Creativity Escapes Me

I meet people for lunch.

2008-12-22T12:38:00.001-07:00

I must be growing up.

Dang.

Actual Work

2008-12-11T14:26:00.002-07:00

For starters, my job is to make sure what people are donating to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints matches what the ward clerk says they donate and what the bank gets. I also need to research other things like why banks make adjustments to deposits because addition is wrong on the clerk's part. There are a myriad of reasons why I can keep my job.

On that note.

Today, I received an email asking why a ward (let's call it Smith Ward) was out of balance for 2006. I, having very little knowledge about the financial system, went and asked for help from a co-worker. We looked at the statement and found that, yes, the Smith Ward had extra money in 2006. But where did it come from? We looked at ward statements, reports, and correspondence between us and the ward for about an hour. We found that, yes, the ward was credited twice. The problem lies with the amount of time it took the clerk/bank to find the funds and deposit them and the fact that it happened over the end of a fiscal year. Here is the email I sent to them:

(Insert name here),

We found the issue.

The original deposit was in May 2006. The $(insert amount here) was lost. It was found later that year and the bank credited our account $(insert amount here) in December 2006 and we matched it off with a Teller Entry in February 2007. In the meantime, the ward noticed $(insert amount here) was missing and filed a lost funds report. We matched the May 2006 deposit with the lost funds case, which reimbursed the ward rounding up to the nearest dollar; therefore, crediting the ward twice. As far as we can tell, the ward didn't notice the original deposit was found and credited. This is why there was a duplication of funds. (Insert boss's name here) reversed a duplicate credit and that will show up on the December statement. If you have any questions you can give them a ring.

Thanks!
Allison
Senior Accounting Clerk
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints
Bank Concentration
(insert contact info here)

Now, this made me feel very proud. I was excited to find out that I got to help this ward find out why they were out of balance.

Do not procrastinate the day of your argument. Actual events that took place during the evening of 19 NOV 2008.

2008-11-20T08:12:00.003-07:00

5:30 PM - Get to class and be super bored because I hate my teacher and will never take a class from her again.
7:05 PM - Leave class early to go get ready for a shindig put on by a friend of mine I haven't seen in about three years. Shower, hair done (this will come into play later).
8:30 PM - Arrive at shindig with Dr. Pepper in hand and none of the Mormon prudes drink it unitl the popular roommate with the Black Berry who answers his phone while someone (namley the guy that was invited because Roy sits next to him in Priesthood) is talking to him gets there and pours himself a snifter.
10:00 PM - Leave dreadful shindig being reminded that I need to get out of Utah and head home. Grab my computer.
10:07 PM - Arrive at the Coffee Garden because it's cheaper to write papers there than at Dee's.
10:55 PM - Get kicked out of the Coffee Garden because it's time for them to close. I'm only done with about half of my paper. Recall that there is another coffee shop on 400 South.
11:06 PM - Arrive at Coffee Break. Begin to finish my paper.
1:00 AM - Leave Coffee Break only for the sheer fact that I should've brought my computer into the coffee shop with me.
1:04 AM - Arrive at home. Get my computer out of my case, turn on my television and begin typing my paper while watching the South Park episode about the Emo kids.
1:30 AM - South Park episode ends and I spend five minutes trying to find some ambient noise by channel surfing.
1:35 AM - Figure out there isn't going to be anything on that will distract me enough to finish typing my paper so I turn on classical music that my sister put on my iPod before I went to Afghanistan.
2:48 AM - Finish typing my paper. Lenghth - eight pages.
2:49 AM - Set alarm clock for 6:00 AM.
2:50 AM - Remove contacts.
2:51 AM - Get into bed and suddenly realize the tea I'd been drinking all night had caffiene in it.
3:20 AM - (assumed) Fall asleep.
6:00 AM - Jolted out of my dream state by the beeping of my $80 a month clock and promptly hit snooze.
6:10 AM - Jolted out of my dream state by the beeping of my $80 a month clock and remember that I took a shower before the shindig and promptly hit snooze.
6:20 AM - Jolted out of my dream state by the beeping of my $80 a month clock and promptly hit snooze.
6:30 AM - Jolted out of my dream state by the bepping of my $80 a month clock and get out of bed.
6:32 AM - Normal bathroom things.
6:45 AM - Press skirt I wore the night before.
6:50 AM - Get dressed and eat some breakfast.
7:02 AM - Get into my car and head to the Ballpark Trax Station where I swear I saw Rich (my stupid ex-boyfriend).
7:17 AM - Get on the train.
7:30 AM - Arrive at the City Center Trax Station.
7:41 AM - Arrive at my desk with plenty of work to do today and regretting that I wore the same outfit I wore to two coffee shops last night. I smell like coffee.
8:04 AM - Wondering how long it will take for me to hit the wall.

Jake of the Web

2008-10-21T12:59:00.001-06:00

I didn't know there were so many ways to put your hands on your face.

A Work of Fiction

2008-10-15T09:52:00.002-06:00

Melissa woke up on a sunny, summer Saturday morning. It was early. She was going to do some service work with her local church group. She was always excited to do service because it helped her realize that there are others out there besides her. This Saturday was a different Saturday. One of her dear, long-time friends, Mitch, was coming home from more than a year and a half of service with the Peace Corps. Melissa was captivated by his energy. There was a glow about him. She thought he was never thinking of himself. This was actually artificial and she refused to see its artificiality. While he was in the Peace Corps they corresponded through the mail. She thought this was very different because there is time, energy, and money involved in putting a letter in the mail. It seemed more personal but little did she know 18 months of ink and rising stamp prices would mean nothing to Mitch.

In anticipation of seeing Mitch again, Melissa went to the local record store and purchased an album for him to enjoy. She figured he’d been out of civilization for a while and he needed to be caught up on some of the current sounds. There was a particular band that dropped an album just in time for summer. Some of the current singles have completely blown Melissa’s mind. Besides, the album cover was a piece of art by the Romantic artist Eugene Delacroix. She figured she couldn’t go wrong.

Mitch was giving a lecture on his experience the next day. Melissa went with gift in hand. He did very well. His time in the Peace Corps, she thought, really mellowed him out. She went forward to give him his gift. She shook his hand and he invited her to a champagne brunch with him and his family. Unfortunately, Melissa already had plans for the day but told him she could pop by later that evening.

She knocked at his door at around 7:00 PM. He was dressed in extremely casual clothing, even pajamas. Melissa wished she would’ve changed from her business casual but she had no choice. She sat on the couch with him and asked for stories. He talked about all the people he worked with and he mentioned all his partners he had while in the Peace Corps. As Mitch flipped through pictures on his digital camera he pointed out to Melissa who everyone was and the story behind each particular picture. She was very impressed with all the experiences he had. The next thing she knew it was 9:30. As Mitch was walking her to the front door he asked her if she would like to go see a popular acoustic guitar player later that summer. She agreed. How could she not? She was feeling a connection with Mitch and this connection was made even further when he hugged her and didn’t let her go.

