What, Are You 16?

I went to a meeting with ProjectManager, ActingManager, and the other guy for whom I need to come up with a good blog name.

When I walked in ActingManager wasn't there yet, so I jokingly asked, "How's the party?"

"What party?" asked ProjectManager.

"The one you're having in here, right now."

"There's no party. You can't have a party with out beer."

"Sure you can."

"No, you can't. Can you?" His question was directed towards the other guy in the room. "You can't have a party with out beer, huh?"

"I guess." Came the reply. The irony was, the guy he was asking isn't a big drinker.

"You don't need to have beer to have a party. In the last seven years I have been to one party where there was alcohol." I said, appealing to personal experience.

"What, are you 16?" was the snarky retort.

"No, I'm 18. We still can't drink, yet." I replied, hoping to one-up him.

"Oh, well there you have it." He conceded.

Incidentally, he still hasn't scheduled our lunch date. He's in for quite the shock when he learns I don't drink coffee or alcohol.

DreadHead

There is a guy in my office who has dreadlocks. He's really cute. He's from France, which actually surprised me. (There actually seem to be a lot of people from France at our company.) He's also friends with the French guy on my team, so he pops over our way occasionally. Anyway, all of that to say: I think he likes me, but he seems a little shy, and I don't know what to do about it. Oh, and I think he's cute and could easily like him back. If only he'd do something about it!

At the aforementioned bonfire tonight I was just about to head out when he showed up. I chatted with him, briefly, then said my good nights. "Oh? You're leaving?"
"Yeah, I thought I might. Why?"
He seemed to want to ask my to stay, but didn't quite know how, or have the courage to do so. I ended up staying for another half and hour, but he didn't even talk to me. What's the point in that?

Travel Bug

Well, the travel bug has jumped up and bitten me in the butt, yet again.

We had a farewell bonfire tonight for BritishGirl and ActingManager, as they head back to the UK on Friday. It was great fun.

I was chatting with BritishGirl when I announced, "I've decided: I'm going to travel." I didn't have a chance to add, "To Tibet" or "Cambodia" or even "Vancouver" when she piped in, "Come to London before I leave." (She's moving to Vancouver in January) "Have you ever been?"
"No."
"Then come! You'll have a free place to stay. Hey! If you come in September we can go to Greece together!"
And, just like that, I'm going to London for a couple of days, then over to Greece and doing a cruise thing in September. I told her I wasn't sure I could get the time off, so she turned to ActingManager, and said, "Ask ActingManager, right now."
"Hey, can I have September off?"
So, yeah... London, then Greece for a week... about 2 weeks total including travel time. Oh. my. Gosh!!!

I'm so excited!!

People

One thing I absolutely love about the Church is how easy it is to run into old friends. (The down side of this being, naturally, how hard it is to avoid enemies...).

There was a huge activity tonight that I attended. It was a game show night, and ended up being pretty fun. While I was there I ran into a guy I used to have a major thing for. I really could have gone for him, but that wasn't in our stars. As I saw him tonight and chatted with him, ever so briefly, I was reminded of those things I liked about him. He is totally hot! He's super smart. And, he's kind of a geek. You know, in that subtle way that people don't always notice. It's rather cute and makes him slightly vulnerable.

I could just grab him by the ears and *muah* lay one on him.

Yeah, I don't think he feels the same way.

Gifts

I have many talents. One talent I'm particularly pleased with is my gift giving ability. To me, gift giving is an art. A gift doesn't have to be expensive to be perfect, it just has to have thought put into it. Someone could buy me a super expensive present that they had put no thought into and I would like it less than the macaroni necklace I was given. Why? Because the thought and effort really do matter most to me.

I use that principle when giving gifts. I like my gifts to be meaningful to the person to whom I am giving them. I don't want to give someone a gift that absolutely no thought went into. It just doesn't work for me.

