The Importance of Getting the Whole Story

Today is Paper Football Day. In preparation for the festivities I did a little research on that web of information and found a site that not only gives step-by-step instructions on how to fold the footballs, but also provides the rules of the game.

This is what we call The Jackpot.

Over the course of perusing the info and IM’ing with Quiet-But-Hilarious about our game plan, I changed my gChat status to “Studying up on paper football rules”. Innocent enough and also true.

A bit later I received a message from JI that said: “In my little chat window, your message gets cut off and so it says ‘studying up on pap’….” I’ve edited her message slightly, but I think you can see where she was going.

Funny. And awkward. But mostly funny.

Now, I know I’ve reached a level of sharing with the internet that most people aren’t comfortable with (Like how today when I was walking to a stall in the restroom I passed by another stall where the woman was already SITTING DOWN as she was closing the door. I was caught completely off guard (because WHY?) and only saw her out of the corner of my eye, but it was enough to cause lasting emotional damage.) but I’d like to think I have some boundaries.

Then again, never say never.

And I bet when you read the first sentence of this post, and groaned to yourself because I was writing another post about a lame paper football game, you never imagined this is where we’d end up. You’re welcome.

Three Things

It's 1:00am and I told myself that would go to bed as soon as I got home. But I've been home for 30 minutes and here I am, blogging of all things. It's just that I had some things I wanted to say.

-I was really excited to donate blood tonight. I wore short sleeves for easier access to my veins, drove to work so I could get there on time, printed off my donor card so it would be easier to find me in the system - I was ready. Alas, in the end my blood was rejected. REJECTED. Apparently I was a little low on iron. But don't worry, I still ate snacks and drank apple juice as if I had actually donated.

-I ate Taco Time tonight. With two fabulous people. And I saw a man with the longest, silveriest (Yup. That's now a word.) mullet ever. Mexi-fries and mullets. Happy Tuesday!

-I accidentally rubbed eye makeup remover all over my face tonight instead of toner. This was even after I had used the eye makeup remover to, you know, remove the makeup from my eyes. I think I'm tired.

Wishful Thinking

A few of us are in charge of organizing a happy hour for my department this month. With the upcoming Superbowl (don’t ask me when it actually is because I couldn’t tell you…first weekend in February?) I decided to have a paper football tournament.

One problem: I have no idea how to make paper footballs.

But I do know that kids did it in high school. It was annoying then, but why not bring it back as an adult and get some alcohol involved?

When I volunteered to make the paper footballs, I threw in the caveat that I’d never done it before but that I was sure I could figure it out. (Insert me believing in myself here.)

That was when Quiet-But-Hilarious guy threw in his two cents:

“I don’t know how to make them either. If only there was a web of information – one that was worldwide – that could provide us with what we need.”

If only.

Sums It Up

I was looking through some old photos tonight and happened upon this one.

My first thought was, Yup. That pretty much sums it up.

The Part Where I Show Very Little Compassion

I typically don’t have cash on me. So when I get hit up (daily) by people on the street asking for money, I’m not lying when I tell them “Sorry. I don’t have any.” That’s not why I don’t carry cash, but it does keep me honest.

However, last night as I was waiting outside Cara’s office before we made our way to a National Geographic Live! seminar (loved it, btw) a man approached me and asked me for “five bucks, or something”. Before reciting my typical answer, I remembered that I had stuffed $1 in my back pocket for a Diet Coke earlier that day and it had gone unused. So I reached into my pocket and said, “I don’t have $5, but I have one…” and handed it to him.

He took it from me, held the dollar in the air for a moment and stared at me with a look that resembled something of Really? A dollar? and then turned and walked away without saying a word.

I wanted to shout after him YOU’RE WELCOME! I mean, doesn’t he know that was my Diet Coke money?

Tips for Productivity

Five quick tips for increased productivity. You can thank me later.

1. If you have to work late because every deadline you could possibly have all fall on the same day (that day being tomorrow), do not go home and plan to work from there. It doesn't matter that you only ate a crappy PB&J for lunch and are now so hungry that you're sure you will literally die if you don't eat something. Just stay at work, suck on some sugar packets and hammer it out.

2. Do not call your mom on the way home from grabbing food (you know, so you don't die) thinking that you'll get in a quick chat. Especially when you haven't talked to her for several weeks and you need to explain how, when and where you are moving. (I'm moving!)

