Looks Good to Me, Kid

So part of my job is to help clean before we close. One of the things I clean is the soda fridge, which has three sliding glass doors that always have TEN BILLION fingerprints on them, and they are usually about an inch away from the handle. Really people. Move the extra one inch to grab the handle. I promise it won't kill you.  Ha ha. No, actually those doors don't open easily at all, so I'm not at all upset about the handprints.

But the reason I'm telling everyone this mundane fact.

I was cleaning it last night, and there was a customer behind me waiting for takeout. I felt like the silence was uncomfortable, so I said in a light manner, "You know, it doesn't matter how hard I scrub out here, I'll never get the inside of the glass clean, and if I can't reach the inside glass, so it always looks dirty."  STUPID? I KNOW. I really don't understand why I open my mouth sometimes.

Anyway, the guy is really friendly, so he says a few sentences that I've forgotten by now, but his last sentence was "Looks good to me, kid."

Hmph.

I had a fun conversation with him. But I wonder how old he thinks I am.  People seem to think I'm in high school or I'm 25. Go figure. I think my left side is youthful and my right side is aging.  Dunno.  Can't explain it.

The Lesson from Ogden High

My grandfather went to Ogden High.

I almost went to Ogden High (though, I also almost went to a lot of other high schools, too).

What does that have to do with anything? Let me give you a scenario.

A customer comes to me and says he wants to split his bill in two, but just with a calculator, they don't need two separate pieces of paper. They both have cash, they just want to know what half of their bill is.

I look at it and tell them how much they'll each pay, with a remainder of one penny, so maybe they should thumb wrestle to find out who pays that last penny.

The man looks at me strange and says "You Ogden High kids. Good with the math and jokes."

So I'm thinking back to my knowledge about the school. What I remember has nothing to do with this mathematical/humor fame. While I'm reflecting, I say, "I almost went to Ogden High, but I didn't," just to let him know the truth.

He replies, "Almost, huh? So you're not a freshman anymore. You must be a Sophomore. No more people teasing you anymore, right?"

"No, actually I graduated," I say with a smile on my face. I am trying to stand up taller so that I don't look like such a child, but then I realize that by trying to appear taller, I might be appearing proud that I graduated. I am, but I don't want to come off as prideful.

"Really?" He really is shocked--I know because his face looked it. "Where did you graduate from?"

"Utah State," I answer. Then his wife and his buddy look at me, also a little taken off-guard.

"Wow! Utah State, huh?" I nod, but he doesn't seem to believe me. "What did you graduate in?" he asks, as if looking for proof.

"English, with an emphasis on professional and technical Writing and a minor in marketing," I reply. And then I had to leave because I had to seat a couple. As I smiled and sat them at their table, I couldn't help but think that maybe I should've stayed with Engineering, or Science, or applied for Law School as so many of my English program teachers advised me to do. Evidently, law schools love people from my program. If I had done something else, maybe I'd not worry about paying bills so much as I do right now. Maybe I wouldn't be looking for signs that Utah's economy is picking up enough that companies can afford to hire writers again.

But then I go home to write in my journal. Then I read. Then I write the stories that swirl in my head. A friend asks me to edit a paper. My computer dies and I realize how much information I lost on there, precious information that takes hours to pound out, information that gives me carpal tunnel creating it...

And I realize that I wouldn't want to do anything else other than write. I love to organize sentences, technical or creative. If my life wasn't about words, about organization, about perfecting, about imagining, then it wouldn't be the life I love and look forward to.

I might not have a writing job that pays right now, but I am a writer in my heart, and I will wait for the day when someone is willing to pay me to do what they don't to do, because they'll pay me with more than money, they'll pay me with the opportunity to create more words in more places than I would be able to on my own.

So thank you, man-customer who came in and thought I was young enough to be in high school. Thanks for renewing my passion for writing. And thanks for thinking I'm young, because it reminded me that I am young, and I have time to wait for those writing jobs, and eventually, I'll be able to teach everything I've learned to my students and my children, should I have any.

I guess that's something from Ogden High, even though I never went there. And if I learned something from that school, a place I've never been, I wonder what else I'm going to learn. So life, what's next?

