Age Ain’t Nothing But a Number…And Apparently So is My Name May 16, 2008

Today I was out running errands and the oddest thing happened.  The bank teller actually said my name when he had finished my transaction, as in “Ok Nandango, is there anything else I can do for you today?”  Maybe you live in a nice, quaint town where people use names regularly or people are just nicer where you live but I never hear someone use my name.  It caught me off guard and for the briefest, fleeting moment I wasn’t sure if he was still talking to me or had one of those mini android phones in his ear.

As I walked out I thought about why this had been so strange to me and discovered that I use numbers in place of my name all the time.  After saying hello at the bank the first thing I do is begin rattling off my account number.  And depending on what it is I need to take care of I could be using upwards to 4 different accounts.  Today was no different. 

Then I went over to the doctor’s office to pay a bill.  They wanted to verify my phone number, address, date of birth, social security number, double check the the check number & amount, and the invoice number.  And I’m pretty sure that when I had the appointment and handed over my insurance card it was the number they were looking for.  After the doctor I went over to an employee store where I’m known only by my employee number rather than name.  And to consolidate my student loans required the same info plus the loan numbers and driver’s license number.  I even find that when I’m doing some tasks at church it’s more valuable to produce my church membership record number rather than my name.

Need help in a busy place (like the DMV)?  Guess what - take a number.  Need to pay for purchases in a store?  Swipe your card because they’re really interested in your credit card number and expiration.  Going on a trip?  Well, at the airport you’re known as the passenger in 16 C.

So indeed it was a bit of a surprise to hear my name but you know what?  I kind of liked it.

Been a While…Who Are You Again? May 15, 2008

I admit that I was slow in coming but eventually joined in on the technological bandwagon and am the proud owner of a Myspace page, Facebook page, and blog.  At first I couldn’t get enough of Myspace and all free time was spent perusing through profiles.  Then came Facebook.  I joined Facebook to “keep up” with those friends who didn’t have Myspace.  But my interest in both have waned.  I do however think the blog will keep my interest sparked.

For the past few months both my Facebook and Myspace pages have been mostly dormant.  Then out of the blue I started receiving messages and friend requests from the most random people.  After shuffling through the weirdos and freaks on Myspace, I linked over to Facebook to see who my requests were from.  Former high school alumni.  Now you may be wondering, “What’s so strange about that?”  What’s strange is that I haven’t talked to any of the five of them since the 7th grade.  And we’ve been graduated for 11 years.  Come to think of it, I’ve never spoken to two of them before in my life even though I think we MIGHT have had some classes together at some point.  And all five of them were in the “popular click” in school while I was…well I was not.  I wasn’t really anything in high school which is the best position to find yourself.

Being an analyzer (and incredibly bored at work) I took a look at my five people and this is what I’ve noticed:

 

5 people

3 girls

2 guys

girl #1 is single,  girl #2 and #3 are married

guy #1 is single,  guy #2 is married

all 5 have 100 or more friends listed on their page

 

Conclusion:  No matter sex or marital status, the most important thing is to have as many people as possible listed as collector’s items friends on your page.

I don’t get this.  I thought the point of both pages was to stay in contact with people you actually want to stay in contact with.  People you know.  Maybe they can’t help it, after all they were part of the cool, popular crowd.  Maybe having people around all the time is something they’re indoctrinated with.  Or maybe they just have me confused with someone else. 

 

 

 

A Little Late but Still Applicable May 13, 2008

New Rules For 2008 

 

New Rule: Stop giving me that pop-up ad for classmates.com !  There’s a reason you don’t talk to people for 25 years.  Because you don’t particularly like them!? Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days–mowing my lawn.

 

New Rule: Don’t eat anything that’s served to you out a window unless you’re a seagull.  People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy’s chili.  Hey, it cost less than a dollar.  What did you expect it to contain?? Trout?

 

New Rule: Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently damaged.  I have a better description for these kids: lucky bastards.