For that reason, CuteGayGuy's photocopied and folded-up piece of paper is the perfect gift. He thought of me and something that I would like when he photocopied that book for me. It wasn't as if he went out and bought the original magazine article, he simply gave me a thought. And that, friends, is really what gift-giving is all about.

men, Men, MEN!

Today I got to work and sent out an email to the guy who is borrowing the book I bought so I could lend it to him. We've been having these silly little email exchanges this week. Wednesday he promised me he was going to make some progress on the book, so today I thought I would ask. Heck, it's the only thing I really share with him enough to justify emailing him about, and a girl's got to make do with what she's got. Anyway, so he replied that he hadn't. But it was more than that. His email read (roughly, maybe I'll post it here later):

::sits in shameful silence::

Actually, I was going to, but then my furniture got delivered last night and I spent 3 hours putting it all together and another 2 rearranging rooms.

As an incentive I'll pay you $5 on Monday if I'm not finished with it.

Or maybe $1 a day after Monday that I'm not finished with it, I haven't decided.

I replied with my stream of conscious as I read it:
Oh! Mostly I just want you to enjoy reading it as much as I have. Don't feel bad that you haven't finished, yet.

Furniture! I'm so jealous! I wish I had furniture!

Money... I should lend you books more often.

I said some other funny/witty things, but that's the gist.

I felt sooo clever.

Then, I got up to grab something off the printer and when I returned there was a piece of paper sitting on my desk that hadn't been there before. I looked at it and saw a note written in the margin:

Enjoy -
CuteGayGuy =)

I then took a closer look at what he left me: There was a rock band in the mid 80's who had a major hit song entitled "Granola." About two weeks ago I was wearing their shirt and we had a long conversation about the band and the song. The paper on my desk was a photocopy of an article from some music anthology book that happened to be about said band, and their hit song, Granola. Obviously something he had to extend a bit of effort to find. And, totally sweet!

After that, I popped into BrittishGirl's office (that she shares with the two guys on my team) to ask her something. There was this amazing aftershave/cologne smell in the air, so I asked the single guy if it was his cologne.
"No, I don't wear cologne."
"Aftershave."
"No, I don't use aftershave."
"Smelly deodorant?"
"No!"
"You don't wear deodorant? Sick!"
We both laughed, and that was the end of that.

Later I was at lunch with BritishGirl (who is actually South African, but currently lives in the UK and is visiting for work). She said (out of the blue), "Ok, so the hot project manager's cologne smells so good!"

"Oh? That was his? I was teasing your office mate about it."

"No. It's the hot project manager's." He truly is "yummy" (to use one of her words).

The conversation moved on, and I was telling her about the emails I was exchanging with BookGuy and she asked who I was talking about. She said, "Oh? Is it the guy with the glasses that's always over at your desk?"

"ProjectManager? No!!" (Who is different from the hot project manager. I'd have been all giddy if the hot project manager and I were exchanging silly flirty emails.)

We chatted about BookGuy for a while, then I told her about CuteGayGuy's note. She thought that it was really sweet. Then she started teasing me that he likes me. She's not convinced that he's gay. She thinks maybe he bats for both teams. Uh... no, I'm pretty sure he's gay (my gaydar is practically infallible).

We grabbed out lunches and headed back up stairs to the lunch room. CuteGayGuy was there and we chatted about his gift. I thanked him for it and he said it was from a book he had at home, and he "saw it and was, like, oh my --d!" and so he photocopied it for me.

I laughed and said, "I really like that it was all folded up and in your back pocket on your way into work."

"No, it was folded up and in the pocket of my carry-all. My 'man bag.'" How does she not think he's gay? "And sat next to me on my way into work."

Lunch finished and we headed back to work. BritishGirl continued to tease me about CuteGayGuy.

Back at my desk I went back to work. Later I had to run to a meeting with ProjectManager. The meeting went well, and at the end I jokingly said, "Well, that was fun. We should do it again, sometime."

"Yeah, we should. But not working."

"Sounds perfect!" Hey, I'd have meetings all day if I didn't have to work!