The following weeks were filled with long phone conversations and multiple text messages. Within this correspondence Melissa and Mitch discussed goals, religious beliefs, schooling, discipline styles, politics, and much, much more. These conversations culminated with an invitation put to Melissa to meet Mitch’s family. Not just a Saturday night with cocktails and sarcastic conversation. This involved a weekend with the extended family. In hindsight, Melissa read too much into it. She also knew she was overanalyzing it. She’s a woman, after all.

After the marathon that was Mitch’s family, Melissa decided to invite him to meet her family. She sensed a bit of reluctance yet he obliged. She felt he was just trying to return the favor, pay it forward. Following a rare rib steak, steamed asparagus, and three glasses of Chardonnay they bid farewell to Melissa’s family and he took her home. She knew what was coming: the never ending hug. Melissa liked being close to Mitch. She felt safe with him. Everyone in their family was turning a blind eye to who they felt Mitch really was. Melissa felt she could look past the imperfections that her brother and sister saw in him; namely the attitude of superiority Melissa’s sister felt he had. After his 18 month absence, Melissa recognized that her sister was right. Her first impression after his speech was dead wrong. The Peace Corps didn’t mellow him out at all.

Somewhere along the line there was a voicemail left on Melissa’s cell phone letting her know that a band in her top five was touring with the popular acoustic guitar player. This made her even happier. Being able to see one of her favorite bands was a small price to pay.

Throughout the weeks between the marathon weekend with Mitch’s family and the acoustic guitar show, Melissa’s communication with Mitch became fewer and farther between. In fact, there was no communication between them until the night before the acoustic guitar show. She wasn’t sure how to look at this. She felt his artificial glow of putting others first became secondary.

One day Melissa received a text message. The gist was: Busy…Family…School…let’s get together sometime. The lyrics from Standard Lines by Dashboard Confessional came into Melissa’s head: I’ve been meaning to call you I’ve just been so busy, we’ll catch up soon, let’s make it a point to. This pretty much solidified how Melissa felt toward Mitch. She was set aside and she had no idea why. All she needed was an explanation.

Enter the reason Melissa went on the back burner. Rachel was apparently shiner than Melissa and far easier to distract. Rachel and Mitch’s off the wall personalities seemed to compliment one another. Add the fact that both enjoy filming themselves being loud at restaurants during Sunday brunch while forgetting about everyone else around them that just wanted to go out for a quiet meal, dripping distain for casual swears and anyone that isn’t Republican, and blaming their personality quarks on the color of their hair (i.e. “I’m allowed to be loud and annoying in public places because I have red hair, deal with it.”).

So why didn’t Melissa just tell Mitch to take Rachel? Melissa did some math. The ticket was $29.50 with an $8.25 convenience fee. She could tell Mitch to take Rachel or she could go see her third most favorite band in the whole world who was touring along with the acoustic guitar guy for free. In short, she used him and in no way did she feel raw about it.

After the show Mitch took Melissa back to her apartment, which was in the second most liberal area of the city. They started their customary long hug. Much to Mitch’s surprise Melissa pulled away after about seven and a half seconds. She could tell he wasn’t ready to let go. It was their routine to have a long embrace but because Melissa felt after the show she was only wasting her and Mitch’s time by prolonging the inevitable. She would allow him to get back to Rachel, who in no doubt was watching television at Mitch’s apartment waiting for him to come home so she could nag him about taking someone other than her to the acoustic guitar guy’s concert. Melissa pointed Mitch to the door using the excuse of I have work and hair washing in the morning.

This was the last time she saw or communicated with Mitch and for what purpose, to finish off the summer seeing one of her favorite bands for free? No. She learned what she needed to learn from Mitch, namely not giving up her love of left politics and casual swears. She also learned that in order to feel complete all she needed was an explanation, which she never got. Then with an Emeril-like BAM “Mitch is in a relationship with Rachel.” Forever in Melissa’s book Mitch will be labeled as one of those guys that she finds repellant.

A Response

2008-10-03T16:47:00.001-06:00

I’ve taken to reading blogs of people I don’t know. Well, one blog in particular. I don’t know this person but my sister’s husband went to high school with this lady. I know so much about this person (minus the regularity of her bowel) that I could walk up to her at her high school reunion and I could carry on a conversation with her about her daughter who was blessed in a miniature version of her mother’s wedding dress, how her husband is a professional golfer (I could Google his name and find his statistics), what kind of car she drives, and how much she enjoyed her last girl’s night out at Café Rio.

I was reading a post about Spencer’s new job as a math grader. There was an anonymous comment left there. Here is the text:

You might want to be careful what you post. Not everybody has the mathematical background that you currently have. To judge somebody as "stupid" is inconsiderate. Maybe the student doesn’t understand the concept and here you sit judging their knowledge. You have no right to call somebody stupid when you have no clue of their background in learning. You have no right to judge their competency in the subject when you have no clue the circumstances in their life at the moment. With the dreams and aspirations you have, you have an obligation to treat students with respect regardless of their intellect. How dare you judge the students based only on the assignments you see, and not the struggles in their life that you do not understand.

It seems to me that Anonymous’ opinion is coming from a very deep place inside. This is not where the issue lies with me. With me, the issue lies in the following text that was left by Burntacular after Anonymous poured their opinion into the void that is the internet:

Who the heck is sitting on their high horse reading your blog. If I remember correctly this is your blog right? If they have an opinion they should have their own blog!! Get a life you self righteous "stupid" person!

We are all entitled to our own opinions. That is our God given right (hell, I’m voting for Obama much to the chagrin to my mother and many other Mormon friends of mine). Anonymous has an opinion about the treatment of people we don’t know and will probably never meet. It looks like Burntacular has an opinion about the opinion of Anonymous. Now, since we are all human beings and are allowed to make choices and formulate our own views on everything is there some way we could get to a common ground on this whole “stupid” “high horse” “self righteous” issue? Senator Biden and Governor Palin did agree on homosexual marriage and Israel last night. So if a Democrat and a Republican can agree on national and international issues what’s keeping people from finding the same page on this?

Oh, it’s all in print. There is no tone in print.

The Life and Times of Steve, pt. 2, later that evening

2008-09-17T16:10:00.001-06:00

I wrapped the Hot Shot in a plastic bag as to protect my belongings on my way home. In the car I thought about all the fun times I had with Steve.

(open thought cloud)

I remember looking up, every morning and every evening to see if Steve was in his home. I remember wondering if one day Steve would be hanging from his delicate yet strong web making material when I opened my door to go to work. I remember the dream I had of Steve. I remember watching Steve climb up his web in pursuit of dinner.

(close thought cloud)

I knew what had to be done. I walked into my apartment, I set my bag down, and I hooked up my new computer. I was totally engrossed in the awesomeness that was my new computer and speakers and wireless mouse that I almost forgot about the task at hand: I must kill Steve.

