discussions while listening to cher

...or actually, as burton is changing the station because he HATES cher.

burton: "i hate synthesizers."

me: "that's not a synthesizer... is it?"

burton: "it's definitely a synthesizer. you think she just sings like that?"

me: "isn't a synthesizer like a keyboard or something?... i guess it is a synthesizer... 'synthesizer'. that's a weird word. it sounds like the name of a gun. 'you've been synthesized!'" [in my best tough-guy voice]

burton: "it should be a gun."

something about my birthday

me [as burton climbs into the car and hangs up his phone]: "who was that?"

burton: "my mom."

me: "what were you talking about?"

burton [with a smirk]: "nothing..."

me: "hey, remember? if you're talking about my birthday you say 'it's a secret'; if it's about church stuff you say 'it's confidential'; if it's about work stuff you say 'i'd tell you, but then i'd have to kill you..."

burton: "how about i make it easy and just say 'it's none of your business'..."

discussions leaving a wendy's drive-thru

me [as we're pulling on to the road]: ok, don't forget to take that new freeway exit.

burton [as he lovingly touches my face]: we have the same brain. i was just thinking the saaaame thing.

me [tilting my head in that affectionate way]: awwwwww.

burton: so you know what that means?... you don't have to tell me what to do. 'cause i'm already thinking it.

[and then i burst out laughing].

so, i like to repeat myself

burton: "bergen-op-zoom!" [random street name from my home town -- thanks to a very odd mayor who dressed like captain hook during parades... of course]

me: "how come you remember stuff like that, but not important stuff?"

[uncomfortable pause, during which i realize that's not really true... and maybe a little mean]

me [again]: "wait, you remember important stuff. but i mean, you remember my childhood memories, and you don't even remember your own."

burton: "because you tell me your childhood memories 600 times."

[doh]

bathroom analysis 101

so there's two bathrooms on the floor where i work now. the kind of bathrooms that accommodate one person at a time, with room for a wheelchair... or a small audience. probably the wheelchair though, 'cause there's also one of those handrails. which i assume is for getting in and out of the wheelchair and on to the toilet... or for leaning on if you get bored. if you wanted to. ANYway.

so each bathroom has a sign on the door. each is a cartoonized (that's a word... trust me, i work with artists. jk... i don't think that's a word) -- where was i? -- cartoonized bull. one is red and the other is blue. so here's the issue. and this issue is no reflection of the intelligence of my coworkers who put the signs there, as i can already attest to their talent and brilliance; but this is more a reflection of my insane ability to be paranoid. so the issue... red? and blue? does this mean girls and boys? i mean not to assume that all things female should be pink (a memo i would like to send to all makers of women's golf clubs), but red? burton wears red. and i, for the record, sometimes wear blue. these aren't really defining colors. unless, perhaps, one bathroom is intended for all BYU fans, and the other is for all Utah fans. but we're in DC... so... Or maybe they're going for gender neutral and i don't need to wait for the red bull bathroom to be vacant... i could use the blue bull bathroom. i mean, i've used a mens bathroom before anyway. i say if you need to go and there's a long line of women ('cause you know there's always a line) and the mens single-occupancy bathroom is available... it's fair game.

so anyway... i know they say there are no dumb questions... but "what does the red bull and the blue bull mean on the bathroom doors?" seems pretty dumb. so... red bull it is... unless there's a line, of course.

oh, but i'm not done yet... you thought i was done, huh?

in addition to the 'which bathroom do i use?' dilemma, i've also found that i have this weird inability to remember that i've dead-bolted myself in. i do my thing, wash my hands (as you should... ALWAYS... you people who just run your hands under the water for a second... i know you're out there! i've heard you!), dry them with the paper towels, check myself in the mirror (don't lie, you do it too), and hit the handle to leave. doh. i wish i could think of a sound effect for what a door sounds like when it's trying to be opened by someone who forgot that they dead-bolted it. so getting out of the bathroom has now become a conscious effort... wash hands, towel dry, check the mirror, hand nears the handle... wait... stop... dead-bolt. aaaand we're out.