 

New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you’re a dope.  If you’re a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols.  If you’re a grown man, they’re pictures of men.

 

New Rule Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone.  Here’s how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them? Okay, we’re done.

 

New Rule: There’s no such thing as flavored water.  There’s a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket, water, but without that watery taste.  Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink.  You want flavored water?  Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt.  That’s your flavored water.

 

New Rule: Stop screwing with old people.  Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that’s square, with a bigger label.  And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.

 

New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the asshole.  If you walk into a Starbucks and order a “decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one sweet-n’-Low, and one NutraSweet,” ooh, you’re a huge asshole.

 

New Rule: I’m not the cashier!  By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing “Enter,” verifying the amount, deciding no, I don’t want cash back, and pressing “Enter” again, the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy.

 

New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn’t make you spiritual.  It’s right above the crack of your ass.  And it translates to “beef with broccoli.”  The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren’t pregnant.  You’re not spiritual.  You’re just high.

 

New Rule: Competitive eating isn’t a sport.   It’s one of the seven deadly sins.  ESPN recently televised the U.S. Open of Competitive Eating, because watching those athletes at the poker table was just too damned ex citing. What’s next, competitive farting???  Oh wait!?  They’re already doing that. It’s called “The Howard Stern Show.”

 

New Rule: I don’t need a bigger mega M&Ms.  If I’m extra hungry for M&Ms, I’ll go nuts and eat two.

 

New Rule: If you’re going to insist on making movies based on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what’s playing on the other screens.  Let’s remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is that the idea wasn’t good enough to be a movie.

 

New Rule: No more gift registries.  You know, it used to be just for weddings.  Now it’s for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab.  Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn’t gift giving, it’s the white people version of looting.

 

New Rule: and this one is long overdue: No more bathroom attendants.  After I zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex with George Michael.  I can’t even tell if he’s supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish.  I don’t want to be on your web cam, dude.  I just want to wash my hands.

 

New Rule: When I ask how old your toddler is, I don’t need to know in months.  “27 Months.”  “He’s two,” will do just fine.  He’s not a cheese.  And I didn’t really care in the first place.

 

New Rule: If you ever hope to be a credible adult and want a job that pays better than minimum wage, then for God’s sake don’t pierce or tattoo every available piece of flesh.  If so, then plan your future around saying, “Do you want fries with that?” 

Good for a Chuckle May 13, 2008

For my job I scan images all day long.  I’ve seen just about all there is to see from truly beautiful photographs to the grotesque (like the 4,000+ slides of dental surgeries in progress…barf).  But every once in a while I come across one that gives me a good laugh.  Kudos to the photographer that had their camera handy.

 

Tiptoeing Through the Tulips May 6, 2008

On Sunday I went to a park near my house to go walking.  Every year they plant these beautiful tulips and every year I forget my camera.  This year I remembered!

   

   

   

   

   

Church Menu May 5, 2008

For those of you not familiar with the term a single’s ward, it breaks down to a church for single people ages 18-30 respectively.  I attend one of these and have since I was 18 more or less.  It’s aim is to be a place where you can meet and hang out with people your own age with similar interests and despite what those in charge say, it’s main objective is to marry you off.  There are all sorts of inside jokes and cliches attached to the single’s ward.  One of these is the ward menu, aka the church directory.

Like any church directory, it’s primary function is supposed to provide information that will help others get to know you (name, phone number, email, and picture).  But in the single’s ward, other than being a great stalking tool, it has become a way for everyone to check everyone else out in the comfort of their own home.  One is able to scroll through the pages and determine who they like and with whom they would like to meet and try out (go out with)- hence the idea of a menu.