"You want to do lunch next week? Maybe Friday?"

"Sure. Sounds good."

"Great. I'll send you an invite."

As I made my way back to my desk the proverbial light bulb lit up: I was just asked out on a lunch date by my Project Manager! I sat down and immediately checked my calendar. As a quick aside, we use Outlook Calendar (yes, I know. It's not OpenSource, but I don't have a choice) and anyone has access to anyone else's calendar if they want. It makes it really easy to schedule meetings and such. We use it all the time, and I have so many meetings that I have to keep it updated, or I'll never get any work done. The reason I was checking it now, was that earlier in the day when he scheduled our meeting for this afternoon he asked what day was better for me, Monday or Friday and I said Friday, Monday is packed. His reply? Great, I'll check your calendar and schedule it. You're not going to be surprised at what I'm about to tell you, but I'm going to anyway, Friday is the only day next week that I don't have a million things running into and around my lunch hour. Coincidence? Strangely enough, I think not.

But wait! There's more! Act now, and we'll throw in this other completely random experience at no additional charge! That's 5 bizarre events for the price of 4!

Later, later I was sitting at my desk, diligently working away when CuteGayGuy walks up. Why is this odd? Well, for one, he sits on the other side of the building from me. For another, the hallway I sit in is a dead end. There is nothing past our area. Nothing. People often head over into the dead end, looking for a conference room, only to have their hopes dashed. The other odd thing was, he was holding a handful of manila folders. I asked him what was up, and he told me he just needed to get the folders from the supply room (which is right around the corner from me) and thought he'd drop by to say hi. (Ok, who really uses handfuls of manila envelopes anyway?) He made some crack about the paper he had given me along the lines of, "Oh, that's so cool! Where'd you find that?" etc. We chatted for a bit, during which time BritishGirl appeared and we all had a lovely chat before he headed back to his office.

When he was out of ear shot she declared (complete with silly little dance thing) "He totally likes you!"

My cube buddy got all excited and offered her agreement. I replied to both of them, "He's GAY!" my cube buddy was shocked! She hadn't thought about it, apparently, but now that I mentioned it... yeah, she could see that he might be. Might be? The guy practically has a rainbow tattooed on his forehead. He is cute, though.

So, to re-cap today's weird events:

Today I:
Teased my coworker about smelling delicious.
Sent an uber-flirty email to BookGuy
Was given a super thoughtful present from CuteGayGuy
Flirted with CuteGayGuy
Was asked on a lunch date by my project manager, and accepted; and
Had CuteGayGuy go way out of his way to stop by my desk to flirt with me.

It's got to be a conspiracy.

Liar!

Monday I was really feeling the effects of my cold and wasn't sure that I would be going to work the next day. I told my manager this information and explained that I would send him an email if I wasn't going to make it into the office.

"Ok, so you'll work from home?"
"No, my vpn doesn't work." VPN = Virtual Private Network - it makes it so I can work from home as if I were in the office. Super convenient, as you can imagine. Not so convenient when it doesn't work.
"Ok. So why don't you send me a text message if you can't come in. Just save my mobile number in your phone."
"Well, actually, I can't text message from my phone. It doesn't work. I'll just send you an email if I can't come in."
"Ok. If you want to send an email from your personal email. That's fine."
"Ok. Thanks."

I'm not sure he believe me that my text message doesn't work on my phone, but it really doesn't; trust me, it is really annoying.

Tuesday I ended up going to work and had a one on one with him. In the meeting he asked about my vpn and how long it hasn't worked.
"Since I started."
"Oh. Well, you know, there is something else, the dial-up, go to this Web site... Do you need to write this down?"
"Did you say 'dial-up'?"
"Yes."
"So, I need dial-up to use it?"
"Yes."
"I don't have a home phone. I have cable internet — and therefore no need for a home phone line."
"You don't have a home phone?"
"No."

I know he didn't believe me on that one.