With Hot Shot in hand I steped out of my door eying Steve. He no doubt saw the red can in my hand and probably in his spider mind shrunk with fear. I was standing to the side of my door when I held up the can and sprayed. I could tell Steve was in agony. He retreated into the depth of his spider web and I continued to spray. Then, I saw that he was a ball of spider death.

Another sigh of relief and I went into my apartment.

Little did I know that by the next afternoon Steve would be resurrected.

End of pt. I, Intermission

2008-09-16T11:18:00.002-06:00

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The Life and Times of Steve, pt. I

2008-09-14T21:51:00.000-06:00

In the middle of the summer I noticed a little creature built a home above my front door. I wish I had the energy to build my own home. It is instinct for this eight legged, multi-eyed, arachnid to find a shady spot and build a silky web of death for his prey. But why must they always find my door?

As I would leave for work I would look up into the top right corner of the area just above my door jam as I was locking my door. I would never see my little friend in the mornings but when I returned from a long day of work and play I would see that he was back in his corner no doubt full from his daily hunt.

I profess I am not afraid of much, not even death (I know exactly where I’m going), but spiders, I can’t do them. No, really. I’ve looked at Camel Spiders with the utmost awe. I’ve regarded scorpions in captivity and remarked how amazing they are. Put me in a room with a spider and I can’t handle it. Even little, tiny, baby spiders…nope.

At the end of August the family was over to help process through a stressful family event (we’re Sabo’s, we live, learn, and through group therapy move on). My sister and her husband stayed behind to do some laundry. I told them that the spider needed to go. With her bravery, my sister found a piece of my fridge to flatten the little guy. She did just that. She came in from her homicide and told me that he was gone and his home was destroyed. He even crumpled into a ball of spider death. I breathed a sigh of relief.

The next day I left for church. As is my now habit, I looked up. No spider.

Coming back from my meetings I looked up, as is now my habit and he was back. Wah? I called my sister to relay the bad news. Her hit didn’t go as planned and the spider was back with a vengeance. Well, I don’t think he was vengeful. He was just homeless for a day or so. I even watched his process of creating his new home. Now that’s as cool as a Camel Spider but the problem is that it was a real spider making his home above mine…again.

Today while walking back to my apartment after the regional broadcast I commented to Dan the Mechanical Engineering Major at the University of Utah how easy my high school physics class was because every problem was done on an icy, frictionless surface. Dare to dream, he told me. This inspired him to tell me that that air is a fluid. He said something in Science and I asked him to translate it into English. He did so and I almost grasped the concept of a gas being a fluid. I’ll have to ask him again.

I digress and how much do I love the Silversun Pickups?

As I was going out to my brother’s house to pick up my new computer (yeah, it’s totally rad) I thought of giving the spider a name. Steve was born. This made my next decision even harder. I knew I needed to get rid of Steve but once you name something it becomes a part of you. I also knew I needed to get rid of Steve because he was getting bigger. Yeah.

My mind flashed to that scene in Arachnophobia where Jeff Daniels is trying to get out of his house but there are like a billion spiders hanging from the ceiling. I know it’s a comedy but it scared the hell out of me. Anyway. I had this dream the other night about Steve building a superweb trapping me in my apartment and the Chinese food delivery guy couldn’t get me my food because Steve was holding me hostage for flies and bugs but I couldn’t do anything in my apartment for Steve so I tried negotiating with him but he wasn’t listening. This is how much this damn spider has been on my mind (or at least in my subconscious). I only dream of things, events, or people I think about a lot.

I told my mom and my brother that I named Steve and that I needed to kill him. I grabbed a can of Hot Shot (a much better smelling Raid) and with my computer I headed home creating a plan of attack for the demise of Steve.

Dell, where you need a computer to buy a computer

2008-08-20T09:06:00.001-06:00

I purchased my Toshiba Satellite in March 2004. This is when I was getting ready to deploy. I don’t do computers now so imagine me back in 2004 getting advice from everybody that “knows” computers. What do I do? I ask the person that I know knows computers, Klink. Klink told me exactly what I wanted and I found a computer that included (insert computer lingo here) and an internal wireless internet card. This was a big selling point for me because everyone else’s wireless internet stuff was sticking out of their laptops. I took my new purchase back to the barracks and everyone was amazed that I got a computer with exactly what was needed and an internal wireless internet card. Thanks Klink! I love my Toshiba but in computer years it’s been at Del Boca Vista for a while.

My mom has approached me three times about the computer I currently have. I’ve commented that I’m sure I’ve been virused again because it’s running superwayslow and I have neither the time nor the money to get it swept again. Honestly, I think once they get a hold of your IP address, you’re screwed anyway. Last time I got virused my computer went to Geek Squad. A week and $450 later I had my computer and fresh antivirus. It was as if the day my antivirus subscription ran out (and again, college student funds are few and far between) it all came back again (Norton conspiracy?). I went over to my brother’s house on Sunday to enjoy a little Lego’s Indiana Jones, spaghetti, and The Truman Show. Then my brother, my mom, and I sat down and talked about how crappy my computer is and how nice a new one would be.

My mom has a line of credit at dell.com so they are helping me purchase a new computer. I’m getting the Studio 15 in plum purple with matching plum purple wireless optical mouse. I’m also getting a new messenger bag specifically made for the Studio 15 that has a purple shoulder strap. I’m pretty excited about it.

I know you all tried to get me to come to the Apple side. My only argument here is that I’m paralyzed without a right click. They probably make special mice for the Apple that have right click capabilities but I’d really much rather stay with the PC style.

One thing I really wanted to touch on today is the question “Whatever happened to going to the computer store, grabbing the computer, paying for it, and taking it home?” As I was customizing my new Studio 15, I was at the computer with my brother and mom talking about all my different options as to hard drive capacity, processor speed, wireless capabilities, sound cards, screen choices for an hour. An hour? Are you freakin’ kidding me? It walks you step by step through all the options but, come on, I’m not a gamer, I’m probably not going to watch movies on it, and I don’t need AOL.

I’m still totally stoked about my new computer. I need to give it a name. I'll figure that out later but for right now...Go Bruins!

There are two types of people in this world

2008-08-17T21:27:00.003-06:00

Those that like Napoleon Dynamite and those that don't.

It's on Comedy Central right now. I laugh.

A Response to Ashley's Post

2008-08-15T14:31:00.002-06:00

Click and read here first.

Then click here and see what Dr. Cox has to say about it. Which clearly illustrates Jeremy's math.

I join in what Ashely has to say about the men who are in charge of this whole fiasco we call dating. I would like to point out that everytime I have ever initiated a convo with a dude that I wanted to get to know better it has always fizzled and died. Now, on those few occasions where I was the hunted, so to speak, it has turned into some style of a relationship.

I have standards that want to see in a man and I will not fold like a lawn chair. I've done that and let me tell you I was disappointed in myself.

I will also not compromise who I am: the God fearin', disease free, personality filled, fiercely independent, good looking, low maintenance, drama-free, strong willed, educated, political, Libra that lives by herself.

