedlock that is). Do miracles never cease? Well, I'll share the story of how all this began. So John and I had been married for about 5 months, and the whole time I'd been doing my internship. So of course I'd been stressed, and tired and just thought that my somewhat depressed and somber mood and sudden tearful outbursts were only the work of a lot of change as well as two people with different schedules, new jobs and no time. When one night John and I decided that I was not myself and basically that is was the birth control that I was on. Which was the Nuva Ring. So after a convo about all my weird personality changes, like depression ( I'm always happy), sadness even when I wanted to be happy (seriously we were on vacation), random tearful outbursts over nothing (one night john didn't say I love you and goodnight, so I turned over to have a good cry about it), and other general crazy mood swings, including headaches, fatigue and just wanting to rip people's heads off.

One time, when I was still a lunch lady for my internship, this little first grader was moving through the line with the speed of a special olympic hurdler. And he had a look on his face to match. It was all I could do not to tap on the glass in my fit of Nuva Ring rage and yell "Move it along you little terd!" When I started experiencing the inner fiery rage towards complete strangers on the street, just because of the look on their faces, or their slower than normal left hand turn, I knew something was up. But it was not until that night that I realized when John and I were discussing it, that I truly was crazy. And I felt crazy. So that month I took out the Nuva Ring. The next month all was well, then the month after that I found myself with child. I went to John's work because I could barely contain my excitement and told him. He was ecstatic, but didn't really believe me at first, since we hadn't been trying that long. But he was so happy and called his parents, and I called my mom. It was pretty special. Both families are pretty stoked.

So we had decided that night when I stopped the Nuva Ring that we would leave it up the big guy upstairs to decide when we got pregnant, having each known lots of people who took a long time to conceive, we figured we didn't want to be stuck at 30 with no baby. Little did we know that we are two of the most fertile people on the planet. So I guess next time we'll take more precautions. But we essentially didn't take any after that decision. Then one night John was telling his best friend that we were pregnant. I only heard one side of the convo, but this is what I heard. John: "Ya man, she's pregnant!" "Ya we're pretty excited." "Ya it was a surprise." To last part I couldn't help but burst out laughing. I'm like "It wasn't a surprise!" We knew this was going to happen...we were having unprotected sex. A lot. To which John's like "Well it was a surprise to me!"

But he's elated...as long as it's a boy. LOL. Atleast that's what he keeps telling me. Something along the lines of teaching him to pee in the snow or on the wall or something. You know boy stuff, penises, manliness. All subjects that elude me. But either way I'll be happy. I want whatever we're having and I'm sure I'll love it no matter what. So today we heard the heart beat, which was really fast, but normal apparently. And I'm supposed to maybe be able to feel it now or soon. Which I thought was hilarious, because the doctor's like..have you felt the baby yet? I'm like, "I don't know what does it feel like?" And she replies, well it might either feel like a gas bubble moving, or like a butterfly fluttering real low down there in your abdomen." So I'm like, "Well I might have, I mean I have a lot of gas." But come on! How am I supposed to distinguish between gas and a baby. Even though ever since then I've found myself stopping and muting the TV, yelling at the dogs to stop licking themselves, and concentrating real hard to see if I can feel anything. But then I come to my senses and realize I'm insane. I did think I felt something at one point, but then I just had to fart. So most likely NOT the baby.

But anyways, it's been an interesting ride so far. Morning sickness sucks. It shouldn't be called morning sickness, it should be called stop eating sickness, because it comes whenever I'm about to eat something I've really been looking forward to, ruining the meal for me. All for the best I guess, the more I can slow the growth rate of my butt cheeks the better, and just when I thought my boobs couldn't get any bigger...they have now started growing outward in a cone shape, like the Madonna video. If I lived in the fifties I'd fit right in I think. So needless to say I never leave my room without a bra on. Cause I did one morning to take the dogs out and got some pretty interesting looks from the neighbors. But I'll say this, I doubt the baby will have any trouble latching on when the time comes to breast feed. Well I'm sure that's too much info. But anyways I guess I better end this blog, it's pretty rambly and incoherent. Enjoy your thin bodies, and shirts that don't ride up while you can!

It's been a while...

Hey all, sorry I haven't written in a while, but I just wrote a long one about what I've been up to recently on our other blog John and Margan. There's a link off to the right. John writes on there too. So check it out!