I am probably the most low-tech techy one will ever meet. It's true. I just don't see the need for excess. Many of my peers find this befuddling, and that's quite alright by me.

Love

I'm ready to be in love again.

Stream of Conscious

You'll probably want to start at the bottom of today's post and read upwards.

Like Hiking

You never know how important some things are to you until you start doing them again.

Is It Really That Important?

I'm afraid I'll not ever find my eternal hiking buddy.

Details

Middle of Nowhere could be Tibet.

My Real Wish

I want to take a week and go back-packing in the middle of nowhere.

I Don't Think He Understood Me

My new acting manager had a 1:1 with me today to discuss my "wish and [my] work."

My Wish

I wish my job were more interesting.

Salary

All that surfing, and I'm just doing my job.

Web Surfing

I spend about 6-7 hours a day surfing the Web. I've recently spent a lot of time in the outdoors/sportsman type of stores. The remaining time is spent browsing CDs.

Secret

I spent an hour this evening looking at 3-season tents online.

Needs

Now, I need to find a camping buddy.

Book, Trailhead Pass...

I'm going hiking! Hiking I tell you! I bought a book of 55 hikes in the area and an annual trailhead parking thing-a-ma-bob and I'm going hiking sister! I'm a little excited.

Adopted

When I was rather young and impressionable one of my much older and "wiser" cousins told me that my parents found me on the door step as an infant and had felt so sorry for the ugly little baby that no one wanted (and, in fact, they tried fruitlessly to give me away) that they decided to keep me and adopt me.

I burst into tears and ran into the living room to seek comfort from my parents that, no, in fact, I wasn't adopted. Now, let's pause and check the facts:
(1) I'm the only redhead in my family. Both of my parents are brunettes, as are all 4 of my siblings.
(2) My cousin is SIX YEARS older than I, she must know everything.
(3) I didn't really look like any of my siblings (could have a lot to do with the red hair...)
My parents, in stead of offering me the love and support that I needed, burst out laughing. As did my aunt. No denial. By that age I had long learned that lack of denial often means admitting. I was scarred for life.

fast-forward twenty-some-odd years. My mother has never denied my adoption, rather, she laughs every. time. the story comes up. Let's examine some new evidence, however:
(1) I have seen, and have in my possession, copies of my birth certificate indicating that I am, in fact, my parents' child.
(2) I look so similar to my older sister that we often get mistaken for twins.
(3) Black and white photos of me and Mumsy are pretty good evidence that I'm her child (it's harder to get mixed up by hair color and pigmentation).
(4) The cousin in question is as blond as the day is long. And an air head.

Yet, it still bothers me on some stupid level that she has never denied it.

Until tonight. That's right folks! Mumsy finally uttered those words that I've been waiting twenty years to hear: "No. You're not adopted. Unfortunately, you're all mine."

Predictably, I don't feel any different having her admit it (we all knew I wasn't adopted). The good news is: this is one less issue I'm going to have to work out with some shrink someday.

Wall Art

Yesterday I was talking to a guy I know about kids coloring on walls with crayons. I asked Mumsy today if we had ever done that (I couldn't recall doing so, and was pretty sure I never had.). She confirmed that, yes, we had never colored on the walls with crayon. We wondered why this was for a minute, then she reminded me that we had this huge chalk board that we colored on all the time. Ahh... that must be it: the monster chalk board saved all of the walls in our house from the fate of the crayon. Good idea. I'll have to remember it for my kids.

Code

I hab a code. Someone comeb and make me someb soup. Please.

You're FIRED!

No, not me, thankfully. Actually, my boss was fired on Wednesday. While one hates to see anyone lose their job, I can honestly say it was a relief when I found out he was leaving. It has been a long time since someone could make me genuinely uncomfortable so frequently. His jokes were crass, and the way he mocked my religion was unwarranted. I'm relieved he won't be working with me anymore, but I wish him the best of luck wherever he ends up.