ok, now i'm done.

yep, you're in traffic.

news flash heard on NPR this morning: traffic congestion in los angeles has been gradually improving over the last two years; unlike washington d.c., where traffic congestion has actually been getting worse.

awesome.

every morning i get up, get ready for work (today's get-up: flipflops, capri's and a care-bear t-shirt... of course), get in my car and wonder "so... let's see how long it's going to take me to get to work this morning." it can vary from 23 minutes to 90+ minutes. so depending on how things go and when i leave, i could be an hour early or an hour late. it's brilliant. i love it. :P not to mention the anomaly of leaving at 8:40 and arriving at work at 9:10, and so then leaving at 8:15 and STILL arriving at work at 9:10. what the... !? how?

and to top it off, NPR's traffic report = so lame, i want to punch my stereo. every morning. Art Andrews, the traffic guy, makes me crazy. this might as well be his traffic report:

"do you see cars in front of you? then you're in traffic. no cars in front of you? you're going to be just fine."

thanks Art. so helpful.

maybe it's just me, but it's not even the traffic that makes me crazy. it's the not knowing what's causing the traffic that drives me bonkers. come on Art! just tell me WHY?! at least tell me there was an accident so when i arrive to my meeting 20 minutes late i can say "well, there was an accident on 395 at Seminary Rd and so traffic was murder! sorry, i'm late." but no, instead i'm left standing at the doorway 20 minutes late to a meeting with nothing to say but "sorry i'm late... there was... more people on the freeway today..."

watch the "x"... it'll getcha

so i know i haven't blogged in two months, and THIS is what i'm choosing to come back to the table with... but i need to know if i'm the only one out there who does this at least 3 times a day, without fail.

so, there are two widely accepted ways to notify a person you're chatting online with that you'll be gone for a quick moment:

brb = be right back

just a sec = obvious

i tend to lean to the "just a sec" option because not EVERYone using instant messenger knows what "brb" means, and so if you use that one you risk not being able to dash away from your computer because "brb" may be quickly followed by "what's brb?" which requires an answer, or you're really just ditching them without an explanation. ANYway...

so, imagine, you're instant messaging with someone... perhaps it's your spouse, perhaps it's a long time friend, perhaps it's a coworker, maybe even your boss... possibly even your father... and you're mid-sentence and something comes up that you need to attend to for "just a sec"... but curse the creator of the keyboard who conveniently decided that the "c" and the "x" should be positioned next to each other, and under your palm where you can't really see and so you have to make a really precise estimate of location or you end up with "just gimme a sex". and while that may be funny to your spouse who happily replies, "i'll give you all the sex you want"... it's hard to imagine an appropriate response from your coworker or your boss... or your father.

literally, my friends... this ALMOST happens three times a day, at least. (most of the time i catch it... but holy awkward when i don't).

and then of course there's my failed attempts to type "... about it", but the "t" miraculously jumps to the "it" and we have another awkward IM moment on our hands. i'll let you put that one together yourself... i don't even want to know the search terms that will get people to this blog post as it is.

i should have been a bear

do you ever have times in your life when you just want to crawl in a hole and hibernate for awhile until things work out the way you want them to? i do. and it's not just cause i love sleeping. though... i do love sleeping.

i passed out today, how 'bout you?

literally... if i blogged everyday, this is what every entry would say: "worked today. didn't want to make dinner. still not pregnant." not that i'm saying that so you'll feel sorry for me that we're still not pregnant... i'd actually prefer sympathy for the fact that i never want to make dinner anymore... but i'm just saying, these are the three most consuming thoughts in my day pretty much everyday. except saturday, when i have to think about the food i have to buy for the dinners i don't want to make. ANYway, THIS is not the point of my blog post. i'm just explaining why i hardly ever blog anymore. and until i don't work anymore and can do fun things all day, or make some really awesome dinner i must share with the world... or have some really exciting news about the fruit of our loins... i have to wait for weird or interesting things to happen to me to feel excited about writing a new blog post. and lucky for all of you who have been sitting on the edge of your seat waiting for me to post again (... silence...) i went to the dentist today and passed out.

