This is what comes of not posting for a while

A smattering of things I could blog about:

1.) There are some CHARACTERS on Project Runway this time around. Like Suede, who talks in 3rd person. As in, "Suede is an idiot." And that really tan guy with the greasy hair who adds "-licious" to the end of everything.

1a.) I would like to invite Heide Klum and Tim Gunn over for snacks. Michael Kors can come too but not Nina Garcia. I would be afraid of her saying my cookies were uninspiring. I would also like to have Tim Gunn record my voice mail message. I'm serious. If you know Tim Gunn, have him call me. And, Tim Gunn, if you're reading this, my birthday is coming up and this is what I want the most.

2.) Did you know that the recipe for Rice-a-Roni (the San Francisco treat) originally came from an Armenian woman who had to flee the country during the genocide, leaving her two boys with a Greek family and walking across the Middle East with nothing but rags on her feet. I heard the story on NPR this morning and cried and cried. Knights of Columbus, I just remembered she was pregnant. Here come the tears again.

3.) There is a very strict "no perfume" rule in my office. In fact, it's so strict that if you come in with it on and you still smell perfumey after washing it off then we cancel your appointment. This is a rule I can get behind. So, let it be known, that if you have an appointment with me and show up with perfume or cologne on, I will cancel it. But, because we're friends, I will not charge you the $25 cancellation fee.

"But you don't believe in signs."

What would a big earthquake be a sign of on your first day on the job?

Jazz Hands

The differences between the last dance festival (jazz hands)* I went to and Saturday night's dance festival are:

1.) I did not have a broken arm this time around
2.) I went in a limo the first time (not because of my broken arm. I wasn't that pathetic.)
3.) I don't think I had nearly as much hearing loss as I did this weekend

Does anyone else remember the last dance festival at the Rose Bowl - um maybe it was 1985? Do they even have dance festivals outside of California? They haven't had one here in years but they've gotten rid of all those things in the church, haven't they. Whenever my parents talk about the Golden Age of Culture in the Church, when they had things like Gold and Green Balls and quartet festivals and speech festivals and road shows (do NOT bring up road shows with my parents because there are still some very bitter feelings between them on this subject) it makes me so grateful that I was not a ward activities chairman back then. I would have turned Catholic for sure.

Anyway, someone came up with the idea to resurrect it and I've been hearing all about it from Katie and Mom, both of whom work with the youth, and while it has not sounded like much of a picnic these passed 6 months leading up to it, it turned out to be a pretty great show. Mostly because there is nothing better than 12 and 13 year old boys and girls. Kids are hilarious at that age, don't you think? They're so goofy and awkward and they have zero volume control. And you should see them dance. Hilarious. And so cute. I wanted to take all of them home with me.

The kids helped contribute to the hearing loss but it was mostly the fireworks. On Friday I was a chaperon and watched part of the show from a field next to the stadium, or, as the fire-marshall liked to call it, the Place Where They Were Launching the Fireworks. I have to say that I really love fireworks, and watching them explode directly over my head was awesome, but I've been partially deaf ever since. I wonder if they sell ear horns on eBay.

*For six months now I have not been able to say dance festival without either imagining myself doing jazz hands, or, when appropriate, actually doing jazz hands. Sadly, Sunday's at the organ never did seem like the right time.

And thus ended the Life of Elegant Leisure

I got a job. Huzzah!

It's not the ideal job but it will pay the bills for the time being. And maybe, someday, I will be able to go back to Borders (Want to know what you can get me for my birthday? How about a Border's gift card. It has been 6 very long, sad months since I have bought a book and my heart is aching a little from it. I will also accept a tank of gas.) I don't work on Mondays or the weekends (Hello! Permanent 3 day weekend status!) so I will still have time to work on writing and crafts and other such things that I hope will eventually bring me buckets of money. Or at least enough money to pay the rent. Which, with Flo constantly raising the rent, would actually need to come in buckets.

