Conclusions

Because I enjoy popsicles, I may also enjoy snowcones. (logical and true)
Because I enjoyed Felicity, I may also enjoy Gossip Girl. (logical and true)
Because I enjoy chocolate cake, I may also enjoy chocolate ice cream.  (logical but not true)

There are certain conclusions you can draw about people based on their known likes and dislikes.  Netflix does this.  Based on my movie preferences, they (Netflix) told me the following:

Because I enjoyed Pretty Woman, I may also enjoy The Little Mermaid.

Huh?  Because I enjoyed a movie about an unconventional prosititute, I will also enjoy an animated movie about a mermaid who defies her father because she is in love with a human prince. 

Completely illogical.
But true. 
It's like Netflix can see directly into my soul.

Symphony, Spektor, and Stilletos

This morning, I had a plan.  Today was the day I was going to break in my new shoes.  They are beautiful.  I watched them online for a couple of months, and I finally purchased about three weeks ago.  I have been admiring them for all this time, but I hadn't worn them yet.  But today, all that changed. 

See, the problem is, they are kind of tall.  I wasn't sure I could last a whole day, so Friday was perfect.  The only significant walking I have to do on Friday is from my parking spot to my office, which is about a block.  I usually don't go to lunch on Fridays, so it was the perfect day to test them out before wearing them to any kind of significant event.  I am going to Wicked tomorrow night in Denver, and if today went well, the shoes were going to be rewarded with a trip to the show. 

Great plan, right?  Well, at around 3:00, I got a text asking if I wanted to go to the symphony tonight.  Fun!  I had to leave early from work, so I could run down to Provo and make it back in time for the symphony tonight, so I didn't have time to go change my clothes/shoes after work.  I would still have time after I got home, and regardless, I was wearing the perfect shoes to go to the symphony.  You have to admit, they are pretty classy.

On the way home from Provo, I ran into some serious traffic, so by the time I got home, I was already late leaving for the Symphony.  By the time we got there, the $16 tickets that we wanted were already sold out, and the next price was $37.  One of our friends didn't want to spend that much, so instead we decided to go see Regina Spektor at In The Venue.

Have any of you been to In The Venue?  Parking is not convenient, and it's not exactly the kind of place with a lot of seating.  We parked a few blocks away, paid for our tickets, which ironically enough were $37, and then fought our way through the crowds to find a good place to stand.  Yes, stand.  For two hours.  Regina Spektor was really good, and everyone around me wanted her to sing a few more songs, but honestly, my feet just couldn't take any more. 

A few blocks to the car, and my feet were pretty much done.  I love shoes.  I am willing to wear five inch heels for a good portion of the day purely for my love of shoes.  In my perfect plan this morning, my shoes' day ended at 4:30 this afternoon.  The way things actually worked out, my shoes stayed out about seven hours later than their curfew.  Don't worry, there is an appropriate punishment.  As a result they will no longer be attending Wicked tomorrow night.  I still love them, but my feet are very happy in their current state.

Donovan is going down!

I could see his green shirt out of the corner of my eye. I had been running for about a mile, and he was still right next to me. I learned quite a bit about him during the second mile. His name is Donovan. His mom and grandma were both running, but were a little bit behind us. He has tons of friends, and I think half the town of Santa Clara was cheering for him along the course.

It was just past mile two that Donovan started to pull ahead of me. I was no longer looking at his shirt from my peripheral vision, but my eyes were looking straight ahead at the green shirt running away from me.

It was at this moment that I made the decision. Donovan was going down. I wasn't going to run with him for two miles just to have him leave me in the final stretch. A little sabotage was in order, and luckily I had Otter Pops on my side.

Instead of handing out water, the race volunteers were handing out Otter Pops. I don't think Donovan knew that he could just take an Otter Pop, so I yelled ahead and told him. "Hey Donovan, are you really going to pass up an Otter Pop?" Well, he turned around to get one, and I just cruised right by. Ha ha Donovan, you fell for my little trick, and now I'm going to win.

