I went to see The Dark Knight on Saturday (a week after the rest of the world, I know). Because everyone and their dog had already seen it, I had very little response to my "Anyone want to see this movie today?" text. I resolved that I would see it by myself if need be, because I really didn't want more of the movie spoiled. However, one brave soul said he'd see it again, so off we went. After 45 minutes of movie, he leaned over and said, "I'll be right back." Another 30 minutes later, I began to wonder because he still wasn't back. I mean, I didn't smell or anything. During a lull in the action (not an easy thing to find in that movie), I sent a "You ok?" text, but got no answer. However, I drove, so I knew he couldn't have gone too far. So I sat and finished the show. As soon as the lights came on, he came running up from the front of the theater saying he hadn't been able to find me in the dark and had ended up in front of me instead.
And that's how, despite my best efforts, I ended up watching The Dark Knight by myself.
7.19.2008
And this little weirdo would be a modestly hot girl
So earlier this week my relatively new external hard drive decided to stop working. I did everything I knew of to fix it...which consisted of turning it off and back on in the hopes that it was all just some misunderstanding. It wasn't. I asked my brother for help, but he had a crazy week and didn't have time. Besides, long distance tech support rarely works for these sorts of things. I ended up getting help from the IT guy at work, but I realized something: I don't have any computer geek friends anymore.
I wasn't always like this. No, I once had lots of computer geek friends. How, you may ask? Simple: I advertised.
It started in the summer of 2003. My first boyfriend and I had just broken up, and I discovered that I didn't know any guys in my ward anymore. Inspired by stories from my roommate of the benefits of a group of guys to hang out with, I decided I wanted guy friends. One Sunday afternoon, in a rather silly mood, I put a sign on our front door. "Wanted: Guys apartment to be male companions for 4 beautiful women. Must be willing to hang out, swap an occasional Sunday dinner, and listen to our problems when needed. Experience preferred, but willing to train. Please bring a resume to Apartment 108 or call 371-6658."
I figured we might get a few comments, but nothing more. Instead, I got a resume. So I wrote up an acceptance letter, and Apartment 108, Inc. was born. For the next round of resumes, we required samples of their baking skills. The new recruits were accepted based on the excellence of their cheesecake.
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. That summer, we hiked Timp at midnight. We played frisbee. We ate a lot of popsicles and chocolate ice cream. We logged more hours playing Scum than working. And we didn't stop once school started. That year I became a 5th roommate (you know you have achieved this status when you start receiving phone calls at their apartment). I even met my next boyfriend through hanging out with them. They were some of the best guys I have ever known.
Alas, the youthful days when I would do something as crazy as putting a sign on my front door advertising for guy friends are past. Though if anything technical breaks again, I may be tempted to try again. 'Cause after all, a girl can always use a friend.
I wasn't always like this. No, I once had lots of computer geek friends. How, you may ask? Simple: I advertised.
It started in the summer of 2003. My first boyfriend and I had just broken up, and I discovered that I didn't know any guys in my ward anymore. Inspired by stories from my roommate of the benefits of a group of guys to hang out with, I decided I wanted guy friends. One Sunday afternoon, in a rather silly mood, I put a sign on our front door. "Wanted: Guys apartment to be male companions for 4 beautiful women. Must be willing to hang out, swap an occasional Sunday dinner, and listen to our problems when needed. Experience preferred, but willing to train. Please bring a resume to Apartment 108 or call 371-6658."
I figured we might get a few comments, but nothing more. Instead, I got a resume. So I wrote up an acceptance letter, and Apartment 108, Inc. was born. For the next round of resumes, we required samples of their baking skills. The new recruits were accepted based on the excellence of their cheesecake.
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. That summer, we hiked Timp at midnight. We played frisbee. We ate a lot of popsicles and chocolate ice cream. We logged more hours playing Scum than working. And we didn't stop once school started. That year I became a 5th roommate (you know you have achieved this status when you start receiving phone calls at their apartment). I even met my next boyfriend through hanging out with them. They were some of the best guys I have ever known.
