And the award for idiot of the year goes to…

Short story: I bought a plane ticket for Sunday, not Thursday, which would have meant missing my brother’s homecoming talk, which was half the point of coming home. Changing the ticket would have cost $600 (I only paid $500 for the original ticket), which was out of the question. So my solution was to buy a new ticket to Salt Lake and drive up with my grandparents.

Long story: So there I was at work, humming to myself because I was so excited to go home. I glanced down at my itinerary as I was putting it away and noticed that it said Sunday, May 27, not Thursday, May 24. Must be a mistake, I thought. So I log onto Travelocity. Nope, not a mistake (at least not theirs). I started panicking (short of breath, shaking, the whole nine yards... my coworker describes this really well). I could not wait until Sunday. So I call Delta, who tells me that it will be $600 to switch my flight. My dad had conveniently lost his cell phone and wasn’t answering his office phone. I had to hunt down my mom at school to break the bad news and try to come up with a better solution. She suggested calling Travelocity. They said it would be $650, plus their $80 fee. Ouch. I don’t have that kind of money, especially for a ticket that I already bought. In talking about this whole mess with the same coworker, she offhandedly said, “Well, you could always drive home like you did at Christmas.” That’s when the little light bulb went on. My grandparents would be driving to my house from Spanish Fork the next day. So I bought a last-minute (and still overpriced, but way cheaper than $600) one-way ticket to Salt Lake and spent the next day in a car. My grandpa even refrained from asking me if there are any nice young men in my ward, and they let me drive the last section. So I still made it home in time to hear him speak.

Moral: Always always always triple check travel arraingements. And then do it once more just for good measure.

I hate to say I told you so...

A few weeks ago, I was lying in bed trying to convince myself that I really did need to get up. There's a tree just outside my window, and the birds were having their own version of American Idol. I thought, Wouldn't it be fun to put up a birdfeeder? This thought, like many that early in the morning, soon passed.

About a week later, a coworker began telling me about all the cool birds she's seen at her feeder recently. Once again, I thought it would be fun to put up a birdfeeder. I walked back to my office and told the other editor my plan.

"Oh, you don't want to do that. You'll just be feeding the rats."

I explained that this would be up high, where the rats couldn't get to it. She just gave me this "Fine, don't listen to me" look and we moved on.

The next weekend I went out and bought a birdfeeder. I put it up under the eaves of my house, close to the tree so the cute little birds would feel protected. I figured it wouldn't be long before they were swarming to my window.

I was wrong. Several weeks went by, and the level of seeds didn't change. I could hear the birds in the tree, but never saw any at my feeder.

Saturday morning, there was a huge commotion outside my window. Something was rustling around in the dead leaves. I thought it was the cat we've seen in our garage a few times.

I was wrong again.


Needless to say, the birdfeeder is no longer outside my window.

*I would like to point out the two mice in the background of this photo. There was a whole extended family out there. It was absolutely disgusting.

Meglio Stasera, baby, go, go, go!

Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if you had made a different choice? This has been a recurring idea in my life the past few weeks, and I'm starting to wonder why. Ali and I were talking about it tonight. It also popped up when I listened to the new Michael Buble CD. For some reason, the second song took me back to a time in college when I liked two boys at once. Of course, I liked one of them more than the other, but he wasn't quite as agressive as the second one. I distinctly remember one night when our ward was having a dance. I elected to stay home, thinking that the first guy would stay home too, and I could take him cookies or something (I was very young :) ). But as it turned out, the first guy went to the dance, and the second guy came over instead. I beat him at Trivial Pursuit and we ended up cuddling on the couch. Now, I'm not saying I would have ended up with the first guy (I know for a fact that he wanted me to date his best friend (who lived in St. George...like that was gonna happen)). However, I really wonder if I would have dated the second guy if that night hadn't happened.
I do not regret my decision. I learned a lot from that relationship (specifically, a lot of what I don't want). I remember that summer as one of the best times of my life. But I also look back and think, "What were you thinking, self? He was a loser and you knew it!"
Now I'm sitting here at 1 a.m. trying to think of a noncorny way to end this post without it rambling on for another paragraph or two. I suppose this will have to do:
*Basically, I have been reminded several times in the past few weeks that small choices have big consequences. This weirds me out. That's all.

I'm back! I'm back!

You know that scene in Spiderman 2 when Peter Parker decides that he wants to be Spiderman again? So he takes a flying leap off a building, thinking his web is going to kick in and save him? And then he has to hobble away, groaing "My back! My back!"

That was me today, except it was a long run outside, not a building, and my knee, not my back. I'm still struggling with this small and steady business of getting back into running. Oh well. That's why they invented Aleve.


*for those of you concerned about my well being, I'm fine. My knee just gets a little sore when I try to run too far on it. I haven't actually had to take anything for it today.

Life is in the details

This past weekend, I ended up on a plane with an old friend. He and I knew each other at BYU, and we've run into each other a few times since then. My favorite part was that we even worked it so that we could sit next to each other--both there and back again. Good times were had by all.

Anywhos, this friend decided he was done with accounting (and I frankly don't blame him), so he's off to Harvard to dress from J. Crew and look important while taking business classes. Which means he's having a going away party, which I made him promise to invite me too. Sure enough, last night I got a text from him. Party, his house, 7 p.m. blah blah blah. I had to text back to get his address, which he readily supplied with a "See you soon!"

So I finish dinner and head out. After working my way past the street fair, I find a really good parking spot and walk up to the door. Odd, I think. The house looks strangely empty. I open the door and say, "Hey man, happening party."

"Well, it's on Friday."

Huh?

I dig out my phone and actually read the text message. Sure enough, it says Friday night, not tonight.

My friend, gentleman that he is, invited me in anyway and we had a grand time wandering the street fair (though we didn't see the possum that lives in the creepy store front) and watching American Idol.

Oops.

tryin' to find atlantis

I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a friend's wedding this weekend. Some have asked if this made me sad. I will admit that on a very, very shallow level, it's a little sad (how come she gets a husband and I don't?). But honestly, I'm so stinking happy for her. She's found a really great guy, and they are really good together (that's a lot of reallys). See?


If anything, her wedding has given me hope for mankind. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of songs about how all men are scum. Not one of them worth dating. I must admid that I often find myself on this side of the line. But do not be deceived. Really great guys do exist. And I know there's more than one.

For example, there was the guy sitting across the isle from me on the plane. His seatmate was an elderly woman who was making a connection to Portland. He flagged down the flight attendant and said, "This young lady needs to get to her plane to Portland. Do you know where she needs to go?" He then offered to carry her bags when we landed. I thought it was adorable (he wasn't bad looking either, but that's beside the point). The best part was the genuine care in his actions.

A few days later, I found another one. I was out with my friend Mike at Spiderman 3. We were walking back to the car (once I pointed him in the right direction). There was a man begging on the street corner. I did what I always do in those situations--my shoes suddenly became very facinating. Mike, not missing a beat of our conversation about how I can't really call myself a nerd because I've only seen the extended Return of the King once, pulls out his wallet and hands the guy a few dollars. And we just kept walking. I know he wasn't doing it to impress me, but I was impressed nonetheless.

So while "a girl tryin' to find a perfect man" may be a hopeless cause, there are plenty of not perfect guys who are well worth the search.