I was able to stay a little ahead of him, but I could hear that he was gaining on me when I heard some Donovan fans shouting his name fairly close to me. I really had to focus, but I saw the finish line ahead, and I made it through just two people ahead of Donovan. Hooray!!!

He was a worthy opponent, and he put up a valiant fight. He did win one of the raffle prizes at the end of the race. But his three foot, ten year old frame was just no match for my pure athleticism. Sorry dude. You know what they say- another year, another foot taller, so better luck next year.

Smoke much?

It was probably about a year ago that my mom was with a group of her friends in Panguitch, UT at some sort of quilting retreat. The women made a quick stop at a gas station to fill the car up with gas, buy a snack or a drink, or whatever they decided they needed. My mom had the following, very unexpected conversation with the gas station employee...

Gas station employee (GSE): Is that everything? (As my mom puts her items on the counter)
My mom (MM): Yes. Oh, wait. Do you sell chewing tobacco?
GSE: Yes
MM: How much is it?
GSE: The cheapest is $5.00 (I don't actually know that he said $5.00, and I honestly don't really know how much chewing tobacco costs.)
MM: Okay, I'll take one.

As this was going on, my mom's friend was standing behind her, waiting to make her purchase. This was the first she had heard of my mom picking up a new "chewing" habit. Her eyes got wide, and when my mom realized there was an observer of the situation, she couldn't go through with her purchase. She realized how crazy she sounded, and she and her friend started laughing uncontrollably. Needless to say, she left the store without her "chew".

A couple of days ago, I stopped at my neighbor Maren's house. As I was walking in, our neighbor walked out of his apartment to go smoke on the stairs. When I walked into Maren's, my opening remark was "I'm so glad I don't smoke in the summer. It would be so awful to have to sit out in the heat and smoke. I think it would be worse to smoke in the summer than in the winter." Maren's mom was staying with her and was in the room as I made this comment.

I later learned that this comment made me a smoker. I'm just the kind of smoker who doesn't smoke in the summer. From everything I know about smokers, being one myself, this is a very common way to smoke-I call it seasonal smoking. Totally makes sense. I think I might just chew Nicorette gum in the summer, you know, to avoid the heat.

Okay, so my mom doesn't chew tobacco. She never has, and I'm pretty much 100% sure she never will. I think she heard that you could mix chewing tobacco with some other household ingredients to get rid of slugs or spiders or some other creepy crawly creature in your garden. She just happened to pick a very odd time to start collecting the bug repellent ingredients.
And, no, I don't smoke. Maren's mom just grossly misinterpreted my comment. Granted, she had to reach pretty far to turn me into a smoker, even a seasonal one, but maybe she had heard about my mom and her chew. Like mother, like daughter...right? Right!