Confronting Ursula

I decided that when I'm tired, I have lots of observations that the world should know about. I'll write about one of those thoughts now.

Ursula should not exist. I'm talking Ursula from The Little Mermaid, not from George of the Jungle--that Ursula is fine. Ariel's Ursula on the other hand is a waste of terrifying space. She is already all-powerful because of her magic and her potions and her blood contracts and whatnot, so why did she need a trident to make her even scarier and WHY on EARTH did she need to get so HUGE? Honestly, the seawitch just kept becoming scarier and scarier as the movie went on. Just when you think you get to know her, BOOM! You don't anymore and once again she is an unpredictable evil lady. She's deadly underwater, and she's deadly on land, especially if she can store your voice inside a seashell.

Don't put your voice in a seashell, people. I mean really, how could that ever be a good idea? Is NOT logical at all.

And so this all-powerful, huge, nasty, scary creature was on the loose, and how do they stop her?

Prince Erik (fine man, that one) pokes her in the gut with a ship.

...dwell on that for a second...

...all powerful nasty blah blah blah...huge...trident...seawitch...

AND THEY POKE HER LIKE THE PILLSBURY DOUGHBOY???? HOW does THAT solve the problem? I mean seriously seriously seriously. I do not buy that at all. Ursula could not have gone down that easily. She was clearly faking a stupid achilles heel (or stomach) and she is on the prowl out there, waiting for some woman to wish for a man, watching for a girl who is desperate to be something she is not so that she can have the man of her dreams.

Not bashing Ariel. Not really. I love the story. Mermaid falls in love with human, blah blah blah, and I'm thankful that things worked out in the end, and I realize Ariel wouldn't be married to Prince Erik without Ursula's existence because her father never would've changed her into a human in the first place even though he had the power to avoid the whole tragedy...

Like how I talk as if it's all real?

Well news flash to those of you who haven't talked to me about Ursula. I am scared of this woman, because as much as I know she's a cartoon, and as much as I know that I am almost 21 years old and I have no reason to fear pixels of color and a voice overlay, I have this really bad feeling that she's going to convince me to sign a contract with her, or that she'll eat me, or some other event that will lead to my demise.

So world, laugh if you desire. Many have done so, and some people have tried watching the movie with me to help me see if I am over this absurd fear. But guess what? I should be trying to watch it with you so that I can warn you about this evilness that we introduce our children to. I apologize for using the word "to" to end a sentence. Anyway, you should all be aware that Ursula is stronger than she appeared to be, and she will seek revenge on your most beloved cartoon character sometime in the future when you least expect it. Or she will try to eat you in a recurring nightmare.

I realize this is dramatic, and honestly, if I go crazy, Ursula may be the cause. Either that or the number four. But this is something I decided the world needs to know about. And yes, I feel qualified to make that decision.

Ha ha ha. It's always more fun to write a blog when you are super tired.

Morning Mews

So you want to know the news this morning? I mean there's got to be news if I woke up at 6:30, right? Especially since I didn't go to sleep until 2:00...don't judge.

The news is mews!

I woke up insanely early and I was annoyed for a split second before I realized what woke me up.

A little kitten, maybe an inch in front of my face. She weighs as much as a handful of styrofoam. That's the best scientific term I can weigh her in.

But oh baby, I cannot wait until she learns how to properly bathe herself. She has a slight stink. Not too bad, but there's definitely room for improvement. She's stinkin' cute though.

I'm trying to name her by the end of the day. I wanted to name her spit, because she just spat at the dog a lot yesterday. It's shocking when she spits. I don't think I could do anything as forcefully as that kitten hisses and spits.

I'm thinking Regie because I've been listening to a bit of Regina Spektor lately, or Norah, for Norah Jones...but ReAnne has another cat named Random. We had another cat named Chaos, so together they were Random Chaos, so if I can think of another name that goes fun with random, it'd be great. Any suggestions?

FREEDOM!

YOU GUYS!

I'm FREE!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's right. I'm an American with a passport, finally! (The passport is the new possession, not the citizenship.)

Thanks for the graduation present, Mom. I always wanted a passport, even though I've never had a reason to get one.

