canada day? independence day?...

happy iPhone launch day!

um ya... i'm a dork.

going... up?

so... i can't help it... i have to talk about the elevators in my apartment building. this isn't one of those "i've run out of things to blog about" situations... these are definitely blog-worthy elevators.

so, i usually try to keep my "whereabouts" on the down-low online... 'cause frankly, people are creepy... but i will tell you this much: i live on the 14th floor of some building east of the mississippi (as easy as that is to spell out-loud... it just doesn't look right). my daily ritual consists of walking down the hall, arriving at these elevators, taking them down to the main floor, checking my mail-box, finding it empty (since no one has this address), and going back up. so me and the elevators have become well acquainted. HOWEVER...

whoever designed this building must have been on drugs... or was really eager to mess with people!

there are three elevators to choose from. elevator #1 goes up to the 16th floor where there is an outdoor pool on the roof (cool. except for it's about the size of my bathtub). that one also can be taken down to the parking garage. elevator #2 can also be taken to the parking garage, but not to the pool. and elevator #3 can only go as far down as the main floor (again, no pool access). so... as confusing as this is, it wouldn't be that bad if there was a specific up/down button for each elevator, right? of course you would be provided with an option such as this, if you were going to have such WACKY elevators, right? umm... well... no.

so... rather than dragging this on -- like my experience trying to get the right freaking elevator to come -- i'll just skip to the point. it's a guessing game. you don't get to choose. most of the time, my trip to the pool consists of pushing the "up" button, getting in elevator #3 on the 14th floor, going up to the 15th floor, getting off, pushing the "up" button again, NOW elevator #1 comes (because it has no choice... there's only one that can go up from this point), i get in... go up one more floor, and get out at the pool. going to the garage is a similar ordeal.

needless to say... i don't go out much.

don't drink and text... or something like that...

so, i will admit... i've sent text messages while driving. i know the idea of focusing on a few tiny buttons on a cell phone while driving down the freeway at 80 miles an hour sounds completely insane, but... i've done it. nonetheless, i think it's idiotic.

i was driving up i-15 in utah towards my in-laws last night, and noticed a car in front of me swerving in and out of the left-hand lane. in recent years, i've become a pretty paranoid driver -- not sure why exactly, but burton would be the first to tell you that i'm a FREAKY passenger to have in the car sometimes -- and so seeing cars swerving on the road makes me a little nervous. i'm never really sure what to do: pass them? stay behind them? call 9-1-1 (which they so kindly charge you a few dollars to do, fyi)? usually, i try to pass them from as far away as possible. so as i approached the car, i fully expected to see some strung out crazy man with a beer in one hand and the steering wheel loosely gripped with the other... however, what i actually saw was a 20-something year old female with her cell phone in one hand intently focused on her text messages and the other miserably failing to steer her death-trap down the freeway. HELLO PEOPLE?! this woman was LITERALLY swerving... almost hit the car right behind me who was also carefully trying to pass her. eventually she swerved over into the carpool lane (single occupancy vehicles in the carpool lane is a whole nother discussion that i could go off on) and she stayed there for as long as i could see her in my rear-view mirror.

so, that’s it… just venting about silly drivers… morale of the story is: if you’re going to text message while driving, at least do it well so no one knows. ;)

i know tim mcgraw is true...

(UPDATED: ok... so since last monday's FHE lesson was based on elder holland's talk about our tongues being "an unruly evil, full of deadly poison" AND someone who attended this meeting found this post -- although, they gave me a hearty "hear hear" -- i felt compelled to make some adjustments to this post and make my words less venomous...)

there is something inherently evil about making fun of people in church. and when i am tempted to, i suddenly find myself with my face cupped in my hands... a combination of trying not to laugh and praying "PLEEEEASE make these thoughts go away!? please please please make me a kinder, more compassionate person who recognizes the good in other people and doesn't find humor in their unfortunate inability to write a talk." but this sunday was father's day. and i LOVE father's day. i love my dad, and i love thinking of fun stories about my dad (i love mother's day equally for clarification... but this post is about father's day)... and generally speaking, i end up teary-eyed in church while someone talks about the blessings of fathers, etc etc. this father's day, i will admit, i still had a few of those moments... but it was slightly overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling i had to gouge my eyes out with a fork hug everyone around me.


now, at the risk of someone somewhere in the future finding this blog and recognizing that i'm talking about them or their daughter or their friend or whatever in the hope that everyone will find this and think i'm a really sweet person and always have nice things to say about people... umm, well... i'm still going to tell you this story.

four girls, returning home for the summer from various colleges, were asked to speak about father's day and talk a little bit about their experience at college (first mistake was allowing 20 year old girls this much flexibility in their speaking assignment... we're lucky we didn't hear about how bobby broke their heart... anyway... what a wonderful idea this was). they were each asked to speak for 8 minutes... i know this because each in turn mentioned that they had been asked to speak for 8 minutes right about the 12 or 13 minute mark and they were really good at trying hard to stay within those 8 minutes.