Transitions

My birthday was yesterday. I am thirty. I feel like maybe I am transitioning into a new phase of life. But today, I want to discuss a different kind of transition. The transition lens.
Transition lenses provide "healthy sight in every light", and wearing them probably does provide some kind of protection for our eyes, but there is a very disturbing side effect of wearing them. I like to call it the "Chester Molester" syndrome. You may be an upstanding citizen who contributes positively to society, but the transition lens makes everyone look, well, creepy. I think it is because the lens never really gets all the way clear. It stays a little gray all the time, and makes the wearer of the transition lens look sneaky.
I have only known a few people that have worn transition lenses, and everyone that I have known personally haven't been at all "Chester Molester". In fact, they have been very normal but obviously just made a bad choice in eye wear. (Steph- since my very favorite brother-in-law doesn't really read this, maybe you could just not tell him about this posting.)
Recently, I had an experience with a transition lens wearer. I was really more of an observer, but it made me wonder if sinister people choose to wear transition lenses to fit their personality or if the transition lens causes the sinisterness (is that even a word???). Maybe sinister is too harsh a word, I possibly should have chosen eerie, hair-raising, or menacing. (Can you tell I am using a thesaurus as to not use the word creepy too many times?)
The experience occurred in a Fast and Testimony Meeting. For anyone not aware of what this is, it is a meeting at my church where whoever wants to can stand up and share their feelings about the church/Jesus/Scriptures/etc. About half-way through the meeting, a guy walked into the back doors wearing a puffy coat and transition lenses. Once I saw the glasses, I knew we were in for trouble. He stood up and walked to the pulpit a few moments later, and his address went something like this:
"Hi, my name is Mark. I'm from the Rochester New York mission, and my mission president is my bishop. I'm a DJ. I just signed up to be a DJ last Friday, and my first gig is next week at SLCC. We are working to get some big acts to come to SLCC. We have contacted Miley Cyrus, and are working on getting her here." Yep, he gave a shout out to Miley Cyrus, but at least it wasn't Hannah Montana. He continued "I really like the University of Utah. You guys have really good dances here. I have recently contacted Radio Disney, and I am working on being sealed to Miley Cyrus."
Whoa. Two mentions of Miley Cyrus. CREEPY/SINISTER/EERIE!!!! I feel like someone should help him. I am pretty sure all it would take would be removal of the transition lenses. I think it would help him in all aspects of his life. It may even help him make some headway with Miley Cyrus.

It's Not Candy

I try to give up something every year for Lent. My friend Jen does this also, and she is really good at it. One year she gave up chocolate, and at almost the end of Lent, I made this really yummy chocolate cake, and she wouldn't even have a taste of it. It actually caused a small bit of tension between us, and I think possibly ended in me vowing to never ever make her chocolate cake again. I'm pretty sure that I have since made her my famous chocolate cake, but you will have to ask her if you really want to know.
I am also fairly good at Lent. For example, last year I gave up shopping. I didn't buy anything, except one pair of pants and a shirt. But, I purchased those at Costco, which is a place where normally you buy food, and I didn't give up grocery shopping, only clothes/shoes, so technically it didn't count against Lent. This year I gave up candy. Anyone who knows me, and you don't even have to know me well, knows that candy is probably my number two favorite food. My favorite would probably be ice, which some people (Natalie) tell me is not actually considered a food, and my ice chewing is actually a sign of a weird disease. I disagree because you can't live without water, which ice is a form of, so having ice as my favorite food could actually save my life.
Giving up candy wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it would be. It could have been harder, but there are a surprising number of things that are not candy! I am providing a list below just in case anyone else needs help giving up candy.
1. Cookies. Definitely not candy. Even if the cookie has candy pieces in it, still not candy.
2. Gum. It usually is minty, not sweet. No nutritional value and has an actual purpose....to freshen your breath....duh.
3. Mints. Any kind. Especially the really yummy mints from the Pub at Trolley Square. Sometimes you have to sneak extra mints when the cashier isn't looking just to make sure you will have fresh breath all day long...and maybe for a few days if you can grab two handfuls.
4. Fudge. Fudge is a baked good, similar to a cookie.
5. Chocolate covered raisins. Raisins are fruit. Fruit is not candy. If you mix the chocolate covered raisins with pretzels and possibly some almonds or peanuts, then it becomes trail mix, which is pretty much health food.
6. Fruit snacks. Especially the fruit smiles from Wal-Mart. The word fruit is in the name. Health food.
7. Graham crackers. With frosting. Just crackers. and frosting. yum.
See, not so bad. But it has been a long 40 days. I have been stocking up on Easter candy, and I've got my Cadbury Mini Eggs ready to go. At 12:01 on Sunday, I will be tearing into my Easter basket. Well, I don't actually have an Easter basket, but I will be tearing into my Smith's plastic grocery bag and eating lots of things that are actually candy.

