Say Goodbye to Seattle

So hopefully no one outside of Seattle has been subjected to this song that is supposed to be like our new theme song or something. You should listen, just to be horrified, but just be warned, you will be horrified. And if you are not, you're weirding me out a little. I will give you that the drawings are cute, but I don't think this is the "official" video.



I reject this song. Do we even have manta rays in Seattle?

At least the following song involves montages with men in flannels:


Mind you, just looking at the flora and fauna in the video I'm willing to bet it was filmed in California, but it still is less repugnant than the stupid manta ray song.

I've been trying to figure out what our song would sound like. I personally believe it should be mellow (and that first song causes me too much nausea to be "mellow.") and have at least a little bit of a grunge sound at it's root. All I know is, dude should not have been allowed to publish that song. He's not our rep. In no way could this song be the soundtrack to your day in downtown Seattle. Someone needs to make this boy stop.

Haiti

I can't stop thinking about Haiti. Did you catch the Hope for Haiti benefit Friday night? I thought they did it real classy-like. They didn't really even announce the stars, or credit them on-screen. They totally kept the focus on Haiti. And I hope the millions of dollars they raised helped. My heart goes out to that poor family. I hope if there are people buried alive they are found soon. Such a nightmare. Let's pray for them all.

Here's a few of my favorites:

I'm In Love with My TV

I'm going to have an affair with my TV. First of all, Carrie gave me one of her old TVs because her hubby got a new one for Christmas. I am totally willing to be the depository of things like that (Note to self: when something is breaking/broken, complain about it on MyFace).

Second of all, we were FORCED to upgrade our cable package. Okay, not forced, but they offered us a package that's like 8 or 9 bucks a person more expensive per person per month. We decided it was worth it. At least until the "special package" price is over. At which point they will try to charge us through the nose/upgrade us to the next level. At which point I will have to break up with TV because we will be forced to downgrade back to basic loser cable, since the higher price/better package thing will not be working so much after this price range. So it's an affair with an expiration date.

We are all digitalized now, and I have rediscovered the joy that is having two channels of Law and Order to choose from at most times of day. This, my friends, is the definition of bliss. Also two channels of Criminal Minds, my new procedural show I've been sucked into. ALSO: I can watch Leverage, the new love of my life, LIVE. For reals. I am telling you, WORLDS have opened up to me. It's like I have a whole new set of friends. And no need to ever leave my room again. Except work. And food. I still like food. But did I mention we have the food channel also? All I need is a replicator and I would be in heaven. Yes I just made a Star Trek reference. And you understood it. So you cannot mock.

I suppose there is the sticky subject of that whole goal to go to the gym, which is attached to my two incentives:

1. the mp3 player I bought myself with the understanding I would go to the gym
2. the heart rate monitor SusieQ bought me for Christmas.

Pretty much I am inviting eternal mockage if I don't use them. Stupid goals. I need to remember to stop setting those. They get in the way of my affair.

Good Times on The Internets

Remember the olden days when music videos told a story? Also when MTV actually showed music videos? Apparently Korea does. I'm telling you, it's good times.

Excuse Me

My blog on blood letting was especially entertaining. Why, oh why won't you comment, three readers? I worked really hard on that one. The sacrifices I make for a story....

Also I used the word phlebotomist like six times. That's a big word.

That One Time When I Laid on the Floor at the Blood Bank

Once, there was this girl who was coerced into giving blood. She had an irrational and odd fear of needles, considering watching the doctor give her stitches, seeing bone, and also lots and lots of pain do not generally phase her, except occasionally to make her giggle wildly. Because of this silly aversion, she had avoided signing up for blood drives. Because she's selfish. But you already know that so I might as well embrace it and own it, and wear it like my favorite Kermit t-shirt. But, for just one minute, the girl... well, heck... I had a moment of guilt and shame as the phlebotimist eyed me like I was a huge pansy while my friend gave blood, and I felt obligated to go talk to the elderly lady with the stickers and ask for a form. So I gave blood. And it made me nauseous, and tired, and my friend mocked me and said it was all in my head, and I was done.

And now I was in the system. So the next time they called me, I inadvertently answered the phone, and of course you can't say "no, I can't give blood. Why? Because I'm a big freaking weenie." So I scheduled another appointment, and was proud of my moment of Overcoming Fear. The day of my appointment I thought I had eaten fairly well. I didn't have a chance to stop and eat dinner before I went, because my appointment was right after work, but I snacked on sugary crap on the way over to the blood center. Which is pretty much like eating dinner. Also I had had some water to drink that day. The blood-giving went really fast. I'm a fast blood-letter, turns out. I would have done quite well at being sick in the Victorian era. And the guy told me I was done, and gave me a band aid, and told me to feel free to make my way over to the juice bar when I felt like it. So I sat there a few minutes, and I felt mostly okay. Surely the woozy feeling in my head was... all in my head. So I mosied over to the juice bar. And the nice juice bar volunteer offered me some juice, and told me to pick out a cookie. And then there were pretty little lights. And I think my head shrunk. And possibly I was having a seizure. And I said "Um... I don't.... I don't feel... I don't feel... I don't feeeel..." Shoot. What is the word that comes after feel. I could not recall. Also it was very dark. And three phlebotimists came running over and tipped my whole chair back so my head was on the ground. And a cold compress was under my neck and on top of my neck. And all of the sudden I felt just dandy again. Well, just dandy except for the constricted, we want oxygen feeling in my muscles.