Alas, the youthful days when I would do something as crazy as putting a sign on my front door advertising for guy friends are past. Though if anything technical breaks again, I may be tempted to try again. 'Cause after all, a girl can always use a friend.
7.09.2008
I Got a Peaceful, Easy Feeling
...and I know you won't let me down.
I was out running last night (don't be impressed; it was the first time in about a month), and all of a sudden I was singing this song. And it was true. I don't know what it was about yesterday, but I was in a fantastic mood. Life was good. And it all crystallized after a half mile. I just felt like everything was going to turn out. The run, this morning, my life. Everything. It was so cool.
And I don't have much of a point beyond that. I love life, life loves me.
I was out running last night (don't be impressed; it was the first time in about a month), and all of a sudden I was singing this song. And it was true. I don't know what it was about yesterday, but I was in a fantastic mood. Life was good. And it all crystallized after a half mile. I just felt like everything was going to turn out. The run, this morning, my life. Everything. It was so cool.
And I don't have much of a point beyond that. I love life, life loves me.
7.02.2008
I'm such a girl sometimes
You know how they say bad things come in threes? Number two was pretty good...
So I'm driving on the freeway Monday night after picking a friend up at the airport. The car kinda starts to wobble, but I thought it was just the road we were on. I slow down, but that didn't help much. My friend asked if I could smell something burning and suggested the brakes, which it wasn't. After another minute, I decided something was wrong, but still no idea what it was. So I thought I'd just check it out once I got to my friend's house. Which was my plan...
...until I looked in the rearview mirror and saw smoke and a disturbing orange-ish glow.
So yeah, I pulled over. Better late than never, right?
I called AAA, they came out and put the donut on, and I continued on my merry way. Slowly. Two days later, a brand-new tire is on (that I didn't have to pay for because the first was still under warranty), and life is back to normal. Well, as normal as my life ever gets.
I just hope number three comes quickly so I can get it over with.
So I'm driving on the freeway Monday night after picking a friend up at the airport. The car kinda starts to wobble, but I thought it was just the road we were on. I slow down, but that didn't help much. My friend asked if I could smell something burning and suggested the brakes, which it wasn't. After another minute, I decided something was wrong, but still no idea what it was. So I thought I'd just check it out once I got to my friend's house. Which was my plan...
...until I looked in the rearview mirror and saw smoke and a disturbing orange-ish glow.
So yeah, I pulled over. Better late than never, right?
I called AAA, they came out and put the donut on, and I continued on my merry way. Slowly. Two days later, a brand-new tire is on (that I didn't have to pay for because the first was still under warranty), and life is back to normal. Well, as normal as my life ever gets.
I just hope number three comes quickly so I can get it over with.
6.25.2008
and the waiting is the hardest part
So tonight at the library (yes, I was there again), I realized I have no patience. None. Ever since I got my new camera, I have been trying to learn everything I can about photography. Today, I was returning two photography books and ended up with three more. It was almost four, but I restrained myself. Learning is obviously a good thing, but I want to know it all now. I want to be able to just turn my camera on and take pictures like this or this or this or...
...all the while discounting the years and years of study and practice and hard work that went into those photographs.
And so tonight I am practicing patience as I take a million pictures of sunflowers and my purse and other random objects. And maybe, just maybe...someday they will amount to something.
...all the while discounting the years and years of study and practice and hard work that went into those photographs.
And so tonight I am practicing patience as I take a million pictures of sunflowers and my purse and other random objects. And maybe, just maybe...someday they will amount to something.
6.15.2008
Madam libraaaaarian
I've been thinking recently on my love affair with libraries. This love can't really be explained. There's just something about seeing all of those books lined up that makes me want to read them all. Even the boring ones. When I worked as a custodian, the library took me the longest to vacuum because I would get distracted by all the books. The first time I saw Groundhog Day, I felt that if I got stuck in one day forever like that, I would spend it at the library reading. I love libraries. There is something magical in the READ posters and tall shelves that go on forever and the smell of books. This magic can be found in some degree at bookstores, but it's a shallower, flashier magic. Bookstores have their place, but libraries are my true love.