I'm not sure if it's men in Utah or men in general but when they find out I'm going to be a doctor they retreat. As they are running scared I see their tail between their legs as if I were some predator that just hurt them somehow.

I'm not sure if it's men in Utah or men in general but most of the guys I talk to have some type of savior complex. I don't need any rescuing.

Like Ashley, I am very satisfied with my singleness. I welcome it. It is really fun to be learning about myself day in and day out so I can be projecting those things in myself that I want to see in a potential partner.

So, yeah. Comment if you would like. It seems my ramblings are going into the void of the internet.

Preparations

2008-08-13T16:37:00.002-06:00

With one week left in my summer break from school I am getting ready for the new semester (which starts on the 20th) by

Cleaning my apartment
Doing laundry
Going to the temple
Helping my sister move her stuff into her new classroom
Going to see Rogue Wave on the 18th
Reading my other new textbook for my Personality Theory class that I got for a fraction of the bookstore price at bigwords.com
Figuring out my new commute to Redwood High
Watching Michael Phelps win a million gold medals in Beijing
Wondering where the summer went
Reading the Book of Mormon and picking scriptures to ponder
Trying to catch up on sleep
Packing my bag the night before I leave for work
Evaluating my options as to when I can still volunteer at Chelsea Street
Asking my brother for a blessing
Looking at this picture of Jedi Squirrels

I really, really, really want the semester to start.

2008-08-12T13:07:00.001-06:00

I've taken learning upon myself and started to read my Personality Theory textbook.

I'm a nerd.

The Olympic Post...everybody's doing it

2008-08-09T09:34:00.005-06:00

Ah, the Olympics.

Every four years I am, along with my sister, inspired to get back in the pool. I love watching the swimming. While I was in high school our coach made sure we watched the Olympics. In fact, he would record it and use it as a teaching tool.

My mind was blown by the awesomeness that was the opening ceremonies. I think my favorite part was the printing tiles thing. The representations of the wind and water dropping into a calm pool. Then, much to my amazement, the little boxes came to their full height, the tops flipped open, and there were people in there. My jaw dropped. There were people in there? NO WAY!

I really like watching the Parade of Nations as well. All these athletes are here to be the best in the world. I really liked seeing those countries with fewer that 20 athletes. Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Ivory Coast. I like the fact that eventhough they know deep down that they probably won't get a medal, they probably won't set any world records, they probably won't even be televised but they are representing their country.

The tears usually cloud my vision not just for the United States but for everyone that is literally at the top of their game. I'm flipping between women's vollyball and women's weight lifting. I didn't even know there was women's weight lifting. There's an athlete from Turkey named Sibel Ozkan that is 20 years old and wants to be a teacher. When she did her last clean and jerk and knew she won the silver, she ran off the competition area and jumped into the arms of her coach (tear, she did what she wanted). China's Chen Xiexia won the gold and set a new Olympic recrod of 257.5 pounds. The hometown crowd was going crazy. I also found myself chanting USA, USA, USA, while watching the very close vollyball match between the US and Japan. I don't even like vollyball but the United States is playing and I want to see these women kick some Olympic ass.

For two weeks every fourth summer and ever fourth winter every American is dialed in and in agreement on one thing: the ability of our athletes to be the best in the world. How proud we all are when we see those men, women, and sometimes teenagers on the top of the medals stand crying and holding their hand over their heart while singing along with the Star Spangled Banner being played for all the world to hear. It doesn't matter what race, political affiliation, sexual preferance, hair color, income level, or relgious choice, we will be heard cheering on our swimmers, gymnasts, vollyball players, pentathletes, archers, boxers, track and fieldians, baseball players, and all other athletes so we can say to the world that we're pretty damn proud to be Americans.

Theme Checks

2008-08-04T12:48:00.001-06:00

Not theme ties – that’s a different story all together.

My dad and his wife have theme checks. They are proud Cubs fans through and through. I don’t think my dad’s wife has a problem signing her name to a Cubs check. It’s actually pretty sweet.

I don’t have theme checks. They’re cool for you it’s just not for me. I use the ones I get for free from my credit union (college student). I don’t see a point in having theme checks. I figure why must my personality be put forth in a form of monetary security that 1. less and less establishments are accepting and 2. only me, the establishment, and my bank sees. As part of my job I see a lot of the returned checks. When one closes an account or bounces a check, those checks come back to us. Which begs the question: Why are people writing checks they probably know will bounce or on a closed account? I don’t know. Anyway. Let this be a lesson to you all to not bounce checks you write to the ward or Deseret Industries or LDS Family Services or LDS Home Storage, because I will see them.

The other day I got a returned two party check signed by the man of the house. Please don’t take this as chauvinistic. The man/male/husband must be in charge of the finances of the home. The thing is. It was an Anne Geddes check. Now. I don’t know many dudes that would go out of their way to purchase these feminine checks. This must be something he fell in on. But it couldn’t have been something he fell in on because it had his wife’s name printed on the check too.

What if this naked babies in eggs and flowers and dressed up as insects check theme was a compromise between Harley Davidson and potted plants? If it were me, I’d try to say something like, “How about some nice beach scenes, honey? Maybe wooded forests? Classic rock artists? Please not Anne Geddes. Anything but Anne Geddes.”

Ponder Scripture is up and running

2008-07-29T13:00:00.002-06:00

Check it out.

No really, check it out.

Speed Dating

2008-07-28T09:47:00.001-06:00

What a phenomenon.

Thanks, Radio From Hell, for giving me the most thrilling night of my life (read sarcastically, if you need to read it again, please do so).

Every so often, RFH throws singles mixers. This one was at the Downtown Iggy's. Sounds like fun. I'm a single, disease free, personality filled, independent, good looking, Libra. Why not?

I get there at about 7:00 and I looked great. I was wearing a clever tee-shirt. Can’t go wrong. I run into Bill from the Radio From Hell show. He gave me a hug and he directed me to the registration table where I put my name badge on. I give Richie T a hug and he tells me to go and find a table that doesn't have a lot of people and go be social. I find a table with a couple guys at it. J-Name Guy is 29, he's a meat cutter for Harmon's, races cars at Rocky Mountain Raceway, likes to be out doors, his favorite sport is NASCAR, had brown hair, and a goatee. (Insert name here) is 44, he works at a pump manufacturing plant fixing tools, is first generation American with a Greek family, has thinning hair, glasses, and a big nose. After 45 minutes of painful, forced, and contrived conversation Eric shows up. Eric is 21, works at Lowe's as a help people get stuff to their cars guy, is a gamer, has glasses, and graduated from Box Elder High School in 2005 (How do I know this? He wore his class ring.).

Speed dating started at 8:00.