Thought for the Week: Why do we say "A penny for your thoughts," but then someone has to "put in their two cents." ? Where does the other cent go? To taxes? Riiiight.

This Very Christmas Night

So...I'm sitting here in American Fork Hospital on Christmas Day next to my husband of a little over one week. John is laying here recovering from an emergency appendectomy. The honeymoon is definitely over...but not necessarily in a bad way. He had been sick all last night with what seemed to be either food poisoning or a bad stomach flu. He was adamant about not going to the doctor. However around noon today, the pain started to worsen in his stomach. And when he looked at me and said "The pain is getting worse baby," with the voice of a scared little boy I told him we were going to the doctor. I didn't care what his objections on the subject were And in that same scared whisper he said "okay." And as we were waiting in the emergency room and he was crying in pain, I knew it was good we had come. Which by the way...I've never understood that. It's called the emergency room, yet you wait? Isn't emergency by definition mean urgency? And the staff there walk around like they've got all the time in the world. That has got to be the most frustrating thing of the whole deal. We're sitting in the waiting room and this person who appears to be fine gets in before us, because he came five minutes earlier, while John is clearly doubled over in pain. Ridiculous. I would have done anything to have been the one in pain instead of him. You honestly know that you care for someone with everything you are when you can't bear the thought of them suffering in any way. Finally he got some pain meds and some care, and just in time too because I couldn't watch him squirm anymore. They ran some tests and his appendix was inflammed so they decided it needed to come out and six hours from the time we arrived at the hospital he is out of surgery and recovering. So Christmas eve I walked the dogs alone, ate potstickers and nursed my sick husband. And Christmas day I've been at the hospital most of the day. But now that John is safe and out of surgery and they got his appendix out just in time, a sense of what Christmas is truly about and an awe at the many blessings I have, has been renewed in me this Christmas night. While John was in so much pain and we didn't know why and then when he was in surgery I knew exactly how much he meant to me and how much I loved him. The thought of him leaving me seemed so unfair and cruel. But I wasn't thinking about the Christmas dinner and festivities that we missed with my family, or the presents and the fun we could have been having right then. All I could think about was John and my need for him to be okay. And I can see already how this experience has brought us closer together and even showed John how much he loves me too. So while I would never want him to have had to go through this, I am grateful that we did. Because Christmas isn't about ribbons or presents or trees or lights or good food. It's about Christ and his birth and ultimately his sacrifice for us, so that he could take away any sin or heartache or pain that we would have to endure. And I have felt the power of that sacrifice on this night, this very Christmas night, in a hospital room in American Fork, Utah.

A Brush with Danger

So today was Thanksgiving. I woke up and went over to Johns to start making rolls and jello and some other stuff I was supposed to bring to our family thanksgiving at my brothers. I decided to shower later on at Johns so that I could start on the food I had to make. That was my first mistake. So I make the rolls and then go to take a shower while they rise, before putting them in the oven. After getting out of the shower and dressed I realize that I forgot a brush. So I go to John's bathroom to see if he has one. All he has is one of those hard bristled skinny round brushes from like 1985. I hestitated, but I was in a bind and in a hurry so I pick up the brush and begin to quickly start brushing my messed up toweled dry hair. I started with the front, combing it forward to make sure my bangs got brushed through first. Then all of a sudden I can't move the brush or get it out of my hair. I HONESTLY have NO IDEA how this happened. Perhaps a sudden wrong twist of my wrist or something, or on the up stroke my hair was still in the brush so it just wrapped around those old little plastic bristles. So I pull on it and then twist it one way, then the other, to try to see just HOW my hair is still caught in this brush. But every movement seems to tighten the brush more securely to the base of my scalp. By this time I begin to panic. I have a wedding 3 weeks away and all I can imagine is having to cut this dang brush out of my head leaving a huge bald patch on the top of my head. So naturally the tears are flowing down my cheeks and I am running down stairs, all the while trying to pull the brush out of my hair, which might as well be glued to the front of my head at this point. I wake John out of his Turkey Day nap on the couch with my exasperated pounding down the stairs, and whinning cry. He calmly asks me what's wrong and what's happened and hugs me and tells me its going to be okay. So we go upstairs so he can try to get it out.

After forty minutes and one break down in the middle, where I exclaimed amid a mass of sobs "We're both going to have a bald spot at the wedding!" and a few other fits of rage John has pulled all the bristles out of the brush with his pliars, and I've soaked my hair in a bowl of water to loosen the brush. I was finally free with a mangled mess of hair resembling a small birds nest on the front of my head. So I re-wahsed my hair, pulling a couple of hand fulls out and half an hour later we're off to Thanksgiving dinner.