3. Do not work from the couch. With or without the TV on.

4. Do not turn on the TV. It will never just be "background noise". It will be American Idol. And you will watch it.

5. Do not realize what a bust your night has been and proceed to document it for the benefit of the Internet.

Conversation of the Day

MZ: Why'd you put your coat in the cold room?
Me: Well, it was the only place no one was sitting.
SU: Huh. I didn't think anyone was sitting on the coat rack...


They have a coat rack. Noted.

3 AM

Love this song. Love him.

Here's to hoping I run into him on the pool deck in a month. You know, so I can awkwardly smile and keep walking.

I'm really good at that.

Blackmail Waiting to Happen

You know your Friday afternoon is pretty much done for when an email goes out with a link to the company party photos. THIRTY FLICKR PAGES WORTH OF PHOTOS. These photos are just blackmail waiting to happen. And, oh boy, did I end up in more of them that I would have liked.

But remember how I had a surprisingly good time at this party? Here's the photographic evidence.

I'm pretty sure this was my favorite kitten.

If you look closely behind me you will find my entertainment for the night. The one that appears to be mid-high five at the moment this was taken. You know the quiet kid that rarely speaks (but you know is secretly hilarious)? Yeah, that's him. And he's not so quiet after a few drinks.

I danced the night away. Contrary to how it appears in this photo, I was not dancing alone.

 More photos posing with cutouts of kittens with laser eyes? Sure, why not?

There are some photos that are WAY better than these, but they're chuck-full of CW's and I don't feel like I should post them. But just know that they are good.

*I would give credit to the photographer here, but I have no clue who she was.

Me in All of My Plain Jane Glory

I went to a very fancy dinner tonight. Five course fancy. $700 fancy. In way over my head FANCY.

Let's just say I'm a very unadventurous eater (which some might argue is an understatement) so when I have to participate in these meals I get a little nervous. The problem usually isn't that I can't find anything on the menu that I would like, but more that I have no idea what the words on the menu mean.

Kumquat Gastrique? Confit? Pomegranate Demi?
I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT.

To make things even more complicated this evening, it was a prefix menu. Meaning I just chose how many courses I wanted and what came during each of those courses was already decided. To be clear: I committed to several courses of food I didn't really choose. We each ordered the five course meal, which turned into six courses when one of the men I was with (in an alcohol altered state) requested the chef whip us up some foie gras when he came out to say hello to our table.

It was an interesting experience that I will sum up in this statement: I feel like I lived through my own personal Fear Factor tonight. 

Below is a list of most of the items I ate. Not just items that were served, but items that I actually consumed. If you know me at all then, after reading this list, you will probably rub your eyes and re-read it to make sure you weren't seeing things.


Butternut squash soup
Goat cheese
Sea scallops
Braised pork belly
Brussels sprouts
Quail egg
Sweetbreads
Artic char
Foie Gras
Lemon-pomegranate sorbet
Moulard duck breast
Creme brulee and other dessert deliciousness

Let me break this down for you. I ate sea life, a thymus gland, sea life again, liver and duck. And I didn't throw up or even gag. Although there were a few moments with the char that I had to stop thinking about how I was eating fish right at that moment.

I'm not going to lie, I left that restaurant 3.5 hours later feeling pretty proud of myself. I did it. It may have been out of guilt, but it still happened.


Update: Not everything on the list was too exotic for my taste buds. Maybe just 90%...

Resolute

There are a lot of things I want to accomplish in 2010. Some big, some small. Some things I should be doing already and some are new additions to the To Do list. But there are a few things in particular that I'm officially titling my "resolutions".

Here they are in all of their glory.

Drink more water. Now, don't confuse this with "Drink Less Diet Coke". It's not the same thing and not what I'm going for. I'm happy to continue drinking a can of DC a day, but I need to increase my liquid intake on top of that.

Serve. I've been thinking for the last year (at least) that I want to find a place to volunteer on a regular basis. I've looked for opportunities, but not hard enough.

Do hard things. I worry too much about what other people think of me and oftentimes let that stop me from doing certain things. (Am I in therapy right now?) I'm also really good at talking myself out of doing a lot of things I would like to do, but this year I'm going to push myself to do things that are hard for me to do.

Oh, the possibilities!

Give people the benefit of the doubt. I have a friend who has been a brilliant example of this. She's always trying to view situations from the other person's perspective and just generally looks for the good in people. I'm inspired by her positivity. And I, for one, could use an extra scoop of positivity in my life.

I have 12 months to make it happen. Knowing me, I'll probably start around month 10. Maybe I should add "Don't procrastinate" to the list...