Blind Texting

I am a horrible texter. Most of my friends know this about me, and most have them have gotten a text from me that says some thing like "pmtmdp gnd", which is the same as "sounds good" without the word function turned on. We laugh, and I vow to try harder to be a better texter. As much as I don't prefer text, I understand the ways of the world and that we are a society of texters. I will conform. It may take me 20 minutes to says "lets meet at 7" via text and only 5 seconds to say it on the phone, but I will conform.
Not everyone is as flexible as I am. Some are absolutely texting averse. So averse that they do not even have text capability on their phones. While I think this is ridiculous, I understand and will respect their wishes. I just think they need to alert the rest of us that they will not be receiving or responding to any texts that we, the general texting population, send.
Why my sudden introspection on texting? Well, I recently sent a text that I expected to get a response to, but I haven't, and it is causing me some concern.
I went out on a blind date a few weeks ago. It was fine. Not spectacular, but not horrible either. He was nice, dinner was good, conversation was okay. He called me on Friday of the next weekend, but I already had plans for both Friday and Saturday. Then, he called me the next week to tell me that he was going to be busy the coming weekend, so he wouldn't be calling. I thought "strange, but considerate". Then he called me last Monday at noon to see if I could go to lunch. I was already at lunch when he called, so lunch wasn't going to work for me. All of this contact was pretty much through messages he left on my voicemail.
I didn't ever actually call him back, but after his last message, I sent him a text that said "I already have plans for lunch, but maybe we could get together some other night this week." He had been fairly persistent, so I thought he would take me up on the offer, but at this point I haven't heard back from him. Kind of strange, right?
I was discussing this with some friends, and when I said that I had texted him, they asked if he had ever texted me. No, he hasn't. All contact he has made has been purely voice communication. I have concluded that he doesn't have text, which leads me to believe that he has concluded that I am a total brat who won't call him back. Now, I don't like people to think that I am a brat, but really it is his fault. If you don't have text capabilities on your phone, first, move into the new century, and second make it a point to alert those you are in contact with. Introduce yourself to people with "Hi, my name is Rob, and I don't get text." Treat it like a support group, like "hi, my name is Nicole, and I'm a shopaholic". This solves two problems-we can adjust our communication habits accordingly, and we can help you overcome such a ridiculous problem.

Potty Talk

There are strange things going on in the restroom at my job. Sounds creepy, right? Well, it is. The firm that I work for shares the floor in our building with a law firm, and an employee at the law firm is a non-hand washer. Gross. And weird. I mean, what adult doesn't wash their hands?
It gets grosser, and weirder. Occasionally, the non-hand washer come into the restroom barefoot. There aren't that many people that use the women's restroom, but still, don't walk into a public restroom barefoot. That is just a foot fungus waiting to happen.
There is a gym in our building that this lady must use because at least once a week, there is a pile of clothes in the handicap stall. She goes in there, changes into her gym clothes, and just leaves her regular clothes on the floor. So that foot fungus caused by her bare feet is slowly spreading to her work clothes.
I just don't understand the non-hand washing. The other things I can overlook, but we are taught from age zero that we always wash our hands. A couple of weeks ago, a girl I work with was in the restroom at the same time as this woman, and the woman actually turned on the water and walked out. No, she didn't wash her hands, she only turned on the water. She didn't even turn the water off. It was almost like she was turning on the water for my coworker, just to make sure she was going to wash her hands.
Can anyone think of any reason to not wash? We even have one of those automatic paper towel dispensers, so it makes it even easier to wash your hands. I cannot think of even one excuse. She is a grown woman, a lawyer, and I will never ever shake her hand.