The moral of this story is do not ever, and I mean EVER use a hard little round brush that is only meant for guys. Guys who don't have that much hair in fact. Especially on Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for John that he took the time to get it out, while salvaging most of my hair, albeit at the expense of cutting off and tearing out the bristles from the brush he's literally had since junior high. Better it than me.

What a good boy

So get this. John actually went and got a mystic tan, for all the crap he gave me and how grouchy he was he just went and did it. Gosh, I just really love that guy. But he didn't know you couldn't shower for six hours after, so he went to work smelling like tanning stuff and his toe nails are all gross looking because he didn't put on any barrier cream. Hilarious. Poor guy. Put he definitely rocks the Mystic Tan. I mean he looks good. I mean really good. I wanna be friends with him. Or maybe more?

Diet Coke Crackheads, Runaway Nagging Trains and the Morning Grouch

Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy! Planning a wedding is so stressful! I wish we could just elope. Like this morning, I realized that the day we're taking our engagement pictures will NOT be a good day for me, if you know what I mean. As much as I would love to be covered in zits and looking like a bloated cow, just like every other time we've taken important pictures it might be better if we moved them up. (The time we went to my house and to San Francisco, when John proposed, and now...our engagement pictures...which are not cheap.) So excuse me for freaking out a little bit and wanting to change it to this wednesday instead of next. But that throws a wrench in all my other plans because my mom is arriving that day and we had the day all planned to look at dresses and pick invitations. So I call John this morning from work, in a panic (probably because I had just drank way to much diet coke, so I'm talking as fast as a crackhead after their morning fix) and ask him if he can quickly go get a haircut and a spray on tan this morning before he goes to work at one. (I don't care what he looks like...I love him and it doesn't matter, however I do know him well enough to know that when I am tan and my teeth are white and he looks like Powder standing next to me in the pictures he will hate them. ) So in reality I'm looking out for his better interests. I think he'll look great no matter what, but he is a slightly harsher critic, anyways...I digress. So John's not really a morning person...and I can tell I'm seriously throwing a wrench in his morning of lounging around watching TV as he wakes up before he goes to work at one. And I can hear my voice and the way I'm talking, but I just can't stop. I felt like a runaway train full of anxiety and nagging. (Which normally isn't me). "Okay did you put the wash in the dryer yet? I don't want it to smell like mildew...How are the dogs?...So can you go get Mystic tan and a haircut?" By which I get the annoyed, raspy, "just woken up voice" reply of..."What's a mystic tan? How long does that take? I'll get my haircut on Wednesday morning, cause I have to go to Terri, I won't go to sucky Supercuts!" And I reply in an equally annoyed tone, "a mystic tan is a spray on tan...but professional! It takes like five seconds, gosh!" But then I feel so bad for bugging him, so I'm like "I'm sorry just do whatever you want"...and continually in the crackhead voice..."Are you mad? Don't be mad..you're annoyed aren't you...okay well I'll let you go." To which I know John's like "hallelujah you psycho..." But he just replies..I'm not mad, why would I be. okay talk to you later...So we get off the phone, but I just feel like a loser who just bugged the crap out of her fiance for no apparent reason. But I guess that's what diet coke can do to you in the morning hours. And what a wedding to plan can do. And I am still so mad about the pictures, but I can't call them till tomorrow because they're closed on Mondays. And on top of it I think i'm getting sick. So I guess we'll just have to leave the pictures where there are. Anyways the moral of this story is...don't call your fiance and bug them unless it is absolutely necessary. In my defense I thought it was. But I was wrong. Cause nothing is important enough to talk to John about while he's still waking up. Especially by a wedding crazed lunatic like myself. Trust me. It's a recipe for annoyance on both sides. But really who can blame the guy, I ambushed him. I just wish I hadn't cause I love him and I don't want to annoy him, ever. But that's pretty unrealistic.