The gentlemen get up from the table and the Portia of Live and Local fame sits down at my table because we needed two ladies at each table. Portia is pretty cool. Then the men start rolling in. They are all guys that have jobs, are decently good looking, they even kinda smell good but then I think back to some advice my sister gave me, "He has a Jeep and muscles, but can he talk to you?" J-Name Guy and (insert name here) avoided the politics question like the plague so I knew I couldn't talk politics with the nameless rabble of dudes.

The only dude I could talk politics with was Luis. He is graduating from the University of Utah with his Bachelors in Social Work in the spring. Then he's going to jump right into graduate work. He's working full time and going to school full time. As soon as he started in on how much he loves social work it was time to switch partners. As he was getting up to leave I told him I wanted to keep talking to him about social work but he never came back.

This whole time the waiter, Dave, was bringing us Dr. Pepper (because it was a Pepsi establishment...I think we all know how I feel about Pepsi), water, and all manner of adult beverages. I felt like he was kinda keeping an eye on me. Once the evening was over Dave came over and sat next to me and asked me how it went. "Well, Dave, it's hard to get to know someone in five minutes. Stuff like this takes years. Dating in Utah is like (insert forced metaphor here)." He kept nodding his head. As I was ordering some dinner, Eric the Gamer showed back up to my table.

More forced conversation with Eric the Gamer and I mean forced. Here I am trying to eat my turkey sandwich and fries and he's talking about how he nearly lost his eye when he was four and that's why the armed forces (because I was in the Army, common thread is probably what he was thinking) wouldn't take him but he wanted to join…can you imagine what my face is doing? Dave the Waiter came and sat next to me after his smoke break and asked for me to come back. I told him I'd only come back if I could sit in his section. He told me he could make that happen.

Eric the Gamer paid for my dinner and I didn't have the heart to not give him my phone number. So now, in my phone, I have the number of Eric the Gamer (he texted me the next day and called me two days after the evening of his company). As I was boxing up my dinner he asked if he could walk me to my car. No thanks, I think can make it. I get up from the table, stick my hand out for a handshake and he's half way to a hug. I concede and give him a one armed embrace. As we're walking to the door of Iggy's we just so happen to walk by Portia's table. I tell her to have a good evening and I also roll my eyes. While Eric the Gamer is walking toward the door she looks at me and with a look of disgust on her face mouths the words "Are you leaving with him?" I mouth back while shaking my head and rolling my eyes yet again, "No."

fjkd; souiwae zxcm,.vn (head hit keyboard)

Medical school, I'll find him in medical school.

What Scripture am I Pondering Today?

2008-07-22T13:10:00.002-06:00

I’m right in the middle of the Isaiah chapters of the Book of Mormon and I think to myself, “Self, you’ve just gotta get through the Isaiah chapters.” My brain isn’t ready for the Isaiah chapters (Insert comment about how Isaiah is so beautiful. Spare me.). I have found a couple gems in the last few days such as

2 Nephi 10:17

and

2 Nephi 13:10

I started this last week. While on the train I look at my Book of Mormon and say, “Book of Mormon, teach me something today.” Inevitably, it’s something I need to hear or (if it’s not something I need to hear) a question gets answered or I talk to someone that needs to hear the scripture of the day…funny.

I write the scripture of the day on a Post-it Note and pin it to the wall of my desk. This is another thing I enjoy about working for the Church. People here don’t think that’s weird where any other job would look at you sideways and be like, “Dude, scriptures?”

Today I am pondering 2 Nephi 19:6 – For unto us a child is born, unto us as son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder; and his name shall be called, Wonderful, Counselor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.

This scripture is used in the Messiah by Frederic Handel. Can we say inspired music? Yes, say it with me, inspired music. The music is all favorite but if I had a top five favorite pieces in the Messiah, For Unto Us would be in it.

I wanted to discuss how truly awesome this scripture is.

A child is born: My mom has a picture of Mary holding the six month old Christ. I like looking at it because it reminds me that we all started that way, a child. Of course, Christ had an advantage being the “only begotten in the flesh” and all but He still started as a child.

A son is given: Given as a sacrifice for all. Not just for the people on Earth…all. Heavenly Father gave His son to us. Do we need to go into the Atonement or is that something that can be saved for another post? Another post, by gum.

And the government shall be upon his shoulder: The perfect, self-sustaining government free from politicians. He is the perfect judge having personally experienced every sickness, every bruise, every ouchie, every tear, every death, every abuse, and every mentality.

And his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace: I like how these are all used as other names for Christ. The perfect listener, the perfect brother, the perfect dad, the perfect person we can go to for true stillness.

I think I might have found a new blog.

I like my job!

8 minutes 48 seconds

2008-07-18T13:02:00.002-06:00

This is the exact time on the track Shine on You Crazy Diamond (Parts I - V) on the album Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd when singing begins.

Bar League Softball

2008-07-17T13:07:00.001-06:00

Since May-ish I’ve been playing on a softball team called Terra Diamond. How I ended up on the team was kind of a fluke. Someone broke their leg which opened up an extra spot on the team. Once I found out Jessica, a friend of mine, was on a team I wanted in. Every Thursday she would come into the office and complain about how there are people on her team that don’t try. Every time I would tell her that I’ll be on the team and that I’ll try.

I suck at softball but at least I try. I’m not a complete spaz. I can throw the ball. I can run fast. I’m not too stellar at catching fly balls or batting. I’ve learned a lot about playing the game from my dad. He loves baseball (Cubs fan, true blue, through and through) and he played softball for a long time. He comes to all my games and gives me advice.

The regular season ended last night. We ended our season with one win. Yes, one win. The fun part was my athletic ability finally caught up with me. My dad was in the crowd (and when I say crowd I mean there were about eight people there). I was up to bat for the first time that game. The pitch comes in. Ball. (Good eye, Brian). The next pitch comes in and I hit the ball.

Now, I’ve hit the ball a few times this season but 100% of the time I hit the ball, it was caught. Now, in softball and baseball, that’s an out. So, I hit the ball and I started running to first base and I mean booking to first base. I look up to see where the ball was going and I see the fielder right underneath the ball. Another out. Much to my surprise, she dropped the ball.

I, Allison Sabo, made a base hit.

My dad was so proud.

Just call me Base Hit Sabo.

I was grinning about it for an hour.

Me, I made a base hit.

I wasn’t even on base when I saw that she dropped the ball. I was jumping up and down that I had succeeded in the base hit. I slapped hands with my team when I went back to get my mitt because Cy struck out.

It was awesome and I was so proud of myself. The season’s hard work finally paid off for me with a base hit.

Now is when I get into why I call bar league. My team has a couple brewskies while they are playing. Maybe it’s the golf or bowling theory. It loosens them up. Or maybe they’re just used to it. I wouldn’t be able to do it. It’s cool for them it’s just not for me. I still love the fact that I get to play softball and I got a base hit.

We play on Wednesdays. Our next game is on the 23rd at 6:30 P.M. at 3700 South Main Street in South Salt Lake. We wear the green shirts. I’m number 29 and my softball name is Donna.

Go team!