the first talked about byu and how byu was the best place for her, but not for everyone and how she had been raised to think byu was the only place she could go and how she never thought she would actually go, and spent just a little too much time talking about byu... and a little less time talking about... well, what do most people go to church to talk about again? ;) and i love byu, so it was great! ANYway... here's me typing away... knowing every letter i type is one letter closer to total condemnation bliss.

so... number two gets up. this is where the fork would have been handy for the eye gouging i really wanted to hug people. i'm going to skip the part where she talked about her dad... 'cause honestly, this is where i got a little misty... so i'll give her that much. but, let's go straight to the part where she held up her copy of the "Father of the Bride" DVD and quoted george banks (which she admitted to playing over and over again so she could be sure she got the quote "just right"... which was so thoughtful of her) as he talked about his little girl growing up, it was so sweet. and then let's skip to the part where she read THREE verses of a tim mcgraw song about a father losing his daughter as she grew up (i love tim mcgraw), but like she realized that like the song was like kind of hard to read 'cause like it's totally "country" and like says words like "ain't" and "ya'll" so she like decided at the last minute to like write it out in like normal words so she could totally like read it normal. AND i'm not exaggerating. AND i'm going STRAIGHT to hell for this one... BUT... it was like totally worth it. ;) which was a really good idea, and i appreciated it.

and the third speaker was actually really good and the fourth had to be postponed to next sunday... because when you're 20, apparently it's too difficult to look at the clock and realize you've been speaking for twice as long as you should have you're just so wonderful, and i love you.

and of course, the little primary kids singing "i'm so glad when daddy comes home" made me want to hug each and every one of them and thank them for being such angels. maybe i'll get bonus points for that one in heaven and it will all even itself out.

1 building, 2 fire trucks, 224 stairs

so.... about 10:30 PM last night, burton and i were getting ready for bed when we heard a faint siren -- seemingly in the distance. we sat there for a minute, trying to understand what it was saying. it would make two loud siren noises and then a loud voice was saying something almost indecernible. i opened the window in our apartment and determined it was saying, "may i have your attention please. may i have your attention please. there has been a fire reported inside the building. please make your way to the nearest exit. do NOT use the elevators." for a couple minutes we listened trying to figure out which building it could be talking about -- was it the marriott across the parking lot?... or maybe the metro station right across the street? it couldn't possibly be our building 'cause we could hardly hear it. and then slowly, we started seeing people exiting the building in their pajamas into the parking lot. so, we got dressed, grabbed a cell phone and my purse and made our way to the stairwell. we tried to push the door open, but it wouldn't budge. we kept pushing and FINALLY the door opened, but we were pushing against an intense airflow that made it seem like the door was locked (kind of scary actually, to think if people didn't think to push it harder they'd think they were stuck for sure). anyway, we got into the stairwell and suddenly the siren and the voice were intensely loud. it was definitely our building, but the only place you could hear the alarm clearly was in the stairwell. we made our way down the 224 stairs (i know that not because of the way down... but because of the way back up to the 14th floor the SECOND time the alarm went off... i'll get to that), but saw no one else in the stairwell. we got outside and saw about 25 to 30 people standing around in their pajamas, looking up at the building for some sign of a fire. nothing. don't get me wrong, no complaints about there not being a fire. thank goodness there was no fire, because out of over 200 apartments, there were only 25 to 30 people outside. no one could hear the alarm. nor were there any flashing lights or anything inside the main part of the building to indicate that there was an alarm going off in our building. however, people are so funny... because even once the two firetrucks arrived and it was clear that what we were hearing was in fact for our building, people still stood inside their apartments looking out the window at the commotion... 3, 6, even 10 and 14 floors up. the firemen came, defused the alarm and let us all back inside. we took the elevators back up and got back to our apartment. we started to get ready for bed again when we heard the alarm a second time. so... in this circumstance, what do you do? maybe there was no fire again and the alarm was just having issues... maybe they thought there was no fire the first time, but there really was. we're on the 14th floor, so the possibility of the later option was not something we were going to wait around to find out. back to the stairwell, back down 224 stairs, back outside... and nothing. less people outside this time, and only one firetruck. this time, they couldn't defuse the alarm even though there was no fire, so they silenced it while they tried to fix it and let us back inside. this time... no elevators. so... up the 28 flights of stairs we went. nothing like a good hardy work out right before you go to sleep. but, on another note... i got to go outside, which is something i haven't done in 4 days. :)

(oh... and that guy in the picture is "bruce"... i used to randomly make him the wallpaper on my male friends computer at work when he wasn't looking... just for fun and cause often he wouldn't discover it was there until he had someone else standing next to him looking at his computer with him. haha. anyway, thought i'd introduce you all to him as well.)