now, i normally don't make a habit of passing out in general, much less at the dentist... but today me and the anesthetic decided not to be friends. i went in 30 minutes early to get numbed up... another long story about how i have this weird overly high tolerance to anesthetic and so they have to give me lots of it (quote my oral surgeon: "i gave you enough anesthetic for a 250 lbs man!") and let it sink in for a long time. the dentist (GREAT dentist, by the way) came in and stuck the needle in my jaw... moved the needle around (i'm sure there's a reason they do this... but i really can't imagine pretty much anything more nauseating than sticking a needle anywhere and moving it around), and then he left to let me soak in the numbness. i had come prepared from the waiting room with a "people" magazine featuring britney's mom (of course), so i returned to my spot on the page and started to read, only to soon realize i felt incredibly nauseous... and the thought occurred to me, "i think i'm going to pass out". i've really only passed out a couple of times before... the most notable, being in the shower... and i hit my head on the faucet on the way down. so i haven't really chosen the most convenient places to pass out, but i knew the feeling. and so i put the magazine down, and i started to close my eyes, and the next thing i knew i was coming to, with my head hanging over the side of the dentist chair. :)

the dentist and his assistant walked in just as i was coming to and clearly realized there was a problem. i might not have much color in my face normally... but they were pretty concerned with my lack of untanned-pasty-hue. and i was pretty concerned with the fact that i had instantaneously sweat through my clothes. anyway, turns out that anesthesia in your blood stream = your heart starts to race, which can then = your body goes into emergency shut down mode. so with a cool cloth and the assistant holding my hand and glancing at the britney article on my lap, i regained my composure. and half-smiled. and then endured an hour or so of tooth drilling, temporary-crown fitting, rinsing and spitting. curse my crappy provo dentist and his crappy cracked filling.

total intimidation

so... i've been asked to sub for a primary class this sunday. they're 10. and for some reason, this fact kind of terrifies me. 10?! when was the last time i even spoke to a 10 year old? what do 10 year olds look like? hahaha. no seriously. how is it possible that i really have this huge social gap in my life? give me a bunch of toddlers. great. give me a bunch of old ladies. i can teach them... probably even make them laugh a bit. give me anyone over the age of 19 or under the age of 4, and i'm in my element. but 10? what do 10 year olds like? i think i still played with barbie's at 10... i'm pretty sure i was at the hitting boys because i liked them phase. what's funny to a 10 year old? oh! it just struck me that they're in 5th grade. i've seen "are you smarter than a 5th grader"... but are 10 year olds really like that? i suddenly just had flashbacks of grade 5... 10 year olds are mean. are they still mean? or was that just an 80s thing?

ok... help me. somebody has to know something about 10 year olds. do they bite? :)

untimely sneezing

i personally feel there's really almost nothing better than a good sneeze. and i'm pretty certain i'm not alone in this. i have often found myself feeling sorry for the tiny sneezers... the ones who hold it all in and just squeak their sneezes out. if they only knew they were missing out on one of the pure joys in life! perhaps it's because i grew up in a home with an extremely loud sneezer for a father. extremely loud = extreme understatement.

