I am no longer apologizing for the lateness of my posts.

I've just accepted it. I will not be a daily post kind of girl. So here's your taste of the last week of my life:

Tuesday, Feb 10:
You know the phrase, "under the bus?" As in, "He just threw you under the bus?" Well, I learned that the origin of the phrase is, in part, attributed to my very own hometown newspaper! There are a few ideas of where the phrase came from- ranging from Cyndi Lauper in 1984 to Minor League baseball slang. But there is mention that one of the first citations for the phrase in text is from a 1991 article in the Colorado Springs Gazette Telegraph (currently The Gazette). Who knew? To read more on the origin of the phrase, click here.

Wednesday, Feb 11:
I had some girl-time with my friend Rochelle. We had popcorn and watched The O.C. on DVD (yep, I'm serious. We are unapologetic about the quality of television we enjoy). I leanred that Ro has a horrifying habit. She eats unpopped popcorn kernels. She has no explanation for why. I don't even know what else to say, but if you've been wondering what to do with the kernels in the bottom of the bowl, just invite Ro over. They'll mysteriously disappear before you realize what has happened, because of course, you'd never believe a human would eat them. But it's true. And I saw it. And heard it.

Thursday, Feb 12:
I went to court today. I attended a hearing. It was actually incredibly interesting. I learned that some lawyers will use "objection" very liberally in the hopes that the judge will let something slide. I learned that we have at least one magistrate in Colorado Springs who is not all that dissimilar to Judge Judy. And I like her for it. I also learned that if a particular residence has a large number of police/911 calls, the police will assign an officer to check on the residence and try to figure out why the pattern exists.

Friday, Feb 13:
I learned that Anne Boleyn made a joke about having a small neck on the day of her death. For those of you not as obsessed with Tudor England as I am, Anne Boleyn was an English Queen who was executed. She was the second wife of King Henry VIII, and he had her tried for treason and sentenced to death by beheading. On the day of her death, it is said that she joked about her own impending death, saying, "I heard say the executioner was very good, and I have a little neck." She then reportedly put her hands around her neck and "laughed heartily."

Saturday, Feb 14:
I learned something I may never have to use in my entire life. On the original Mario Brothers Nintendo game, there is a place where it is (theoretically) possible to earn 99 lives. If you already know this, you are a bigger nerd than I thought (and you join the ranks of some of my best friends). Anyway, this marvelous opportunity is in level 3-2. At the very end, when you are hopping up the pyramid to get to the flag, there are two turtles walking down the pyramid toward you. You have to jump on one of them, knocking him into just a shell, and then jump up on him again, knocking him against the stairs, and then keep jumping up right as he is bouncing off the stair wall and toward you. If you do this with just the right timing, you keep knocking him against the stair wall every time you jump, which earns you points. If you do it repeatedly in rapid succession, your point values increase by doubles until you are earning 1ups every time he hits the wall. Apparently you can do this 99 times (if you have cat-like reflexes and the patience of a snail). And truly, I suppose you could do it more, but since the original Mario game was pre-Y2K, it didn't foresee such things as triple-digit life counts, therefore, Mario or Luigi can only have up to 99 lives before the game would not track it.
Use this knowledge wisely, folks. With great power comes great responsibility.

Sunday Feb 15:
I learned once again that the logic of children is neither sound nor complicated. My little cousin, Isaiah, is three. I got to see him on Sunday. We were at my friend's photography show (which was awesome, by the way), and there were fruit trays all around. I helped him get some snacks, offering him grapes and melons. He wanted grapes. About halfway through a nice-sized bunch of grapes, the following exchange took place:
Isaiah (holding a grape in his hand after taking a bite of it): "I throw up grapes."
Me: "What?"
Isaiah: "I throw up when I eat grapes." (He pops the other half of the grape in his mouth.)
Me: "Then why are you eating them?"
Isaiah: "I like grapes."
Me (turning to his mom): "Does Isaiah throw up when he eats grapes?"
Isaiah's mom (looking at his plate with more grapes on it): "Yeah."

Awesome.

Monday, Feb 16:
This lesson was learned somewhere between Sunday and Monday, I can't be sure. Some friends and I went to Cripple Creek on Sunday afternoon. We spent time in the casinos Sunday night and into Monday morning. I can sum up the Cripple Creek gambling experience with the following:
-People under age 40 do not fit in.
-People who can breathe without the aid of medical equipment may or may not fit in, depending on which casino you are in and what time of day it is.
-'Restaurant' is a term used very loosely in Cripple Creek.
-And finally, be careful to look closely at the denomination of your money when tipping cocktail waitresses.