The Birds Are Out in Full Force at the Church Office Building

2008-07-16T09:31:00.003-06:00

I’ve grown accustomed to wearing nylons all day. That is, without fail, the first question everyone asked when they found out I was working at the COB. Even my mother asked me that. I thought it was going to be a difficult adjustment but, yeah, not so much. I also enjoy wearing skirts. I’ve always enjoyed wearing skirts. We went to sacrament meeting while we were in Smalltownville, Southern Utah. I wore a black, just below the knee pencil skirt that zipped and buttoned in the back (my favorite skirt). When we got back to the house I found it odd to take off my skirt so soon. I’ve adapted to the skirt.

I find it interesting that the church has corporations. Like the Corporation of the Presiding Bishopric and the Corporation of the President. I guess when you’re working with millions of dollars you need to be under the corporation umbrella. In other words, the church isn’t a small business.

The church also invests money. That I didn’t know. I work on the 15th floor of the COB in the Department of the Treasury. Across the way from my area is the Investment Securities Department. I asked the Investment Securities Department secretary what they do. She said they take the Lord’s funds and invest it in stocks and bonds. Real estate investment is in a different building. I asked what the church invests in and I got a list of what the church doesn’t invest in (dang, I want to know what to invest in). The church doesn’t invest in caffeinated products (people think the church owns Coca-Cola), tobacco, alcohol, guns, gambling, and adult entertainment. Not a big surprise. There were other questions asked but I can’t talk about those…super secret stuff.

Now, working at Global was a learning experience for me. I grew a lot and I learned a lot. I’ve found some differences with working for the church and working at Global.

I haven’t been in my own car since Friday morning. Thank you discount Adult Transit Pass.

When I came in for my interview at the COB I saw numerous people walking in with their large ounce mugs full of some type of drink (I’m just going out on a limb and say Caffeine Free Diet Coke). At Global, almost everyone walks in with coffee.

We all get to wear church clothes every day. At Global, not so much. In fact, when I wore a skirt to work everyone asked me if I had an interview. “Not today,” Allison would put in her thought cloud.

The profanity had definitely been curbed. I still hear some profanity but not as much as when I was at Global.

I don’t feel judged when I decide I want to read conference talks, the recent Ensign, or my Book of Mormon while I’m at lunch.

Twice a week I see facilities maintenance workers in waders cleaning the reflecting pool on the Main Street Plaza. I’m not sure how often the grass was cut while working at Global. In fact, I don’t care how often the grass is cut at Global.

Now, this is my favorite difference between Global and the COB. At Global I worked with aggressive high maintenance people. At the COB I work with passive high maintenance people. Let me explain.

If I was doing something wrong at Global, I heard about it. In all actuality, I like to hear when I’m making mistakes or bothering someone then I know how to make things run more smoothly. This is what I like to call the aggressive high maintenance people.

At the COB there are passive high maintenance people. Let me explain. In fact, here’s a case and point. I was going through returned checks for Cheryl the Reconciler. I needed to look up the unit number and write it on the back of the check. I asked Cheryl the Reconciler if I could ditch the letter that the checks come with. I needed to keep them attached. Simple enough. Staple the returned checks to the letter. I get through my whole stack, staples and all, and I take them to Susan, who apparently is frazzled enough. I put them on her desk and told her that they were from Cheryl the Reconciler.

Susan’s eyes become as big as saucers. She says, “That’s not how I like them.” A statement. That’s all she said.

My head tilts to one side. “How do you like them?” I replied.

“Well I would rather have them (insert a very complicated way for me to have these returned checks). I can fix them, don’t worry, I can do it.” I really think she would have liked to say, “You screwed up my system and now I have to do lots of extra work.”

“Okay. If this is the standard that you like then that is how you’ll get them every time.”

“Well, you don’t have to do it that way. How you’ve done it this way is fine. So, this is fine, this is fine, but this is how I like them done, but you can keep doing them how you’ve done them.”

“What do you like?” I ask getting slightly annoyed because she’s not making a decision.

“This way.”

“Then that’s how I’ll do them.”

I took the stack back to my desk to fix them. On my way I hit my head with the returned checks a couple times. This then spurred a whole conversation with Cheryl the Reconciler about the difference between passive high maintenance people and aggressive high maintenance people.

I think this is a great example about how we have been raised in the church. Don’t offend people. If it requires you to do extra work then so be it. Be of small voice.

Conversely, am I doing what I've been socialized to do? Just throwing that out there.

This really bothers me on so many levels. If I screw something up, tell me. I think I am adaptable and cooperative enough to learn the system and change what I need to do to not be a feather ruffler. It takes a lot, and I mean a lot, to offend me. Taking staples out of papers doesn’t offend me. Now, say something about how you enjoy beating your wife, you’ll probably get my point of view…no, you will get my point of view. But come on, staples?

I think my favorite phrase around here is, “Oh, that’s okay.” No, if it’s bothering you, it isn’t okay. If you need clarification we can certainly do that. Saying that you don’t understand or something isn’t quite gelling really helps in the long run. Once someone gets trained to do something one way and a month down the road they are told that it is done a completely different way breeds frustration. I can just imagine (insert the gossip and the talking here).

All in all, I think it was a good move. The Salt Lake Temple is finally open again. Now I can do work before I go to work!

The awesomeness that is...

2008-07-14T08:21:00.003-06:00

...learning where someone comes from.

Addendum after Laverna's comment: mind officialy blown.

Road Trip!

2008-07-08T20:47:00.004-06:00

I've been on a few road trips in my adult life (Preston, Las Vegas, Denver). All three were fantastic times.

I went to Preston to see a friend from Basic Training. He got married and I was invited so I spent the night in Preston.

Las Vegas was a lot of fun. Like the South, you couldn't pay me enough to live there.

As we all know, Ashley lives in Denver. Back in the summer of 2006, Michelle and I took a little road trip to visit the fair city of Denver.

I've always listened to albums while on road trips. I'm about to go on a road trip and I'm going to make a play list. It's going to be called the Blow Your Mind List.

I would like to ask my reader(s) a question: What songs have blown your mind? I don't want to limit this to any time period or genre. Opinions are welcome. Submit as many songs as you would like.

Members of the Family

2008-07-06T07:50:00.004-06:00

So.

While my mom and brother are in Illinois and Missouri, I am house sitting and taking care of Festivus. I know it's not the Festivus time of year. For the less informed or forgetful, Festivus is the dog. I would like to claim him as my own because mine is the name on his adoption papers but he is truly my sister's dog.

Festivus is, for lack of a better term, a spaz. I love my dog because he's so off the wall crazy in love with every human or non-human that comes through the front door. I think he has ADD. Would I love him less if there were doggie ADD? Nope. He's Festivus and always will be.

I felt bad that I left my apartment so late because I took a monster nap after some Bountiful Temple work, a meal, and great conversation at Cafe Rio. In some ways I felt I deserved it. Problem: I completely forgot the dog probably needed to use the bathroom. I'm so busy taking care of myself I sometimes forget about the remainder of God's creatures (if you know what movie this comes from, I'll give you...something). I head out to my brother's house to get the dog some bathroom time.