Ugly Babies

When I was in college I once had a professor liken the relationship of developer and code thusly: "You spend so much time and effort working on it, that the code is like your baby." He went on to elaborate the relationship of tester to developer, "You're telling the developer that their baby is ugly!" I agree with both statements. Which is why I now have a new wall-hanging on my cube. It reads:

Yes, your baby is ugly.

No, it's not my fault.

I love that no one gets it until I explain it to them. So far none of the developers have asked. I hope that my Secret Office Boyfriend doesn't ask, since he's a developer...

Coffee Shop Art

I'm thinking about contacting one of the coffee houses on the Island and asking them if they would be interested in hanging my artwork on their walls. Before I do that, however, I must first: paint a few more things; and second: take pretty pictures of them all.

Craig's List Ad

So, I posted an ad on Craig's List. Not all that impressive, I know. People do it all the time. What is special about this ad is the contents: I want to go hiking. I want people who want to hike with me. I want people, who want to hike, who are slow hikers to hike with me. I can hardly believe the responses I've received! So far I've heard from 6 people (one is giving me the willies, so I don't think he'll be joining us) who are interested. Yeah, six isn't a huge number, but it's bigger than I expected, especially on the first day!

I'm really excited. I'll let you know how it goes.

Hiking

Saturday brought a Relief Society Enrichment hike. I was super excited to go! It's been quite a while since I've been hiking — mostly because it's hard to find someone to go with, and I hain't going alone!

We met at the Church and drove to Olalie (I think) to hike. It was pouring, and I got soaked clear through. I had a wonderful time. I'm so glad I went.

Here are some pictures I took. It may be hard to believe, but it's hard to get a bad photo. Incredible!

Looking down from the middle of the waterfall. It seemed like the rapids went on forever.


The forest for the trees...

The blossoms were few and far between; but when we saw them, they were breath taking.

Most Romantic Date. Ever.

When ExOfNote and I were dating he came up with a great idea for a romantic date. Late one evening he decided it was time for execution. Neither of us had a car, and since transit was stopped by that time of evening he borrowed his aunt's car. Then, he packed a picnic basket full of stuff I wasn't allowed to see, and off we went.

We ended up at some park in the heart of the city. He parked the car and soon found ourselves traipsing through the night to find the perfect spot. When he determined that we had found the perfect spot I was finally permitted to see what was in the basket. More correctly, I was permitted to hold the basket as things were drawn from it. First came the sheet which went down on the grass. Then, the candles which were to serve two purposes: (1) Uh, hi. It was a "romantic" date! and (2) hold the corners of the sheet down since there was a slight breeze. After the candles came the matches. As he light the candles he invited me to seat myself on the sheet and finish unpacking the basket. A variety of picnic foods emerged: crackers, cheese, etc. We sat there eating and talking and enjoying each other's company and the starry night sky.

After a while the breeze picked up, but neither of us wanted to call it a night. So we decided to wait it out. Soon, the breeze had blown out the candles and we sat there in the dark. Shortly thereafter the breeze went from pleasant to cool to cold. Still, we refused to budge. Eventually, we sat there in the middle of the park with the sheet around us to keep warm. It was then that we determined it wasn't going to cut it and packed it in.

One could say that was a failed date — it certainly hadn't turned out the way he planed — but, it was an amazing success, as it drew us closer together. And, honestly, it was the sweetest date anyone has ever planned for me. For those reasons alone it stands in my mind as The Most Romantic Date. Ever.

Fire!

I was thinking today about the things we (my siblings and I) did as kids. There are three things I don't suppose I will ever fully know the answer to:
1. How did we manage to never burn the house down?
2. How did we survive?
3. How did our parents survive?

Allow me to illustrate with the titles to some potentially wonderful stories. My family will smile fondly at the memories.
a) Frozen Hash Browns are Not Toastable
b) The Green Chair, the Heating Pad, and My First Lesson in Spontaneous Combustion
c) Matches and My Second Lesson in Spontaneous Combustion
d) Glow Sticks (Where by "Sticks" I Mean Those Things That Grown on Trees)

Ok. Now I have to tell them.