And there I lay, in the front section of the blood center, next to the juice bar, for 15 or 20 minutes. I got to drink two juices, and eat a bag of pretzels, all comfy-like, right there on the floor. Apparently they figured if I choked on a pretzel the Heimlich would be no prob since I was being monitored. And the nice phlebotimist took my blood pressure about 72 times, and then allowed me to sit up. And took my blood pressure at least 64 times. And then I got to sit in a chair. And have my blood pressure taken. And then stand. And get my blood pressure taken. And then the phlebotimist allowed me to go to my car, and watched me from the door, looking slightly like he thought that surely I was marching towards certain death. But I made it home, and took a long, long nap. Being the center of attention is tiring.

So last time I went to give blood, I walked in, and immediately made eye contact with the nice phlebotimist who was my blood pressure taker the time before. At first I wasn't sure he recognized that I was That blood giver. Until I was in the chair, squeezing the foamy thing, and he said "take your time" as he walked by. Awesome. I'm so good at making friends. And creative.

This is My Standing Space, This is Your Standing Space

I'll admit it, I watched Dirty Dancing twice last week. Because Baby just has to be taken out of the corner every once in a while. But really, we're gathered here today so I can talk with you about movie theatre etiquette. Or really Being in Public etiquette. Because, seriously. I went to the movies the other night with Dizzle, and as we are standing in line to get our tickets, the woman behind me literally climbed into my back pocket and made herself at home. So much so that while I was trying to talk to Dizzle, I was very clearly hearing about how this 90 pound woman weighed A LOT when she lived in England. Like, the same that she does now. I'm positive this is what she said because she said it at least three times while she helped me hold my purse. So help me, I almost had one of my moments that makes K look like she wants to hide, and turned around to tell the chick that she was making me very uncomfortable, and could she please back up or at least pay for my ticket if we were in a date. Because she was close enough I felt like we were on one. Why do people do that? SPACE people. Pretend you're in Texas. Wide open spaces and hat rims that help people remember to keep their distance. Also guns. That will be used on you if you don't climb the heck out of my back pocket.

So we find our seats in the theatre, and it's not very crowded. Tons of seats. And a group of four comes in, and picks our row, where we are the only two people. And the woman leading the way comes RIGHT up to Dizzle, and basically forces Janelle to give up her purse seat so that she can sit RIGHT next to us. Has this woman never heard of a buffer chair. Everyone knows about the buffer chair. You don't sit right next to people. That's just weird.

I tell you, in my day, we behaved all civilized. What's this world coming to?

Ways to Spot People You Should Not Trust

Today at Hollibery school we are talking about trust. These are some good'uns that I've seen used by my clients, questionable friends, and teenagers everywhere.... Here are some red flags when considering which friends you can trust to keep your deep dark secrets.

1. If they like to gossip about other friends when you are there, consider the fact that you might be the topic of gossip when you are not there. Which brings me to...
2. If they start sentences with "Susie told me not to tell anyone this, but...". This might be an indicator that their promises to keep secrets are conditional, and might be broken due to fall-outs, shifts in mood, or the weather.
3. If you see them lie to other people, and wouldn't know that they were lying if you didn't know the truth about the topic.
4. If you have seen them use other people's secrets as ammo against that person to get what they want.
5. If they say things like "I don't really want to spend time with her..." and then are constantly spending time with her. And they say it about multiple people. Because, what are they saying when they spend time with you?

My little teenager that volunteers with me right now at my work was telling me about just some of these dilemmas the other day. Ah, the loyalty of friends. So refreshing.

Goals: A Reason to Make a List

I don't seem to have posted my New Year's Resolutions last year. I decided to make them all private and meaningful or something. I know I posted them in 2008. I feel the urge to post something this year, although you may not get the whole list. I do like a good list, and I will most likely have more resolutions than all of you combined (yes, all three of you) by the time I'm through. Here's just a smattering of my Resolutions:

1. Exercise, therefore not incurring my sister's mockery and potential wrath for requesting a heart rate monitor for Christmas and not using it. I totally have done this for three days in a row now. As I mentioned once way back when, I'm a firm believer in having unambiguous goals that you can actually reach. So instead of "exercise more" (which I suppose I've already achieved for the year), I shall say, run a ten minute mile. Shut up, stupid in shape people. Also there's more to the goal, but I'm not going to tell you now because you just got lippy. See how you vex me?

2. Spend more time with my teenagery niece and nephew. This will not be very hard, because "more" can be accomplished by one stint of quality time with either one outside of family events. Bad auntie. Also spend some more time with my little squirts. Little Brother is almost convinced it's safe to let me hold him now. I'm making some serious progress here.