la police de paris

ok... so the first of the europe stories... at the request of Mrs. Dub who hasn't heard any. i guess i'll start with the paris police.

so, we flew in to london and then pretty much immediately took the chunnel to paris. we arrived in paris only to discover that all signs were in french... duh... but still sort of unnerving. i don't know what we were expecting really, but it was a little odd to suddenly realize we didn't know where we were going and couldn't read any of the signs to figure it out. lucky for me, i took 8 years of french in school (which was TOTALLY useless, since i remember nothing) and could decipher from what little i learned on milk cartons and cereal boxes in canada, that "billets de train" meant "train tickets". we spent a couple minutes in a long line to talk to someone who luckily spoke a tiny morsel of english and understood "idiot" sign language (WE were the idiots to clarify)... and we got our tickets for the paris metro. we took the metro to our stop, only to discover that we stopped a little early... but a good brisk walk in paris with all your luggage is good for you, right? so... we arrived at our hotel, really tired and really sweaty and praying that the person at the front desk would speak english. he did. we'll call him fred... so i don't have to refer to him as "the guy" throughout the story.

we handed fred our reservation. he took it, looked in a book... looked on a computer... made a couple phone calls (in french)... looked in another book... tried the computer again... and then said the word i had been dreading since we left utah: "problem". he said that they didn't have our reservation. we assured him that we had not only made a reservation (proven by the paper we handed him) but we had also paid for the reservation in full. he was very nice actually. said he would see what he could do. in the meantime, i used the hotels bathroom... as there are conveniently NO public bathrooms anywhere in paris. :) when i got back, burton told me that fred said he had a "no show" and had decided to give us a room with two twin beds for the night and would switch us in the morning. we agreed. we took our things to the room, and went out for the evening. on the way out, fred informed us that he had found our reservations and that they had mistakenly been sent by lastminute.com for the 26th rather than the 28th, but no worries... we were paid in full. no problem.

the next morning, we packed up our things and took them downstairs so they could be moved to our new room while we were out for the day. that day in paris is a whole nother story... i'll just sum it up by saying, we took the metro as far as we could, got off to get an extension, nothing was in english, no one there to help us, started raining, thunder and lightning... then a wall opened and a little man behind a window took our money and sent us on our way (it was such a weird 15 minutes)... got to chateau versailles, stood in the longest line i've seen in my life, got about 30 feet from the door and it started to sprinkle again, got 20 feet from the door and it started to rain, and 10 feet from the door the line completely stopped moving and we stood in the POURING rain and got drenched. POURING. DRENCHED. after what felt like a really long day, we arrived back at our hotel and we were met by the manager (we'll call him jerk-face, just for fun... cause he was).

so we approach jerk-face at the desk and ask him if we can get our new key. he tells us that there has been a mistake, that our reservations had actually been cancelled by lastminute.com. after a long day of standing in lines and avoiding the rain, this SUCKED! we were pleasant, but frustrated. until he said that the "no show" from the night before had arrived at the hotel 10 minutes after we took his room, and they spent the next few hours trying to locate him a hotel -- they found one, for 200 euro and sent him there in a taxi. which, if you were in the US, would not be your problem... but since we were in europe, where everything is your fault if you're american (or canadian, in my case), jerk-face expected us to pay for the "damages" we had caused. JERK FACE. so after a good 15 to 20 minutes of arguing that we would never have stayed in their hotel the night before if we had any idea that we would be paying 170 euro a night (i won't even bother explaining where that number came from) and that we were specifically assured that we had in fact paid for our room in full, we told him that we would be happy to pay the 66 euro we had anticipated paying for the room, but no more. jerk-face wouldn't budge, but he did so kindly offer us our room for the next two nights at 140 euro a night. so kind. so thoughtful. :P we decided to wait for fred to arrive (he was going to be there in 10 minutes) and then we would straighten it out with him, since he had informed us he found our reservation. fred was no help -- clearly he was in BIG trouble and protecting his own skin. anyway... long story already way too long... we decided to leave our things there and go find a new hotel. we walked up the street 3 blocks, found a best western for 85 euro a night, and said "we'll take it"... we walked back to our other hotel to get our luggage.

we walked in, and fred was sitting there. jerk-face was gone. we told him we had found a new hotel and we grabbed our luggage to leave. as we were leaving he said, "wait... you have to pay!" and we said, "you have our credit card. aren't you just going to charge it." and he said, "i can't... that's just for miscellaneous things like the phone." well, this created a whole new situation... burton said, "well, if you don't have our credit card, this is a completely different situation. there is no way i'm paying you 170 euro... i'm happy to pay you 66 euro though... but i won't pay the 170 euro." well... this caused fred to come completely unhinged. i don't loosely use the term "crazy frenchman"... but that he was. he started ranting and raving... swearing like crazy... "well, 'F' me then! 'F' me!!" (i didn't have the heart to tell him that not only was that completely uncalled for... but "oh i'm sorry... it's actually 'F' you"). and finally he says, "fine! fine! don't pay! see if i care! i'll just call the police and have them come find you! i have your ID, you can leave and they'll come find you. see if i care." so... not too excited about the idea of encountering the paris police on our second day in europe... we handed him our good ol' american express card. after which, he apologized for getting so upset, and we left.