Frozen Hashbrowns are Not Toastable
My father's favorite food is potatoes. He is of the opinion that they are their own food group. I'm sure he believes that the Israelites were actually fed potatoes as they wandered the desert. One of the gazillion forms of potatoes he likes are hashbrowns. We almost always had frozen hashbrowns in the freezer growing up. You know the ones that they serve at MickyD's? That kind. Well, being the industrious (and lazy) child that I was, I discovered that a frozen hashbrown can be removed from the freezer and plopped in the toaster — thawing not necessary — push down the lever and minutes later *tada!* perfectly cooked hashbrowns. An added bonus was they were less greasy than when you cooked them on the stove.

Being kind and generous (in addition to industrious) I shared this knowledge around. Mumsy was actually quite proud of my discovery. It rapidly became the way to cook hashbrowns. Want a hashbrown? Toast it! One morning we were gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, waiting as Mumsy toasted our hashbrowns, when all of the sudden the toaster caught on fire! She quickly grabbed the baking soda and doused the flames. Tragically, two things came out of that: an unusable toaster, and the realization that hashbrowns are not toastable! (For the curious, the grease from all of those hashbrown had dripped down into the catch plate, and built up until they were close enough to the filament that when it got hot it lit the grease on fire.)

The Green Chair, the Heating Pad, and My First Lesson in Spontaneous Combustion
We had an ugly green reclining chair in our living room. We also had a heating pad. It was highly desirous to be the one sitting in the ugly green chair with the heating pad. Especially in the winter.

One autumn day my brother was the one lucky enough to have the chair/heating pad combination as we played in the living room. The play eventually moved to other parts of the house, and hours later we discovered, in a rather shocking way, that he had, apparently, left the heating pad on! The discovery was made when we heard that familiar sound of something catching on fire and ran into the living room to see what that something was. When we saw the flames hungrily eating away at the ugly green chair we sprang into action. My sisters and brother hauled the chair out to the front yard while I dashed to the kitchen to get the backing powder I had seen Mumsy use (ever so recently) to douse an unnamed kitchen fire *cough*toaster*cough*. I ran out side after them and poured the baking powder all over the seat of the chair - or rather, the cavern in the chair where the seat used to be - and any other place the flame had touched.

We waited nervously for our parents to get home. When they did there was no use hiding what had happened. The chair was decidedly not in the living room, and was quite visibly residing in its new home in the front yard; there was white powder leading a trail from the kitchen to said chair; and there was a cavern in the middle of the new "lawn chair". When asked we told the story just like it happened. When we reached the end I was sure we were going to get the proverbial "it". Instead, Mumsy seemed almost proud of our actions. I guess her rationale was: how were we supposed to know the heating pad would spontaneously combust? And, at the end of the day, we had reacted in the smartest way possible, considering the circumstances. She now knew for a certainty exactly how we would react in case anything in the house ever caught fire.

Matches and My Second Lesson in Spontaneous Combustion
For those of you who are unsure if I come by my granola nature honestly, let these next two stories assure you that I have.

Growing up we lived in a very cold place. The kind of place where it snows in the winter. A lot. The kind of place where the schools would have snow days because the buses couldn't make it up the mountain. We also had no central air/heating. Our central heating came in the form of a wood burning stove. Not a fire place, a stove. There is a difference. Fire places are pretty and for decoration. Wood burning stoves are for heat and cooking on top of. We used our stove all winter long. You could always tell if someone was home based on how much smoke was coming out of the chimney.

One night I was asked to light the fire while everyone else helped get dinner on the table, and so I did. It wasn't much of a task, really. I guess you could say it would be akin to asking the kid to turn up the thermostat. It was easy, it was route, we could probably do it in our sleep. This time, however, I did something I had never done before: I put the (full) box of matches on top of the stove and headed into the kitchen for dinner.