I was sitting on the steps to the house telling my dog to do his business. He started running up the stairs had he totally missed one. This is typical behavior for Festivus so I thought nothing of. Festivus has been known to trip over nothing on the floor so seeing him miss the step to the house made me laugh, call him silly, and go on our merry way. I sat down at the computer, turned on my brother's iTunes, and started surfing the world wide interweb that is on computers now. I hear some rustling over on his pillows. I look over my shoulder and he's nursing his paw. This can't be good.

I look at his paw and his left front dewclaw is screaming red. I called his doctor but they were closed. I then called the Pet E.R. on 2oth East and 62nd South. I described the situation and they told me to bring him in. Now, putting a dog in the back seat of your car is hard enough. Add an injury to that and you might as well know that you need to vacuum and spot clean once the trip is through.

We get to the Pet E.R. and they are very helpful. It's nice to know that not all people are afriad of dogs. They were so kind to him and only wanted to help him. I kept talking to my poor little Festie. I was trying to reassure him, and myself, that these people were there to help him and were going to fix him (It's okay, Festivus, they're here to help you. This is where a lot of other hurt doggies come, just like you. These are nice people that are going to make you feel better.). After the nurse took his vitals the vet came in took his look at it and said, "Well we're going to have to cut it off. It's quite painful because that's where all the nerve endings are so we're going to sedate him then give him a reversal so he can come right out of it. I'm going to take him back now so we can get this done."

My eyes became saucers. I asked the doctor of veternary medicine, "Can I come back there with him or do I have to stay here?"

With his eyes filling with empathy and a concerned brow furrow he said, "You're going to have to stay here."

My heart sank. Festivus is the closest thing I've had to a child. I knew there was no other choice. Reluctantly I handed over the leash of my Festuvus to the vet. I reminded Festuvus that he'd only be gone for a little bit and that they were going to help him. I knew everything was going to be okay because when the doctor opened the door to leave Festivus' tail was still high and wagging. It's that little reassurance I needed. He's still my happy doggie.

After being resigned to the doggie exam room, I called my dad. He has three dogs that he and his wife regularly take four-wheeling. We're a dog family. I told him of my plight and he laughed at me further confirming the bet we made after Festivus' first trip to the vet when he was washed of his fleas. Dad said, "In this dog's lifetime, I suspect he'll have to use a cone, he'll break one of his legs, and we'll have to bail him out of jail." Well, Festuvus has been injured so many times without breaking his leg that I'm really glad that he isn't the next Speedy. I don't think he's done anything illegal and he totally hated the cone so we got some pictures and never put it on him again.

The nurse brings him back into the doggie exam room and my poor dog looks drunk. He was stumbling all over the place, running into things, and the look on his face was priceless. He also had a doggie ace bandage wrapped around his leg from his elbow to his paw (all this for a dewclaw?). His little toenails were sticking out the bottom of it. He was coming out of his sedation. She told me to walk him around the waiting room and that would wake him up. As I was doing that she was charging my bank account for an undisclosed amount (think emergency room). As I was signing the little slip of paper, Festivus sat down and his front paws slid from underneath him and he ended up on the floor. My poor doggie. I got him into the car and we went home.

Fortunately Trish and Tristan were at the house to help document this event. They got video footage.

Chapters

2008-06-26T21:24:00.004-06:00

Life of Allison
Chapter 1
Enlistment - She joins the Army without consulting the person that knows more about her than her. Why she didn't pray about it, she'll never know, but this was definately a pivot point in her life. This marks some sort of point of no return. She was 18 years old.

Chapter 2
Deployment - After watching her parent's marriage crumble before her very eyes (actually, it had been breaking for several years), she is deployed to Afghanistan. It really wasn't a bad trade. She was severely depressed at the time. It was practically a way out. In a sleeping bag on the couch is where she spent most of her nights in the tiny two bedroom townhouse.

Chapter 3
Redeployment - Coming home from Afghanistan was another turning point in Allison's life. She made some choices while she was there that set her back in her eternal perspective. She had happiness but not joy. She hungered for joy. She wanted the peace she had when she was in primary.

Chapter 4
Final Kiss Goodbye - She departed from her old life on Christmas Eve 2006 thanks to strong friends and family to be examples in her life. Allison learned that to be strong, she needed to not rely on the arm of others.