I've got to improve on updating...

Tuesday, Feb 3:
Tuesday I learned what people mean when they say something tastes 'gamey.' I tasted venison for the first time, thanks to the Badrys' fridge. Yum. (ish.)

Wednesday, Feb 4:
Wednesday the Stick Horses had their weekly practice at my house. It's the benefit of living with someone in the troupe- I get to see a free show in my own house! So I tried to follow a game they played. It was called Wizards, Goblins, and Dragons. Or something like that. And all I can say is that they stood in a circle and stared at each other for a while. Then everyone struck a pose or did a little dance at the same time. Then they all celebrated to varying degrees, although it was unclear from my perspective what poses or dances or outcomes were cause for celebration. They repeated this several times. It looked like a strange full-body version of Rock Paper Scissors, but I can't be sure. All I know for sure is that Lacey did the best Goblin dance.

Thursday, Feb 5:
I re-learned today's lesson. I remembered the value of taking an evening to slow down. I generally keep my days full. It's not necessarily that I want to be busy all the time, but I don't say no very often, because I am blessed to have fabulous friends who are always thinking of interesting things to do. And most days, I'm enjoying my busy life. But sometimes I have to remind myself to step back and be by myself. I am a true introvert. As much as I enjoy the people in my life, it is not energizing to me to spend time with people. I get energy by taking time to myself. I need that time to recharge. I need that time to watch horrible primetime dramas without ridicule (tonight it was night one of the Grey's/Private Practice crossover EVENT). Basically, I just need 'me' time.
*As a sidenote, is it just me, or does anyone else think it's ridiculous when a TV show is referred to as an Event?

Friday, Feb 5:
I thought I learned that Yaks' milk is pink. My sister told me this. I'm always skeptical of the things that I 'learn' from teenagers, so I asked where she heard it and she said she read it in a Science magazine she had to read for school. Then I googled it and I found some places that said it is pink and others that said it is not pink. So who knows? I guess the real lesson is that the color of Yaks' milk is disputed. First one to get a Yak and solve the mystery is the winner.

Saturday, Feb 6:
I learned that Paris Hilton has a whole line of hair extensions. You can purchase these at your local Sally Beauty Supply store. I'm speechless, as you are, I'm sure.

Sunday, Feb 7:
One of my oldest and dearest friends is named Aba. She is incredibly driven, intelligent, and talented. She is currently in LA working as an actress. I learned on Sunday that she is starting up a production company! It's called The Ohemaa Project. The project is based on her faith and her vision to use entertainment as a means of empowerment. You can read up on her company here. I am so excited for you, Aba!

Monday, Feb 8:
Another priceless lesson in dating from The Bachelor:

If your mother is freaky, it's best not to introduce her to the guy you're hoping to win as a "potential future husband." She might make him hula-hoop. Or bury an animal she killed with her car. Or talk about reincarnation.
And none of these things adds points to your game.

January is over and my blog is overdue.

It's been one long week, my friends. But I did keep track of what I learned. So here goes:

Monday, Jan 26:
My friend Sheonaid taught me what a yurt is. It's like a hut/tent that is semi-permanent. When I looked it up, I found out they were originally used by nomads in Central Asia. But we also have them here in Colorado in the mountains, if you ever want to use one for camping.
Tuesday, Jan 27:
My sister is doing a report on Ella Fitzgerald, and she taught me some of what she has learned. Ella Fitzgerald had a troubled childhood and an amazingly successful career. But the thing that stuck out most that I didn't know before was that she had both of her legs amputated due to complications with diabetes. I might be a little out of the loop not knowing that, but I'll admit my ignorance anyway.
Wednesday, Jan 28:
Wednesday was a re-learn day. Most of my friends know I'm not a big fan of the being in the gym. I like to exercise outside in the sun and wind and nature. But in Colorado, there are times of the year that it's the gym or nothing. So I was at the gym on my lunch hour, which is unfortunately a pretty busy time for my YMCA branch. And I re-learned another reason why I hate that place.
IT STINKS. Yes, running makes me feel healthy, but exposure to the smell of sweaty people in close proximity is a definite temptation to join the ranks of the sedentary. At least the odor suppresses my appetite, so even if I have to cut my workout short in order to breathe, I can make up for it by skipping my dinner.
I can't wait for spring.
Thursday, Jan 29:
My friend Laura is one of my favorites. She lives in NYC and I am staying with her when I go out there at the end of February. We were talking about all the things to do in New York, and I learned one thing I am unapologetically excited about (in all my nerdiness): The Tenement Museum. I love history. I love learning about the day-to-day in different periods of history. I love seeing old furniture, clothing, houses, and buildings. I love learning about the way things were. So the Tenement Museum is a must-see for me. They conduct tours of an old tenement building. It was built in 1863 and housed thousands of New York immigrant families until it was vacated and boarded up in 1935. It was untouched until 1988 when the Tenement Museum discovered it and restored it to its former glory. I'm probably more excited to see that than I am about seeing Times Square.
Friday, Jan 30:
I learned a few small lessons from a night with friends:
1. The proper pronunciation of the word Curaçao is "cure-a-so," like this.
2. Some people aren't cut out for card tricks.
3. It is possible to spend time with Jared Harp without witnessing a Chris Brown dance routine.
4. Best in Show is still hilarious.
Saturday, Jan 31:
I learned the joy of answered prayers. I had a date with my sister. If you are not a girl with a sister, I'm sorry you'll never know the pleasure of a sisterly bond, but it is a beautiful thing. There are ten years between me and my sister, so when she was little, our relationship was atypical. I was more of a babysitter/third authority figure. But now, she's a teenager. She's heading into high school, and over the past few years, I've been praying about how to navigate the transition between authority-type and sister/friend. It's not been that easy, but it has been worth it. Friday was a really sweet time. We had dinner and a movie and talked about boys and school and real life. I realize I might be biased, but I'm pretty sure I have the best sister ever.
Sunday, Feb 1:
I learned that some things are still embarrassing, no matter how old you are. On Sunday we had fantastic weather, so I went for a run outside. At least, I made it through most of my run. But on the last block back to the house, I definitely took a nice, classic, completely ungraceful face plant. I am blaming it on the downtown sidewalk that is cracked and broken. But I had just run on such a sidewalk for 20 minutes, so there might be more to it. Like me not picking up my feet. Or the gods being against me.
Anyway, I definitely scraped a nice piece of skin off my knee. And I definitely looked around immediately afterward (you always do the look-around when you're embarrassed). The only thing that saved me was the complete state of desolation that befalls most of America from 4pm-9pm on Superbowl Sunday. So there was basically nobody around to see it. Although I'm sure some CC student was looking out the window of their apartment and had a good laugh. All I know is, it still hurts, and I still feel like a kid. Your pity is welcomed.
Monday, Feb 2:
I learned that my friend Allison is now LEED-accredited! Allison is an architect and she has been studying like crazy for the test she took today. The LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) accreditation demonstrates a knowledge of green building: environmentally friendly design and construction with an emphasis on sustainability. Last week, Angela, another good friend of mine, also became LEED accredited. Congrats Al and Angela! I'm proud to know you both. I'll take you out for a celebratory drink at the next possible time. Ange- that means we should wind up in the same state again sometime. ;)

It's Never too Early... Well, Sometimes it is.

Today I learned some valuable lessons about the search for Mr. Right:

1. Introduce yourself. A proper introduction includes your name, where you are from, and how ready you are for marriage.
2. Be honest. It is possible and acceptable to be in love with a man before spending 5 minutes with him. Also, being in love does not require that he know anything about you.
3. Be confident. Find 24 other women to compete with for his affections. He probably won't succumb to anyone else's charms (but if he does, you have every right to be surprised).
4. Set realistic expectations for romance. It is entirely plausible that a first date will include a blimp ride at sunset.
5. Reveal something emotionally charged and deeply personal on your first date. Or during your first conversation.
6. Over-exaggerate all positive qualities he has.
7. If he has a child, explain how much your experience with your nephew has prepared you for motherhood.
8. Preface your (creepiest) statements with the phrase, "I'm not a stalker." You will put him at ease.
9. Tell him you have a secret talent called 'being a good kisser.' Should work like a charm.
10. Cleavage is your friend. And his.

My source? The best in educational programming since Sesame Street.


Ok, ok. So the real lesson? Sometimes the things of lowest quality are the most addictive. True of drugs and television.

I Escaped a Rite of Passage

So, Here's something true and baffling:
I have never in my life created a PowerPoint presentation. Not once. How did this travesty happen? How did I get through all of high school in suburban America without creating a PowerPoint on the Industrial Revolution? How did I squeak through a liberal-arts degree without giving a presentation on religion in Western Civilization? How did I ever survive without Clip Art stick figures pointing to bullet statements? How can I feel right with the world when I've never made a dream-sequence transition to go along with a cartoon sound effect?