Ten minutes into dinner we heard the most amazing sound. I don't think I could describe it, except to say, it sounded like 500 matches all being lit at once. When we investigated the problem we discovered that there was a reason it sounded like that. It would appear, that setting matches on top of a wood burning stove is not quite the best way to go about storing them. I don't remember how we put it out. Maybe water, but that seems too dangerous, since you wouldn't want scalding water flying off the stove. Perhaps it was a bucket of sand... Frankly, Mumsy or Dad put it out, so I don't know.

Needless to say, we never left matches on the stove again.

Lastly:
Glow Sticks (Where by "Sticks" I Mean Those Things That Grown on Trees)
When camping we were allowed to light the end of sticks on fire, blow out the flame, and play with the glowing end of the stick in the night air. So long as all activity remained in the cleared area immediately around the fire, and was relatively safe.

I don't think Mumsy ever knew that we used to do it at home, too. In the house. With all the lights off for a better effect.


There you have it folks four little stories that all point to the leading three questions. The biggest one being: How did we never burn the house down?

Things I Miss

Today was a "things I miss" day. More so than any other day I've had in a long time. With that in mind, here's the list of things I miss — enjoy:

Having my hair played with while watching a movie.
Someone to watch a movie with.
Being dragged to chick-flicks.
Having my butt randomly grabbed and being shocked every time.
Having a reason to rush home from work.
Cuddling.
Holding hands.
Sneak-attack kisses.
Phone conversations about nothing that last hours.
Phone calls for no reason.
The comfort associated with a given scent.
The dorky way he walks.
The way he would put his arm under my chin - around my neck - and hold me close to him while we stood around talking to people.
Emails to say I love "you".
Miner's lettuce.
Long-needle pine trees.
Camping so long you think you'll never get clean.
The smell of a camp fire.
Roasting marshmallows.
Knowing that there is a 98% chance the person you're talking to believes the same things as you.
Knowing that there is a 98% chance that the unmarried guy you're checking out is actually date-able.
No longer needing a reason to call.
Board game nights.
Hugs.
Not feeling dorky for shaking hands with someone on the first date.
The "mormon smile".
Having someone who knows I'd be interested in that article about the latest news on the md5 crack.
Having him send the email with "Thought you'd be interest in this" in the subject and the link as the entire text.
Cute boss.
Respecting my boss.
Loving my job.
Looking forward to going to work in the morning.
Wanting to stay at work longer.
Windy roads up long mountains.
Flat-landers.
A gear shift.
Free parking.
Not having to lock the door at night.
A porch.
Cello lessons.
Salon Selective shampoo.
St. Ive's shampoo.
Long fingernails.
Unreal.
Deep religious conversations spent learning more by speaking and listening.
Teaching Sunday School.
Programming.
Being challenged at work.
Writing poetry.
Being serenaded over the phone.
Being bored by conversations about things I don't really care about, but wanting to be near him, so putting up with it.
Knowing he's bored by my conversations about things he doesn't really care about, but wanting to be near me so he puts up with it anyway.
Arguing about whether or not "anyways" is a word. It's not.
Artsy friends.
Granola friends.
Friends.
Being surrounded by brilliance.
Working on interesting - bleeding edge - technology.
Breaking networks.
School.
Learning.
Growing.
Twice monthly pay-checks.
A lower tax-bracket.
$55 massages.
My massage chick.
Straight blocks.
Knowing my way around.
Jerusalem.
Israel.
Discovering new things with someone.
Talking art with someone.
Non-awkward silence.
Decent radio stations.
That homus shop we found in Jerusalem.
Going to the Temple whenever the mood strikes.
My family.
My childhood.
Geeks.
The Bombay House.
Having someone cook dinner for me.
Cooking dinner for someone else.
Roommate drama (but, only because it was funny).
Sleeping in.
Working out.
Getting up early.
My head before migraines.
My mouth without the retainer.
The stars.
A couch.
A coffee table.
Real furniture.
Someone I could call up at any time and go over to their house and talk with them.
Snow.
Small town.
Tall trees.
Big rocks.
Exploring the woods.
Playing in the creek.
Not worrying about drinking water from the creek.
Knowing what "you're always down stream from a bear" really means.
Sore legs from long hikes.
Hiking.
Camping.
Real camping.
Digging a pit.
Being in love.
Being loved.
Loving.
Giving.
Wanting to give.
Complete and utter comfort in the relationship.
Cheap produce.
That look.