I'll be working for a chiropractor who does things like adjusting the spinal chords of newborns who came through the birth canal wrong. You know what this means...really great stories for me to share with you. It's like we all win in this.

Here are a few things I have learned in my 5 1/2 months of unemployment:
1.) People are very generous and kind
2.) The library is a fascinating place to hang out
3.) The Daylight Hours are something I love and will miss greatly
4.) I can live on far less money than I originally thought. I don't know what I spent my money on when I was actually getting a paycheck (my guess is air and pixie dust) but apparently I can live without it.
5.) Matt Lauer is mind-numbingly annoying

There are a few other things but those are the nub and the gist. I'm off to buy a Wonder Woman lunch box now.

Would one of you like to come over and cook for me?

Do you go through food phases where you eat the same things over and over again? Here's my current one:

Corn tortilla quesadilla with cheese and onions
Omelets with avocado, onions and bell peppers (This is because I have recently perfected the art of omelet making. You must be patient, young Grasshopper.)
Otter-Pops
English muffin with peanut butter and apricot jam
Hash browns

At least one of these things makes up one of my meals every day. Although I generally have 3 or 4 (okay maybe 10) Otter-Pops throughout the day. I like to believe that they are packed with vitamin C and will fight off the scurvy.

What I'm saying is, I need some suggestions for meals.

Importing Exporting

I went for a job interview the other day that made me think that I would be working for Kramerica Industries. I had no idea what the company did going into it and still don't after it. I kept asking them what it was I would be doing and they said, "Managing," and I asked, "Managing what?" and they mumbled something about wholesale mass production. My guess is latex.

Also, it once again made me fear for the youth of today. They were hiring for a load of different positions and there were several kids in there applying for who knows what (I'm not even sure the interviewers knew) and they were all wearing jeans or shorts and t-shirts and flip-flops. For job interviews. I felt like the Wise Woman of the Forest around them. I looked like I was going to the opera compared to these people. And that included the interviewers. There was a man and a woman. The man was showing off his wife beater and the woman was showing off her ample bosom. I'm a little desperate for work but I'm kind of praying that they don't call me back.

Get your pitchfork ready!

Happy Bastille Day!

In honor of it, let's all wear berets and eat crepes and read A Tale of Two Cities! Or we could celebrate the old fashion way and storm a prison.

How about you go for a walk...outside.

Dear Upstairs Neighbor Who Isn't Brett,

I've noticed that you have been a little sedentary lately. How do I know? I've caught on that, even though you don't look it, you're a robot made entirely of a very heavy metal, tungsten maybe, and therefore are the Loudest Walker in the World. I'm fine with this because it helps pass the time when I'm home during the day. I can play Guess What Upstairs Neighbor Who Isn't Brett is Doing Right Now. It's super fun. Sometimes I guess that you're running laps between the kitchen and your room. Sometimes it's disco dancing or jump roping or Dance Dance Revolution. Do you have DDR? You don't seem the type but that's what it sounds like.

Anyway, you've been kind of quiet lately and it's got me concern for your health. Because I have figured out what you're doing instead of practicing your running jump kicks. You're playing video games. I can hear you. I can hear the guns and bombs going off. It sounds like Baghdad up there. It's not loud or anything. It doesn't keep me awake at night. But I can picture you with your eyes crossed and glazed over, drool coming out of your mouth and your hands clamped onto the control thinging, and it has me worried that maybe you're not taking care of yourself. I really got concerned when I heard you in the afternoon yesterday, then before I went to sleep that night, then when I woke up at 2, and then again at 7. Were you up all night? That is not healthy. And I need you healthy because, unbeknownst to you, you are my go-to guy if a rapist comes knocking on my door. I know that you have the strength, the will and the equipment to take anyone down and I'm counting on you to do so if duty calls.

Maybe you should take a break or something. There will still be plenty of bad guys to kill when you get back.



Best,

Rachel

Where can I get doggy diapers?