And the truth is, it has haunted me. I always thought it was right around the corner, in my next class, or as the next assignment. But the anticipation kept building, and my time never came. Eventually, I gave up hope. And then I began to resent PowerPoint and all its experienced users. Whenever I received a forwarded email with a .ppt extension, I would mutter in disgust, all the while secretly envious that here was yet another person who had done what I could not.

Until now.

Because tonight, I learned how to use PowerPoint. Nay, I taught myself how to use PowerPoint! So watch out. I'm going to be unstoppable now.


Next up, I'll finally watch Star Wars.

Where Work

Several of my friends are in an improv comedy troupe. I usually watch all of their shows, which makes me somewhat of a groupie, but that's a different story.

Over the past year of watching their performances, talking with them about their craft, and even seeing them practice (one member is my roommate), I've learned a lot about the art of improv. I can honestly say there is much more to it than the average observer thinks. Tonight, I went to one of their shows. After the show we all went out to grab some food and Suzanne taught me a new improv term. It's called 'where work.' It refers to the practice of using your actions to illustrate the space and objects in the scene you are acting out. At first, I made the leap to say that where work is like miming, but my roommate Elisa explained that it's more than basic miming, because it involves using your actions to show objects AND the entire space around you. For example, if the scene is about cooking, where work would include the player (actor) using their actions to show the objects they use (the oven, a plate, etc) AND the space they are using (the kitchen). So you might see the actor walking around the imagined kitchen and demonstrating through their actions that the oven is not in the same place as the kitchen sink, and the plates are in a cabinet above their head.

Unfortunately, I didn't take pictures of tonight's improv show, so I made Elisa so a little home-based improv for my picture. Our friend Abbie was visiting, do she joined in the fun. Can you tell what they are doing?

Quotable roommates

On a lazy Saturday morning, after Elisa gets back from morning errands:

Me (after seeing myself in the mirror): "Wow, I look like a trainwreck!"

Elisa: "Well, I look like butt cracks." (**Note: It is unclear why she used the plural form here.)

Me: "Well, at least you look like you've been in public and seen the light of day."

Elisa: "Yeah, but I scared people."

Lessons from Camping

So, I went camping with some friends this past weekend. It was a good time. Great weather, great people, and beautiful scenery. And what's more, we all learned some very important life lessons during our time together. I'd like to take a moment to impart some of that valuable knowledge.

- Beware the ricochet when using a hatchet (Please ask Mr. Cole if you want details).

- Always carry an Army-issue tourniquet (this lesson comes in handy if you neglect to follow lesson # 1).

- Water- resistant is no match for water-proof (especially true of tents and sleeping bags).

- Rocks are not good bedfellows.

- Don't make fun of the over-prepared camper (he's probably the one who has the tourniquet when you need it most).

- Last but not least:
Rule #1: Never talk about Mickey bombs.

Irrationality

So, I realize I have all but abandoned my blog. For the 2 people out there who might actually read it, I apologize.

So, to welcome you back to my world, I have a little story for you.

Today was my last day of work at my current job. Add to that the fact that I have been on vacation all this week until today, and you might be able to predict that it would be a busy day. Well, I'm notorious for having absolutely no concept of how long it might take me to do something, so I thought that the to-do list I made for my last day of work was actually realistic and attainable.
Not at all. We work half days on Fridays at my company, and I had planned on working later until about 2 or 3 to finish everything, but there I was at 8:15pm, still working. I went to the file room (to file things) and on my way back to my office, I look down the hall and I freeze.

There.
Is.
A.
MOUSE
outside my office door!

Now, I think mice are cute in theory, but I cannot stand to see one outside of a cage. I react the same way to spiders. All reason is lost and I am left contemplating whether or not a sudden move by me would cause the creature to jump on me, and if so, does it bite?

So I am standing there, frozen, and I don't know what to do. I mean, my first thought is to flee the scene, but I have to get my car keys to do that, and my keys are in the office, PAST the rodent-gauntlet. So I am thinking about sliding past the mouse into my office and I can't even think about it without having vivid hallucinations of it running over my feet or (gasp!) up my leg! I got goosebumps thinking about it. I tried to talk myself down by thinking about how small it is compared to me, or feeling sorry for it because it's more scared of me than I am of it (are you sure about that?), but none of that mattered. So I did what anyone would do: I started stomping my feet, and then I started yelling.

yep.