And my picture is so cute. I don't say that often, because I'm not very photogenic. Really, I'm not being modest. My sister Jaycey loves me so much, but even she gives up when trying to take a good picture of me, and she feels embarrassed when she looks at photos of me. Don't worry though, she's not harsh when she tells me so. She says I'm much better in real life, and she just doesn't understand what goes wrong in my photos. Good luck if I get bridals, right? Pray for the photographer, if that day should ever arrive.

And yes, I'm up late. I'm trying to fall tired so I can fall asleep.

Got Drama?

So...you know that saying about it being too hot in the kitchen?

I work in a hot kitchen. Well, I'm not in there all the time. I only yell stuff at the cooks and grab waitresses and sauces and whatnots,

But the hot part of the kitchen is two-fold, a good hot and a not-so-good hot.

There are two guys in there who are SO FUN to flirt with. And they want me to yell at them more often. Ha ha. I don't like yelling, and they can tell. They say I look scared to upset someone. And then they flirt. It's great fun.

So they add some hot to the kitchen, in a good way. ;)

The bad part is the heat that comes from drama. I knew that there could be drama at work, but oh my H! (H stands for headache.) One waitress is always ornery, another is in training, and the other is quiet about everything so I don't know if she's okay or not because she just won't show it.

Being host isn't brain surgery--it's actually a pretty fun puzzle. And it's fun to interact with so many different people and get to know the regulars who've been eating here since they were 2, but the drama...I did not expect so much drama. For now, I've been able to not let it get to me at work, but once I get home, I realize how much effort it takes for me not to tell people to stop taking everything so seriously and blowing things out of proportion.

Man, I tell you what, blogs are great places to acknowledge frustration with the world, but really the job is pretty fun. The food is great, and I get a dinner and soda every time I work. So yummy.

ALSO! !!!! !

I just have to put on new windshield wipers and pay for registration, and my car is good to go!

OH BOY THAT IS EXCITING NEWS! I love my boat car :)

Dreams

I just want to know, how often do you guys remember your dreams, and how often are those dreams absurd? I keep having crazy dreams, but they make for excellent writing ideas. I don't get bored very often because I can always think of the many story ideas I have swirling around in my head, and most of them come from my dreams.  That makes me a daydreamer, but I'm fine with that, because it's the greatest entertainment I have in this world at the moment.

But really, do you remember your dreams and how crazy are they? (Feel free to share a dream with me too. I love hearing other people's random night adventures.)

Also, does anyone keep a dream journal or have you ever heard of one? Maybe I'll do a post about how beneficial dream journals are, because I'm a nerd like that.

Why Are You Wet?

So McDonald's or some other fast food joint put last airbender toys in their kids meals. My little 3 year old cousin got one of the toys that squirts water. Not a lot of water, but enough to annoy someone's face.

He comes and asks to sit on my lap. His shirt is soaking. So are his pants. I ask why he's wet. He tells me about the toy. I tell him it's weird to shoot himself with it. I also tell him to get off me because I do not like wet children.  Love him. But get off me when you are wet, please.

He comes back about an hour later, pretty dry. But he still soaks my pant leg. Then I wonder why only his butt is wet.  He probably was sitting down while drying off, so his butt wouldn't get dry as fast...but I still ask.

"Bud, did you pee on Woody?" (He has Toy Story pull-ups)

He doesn't answer. I try not to do a dance of disgust and rip my pants off.  I succeed in avoiding the urge.

"Hey, do you need to go to the bathroom?"

"No," he says.

"Yeah no wonder you don't. You peed on me, didn't you?"

No answer.  I tell him to go sit on the toilet while I get him a diaper instead of a pull-up, because that's what happens when you pee your pants. I put you in a real diaper.

Or at least that's what happens when you pee on my pants.

I'm FAMOUS!

Or at least I'm one of the top results on Google when people search for this question:

why isn't come thou fount of every blessing in the hymn book?

My blog post on that specific question is the 4TH website in the results list from google.

I know because someone left a comment explaining the situation on my cleave website.

Maybe when you look, I won't be number 4 anymore, which will stink because it's my favorite number, but it'll be great if I move up the ranks.

I'm being recognized people. I answered a stranger's question. GRAND!

Thanks for your comments guys :) you are all right. I still haven't heard back from him. I'm not putting more into him. Good news! Lagoon and movie tonight!