Princess Maya

So John bought me a dog. Her name is Maya. She's a dog we got from this family who's child was allergic. The sad thing is that the family loves this dog, which they should because she's really sweet and smart and cute. So they don't want to give her up but evertime their kid gets near it they practically have to take her to the emergency room. So we went to look at her last week. And we took Frank, John's dog, with us to see if they would get along before we decided anything. So we go to the Woodman's house and Frank and Maya are just playing and running around the yard, getting along great. So we decide we're going to go talk about it and we'll get back to them. We say our goodbyes and leave and as we are walking away from the house, towards my brother's house which is three houses down, John says, "Well do you like her?" And of course my reply is "Ya I love her!" To which he says, "But do you want her?" And I'm like well ya! So John is like "Ok," and turns around to go tell them right then. So we tell them and John gets his check book while they get her stuff together. So then we get back to the house and of course the mom totally starts crying and hugging the dog and then the little kids start crying and stuff. And she's apologizing and then big surprise, John starts tearing up. And all the while I'm getting increasingly uncomfortable. (I'm not a cryer, atleast not a sympathy cryer. I cry when it makes sense for my life.) Ok...so they're all blubbering and I'm like "Well we should probably get going." In the nicest most sympathetic tone possible but inside my body was screaming ahhhh, awkward get me out of here. We're taking this poor family's dream dog from them, let's not draw it out anymore than we have to. So I'm trying to act like it's cute that everyone is crying because I really don't know what else to do with myself. So what seems like an eternity later, we are walking out the door with my new cuddly present. Merry Christmas to me! And since the dogs get along really well. They like to play quite a bit and sometimes get a little worked up but it's great because it tires them out.

I GOT ENGAGED!!!!

Well...it's happened folks. A Neumarker girl is getting married. And it is magical. So John and I went to Disneyland yesterday. We're here in So Cal visiting John's parents. So when we got to the park I told John, "Hey let's go take a picture in front of the castle." You have to have a picture of that. And he's like "No no, we'll do that later." So I didn't really think anything of it but I'm like alright fine. Then later in the day I ask again and he keeps putting me off, and then later again and he's like we'll do it at like dusk, better lighting. Ok...so then we eat dinner and then he's like getting all excited about the picture. He's like "You wanna go take the picture now, let's go take the picture in front of the castle." And at that point I'm like whatever I don't care about the picture anymore, but fine let's go I guess. So his parents were with us and John's like oh let's get one of the professional people to take one and I'm like why? Your parents will just take a picture. So his dad is trying to get the camera ready and John will not take his hand out of his pocket, so that was the first moment I knew something was up he kept a lid on it pretty long. I had no freaking clue. And so then in front of the Magic Kingdom John got down on bended knee and started crying (I didn't, I'm not a cryer, ok?) and he said "Will you marry me?" and I said "yes." And then people were clapping and cheering and then we kissed like in a fairy tale. Yep. It was magical...at the Magic Kingdom. And the ring fits perfectly. He surprised me with the whole thing I had no idea he was going to do it then. He had told me the day before that "Maybe...we could go look at rings to try some on," and he couldn't even say rings when he told me that so I figured it would be a while till he got comfortable but it was all part of the ploy to foil me. So ya it worked. The only bad thing is I looked sick cause we went on this rapids ride and my hair got all wet and then I'm like fat so that's not cute either, but oh well high five for love I guess. P.S. Check out the John and Margan link to the right to see more pictures of the magical day.

High Five for Love

I'm happy to say that I'm in love. I mean I just love that guy. I think he's most like his favorite candy...M&Ms. He has a tough outer shell, but just a gooey soft chocolatey inside. And I like it. I just want to shout it from the top of a moun-tain...but I don't have a mountain I have this blog. So the story in Margan's world is Margan loves John. That's from Anchorman, sort of. It's funny cause whenever I think of me and John I always want to say this one line from Anchorman where he says "Veronica and I had sex and now we are in LOOOOOVE!!!!" and it's so funny how he says it...all excited with the love all elongated and he throws his arms out and I can totally relate except for the having sex part. We as mormons believe in waiting until marriage before having sex. But as you can imagine this can be very frustrating especially when you're trying to stay as far from the line as possible. But since I do love him and I really can't express it any other way than saying it...I feel like I'm saying it all the freaking time. Like I love you, hey I love you, bye see ya later, I love you...hey did I tell you I love you? Ya...ok. And he does the same thing. Sometimes I'm like gosh we are so cheesy, I hate myself. But high five for love right? It's an inside joke between us...and that's really the beauty...everyone else is just, well...on the outside.