I yelled at a mouse today.
I think my exact words included, "Go away!"
...and maybe some other things.

And surprisingly enough, mice don't seem to be affected by yelling, or maybe our office mouse doesn't speak English.
He did not move a muscle. I took baby-stomping steps closer, and finally decided to slip past him as fast as possible into my office. In my mind, he was mere inches from my toes when I did this, but in reality, he was about 2-3 feet away from me. I decided that I didn't want to have to stomp anymore, so I turned on some music really loud and I made a lot of noise finishing the paperwork I was doing. I also scooted my desk chair to where I could look outside my door and see that thing to make sure it didn't come near my office. I was feeling trapped in my own office and trying to plan a grand escape maneuver when I looked at him and noticed he was doing a weird tiny mouse-shuffle movement. He was taking a step away from the door, but doing it in tiny halting movements, sort of like dancing the robot. Under a strobe light. I think he was trying to be sneaky, not realizing that, as a mouse, he doesn't have to try that hard. And also not realizing that I was watching every little jerky movement he made. It was very tedious to watch, and I yelled at him again, but this time I was telling him to just run and get it over with. He still didn't listen.
But finally, when he rounded the corner of the office shredder bin, I felt the rush of relief, for I had FREEDOM again. And then, the rush of self-disdain as I could think clearly again. I generally think of myself as a pretty composed and rational person, but do rational people yell at robot-dancing rodents?

Maybe getting an apartment by myself wasn't the best idea.
What if it has mice?

This is not what Secret Santa means

I read about this story a few days ago and was shocked, amused, and saddened all at once. A Dallas family lost their dog on Christmas Eve, and spent the next few days searching for him.
Then, on New year's Day, they got a letter from a woman explaining that she found their dog and gave it to her daughter as a Christmas present. She also included $20.00 in the envelope. Payment for the dog? Cost of pain and suffering? Money to buy a replacement?

You can read the full letter here.

All I'm saying is, if you can have a person's dog for a mere $20.00, I need to have a long overdue conversation with my neighbors. I've had my eye on their dog for a while now...

And if this is how to get Christmas presents cheaply, I've been doing it all wrong.

Gas

So, how about those gas prices?
Actually, I'm not bringing it up for a debate. Everyone would agree that rising gas prices are a pain in the wallet, and it seems everyone has theories abut why it's happening what and how to change it. All of that is a conversation for a different day.

That said, I saw this cartoon and I liked it. Enjoy!

If you can't laugh at yourself...

So, I had a coffee date with Suzanne this week. We had planned to meet on Thursday evening. Most weeks, I am yawning by 8pm on Thursdays. This particular Thursday, I had had a cavity filled only a few hours prior to our meeting. So, when I was getting ready to head out to Starbucks, I was already red-eyed with exhaustion and my mouth was numb on the right side. I was concentrating on whether or not I was drooling without realizing it. I'm not saying that these conditions are to blame for what happened next, I'm just setting the stage.

So I throw on a fleece and I go to the door where there is a long metal tray filled with shoes for when people walk in the door. I tend to be the member of the household who changes shoes most often, so I have many shoes in this tray. I slip on my shoes, and out the door I go to coffee.

I get there about 5 minutes early and find a table to sit and wait for Suzanne. I'm sitting in typical girl fashion: crossed legs, top foot swinging. I look down at my swinging left foot:



Upon seeing it, this is my thought: "Hmmm, that's funny... I thought I put on the grey (gray?) shoes when I left." I was even a little disappointed because the grey shoes matched what I was wearing better than the black shoe I was seeing. I almost moved on to think about something else, when I suddenly had an instant replay flash through my mind of my right foot stepping into a grey shoe just before leaving the house. Now my thought is this: "No........ Surely not...."
And despite the part of me that screams out not to look, that ignorance is bliss, I force myself to look down at my right foot. This is what I see:



I cannot begin to explain the horror, and perhaps if you had been there you might have seen the physical manifestation of my inner panic. I swear, at that moment, a neon blinking arrow popped up next to my table, pointing directly at my feet. I pulled the 'ol look-around-to-see-who-sees and to my relief, the world at that moment did not seem to care much about my shoe debacle. As it turns out, people go to Starbucks to meet with other people and drink coffee, not to shoegaze and journal about fashion accidents.

I briefly tucked one foot under my rear in an effort to hide my error, but then I just felt like a phony. I decided to suck it up and hope that the other patrons assumed it was crazy shoe day at my work.

And when I got home, I laughed till I cried.