Dear Maynard,

Is there some kind of club you're the president of? A club, maybe, where you get together with all the other animals I watch and compare notes on how to best get me committed? I ask because it seems like you have passed on your favorite trick to little Trixie. You know which one I'm talking about, the one where you would stand outside and not pee because you preferred peeing indoors on the new carpet. There were several times when I nearly drop kicked you out the second story window (And it would not be the first time I have drop kicked a tiny dog. No, not the first.) because I could not take another night of waking up to the sound of you peeing on the floor beside me.

It's your right to pass on your wisdom, but I'm a little upset that you shared it with Trixie. She's always been really good to me. You may not know this but I was there when she left behind the rough and tumble life on the streets and became a Dog of Elegant Leisure. I was at work and a PE teacher from the middle school across the street brought her in and said that she found her roaming around the track. One of my bosses decided to take her home so instead of going to the pound she got to spend the afternoon curled up in a little ball on my lap. She was very sweet. And she was my very first house sitting gig. So she and her pal Brutus hold a special place in my heart. Why did you have to go and ruin it? She would not stop peeing in the house!

And I feel like I should warn you here. The student is now the master. She has totally surpassed you in number of indoor puddles in one day. Yesterday I had to clean up after her 5 times. And that was even with both back doors open all day long. She would sun herself by the pool for hours and hours and then prance inside and let loose on the tile.

You win. I always knew you would.

Regards,
Rachel

Possible Posts

Here are posts I would do about my trip to Utah if I had time:

It's either Utah, Family Reunions or Rac (but it also could be Aliens)
The three things in common between the last time I threw up on July 4th, 2002 (I don't do it very often so it's kind of a memorable event for me) and Saturday night are: Utah, a family reunion, and a visit with Rac. By themselves they are incredibly wonderful things but combined they seem to have a powerful effect on me. However, the severity of it on Saturday night, and the fact that I spent half of it curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor (ew) praying to pass out so that I would at least 1.) get some sleep and 2.) not feel the pain anymore, leads me to believe that I was, in fact, possessed by an alien life form. An alien who did not get the memo that I DON'T LIKE TO VOMIT.

Rac Needs to Start a Blog
Do you know Rac? Some people like to call her Rachel but she'll always be Rac to me. She was my college roommate for 3 years and she's a gem. She's funny and clever and has a son who is ADORABLE (For those of you who have seen the picture of the baby with the big eyes and the lip either on my fridge or on my desk at my old job, you know what I'm talking about. Adorable times a million.) Anyway, I think it's about time she starts a blog. Her first post can be about the polygamists who live down the street from her.

No Fun Left in Baker
Having a thermometer in the car takes away the only real fun to be had while passing through Baker - guessing what the temperature will be on the World's Tallest Thermometer.

How to Survive the Drive to Utah
Anyone who has driven to Utah knows that it is very much like "2001: A Space Odyssey" - that is to say long and boring and it ends in a strange place. But, unlike 2001, I actually enjoy the drive. Mostly because I look at it as 8 hours of uninterrupted reading time. But for those of you who don't like to read or are actually doing the driving, here's my tip: make every place along the way a destination and celebrate when you get there. Like, "Wahoo! We made it to the Cajon Pass! On to Barstow!" And so forth. Make little things your celebration points, like Zzyzx Road or the wee little town of Scipio, UT. Reward yourself with M&Ms. This way, you'll feel like you've actually accomplished something and you'll have that sweet feeling of success the whole way there.

Family Names
It seems like at every reunion I learn that another one of my family members has decided to go by a different name then what they went by when I was a kid. Jess is now Wayne, Freddie is now Duane, Randy is now John. When is it my turn to choose a new name? I would like to be Cordelia.

Acceptable Albums to Listen To While Driving With My Dad
Anything by Lyle Lovett
The Best of James Taylor
Graceland by Paul Simon
The Seeger Sessions by Bruce Springsteen (Or, as I like to call it, The Boss's Hootenanny)