(as a little plug for lastminute.com... although they completely screwed up by cancelling our hotel reservation in paris, they completely took care of all the extra expense. both the extra we paid at the first hotel and the extra it cost us to stay somewhere else. along with an apology for their mistake.)

so... that was our first two days in europe. needless to say, i was second guessing our decision to come at this point. but things got better... and yet... we were still in europe... so we dealt with many more scenarios almost just like that.

our vacuum sucks (haha)

so, we're subleasing an apartment in dc (well... virginia, but close enough). and it's actually a really nice place. we were looking for something fully furnished, so we wouldn't have to bring much with us for two months, so the place has everything: furniture, appliances, housewares, linens, vacuum, etc. last night, we decided we wanted to vacuum the rug, so we got out the vacuum and i started it up. it sounded fine, it was clearly "working"... but it wasn't picking anything up. now... burton has become an expert at fixing vacuums, because our vacuum at home, although new, is retarded (it's possible that my long hair strewn about is the culprit in that instance). anyway, so we messed around with it, taking hoses off and seeing if they were sucking, turning it upside down, putting my hand under the roller to see if it was sucking (don't do this when it's on... helpful hint). and finally burton noticed that the hose at the base of the vacuum was packed with dust (or something like dust). so, we got out the tweezers and started pulling. there is really no way to describe how tightly packed this dust was and the sheer volume of dust we removed. i took pictures, but even they don't do it justice. how in the world, this woman allowed her vacuum to get to that point, i haven't the floggiest. anyway, word to the wise... if it isn't sucking... or is sucking... or whatever... check it out.

humidity + bra = total insanity

ok seriously... what is my deal? why am i having such a hard time blogging? i'm kind of caught up in the joys of reading other people's blogs and just riding the gravy train of "commenting" at the moment, plus i have this looming feeling that i need to write posts about the trip i just spent half our life-savings on. i've started a few posts about the europe trip actually (they sit as drafts right now), but i've just told the stories too many times to get excited about posting them. so i'll wait a bit. bring them out at a later date when i can make them funny and interesting and not just some travel-log. but this doesn't really answer why i'm having a hard time blogging... i'm guessing it has something to do with the fact that i don't really leave my apartment now that i'm in dc and frankly, i'm feeling a little intimidated by the vastness of this city and my inability to get anywhere farther than the parking garage without my GPS navigation system. but it's a beautiful place. GORGEOUS as a matter of fact. besides my sudden disdain for bras (humidity + bra = total insanity!), i'm excited to be here for the summer.

ok... i'm going to stop there, post this and start a new one. i remember when i was in an english class in highschool our teacher suggested if we ever get writers block to just start writing "i don't know what to write. i don't know what to write. i don't know what to write..." until it came to us. haha. stupid advice. HOWEVER, i have found that a good cure for writers block is to just start writing whatever, and eventually something will come to mind and you can just go back and erase the nonsense... i, however, am choosing to post my nonsense for your enjoyment... or annoyance. whatever.

holy super lazy batman!

so life in general has been pretty much insane the last few months and i really haven't made my blog a priority. in summary: burton had finals. i had work. we had a trip to europe to plan. i had to fly to canada for a week to renew my passport so we could go to europe. we had to pack everything we own into WAY too many categories (items for europe, items for the three weeks at burton's parents before we leave for the summer, items for the summer in DC, everything else we need to move back down to provo when we get back... because packing didn't SUCK enough already!). then we had to move everything we own into a storage room and try to keep all the things we needed for the next few months from ending up at the bottom of a heap of boxes. a day or so later, we left for europe for two weeks. got back, moved into burton's parents and began repeatedly asking "shoot... where is this and where is that... have you seen this... any idea where that is?" LAME! moving... grrr. and three weeks and a 30-hour drive later... we're alive and well in washington, dc.

burton has his first day at work today. this is his second internship in dc and a great one to add to his resume. something about jason bourne and secret missions. :) jk. i'd love to tell you what he does... but then i'd have to kill you. :) kidding again. i would love to tell you what he will be doing... but we have no idea really. i'm hoping he'll come home today and i can give you a better idea... and THEN i'll have to kill you! :)

and well... as for me... sure, it's 8:44 AM in utah... but it's 10:44 AM in dc... and i'm still in bed. i hate this transition. time zones. making an early morning that much earlier. blah.