3. Quit smoking. Oh... wait... hmm. Well. Check.

4. Find a new way to volunteer. Simmer down, there, Dizzle. I mean in ADDITION to Camp Fire, not instead of. Because my Camp Fire kids love me, as they should. And volunteering broadens your horizons and gives you new skills, as well as sharpening old ones. Also you can put them on your resume. I realized that last year.

5. Read the whole Book of Mormon from front to back at least once during the year. You know, instead of losing my place and starting over all the time. So I can be all religious-like and spiritual. I'm also thinking I shall read the whole Old Testament, since that's what we're studying in Sunday School. And um, just to clarify to my not Mormons, this is in addition to studying the scriptures by topic at church and stuff. I read 'em, I swear.

6. Learn more about the people I work with. Read books about mental illnesses. Learn more about addiction. Read some books on alcoholism. Read some books to understand other cultures. Phew, I need to be reading me some books. Let me know if you have recommendations.

What are your resolutions? Or are you resolution haters?

Why You are Paranoid

If there is one thing that makes me giggle, it is people who talk all high and mighty like about how MyFace is a time waster and better yet "they don't want to share personal information for all to see." Um, it's called privacy settings, folks. Also it's called not accepting strangers as friends. OR, crazy though, don't share personal information. Just a thought. Do I post my phone number on my page even though everyone who is my friend is someone I know? Um, no. Because if I wanted them to call me they would have my number. That's an option. An option I will say was handy when we were moving into our apartment, and we needed help, and one of the Mormon boys whipped out his fancy phone and looked up numbers of guys to help us move and called them. All because of MyFace. And let me tell you also, there is this "decline friend request button." For the keeping of the privacy and whatnot.

When it gets irritating is when the "media is evil" people chime in. It's about the way you use the media, cranky people. I don't play games on MyFace that involve nurturing pretend animals, because it would make my head explode from the stupidness of it all. I don't judge if others do it, it just doesn't sound like fun to me. But to say that you don't do MyFace because you "hear it is a timesucker" is kind of like saying you're not friends with Mormons because you hear they are judgemental. I mean, just because you know me doesn't mean that *all* Mormons are judgemental, right?

Also just this last Saturday I sent out a notice to remind some of my Mormons that church starts at a different time in this, the year 2010. See, that's all efficient, and righteous, and not-time-sucky!

In conclusion, Google me. I dare ya. You will find more information on where to find me and what I am doing on my work and volunteer websites than you will find on MyFace. Those darn privacy settings! Foiled again!

You Never Call, You Never Write

I was just watching a little clip on my favorite news source (besides wikipedia) cnn.com about things that have become obsolete in recent years. They listed things like dial-up internet, phone calls (welcome to the world of texting, people!) and catologs (um, love a good catalog. what's wrong with them?). The item listed that I found the most objectionable is letter writing.

Yes, I'm aware that letter writing has been a passtime in decline for several years now. I've been thinking about this a lot. When is the last time you wrote someone a letter (not counting your Christmas greetings)? I love me a good letter, but I rarely write them. Also I rarely get them. What crappy friends you are! Mostly we instant message, text, and write on MyFace walls. Emails aren't even necessarily that common anymore, with the exception of work communications. I cannot get some of my teenagers that I volunteer with to answer me when I email them to save my life.

I feel like we need to revive the art of letter-writing somehow. We could call it retro and that'll make it hip.

I've recently been looking through some old family letters. Back in the day, it used to be cool (at least among the Mormons, not sure about everyone else) to exchange family chain letters on a frequent basis updating everyone on what your family is up to. I think the idea was you would mail on your letter as well as everyone before yours to the next person, and at some point it would start over or something? I'm not smart enough to figure it out right now. That sounds like it might work. You should try it. I guess maybe the whole aforementioned mommyblogger trend is our generation's answer to those letters. I'm all for a good update on the kids. I have my own little cuties that I look forward to reading posts about. But there's a certain romance, a certain intimacy to letters. What about that? Where are my little kid scribbles about what they got for christmas and why their sister bugs them? 'Cause we got 'em back in the day. Oh, yes, my family got 'em. Does your family, now? I didn't think so. 'Cause your kids aren't blogging. Yet.

If You Hear the Fire Engines, It's the Fridge

I was on the youtoober, lookin for a clip like this



To show you the piece 'o' crap that our apartment managers saddled all the apartment with. Turns out, GE sucks. Or at least this model does. So much so that the very same model can be seen here....



trying to burn down the house. I'm just sayin'. And when we complain, they have just the right fan part on hand to replace it with and they tell us not to keep so much stuff in our freezer. Because apparently the shelves are not for storage. Bless the maintenance guy's heart, he's as much as admitted the fridge is a piece 'o'crap, but he ain't The Man, and hey, it's job security, right?

Things Every Automobile Consumer Should Consider

In view of the profuse squishiness of my car, Squishy, that has forced his back bumper into a permanent grin, there's a very slight possibility that I will get to sink further into debt--er, buy a new car.

My sister sent me this peach of a review.



It helped me to realize that there are things one should consider when purchasing that perfect automobile. Things like:

1. Is it easy to park?
2. Is it green?
3. Can I afford it?
4. What if I'm asked to take part in a beach assault with the Royal Marines?