You Are My Federer

When I was in high school, Melissa was my Sampras. Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi were the top tennis players in the world, and Pete Sampras could beat anyone. Melissa and I took tennis lessons together, we went to tennis camp together, we played on the tennis team together, we played tennis together all the time. In all the time that we have been playing tennis, I have probably beat Melissa three times. Sometimes I like to say that it is my lack of competitive spirit, but we all know the truth, Melissa is just better than I am. I think it really says something about her that she continues to play with me, but I guess Sampras just kept playing with the lowly underlings. That's how he kept his ranking. Melissa wasn't out for a ranking though, she's just really nice. ( P.S.-happy birthday Melissa. Sorry I haven't called yet.)
Well, Melissa and I haven't played in quite some time (and, on the down low, I think I may be able to take her), but I have been playing with my friend Luke. Where Melissa was my Sampras, Luke is my Federer. He always beats me. Every match starts with me talking some trash about bringing my "A" game or him "going down", but it always ends with me saying "Good game, Eastman".
Tonight, things were going to be different. During warm up, I was doing really well. You know the feeling. Everything you hit is perfect-it clears the net low, it lands deep, the placement is great. I was ready. I was serving first, and I double faulted on the first point. Then, I lost the first game. I didn't give up though, and I fought back to win the first set 7-5. I have never beat Luke in a set. This was awesome!!! A Miracle!!
Set two didn't go so well. All my good tennis had been used up, and I lost 1-6. Pathetic. My spirits were down, but the third set was a little better. I won the first game, but then, even though almost all the games went to deuce or were really close, I lost the third set 2-6.
If Luke really were Federer and we were playing in Wimbledon, John McEnroe would have said that I made a great effort, but Luke is just like no tennis player we have ever seen. It really says something that I could even take one set. I should feel proud that I won even one set against the almighty Luke.
This may sound silly, but really, winning one set is enough to make me happy and keep me talking trash until the next time. In fact, next time I may just be the Nadal to Luke's Federer.

Blog Problems

I know that I'm not the greatest blogger out there...I don't update that frequently, I never post pictures, and you really won't learn too much about me or my life by reading my blog. When I see things I find interesting or something happens to me that I think is funny, it frequently results in a blog post.
Recently, I have had a few funny things occur, and tonight something that was actually hilarious. Sadly, I haven't blogged about any of them. Why? Well, I am concerned about the readership of my blog. There are a few people in my life who I don't think read my blog, but because of recent events, I am now thinking they might be followers. For example, my mountain man shaved his mountain mad beard. Awesome!! I really don't think he reads my blog, but he shaved right after I blogged about how horrible I think the mountain man beard is. Coincidence? I don't know...
Because of the unknown people who may be reading this, let me just say tonight was hilarious, and I wish I could tell you all about it. Lets just say I was completely out of my comfort zone, drinking diet coke way too late at night, all while trying to avoid doing laundry. Scary.

Just because you can doesn't mean you should

I went to church today, and I was surrounded by mountain men. I'm not kidding, half the guys in my ward have these hideous bushy beards covering their faces. We live in a day and age where we have heaters in our homes and cars. We buy our food at the grocery store and don't have to hunt out in the cold weather to put food on the table. There is no practical reason for the mountain man beard to be so widespread! I look at all these hairy faces around me, and it makes me wonder "what are they thinking?!! Do they not realize they look ridiculous?"
Now, you may want to call me shallow for judging all these boys based on their facial hair choices, but really I'm not. One of my best friends has a mountain man beard. I really like him. We hang out a lot and have a lot in common. I have another friend who always asks me if there is anything else going on between me and first mentioned friend, and my answer is always "no...he has a mountain man beard." I have no problem being friends with a mountain man, but I don't think I could ever see a mountain man and think "wouldn't it be great to kiss that rugged mountain man."
Again, you may think I am shallow, but really I think I am justified. I think these mountain men should realize that just because they are capable of growing a big bushy beard, doesn't mean they should. Just because I am capable of rolling out of bed and heading to work five minutes later, doesn't mean I shouldn't shower, brush my teeth, blow dry my hair, put on makeup, etc. before I leave the house. I think everyone should realize the world would be better off if the mountain men stayed in the 1800's and stop trying to make a comeback in 2009.