For years I’ve managed to not have my picture as part of the menu.  Sometimes I move in after it’s been put together and printed out, sometimes I move out before it’s put together, and sometimes I make it a point to avoid the camera.  When I moved and started this new ward I’m in, they already had one so once again I managed to fall through the cracks so to speak.  A few months later, they decided to put together a new one.  Try as I might, I was unsuccessful in avoiding the camera.  After the picture was taken, the girl asked if I wanted to see it.  I said no because I knew no matter what it looked like I would hate it, so better not to look.

This was back in January.  Fast forward to yesterday.  I had completely forgotten about the directory.  Then yesterday they announced that it was finally put together and please take a copy after the meeting.  I took one and actually forgot to look at it until last night.  For working on it all this time, it was lacking.  There were only pictures with names and no other information.  And all the pictures were black and white and tiny.  Noticing that, I actually felt a little relieved.  Then I opened to my picture.  Like the others, it was small, black and white.  And it was also grainy.  But for some reason it was also taken a little closer up than most of the others.  Not to mention the day the picture was taken, I was wearing a cream turtle neck and had to stand in front of a white wall.  So the end result is… a large floating head!  Lovely.  I guess I’m to blame since it’s my big head and I didn’t look at the picture afterwards.  But really people?  You didn’t notice that? 

Without skipping a beat, I did exactly what I hate the most about the directory and flipped to find who I will refer to as GP (genetically perfect), only to discover that GP somehow managed to have a perfect picture.  In added mockery the directory gods said, “Not only will we give you an over inflated, floating head for a picture, we will give GP a GQ snapshot and you will have as a reminder that the directory is as close as the two of you will ever get.  BWAHAHAHA!!”  Thank you directory gods. *sigh* Thanks a lot.

Breaking and Entering May 2, 2008

On the way to work this morning I was listening to the radio giving an account of a home invasion.  I  missed where it took place but following that story they told of a break-in in Ohio where a 13 year old girl, home sick from school, hid under her bed while some burglars ransacked the house.  It ended happily because the girl called and sent text messages to her mom who called 911.  And these stories reminded me of this crazy story that happened here in Utah a few months ago:

 

A woman hiding in a closet from burglars was shocked when they opened the doors — not once but twice — and never saw her.

The 911 tape from the incident runs for about 13 minutes. It felt like forever to the young woman hiding in the closet in her West Jordan home. But she had a calm, collected 911 operator helping her through it.

“Please hurry,” 21-year-old Brittney said during the 911 call. The operator asked, “Can you hear anybody downstairs?” Brittney answered, “Yes.”

Brittney made the call yesterday. Police say three men rang her doorbell, and when no one answered they let themselves in. The intruders smashed in the window, climbed inside and headed upstairs to see what they could find, all while Brittney was home.

“It’s almost surreal. I can’t even comprehend the feelings,” Brittney told us today.

 

As the burglars got closer, she hid in an upstairs closet. At one point on the 911 recording, the burglars are heard arranging for a ride. “You get closer yet by chance? Because we’ll be ready in like, maybe 10 minutes,” one of them said.

John Fitisemanu was the operator on the other end of the 911 call. “It got pretty intense at times during the call,” he told us.

One of the burglars, looking for stuff to steal, opened the closet where Brittney was hiding. “I was just standing right there. He pushed it open and was bumping into my legs, my boots,” she said.

Fitisemanu is heard on the 911 tape telling Brittney, “I do have some officers in the backyard and on the corners of your house.”

The burglars spotted police and scrambled. One jumped into the bedroom closet, inches from Brittney. “He was standing right there. I could have kissed his cheek if I’d stood on my tippy toes,” she said.

She stayed still and silent until officers entered the bedroom. Then Brittney said, “He’s in here!” Police ordered him out of the closet. “He looked at me with a completely dumbfounded expression, like, ‘Where’d she come from?’” Brittney explained.

 

The three were taken into custody without further problems. Today Brittney met John, the man who kept her calm during those tense minutes.

“I felt OK. Being on the phone with someone helped,” she said.