in fact, one time (random side story)... my family had come down to utah for education week at byu, and my friend, melissa, and i had just spent the day out and about, while my parents attended some classes. for some strange reason, we thought it totally possible to just FIND my parents on byu campus. we assumed they were attending a class at the marriott center, but that was just a guess. while walking around the hallway outside the actual arena, we could hear the class being broadcast over the loud speaker. all of a sudden, we heard this obnoxiously loud sneeze echo over the loud speaker. i turned to melissa and said "that was my dad!" she laughed. but i was certain. after the class got out, we somehow tracked my parents down and sure enough, it had been him. thousands of people in that arena, but i'd know my dad's sneeze anywhere. he said that when he sneezed every person within 50 feet of him turned and looked at him. atta boy! :)

so... back to my love of sneezing. so yesterday, burton and i were driving home from boxmart--where we've spent more money than i ever thought a person could spend on cardboard--and i sneezed twice. and while i love sneezing, i've found it's really kind of scary to sneeze while driving. because it means that for more than a split second blink your eyes are closed, and your arms and legs are a little uncontrollable, and it's just not ideal driving conditions. so i commented to burton "i hate sneezing while driving. it's just kinda scary." and burton said "i hate sneezing while peeing." .... and i'll give you a second ....

and then i couldn't stop laughing.

for the love of a hot dog

today, while standing in line at j-dawg's for lunch, i turned to burton and said "i should blog about this" ... i haven't blogged for THREE WEEKS... and THIS is the first idea that has come to my mind? j-dawg's? but what made me think it was blogworthy was burton's utter and total frustration with the situation. first of all, i must state that a j-dawg's polish dog is basically... well... amazing. but their set up could make the most patient person go a little crazy. see... there's two lines. the "order here" line... and then the "pick up here" line. the problem is, both of them are usually painstakingly long. so after about 15 minutes in the first line, we ordered our 2 polish dawgs and 2 sodas, and then had to move to the other line to wait for another 15 minutes to pick up the dawgs... at which point burton exclaimed "i can't believe we're going to wait 30 minutes for a HOT DOG!" (but babe... this isn't just ANY hot dog... you know better than that). though, it was cold and it did start to rain. but for some reason, there we all stood. construction workers, college students, and business men alike. all there for the mouthwatering "special sauce". so anyway, i'm not sure if this is turning out to be a positive or negative review... but whatever the case, trust me that standing in the freezing cold rain for 30 minutes outside this silly little hut is totally worth it.

tip: don't get your drink between lines... cup full of ice cold diet pepsi = cold hands.

separation anxiety

so long, farwell, auf wiedersehen, good bye...

decades of deliberation have come to this

we've all been asked this silly question... if you found a genie in a lamp and you could have three wishes, what would they be? (and of course the third one can't be more wishes... but we all wish it could be, don't we?) so, after much deliberation throughout my life, i think i've narrowed it down to three solid answers:

1. i never want to have to stop at a red light or stop sign or even yield to merging traffic ever again. i want all lights to be green when i get there, all stop signs to be for other people, all cars to yield to me. i want to be able to walk out the door, get in my car, turn it on and go. and not have to stop or slow down until i get where i'm going. the eternal green light.

2. i want a soundtrack for my life. i have always wanted that... perfect music to play at the perfect moment. and not just on my ipod... i mean a REAL soundtrack. like hugh grant wandering the streets of london after having his heart torn to pieces while hearing bill withers sing "ain't no sunshine when she's gone", or hearing wreckless eric take over singing "whole wide world" for will ferrell as maggie gyllenhaal suddenly kisses him on the couch. music just makes everything better. it makes the moment more moving, more passionate, more intense... so ya, i want a soundtrack.

3. i want that perfect pair of jeans to last forever. and my favorite shirts to never fall apart. and my favorite sweaters need to not do that weird fluff ball thing or stretch into weird shapes or shrink to the size of a babyGAP sweater... they need to stay looking exactly the way they did in the store. oh... and my favorite clothes need to always fit... no matter how much what i'm trying to stuff in them may have increased in size (is that kind of like sneaking in a 4th wish?)

so... if you found a genie in a lamp and you could have three wishes, what would they be? and no wishing for more wishes... geez.