Bathroom Adventures

So today I go into the bathroom at work where, mind you, only one of the two toilets flushes properly. So I go in and open the handicapped stall (the working one) and this girl is sitting on the pot. For a couple seconds we share that awkward "what is happening right now?" stare, until I realize this stall is occupied, and quickly shut the door saying "I'm so sorry!" To make matters so much better she's in my region, so she sits near me but she's new so I've never seen her before today. And in my sad attempt at making things better I say "I guess we're closer now! Uhh..sorry I didn't see anything." And then instead of waiting for the bathroom I just couldn't take the awkardness and bounce. So I'm back at my desk, still needing to pee...so I wait for about ten more minutes and then I go back to the bathroom. Except I walk in and it smells horrible. The whole bathroom is full of crap smell. I'm talking HOT SICK you know what. So obviously I'm disgusted and can I just say, for me nothing is worse than sitting down in a stall where there's still a hint of poop smell from the previous occupant. Ok, and that said, I wasn't even IN the stall yet. So right as I walk in and smell it I'm like "UHHHHH, yuck!" totally loud and start coughing. (I have a really sensetive gag reflex). Then I pull the door to the stall and it's locked! The person was still in there! I felt kinda bad but not really since once again I had to bag going pee so that I wouldn't start throwing up right on the bathroom floor. So I leave once again and go back to my desk...I told my friend Emilie and we were laughing pretty hard. She's like poor person in there! And I'm like are you kidding? Poor me! So I still had to pee but I couldn't chance going back in there again.

Happy Birthday Jules!!!

Just wanted to give a shout out to my BFFFFFFF Julia Burgonarker!!! Happy Birthday dude! You're the best. Hope it was a great day! Sorry I couldn't be there!

Every Cowboy Sings a Sad Sad Song

So there's a 6 year age difference between me and my boyfriend. And normally, it doesn't get in the way at all. But I got into his car today (I'm driving his BMW because I got in a car accident and my car is being fixed...long story for another time, but he doesn't need his car because his work lets him drive a demo.) and normally I listen to the radio but I was sick of it, so I thought hey, I'll see what's in the CD player. So low and behold I turn on this CD and the song that it's on is "Every Rose Has It's Thorn." I don't even know if that's what it's called but...you all know it...every night has it's dawn/just like every cowboy sings a sad sad song. Anyways that song isn't bad, but as I continue to skim through the songs it just gets worse and worse. The power ballads just keep coming at me with no warning. Until I hit..."Don't you remember you told me you loved me baby!!!! Baby, baby, baby, baby ohhhhh baby! At that moment I lost it and burst out laughing uncontrollably. I had to keep driving around for a little bit just so I could keep listening and try to comtemplate what this CD was. But really there's no comprehending it. I'm thinking to myself how old is he really? And what's with the depressing break up/heart break songs? Obviously left over from his last heartbreak. And then I'm thinking wow he's way more jacked from that than I thought. I guess it was funny because I pictured him all depressing out the window listening to this crap and the mental picture was just hilarious, because these songs would never be my choice for sad music. They're way too cliche. But all I could do was laugh, because if I kept listening to those songs I'd probably start crying. Not from the touching lyrics or powerful guitar solos, but from the fact that it was there at all.

I haven't been writing because I didn't realize people still read this thing. But apparently they do...so I'll try to keep it going folks. I miss all you guys out in PA.

Random question to ponder: When was the last time you cried?

Nordstrom's Mirrors are Just Sub Par

Ok I just went to Nordstroms. And I am mad. What's the deal with dressing rooms where the light is so bad that you leave wanting to kill yourself? And feel like crap for the rest of the day to where you wonder why your boyfriend likes you at all. Or at least stop eating for the rest of your life. Ok, let's face it I'll be happy if I make it till the end of the day. Something about the 360 degree view of my butt in the mirror and every dimple of cellulite being visible (which I didn't think I had until today) just sort of put me off trying to squeeze myself into some new Sevens. Some thoughts that were running through my head: "I didn't realize I look like a man from the back." "These underwear don't fit as well as I thought." "Does my butt normally stick out like a shelf?" I bought plenty of other stuff while trying to pretend that this particular mirror had to be lying to me, because I'd never seen that person before now. Actually come to think of it I did the last time I went to Nordstrom's. It's probably time to get to the gym because having a day job is starting to pack it on. But listen that's beside the point because for how nice Nordy's is supposed to be...it's time to invest in some softer lighting, and possibly some more slimming mirrors. Because they just lost a customer.