The suspects, Adam Cloward, Jake Hampton and Tony Cone, are in jail on charges of aggravated burglary, theft and criminal mischief. Police say they found two knives and brass knuckles on the suspects.

Brittney says she feels incredibly lucky. She chose not to give us her last name for this story.

 

Now this is an amazing story and thank goodness it had a happy ending.  And in no way do I want to lessen the seriousness this girl was in.  Maybe because it ended well I allow myself this one chuckle.  When I’m at home visiting my mom, I have found that I really enjoy jumping out from around the corner and startling my unsuspecting mother.  Is this cruel?  Yes.  Is her reaction funny?  Yes.  So, it’s a toss up and I lean toward the funny.  It began innocently enough when I would walk into her room and call out her name to ask her a question and being completely unaware she would give such a reaction that I just couldn’t resist from then on.  Sorry mom, but really you have only yourself to blame.

So, I can’t help but think of how funny it probably was (in hindsight of course!) when this girl yelled out with the burglar, adrenaline pumping from the prospect of cops raiding the house, standing mere inches away.  I bet he piddled in his pants just a little.

What’s it Worth to You? May 1, 2008

On CNN (I know, I know.  I keep referring back to CNN but it’s my fall back for blog topics) there was an article saying that a man bought 130 million year old dinosaur poop for $960.  So I’m thinking, What do you need with old poop? and why is research money (which I’m sure somehow I’m paying for) and time being wasted on studying poop?  And the poop of a species that has ceased to exist for millions of year no less!  And how do they know it’s really dinosaur poop?  Or poop at all for that matter?  The article says that it looks like a rock on the outside and a colorful mineral on the inside.  Maybe that’s exactly what it is.  How would you go about finding dinosaur poop anyway?  And when you found it, would you be able to identify it on the spot?  I mean, now I wonder how many times in my life I’ve kicked what I thought was a clump of dirt or a rock when in fact it very well could have been dinosaur dung.  Imagine the collection I could have!  And imagine what it would be worth today if some guy was willing to shell out almost $1000 for just one clump!

Then I really got to thinking.  What object would I be willing to bid $960 on in an auction?  And you know what?  Nothing.  I can’t think of a single thing that I would be willing to bid on for $960.  Nevermind a bid on old dinosaur poop.  Talk about a waste being flushed down the crapper!

I Think Something’s in the Water! April 28, 2008

This was kind of a bizarre weekend for me.  Saturday I woke up with this foreign urge to go shopping - for clothes!  It was so strange but I found myself in the mall, which next to being in Walmart, is my own personal hell.  But it actually wasn’t too bad.  Then the really weird part.  Not only did I find clothes I liked and they fit but I actually bought them!!  In all total I spent about $120 on 6 tops and a pair of capris.  Not too shabby.  Plus 4 of the shirts can be worn casual with jeans/capris or dressed up with a skirt and if I owned any, dress pants.  So I can wear them both to work and church. And the entire shopping excursion took place in the span of about 2 hours.  Plus I came away with clothes that don’t have holes in them, are stylish and current, and don’t make me look like a 14 year old skater throw back from the 90’s - score!

Then on Sunday I had this weird desire to bake.  WHAT??  Yeah I know!  And more bizarre still is that I had the ingredients to make a cake, brownies, fudge, apple tort, or these cream cheese cookie dough brownie things.  I didn’t necessarily want to eat any of it (I’m undoubtably certifiable) I just wanted to make it.  So I remembered that there is a church BBQ tonight and the girls were asked to bring desserts while the guys are bringing the main food.  And I decided to 1) actually go to this thing which is another thing I hardly ever do and 2) take homeade desserts while I know the rest will all be store bought cookies.  So I made both the fudge and cream cheese dessert.  Yes, I’m really beginning to believe there’s something in the water I’ve been drinking!!

Where Do I Sign Up? April 28, 2008

I’m not postmenopausal but I am under the age of 70 - does that still count?  Maybe I’ll have to conduct my own research!