I can remember the basic layout of our library in Idaho. I would wander into the "big kids" section and get books like Mrs. Pigglewiggle and Ramona Quimby, Age 8. I thought I was ridiculously cool.
Our library in Wyoming was even better. The kid's section had neon lights and a fort you could climb up to read in. Of course, by the time they had that all done, I had outgrown the kid's section and was reading mostly from the adult and young adult books. I read the Redwall books and The Hero and the Crown and everything by Mary Stewart. I loved library days, especially in the summer. I would always come out with an armfull of books (seriously...sometimes I couldn't hold them all). But they had to last me for the next three weeks, when everything was due and the cycle would start again. The hard part was trying to figure out what to read first. I had a system--save the series for last, because if I didn't have the next book, three weeks was too long to wait to get it.
Then came the dark ages known as "freshman year." All of a sudden I had to actually study. Even worse, the library became a place only for study. Yes, there were millions of books in it, but they all dealt with boring, nonfiction topics. But at the end of my sophomore year, a miracle happened: my boyfriend took me to the Provo library. The relationship with the boy didn't work out, but the library and I remained on very friendly terms. I read The Killer Angels and The Bourne Identity and more science fiction than you can shake a stick at. Most of all, I loved the building itself and the history it represented.
And now I have a new library to love, just down the street. When I'm feeling particularly adventurous, I drive over to the main branch. I still wander into the big kids section because I love young adult books. I've moved on from science fiction, but I still love mysteries. And I still come out with an armfull of books.
I can remember the basic layout of our library in Idaho. I would wander into the "big kids" section and get books like Mrs. Pigglewiggle and Ramona Quimby, Age 8. I thought I was ridiculously cool.
Our library in Wyoming was even better. The kid's section had neon lights and a fort you could climb up to read in. Of course, by the time they had that all done, I had outgrown the kid's section and was reading mostly from the adult and young adult books. I read the Redwall books and The Hero and the Crown and everything by Mary Stewart. I loved library days, especially in the summer. I would always come out with an armfull of books (seriously...sometimes I couldn't hold them all). But they had to last me for the next three weeks, when everything was due and the cycle would start again. The hard part was trying to figure out what to read first. I had a system--save the series for last, because if I didn't have the next book, three weeks was too long to wait to get it.
Then came the dark ages known as "freshman year." All of a sudden I had to actually study. Even worse, the library became a place only for study. Yes, there were millions of books in it, but they all dealt with boring, nonfiction topics. But at the end of my sophomore year, a miracle happened: my boyfriend took me to the Provo library. The relationship with the boy didn't work out, but the library and I remained on very friendly terms. I read The Killer Angels and The Bourne Identity and more science fiction than you can shake a stick at. Most of all, I loved the building itself and the history it represented.
And now I have a new library to love, just down the street. When I'm feeling particularly adventurous, I drive over to the main branch. I still wander into the big kids section because I love young adult books. I've moved on from science fiction, but I still love mysteries. And I still come out with an armfull of books.
6.08.2008
Only in Newport Beach...
...can you walk out of a movie and feel underdressed. Last week some friends and I went to see Indiana Jones. We walked out to a sea of women dressed to the nines. Heels, designer labels, and looooooooooong legs were everywhere. It took us about 15 seconds to make the connection that Sex and the City was opening that night. We just felt sorry for the one poor man who appeared to be there with his wife.
...can you see a string of Porsches and not question it until the 10th one or so. Apparently Huntington Beach had some sort of Porsche convention going last weekend. It's just funny to me that my first thought was "Hmm...that's a lot of Porsches" rather than "Hey look! A Porsche!" I ain't in Wyoming anymore.
...can you see a string of Porsches and not question it until the 10th one or so. Apparently Huntington Beach had some sort of Porsche convention going last weekend. It's just funny to me that my first thought was "Hmm...that's a lot of Porsches" rather than "Hey look! A Porsche!" I ain't in Wyoming anymore.
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