1994... i was 15 years old

last night, i spent a couple hours reading through some of my old journals (how it's possible that i don't have time to get ready in the morning, but i find a few hours to do random stupid stuff like this, i have no idea). i picked up 1994.

what i learned about 1994 is that in 1994 i was a total BRAT! somehow, at 15 i'd convinced myself that i was totally normal... that i wasn't a brat, but that at some level i'd been jipped. all my friends were turning 16 before me. they were all dating before me, driving before me... and i was entitled to the same. if they got to jump off a bridge, so should i, dang it!!

i cannot tell you how embarrasing it was to read "my parents are so dumb" ... "my mom is being so lame" ... "i'm so annoyed with my dad. he's being totally unfair" on every other page. all i wanted to do was talk on the phone... that's it. talk on the phone. for hours. every page was filled with "i *heart* so-and-so... and so-and-so... and so-and-so". and what really surprised me is how often i said church was dumb. "went to church today... it was dumb"... occasionally i'd have these really great experiences with church and that seemed to keep me going, but so weird... no idea how i managed to stay so committed to it all amid phrases like "church is dumb".

seriously... i can't believe how "15" i was. same person... completely different brain. and vocabulary. i'm too embarrased to even admit the words i used to describe people i didn't like or was mad at. and my thought process was insane. "so-and-so said he might have to go to jail... i really hope he doesn't. that would be so lame." hahaha... ya, lame. that's the word. or how about "so-and-so hung up on me. he's such a jerk. i so hope he likes me." no shame. are all 15 year old girls this crazy!? maybe teenagers in general?

so anyway...

to my parents: i'm sorry i said you were dumb and unfair (even if it was just in my journal).
to my church leaders: i'm sorry i was such a brat.
to my teachers: i'm sorry i said i was going to the bathroom and then went to the library to talk to boys for 25 minutes, and then came back and lied and told you i just wasn't feeling well (and i'm sorry i was such a good liar that you believed me).
to my girlfriends: i'm sorry i liked all the same boys you did.
to my boyfriends: i'm sorry i liked so many of you all at once.
to my husband: i'm sorry i was so weird. thank goodness you didn't meet me half my life ago.
to my future children: hopefully this will make me more understanding when you're a crazy teenager and you think i'm dumb and all you want to do is talk on the phone.

ah... journals. and pink pens. why the crap did i use pink pens?!

oh to be in greece again...

so... it's been about 8 months since burton and i went to europe. and it's been about 2 years since we got our video camera. and it's been about 4 days since i received a firewire cable for my birthday so i could finally download video from our camera. and so this is it... my first real video post.

i chose this segment of video from our trip (sorry there's no ACTUAL pictures of greece) because i have to comment on how weird it is to see yourself and hear yourself in videos. we've all done it. we remember hearing ourselves on the answering machine for the first time and thinking "is that really me? is that really what i sound like?!" and this (above) is one of the first videos i've seen of myself as an adult just telling a story. so... that's me, huh? that's really the facial expressions and hand gesters i make? who knew my eyebrows were so animated? and note to self: don't pull out the video camera with no make-up on.

but seriously... aren't burton and i funny? haha. and it's said "Ah-Gee-Nah"... don't ask me what i was smoking...

p.s. i need a mac. "windows movie maker" is stupid.

(UPDATE: i decided to add pictures of the things mentioned in the video, since "windows movie maker" sucks and i can't figure out how to add them to the movie... if that's even an option with this stupid program)

ferry to aegina island.

place where we ate lunch at the bottom of the island.

out of gas. and lost.

burton in the mediterranean sea. (clothes on)

please pull forward

it recently occured to me that i've never shared this odd little tid-bit about myself on my blog. which is strange, considering all the odd things i HAVE shared about myself on my blog. in any case... i'm cursed. not like some witch cast a spell and i'm cursed... but it's still a curse, nonetheless.

the discovery of my curse was a gradual thing. at first, it started with sheer frustration over my situation. then other people started noticing... and then overtime it just became blatantly obvious... i simply cannot use the drive-thru without a problem with my order.