I could probably go on and on, but this list is already pretty long. So, that's it for me tonight. Sleep well.

Why I am a Dork

Friday a guy who works on the same floor as I (who is majorly cute, and with whom I flirt incessantly) dropped by my desk to chat about work. The conversation lasted quite a while, and took many different tangents. One which I shall eventually get around to posting because it is rather interesting. It, however, does not apply to the current topic. The tangent which I wish to discuss with you today is: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy or, HHGTTG, for those in the know. It seems he has never read it. I talked it up (Uh, I love it!) and offered to lend him my copy. He sounded excited and said he'd like that.

When I got home Friday night I discovered that I no longer have it. (I think I may have given it to ExOfNote.) So, what do I do? Instead of just telling him I don't have it I went out and bought a new one so I could lend it to him. My justification? I was seriously bummed that I didn't have it anymore, and really did want it, and it was only 7 bucks. The truth? I'm a dork.

15, if a Day

The bus ride home tonight was about 3 times as long as usual. Why? You ask (ok, I'm assuming you ask). Simple. Apparently, today was the opening game for the pro-baseball team we have here in town. Suck.

As I rode through the longest 7 blocks of my life I sat crammed in the back of the bus listening in on the conversation of my fellow bus passengers (and trying hard, at points, to not). Relatively early on in the bus ride a young man got on and joined his two friends sitting next to me. "Dude! Where's your home-girl at?" He asked his buddy's girlfriend. They exchanged information back and forth before she determined who he was talking about. "Yea. Her. I'd totally do her!" (Where "do" here is a polite euphemism for the word he used which was neither polite, nor a euphemism) "Do you know how old she is?" He was quizzed. After a bit of discussion between Dude! and his girlfriend the conclusion was drawn that she is 16. Not having had the chance for a good look I assumed they were all late teens (18 or 19), and her being 16 was putting a damper on his desire to "do" her. I was wrong, "I'd still do her!" Great. I was looking forward to listening to this for the next hour.

After a bit I got bored and pulled my latest craft project out of my pocket (I'm stringing some beads for a skirt I'm making) and got to work. A few short minutes later our friend reached over and tapped my knee, "Excuse me?" He said in a nice juxtaposition from his previous dialogue, "What's that you're working on?" I looked him full in the face (quickly determining that he was 15 (at the oldest), so the 16 year old comment was that she was an "older chick", I suppose.) and told him what I was up to. His buddy turned to his girlfriend and asked, "Why don't you ever make your own clothes?" The conversation ensued. After a long while he tried talking to me again chatting me up: "You gettin' off work?"
"Yeah."
"You ride this bus every day?"
"Generally."
"Is it always this packed?"
"Not always."
"You work in Seattle?"
"Yup."
"You stayin' in Bellevue."
"Nope."
"Where you stayin'?"
"Mercer Island."
and on and on and on. Finally the bus reached my stop and I got up to leave. As I was pushing my way through the crowd I heard his buddy tell him, "Dude, she's so not into you." Uh, yeah. And, even if I were, what's he expecting: "Hi, here's my number... call me when you hit 18."? Puh-leeze.

General Conference Weekend

General Conference is this weekend. I'm super excited and hope to be able to listen/watch the whole thing on the internet. If you want to join me it's 10am MDT, and can be found here. Note, you'll have to use IE, no Firefox support quite yet.

Have a good weekend. I'll be posting some thoughts and such in regards to conference soon enough.