College vs. High School

I was just talking to one of my friends from high school about how much fun it was. We're both here at BYU and both agreed that college sucked compared to high school. Like when we got to the dorms it was like...what? There are rules? Boys can only come in my room during a 2 hour window on wednesday nights? And it's called visiting hours? What are we in a hospital? More like an insane asylum with all the weird momos walking to campus with their scriptures and walking around with smiles plastered on their faces the whole time. When I first got to BYU (and I thought I was a pretty happy person) it made me so mad how everywhere you went everyone was just smiling and skipping, chasing butterflies through the quad. It's like wipe that stupid grin off your face. I know you're thinking I'm devoid of the spirit. It's not that, I just don't smile ALL the time. But after a while I got used to it, instead of letting them ruin my day. Some of us need caffeine or some other mood altering drug to smile and giggle for no reason. I was more free in high school than I was through all of college. It's kind of ironic, you're supposed to branch out in college and grow, experience things. My college experience was more stifling than high school. I haven't decided if that was good or bad.

I'm Having Trouble With My TPS Reports...

I think my favorite thing at work now is not having to talk to angry customers who are pissed because their salesman lied. When salesman lie, we have to deal with it. And I hate it. It's great now though, because I just do inventory and I rarely do CSR stuff, only when their busy. But I often feel like office space. I work in my cubicle, and I have stuff to do, but it's so true, so many times, you just stare at your screen and pretend your working. I come in, sit down at my cubicle, check my email, then my work outlook and then get started on stuff for the day, but always somewhere in there is some good staring blankly at the screen time, or I'll click the different tabs on the dish site. If I'm done with updates I'll do them again, or just keep a window up in case someone walks by and wonders if I'm working. I mean I usually am, but there are times that everything is done...and is it my fault that I'm a fast worker? I don't think so. But let's all ponder this question...Can dead end jobs turn even the most industrious and innovative minds into slackers? Interesting...

CSR Adventures

So this lady calls work today and she's a total punk...and she's mad for some reason...but I answer the phone and she's like.."I need to talk to someone, I've been calling and I feel misrepresented and I feel like the people who installed my dish left a BIG mess..." I don't know if I was just really tired or if it was how she said it but it was so funny I had to put her on mute so that she couldn't hear me laughing because I totally got the giggles. Seriously I was laughing so hard...I guess just because she was another white trash sounding caller that didn't even know what she was saying...Seriously, "misrepresented" by whom? Dish? We don't represent you...It's like what the hell are you talking about? What she probably meant was that she felt like her salesman lied to her. Luckily I gave the call to my manager because she wanted to talk to someone "In-charge." Riiiight. I laughed for like ten more minutes after that too.

Texting Sucks

What's up with texting? I'm so sick of it. I long for the days when I actually talked to my friends on the phone.

Born Again...

I should probably explain the very last part of my previous post. We have this joke, sort of ever since high school because all my friends were born again christians, or presbyterian or something to that effect. And since then I've talked with numerous friends that are mormon about how they also had friends like that in high school. And to us Mormons who pray fervently with heads bowed, hands clasped and eyes closed with our very formal language the prayers of any other faith often seem informal and not serious at all, even humorous. So one time with some friends we started talking about this and then started imitating the prayers which are often uttered with open eyes, hands at sides and sound as if they are talking to their dad or some friend rather than a diety. And they often go something a little like this..." hey Lord, what's up we're just here, trying to be cool and play some music and just worship you Lord...so help us to do that okay? Awesome, cause we love ya Lord. Alright...in your name, Amen." And all this being in the most indifferent tone, especially the last part where the in your name Amen sounds more like a split second decision to purchase a soft drink rather than end a prayer with reverence. There are many things I don't understand in the Mormon religion and culture for that matter, but one I do appreciate is our respect and reverence for our Savior. And other religions prayers often seem way to informal for me. I remember going with my friends to some of their activities and being so uncomfortable when the head youth leader would be looking around as he was praying and I only figured this out after my friend tapped me because I was the only one in the room who had my arms folded and head bowed. It was so weird. He just kept looking around, and I didn't know where to look and then we made eye contact. It's like how do you keep your train of thought? And I don't mean this in a condescending way at all. I felt stupid because I had no idea what was going on, since obviously all religions are different. Anyways...So it was in that mock tone that I chose to end my last post, because hey...I'm just trying to be cool here okay? Okay. And remember WWJD.