Shot Caller

Remember this guy we found at a Mariner's game?

Let this be a lesson to you: You can learn something anywhere. From anyone.

You know, because it's Tuesday.

There are only four people who frequent this little space that will enjoy this video, but since I'm kind of the boss here I'm posting it anyway. Slightly long, but a delightful story at the beginning.

By the way, you're on speaker.

Three-way speakerphone conversation in the car...

Linds: I picked Steph up from work.
Em: Did Steph remember you were picking her up? Or did she walk four blocks toward the bus stop first?
Me: Hey, I heard that!


I will admit, it was a valid question.

Best $1.50 You'll Ever Spend

I heard this conversation between co-workers this morning.

 

CW 1: Hey! I saw you at Costco this weekend.

CW 2: You did? Was I inside?

CW 1: No, you were in line for a hot dog...

CW 2: Sounds about right. That's the only reason I went.

 

It's no wonder I get along with CW 2 so well.

Getting My Money's Worth

One of my first orders of business upon arriving in Seattle was to find a good (read: non-sketchy) nail salon since I indulge in a pedicure on a pretty regular basis.

Well-kept feet are important. At least to me.

I had a fabulous place in North Salt Lake where maybe I was sometimes known as Jennifer, but most of the time they called me Stephanie, and I wanted to find that place in my new town. After trying a few I stumbled upon one close to home. It only took that one time for me to know that I had found what I was looking for.

The last few pedicures I have gotten have been with co-workers at "fancy" places downtown with sales reps that I work with footing the bill. The going rate for these pedicures is probably close to $75+ per person, which is completely absurd. Having had my fair share of pedicures over the last few years, I can safely say that the fancy pedi's are not as good as what I get for $20. Sure they may use special salts to exfoliate and paraffin wax to hydrate, but all I'm really looking for smooth feet, a nice paint job and a killer leg massage. Oh, and in a non-sketchy atmosphere.

Needless to say, I had missed my ladies close to home. So today I paid them a visit and it was a treat. I've outlined a few highlights below.

• When I walked in the door one said, "It's YOU!" while the other said, "Where have you been?!".
  
• They always make sure to let me know they last time Lindsay was in and what color she got. (It was yesterday and she got french on her feet and black on her hands, in case you wanted to know.)
• Li randomly started singing "I Dreamed a Dream" and then we talked about Susan Boyle for a while. She know all her stats of how old she was, how many albums sold, etc.
• While my nails were drying she found me a copy of EW that had an interview with Ellen DeGeneres and Simon Cowell discussing American Idol, opened it up to that page, set it on my lap and told me to read it and report back what it said.
• I learned all about The Bachelor and she explained how one girl got kicked off for some scandal with a producer. She then went on to ask me if the show was actually real...as if I had the inside scoop somehow.
• She thinks I should be a foot model. Apparently my feet are nice.
• The shop is run by two women (sisters-in-law) and one of their husbands also works there. As I was paying she whispered to me, "He never remembers you. But today he did and remembered that you always bring a Diet Coke. He just asked me why you didn't bring one today." Kind of embarrassing, mostly funny.

Who needs to pay $75 when I can get all of that for $20?

The Commute

Some days I just don't want to get out of bed. Not because I'm sad or depressed and can't bear to face the day; I just really like my bed and really dislike anything that happens before 8am. It's a daily struggle, usually involving me giving myself some sort of pep talk.

Today was particularly rough. I felt so, so tired and even the thought of the mountain of work I had to get through today didn't trigger enough anxiety to get me out of bed. So I engaged my "Plan B" alarm and went back to sleep.

I think you'd all be impressed with the complexity of the alarm system I have going on. Remember how a few months back I kept sleeping through three alarms? I wasn't exaggerating.

Alarm #1: Musical pre-game. "Good morning, sunshine!" A nice, pleasant reminder that I have 10 more minutes of bliss.
Alarm #2: Annoying cell phone chime. "You should really get up now." But of course I've built in time for some Snoozing.
Alarm #3: Annoying cell phone chime. "It's go time. Snoozing is no longer an option and you really should have gotten out of bed 15 minutes ago."

Plan B Alarm: Annoying cell phone chime. This alarm is not set to go off daily so if I decide on Plan B I have to make sure I turn it on somewhere between Alarm #2 and Alarm #3. Moving to Plan B means that I will catch a later bus and get to work at the last possible moment before crossing the line into "late".