now, i will admit... i am a tad bit picky. no... precise. ya, precise. i like things a certain way. but not in some crazy, extra pickles, no mayo, tomato on the side, baked potato instead of fries, toast the bun a little, kind of way. just in the no mayo please, kind of way. that's it. in 90% of drive thru circumstances... that's all i ask. however...

it's always wrong. something... is always wrong.

there will always be mayo on the burger when i clearly asked for none, normal fries instead of curly fries, no mayo AND no ketchup instead of just no mayo, the wrong beverage, no pickle because the person next to me asked for no pickle, baja sauce instead of NO baja sauce, fried rice instead of white rice... you get it.

so i've tried different techniques. i've tried speaking slowly. i've tried offering the information before being asked. i've tried only answering the questions i'm asked. i've tried having them read my order back to me. i've tried keeping it simple and not asking for anything out of the ordinary at all (though really... is no mayo really that out of the ordinary!?). i've even tried having OTHER PEOPLE order for me. and still... problems.

it wasn't until i found that even when coworkers took my order, wrote it down, left me at the office, arrived at the drive thru, placed my order right along with theirs, and delivered my meal back to me,... i knew for certain i was really and truly cursed. their order would be perfectly perfect. and mine would be wrong.

so that's it. i'm right up there with male models who can't turn left. i can't do the drive thru.

one more...

so, i have one more thing to be thankful for...


ummm... flat irons!

and yes, that is me taking myself way too seriously. and please disregard the wrinkles on my forehead... i'm pretending they're not there, so you can too!

a padded room sounds quiet

i really really REALLY want to be the kind of person who doesn't get easily irritated by things. but alas... i am not. as i type this, i am already in kind of a grumpy mood (work... the sucky stock market... work... not being out of town still... work... did i mention the sucky stock market?), so it's making the irritation meter a lot more sensitive than it might be otherwise. BUT... there are about 6 things happening to me simultaneously right now that are making me want to scream (again... because, yes... i have literally already thrown my laptop and slammed a door whilst kind of screaming... but more like grunting):

the elderly couple upstairs (bless their sweet hearts... i really do like them) have their grandkids over... and as much as i love kids... CAN THEY PLEASE STOP RUNNING!!!?!?!? it literally sounds like they're running in circles... stomping their feet as they go. and then stopping to wrestle every 45 seconds.

each time they stomp, the window next to me rattles. loudly. constantly.

someone upstairs is playing the piano. and if they were my child, i might be proud... but they're not... so the feeling is something more akin to hate.

burton doesn't have homework right now, so he's playing a game on his laptop... and each time he does something right, there's a little tinkerbell noise that plays through his headphones... i can still hear it. i love him... but the game needs to beat it.

there's at least 4 or 5 other noises i'm hearing right now that are driving me batty. and i have a headache. but... all things considered, i'm still overreacting. is this the part where they try to convince me that a nice white room with padded walls will ease my mind and calm me down? oh, and this jacket with arms that tie around the back is just to help me relax.

oblivious

so... i realized today (actually, i've realized this before today, but it was refreshed in my mind today) that there are a lot of people out there... most people, it sometimes seems... who are completely oblivious to the weird and annoying things about them. for example:

people who interrupt
people who brag
people who have to be right ALL the time
people who have to be in charge
people who say "ummm" every other word
people who say "you know" before and/or after every sentence
people who awkwardly laugh at the wrong moments or for no reason
people who repeat themselves
people who repeat themselves
people who invite themselves to things
people who lie about little things all the time
people who talk too much
people who talk too little
people who are picky
people who complain about everything

you get my point. and even though, about 80% of the list above describes me (... ok... 90%), and i know that... i have to wonder... what annoying things about me do i not know?

and so i ask you first... what annoying things about you are you fully aware of, but can't seem to kick?

and then i hesitantly ask you (if you feel so inclined to answer)... what annoying things about me do you think i'm completely oblivious to... and you wish i wasn't? :) be nice. but seriously... i can't take the thought of being one of those people who hasn't got a clue.

i'm going to regret this huh? :)