This morning I went even beyond Plan B and when I finally rolled out of bed at 7:35am, I knew that today I would need to rock the curly hair and that I would need to drive downtown in order to make it at the very last minute on time.

That's the really long way of saying: I drove to work today.

Thursday was the new Wednesday this week and although I didn't feel like Thrusday punched me in the face, there was still a lot going on. Around 5:30 I started to not feel very well but knew I had to finish at least one project in particular before I could leave. By the time 7:00 rolled around my brain was over it, I still didn't feel well and was dreading the bus ride home. Yes, the bus ride. So I gathered my things, popped in my headphones and began the trek to the bus stop.

I don't know what sparked the thought, but about four blocks into the journey I realized that I had not taken the bus to work that morning. And that my car was sitting in a parking garage six blocks in the other direction.

Normally I would have seen the humor in this situation, but I really wasn't feeling well and the story became even less funny when I realized that there was a 10 hour limit at the garage. A 10 hour limit which, by the time I got there, I had exceeded by 15 minutes and now had to pay $18 to get my car out instead of $10.

Tomorrow I think I'll skip Plan B.

What I Learned on Sunday

...from a small boy wearing a sweater vest and a hardcore part in his hair on a video from the early 90's.

"If there are wicked people in the land, move. For sure."

I don't want to say that's the ONLY thing I learned on Sunday (because my roommate taught a very good lesson in RS), but it definitely stood out.

Unclutter

This weekend I spent a couple days helping a friend pack up her apartment and move to her new place. I was more than happy to help, but that experience reminded me that I never want to move again.

Ever.

And if I have to, I will strongly consider throwing everything out and starting over.

But it motivated me in some strange way and when I got home after the second night I decided to tackle a project of my own that I've been putting off. My room is very small and oddly-shaped and I had one too many pieces of furniture crammed in. I devised a plan to move the bookshelf out of my bedroom and into the spare room next door (And just so we're clear, when I say "spare room" I mean "glorified closet that is used to store everything we don't have room for in the rooms we actually use") and move the dresser to a more optimal location.

This is the bookshelf that got the boot and an awkward view of the room.

And while I was at it, I thought I'd fix a few drawers that had been bugging me for 1.5 years. Which also turned into going through the contents of those drawers. (I learned that I have WAY too many t-shirts. The excuse "But this would be great for painting" can only work for so long. I mean, how often do I paint anything?) Which then led to cleaning out my closet.

This is the point I had reached at 9:00pm. Question: Why do I always find it necessary to start big projects so late in the evening?

In the end it was all worth it. Here's the (almost) finished product.

Now I just have to get my new "art" hung - Audrey will no longer be staring at me while I sleep.

Doesn't a clean, uncluttered room just make you happy? Yeah, me too.

A Short Story

I hate my blog template but am too lazy to change it.

The end.

Nice to Meet You, 2010.

For some reason New Year's Eve always makes me a little sad. I guess it feels like some sort of deadline and I'm always left feeling like I haven't quite done enough. (Which is pretty much standard for my life in general, but I'll save that for therapy.) Needless to say, I've never been a fan of the holiday and have actually spent the last few years void of any sort of celebration.

This year I decided things would be different.

I spent most of the day working and a better part of the evening literally staring at the wall, just thinking. By 8:30pm I decided I should probably shower if I was really going to make this NYE thing happen.

I had already committed Lindsay to coming out with me and, after several persuasive speeches, I was able to get Cara to come as well. (Semi-tangent: On the way out the door I said, "Cara, it's already 10:30. By the time we get there we'll only have to make it through an hour, tops." To which she replied, "Yeah, that's about 55 minutes longer than I'd like." Ah, love her.)

So, we went to a dance. A DANCE. Where all the lights were on and they were serving chips and salsa. It was also a sweat box and within five minutes I looked like a hot, hot mess. BUT I did what I set out to do just by showing up and in the end it was a good time. I mean, Lindsay even worked in a New Year's kiss so really she should be thanking me.

When the clock struck 12 we were standing outside in the rain watching fireworks at the Space Needle. We'd had our fill of the dance so we decided to top off the evening with a viewing of Newsies, sing-along included. Oh that Christian Bale...

Here we are post festivities. See what I mean about looking like a hot mess?

I think I'll reflect on the past year in another post, but for now I'll just say "It's nice to meet you, 2010. I think this is the beginning of something good."


Oh, and if you'd like to catch up on my non-celebrations of years past, I've linked them here for your convenience. You're welcome.
NYE 2006
NYE 2007
NYE 2008