Chapter 5
New Clothes, New Job - Allison received a new job working for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. She will be assisting in their accounting department. Not only does she have this new job that will save her many pennies in gas, she is sporting a new suit case with white clothing designed for redeeming the dead. By doing this work, she has learned that she is once again in primary, once again six years old learning as a child would, starting over.

~~~
~~~
~~~
~~~
~~~

I went to see Kung Fu Panda today, one last hurrah with Global Medical Staffing. The old turtle character said, "One often reaches their destiny on the path they use to avoid it."

I particularly like the third definition: the power that determines the course of events.

What is the destiny of the children of God?
What is the destiny of man?

Let's do some substitution.

What is the power that determines the course of events of the children of God?
What is the power that determines the course of events of man?

Simply put, it's Heavenly Father.

Did you know...

2008-06-25T17:46:00.005-06:00

...Ruby Tuesday is a Rolling Stones song?

I didn't.

I was a Jordan girl

2008-04-26T08:51:00.002-06:00

It was an accidental fanship. I was in 2nd grade and I saw a girl with a NKOTB pin. She asked me if I liked them and I lied, I had no idea who they were, "Of course. I love...them." A fan was born.

I had their bedsheets.

Joey, Jordan, Jonathan, Donnie, and Danny have reunited for a New Kids on the Block reunion tour.

Oh, and I'm going to be there.

An Achieved Status

2008-04-11T08:18:00.003-06:00

I've been given the title Regular at Dees Family Restaurant. I'm there once a week. Toward the end of the semester I'm there sometimes twice a week reading and studying and doing end of the semester things, which is right now.

On Wednesday I go in and order a bacon, cheese, tomato melt on white (three strips of bacon, a couple slices of tomato, and swiss cheese between two pieces of grilled bread). You wouldn't think that it's very good but it really is. I eat my salad and fries while I'm reading. I pick up half of this totally awesome sandwitch that I've been thinking about since about 9:30 PM and take a bite.

This tastes funny. I take a nother bite, not really paying attention. Still tastes funny. I look at the sandwitch and find that there is American cheese on it. What's this crap? Since when did they put American cheese on a bacon, cheese, tomato melt? Under further investigation of the sandwitch I find that it looks like they made a grilled cheese sandwich, realized their mistake, opened the sandwitch, slid the correct ingredients in, and served it to me.

Um, I hate American cheese.

During the Dee's Scare of 2004 they kept selling the establishments to build Walgreens and Mexican restaurants. I've been going to Dee's since I've been little and to come home to a valley less three Dee's (that I've been to) I was quite concerned. May we have a moment of silence to honor those fallen Dee's Restaurants of 3500 South, 400 South, and North Temple.

...
...
...

The building on 2100 South and 700 East became my Dee's when I moved out of my mom's house. This is the Dee's where I earned my achieved status (sociology term) of a regular. I was concerned to find that this restaurant, that I've grown to call my own, has screwed up on my order. This has never happend at my Dee's. I've been going to my Dee's for three years now. I've eaten probably hundreds of meals there and this is the first time they've ever messed up my order.

I looked up to my waitress and then I looked down at my food and my book then back up to my waitress. I realized I needed to make a decision. Send the food back or eat what's been given to me. How many of you have been in a situation where you've had to send food back to the kitchen in a restaurant? I don't recall many times where I've had to do this. In fact, I think this is the first time this thought has crossed my mind. Maybe my bark is bigger than my bite because I'm sure I've said, "If anybody ever screws up on my order, by gum, I'm sending it back." I didn't send it back. I ate the bacon and tomatoes then realized that there was a rather large group of young adults that was seated behind me (I'm just realizing this because I've been so into my book that I really didn't know they were there).

I got up to pay. Heart pounding. Eventhough she doesn't need to ask, the manager says, "How was everything tonight?" I start out with, "Now, how often do I complain? I don't. But (insert the sandwitch ordeal here)." I reassured her that she would not loose a customer but asked her to talk to whomever she needed to talk to.

The next day I go back to Dee's to do some soul searching. I told the manager again the she didn't loose customer. I got my food, did some writing, and paid for my meal. It was perfect, the Dee's I always remember. She told me that she talked to the cook, who wasn't all there anyway, and told him that if you screw up on an order, throw it away and remake it. She told him that a lot of these customers are regulars and know what's in their food, such as my case. I told her that I appreciate what she did and I also told her that that situation probably would've driven a regular customer away, just not me. Dee's has served me for 15 years and this is the first time my order was ever screwed up on. I'll be back as long as I have studying or reading or writing to do.

I still love Dee's and will go there until I'm old and grey, if I'm still in Salt Lake by then.

I'm Jaded, You're Jaded, Let's be Jaded Together

2008-04-01T21:14:00.002-06:00

I just finished watching the documentary Thin and I was about to watch the film Once, Academy Award winner for best original song by the Frames, when the urge to blog hit me. I've been devising this post for about a week and a half.

If you can't tell from the title, this will be a post about members of the opposite sex. When I think I've got a good thing going for me, POW, right in the kisser.

Backstory.

We just got home from Afghanistan. My Sergeant Major says, "Sabo, I'm going to introduce my son to you. He needs to meet some good girls." Henceforth, we will call him the Sergeant Major's Son. We meet. He takes me to see Children of Men, not for the faint of heart, especally during the last bit of the movie where there is a very intense and extremely accurate urban combat scene. Completely off topic. We hang out a couple more times. No big deal. He just got back from his mission, he needs to live life, right? Yes, he does. This is why it's not a big deal that we lost contact for more than a year.

Story.

Spring Semester 2008. After a long series of unfortunate events about an extremely stupid English class that I'm required to take eventhough I got an A in 2010, the Sergeant Major's son and I end up in the same Political Science class at Salt Lake Community College. We start chatting before and after class. We chat during class. He even convinces me to go to see Gogol Bordello with him (Start wearing purple, wearing purple. Start wearing purple for me now. Your insecurities will all vanish, I promise, if you start wearing purple for me now). The flirting has increased. Lately, we've been finishing eachother's sentences, saying the same thing at the same time, wanting to make the same comments in class. I mean, will you give me a break? He's political, he digs music, he has a cool dad that likes me, he's good looking, he's smart, he reads, he goes to church. (Is it a coincidence that this falls into my lap right at the same time I start asking Heavenly Father about dating again?)

Defying all things the church has taught, I got my tarot cards read. "So, Margaret Ruth, there's this guy (insert the rest of the story here)."

"Allison, I'm getting a really wierd reading here. Well, I'm seeing that you have a very strong psychological connection with this guy, strong spititual connection but there isn't anything that's going to come from it. He's holding onto something. There's something he's hiding from you. But there's nothing that's going to come from this connection." I shrug. Meh, we'll see.

The very same week we're chatting outside class as usual. He brings up this girl (red flag #1) so I lay it out. "Are you dating somebody, Seargent Major's Son? You can tell me."

"Not technically dating per se. We've been on and off for the last eight months."

"Okay. So are there issues with this girl? Are you jaded? Are you upset because she's not paying attention to you? Is she young? What is it? Let's get to the root of this problem. If you've been on and off again for eight months what's stopping you from taking me to dinner?"

"It's not that simple. She has a condition."

"Condition?"

"Yeah, a condition (nodding his head, giving me the wide googley eyes)."

My jaw drops. I felt my face drain from my forehead to my chin. "Did you get her pregnant."

Silent head nod. He busts out with, "You never knew me in high school." He's right. I never knew him in high school but his dad did. Why else would he want to introduce his son to a good girl?

I have absolutely no idea what to say next besides, "Well, let me chew on that. I've got to go to class. I'll see you Monday." We give eachother our customary high five and go our ways.

Now, I know I've been attracted to assholes in the past, but this guy seemed like a real winner (please look at above mentioned awesome things about the Sergeant Major's Son, except for the whole getting a girl pregnant that he's been on and off again with, pun intended). I know I'm jaded, I know I'm extreme. But there's this phrase: once bitten, twice shy. Okay, when does it go into twice or even thrice bitten?

I know it's a physiological thing about dudes not being able to keep in in their pants. Isn't there some higher source that someone can talk to about their weaknesses? What am I thinking, of course there is. Isn't there some sort of covenant young men make when they are 19 and about to go to Brazil to serve the Lord for two years that can help them to keep it in their pants after they get home? Oh, yes, there is.

I'm taking my books and I'm going home.

March Madness

2008-03-22T08:42:00.003-06:00

I took Texas all the way. They're still in but my bracket took a beating in the West this week.

Ashton is the office bookie. He runs all the gambling. When Lanissa had her baby in November you gave him $1 to get in. You chose the birthdate and time of the child. Weight was the tie breaker. I didn't win that one. I didn't win the pool of Dave's baby either.

Once football season starts he distributes that weeks games with a spread. $1 per week and you get your picks. If your teams come out on top you get half the week's money. The other half goes into a pot and whoever got the most pics right over the season gets the pot. I don't enter that one because I watch two and a half football games a year: high school homecoming, Super Bowl and half of the BYU/Utah game. Football isn't a huge practice in my home.

He distributed this year's bracket and for $3 you're in. You fill out the bracket and every correct pick you have in the first round you get a point. Every correct pick in the second round you get two points. Sweet 16, three points. Elite Eight, four points. Final Four, five points. Championship, six points. Whoever gets the highest amount of points keeps the cash. My stronghold in the East looks like it's going to be a real winner. It kinda sucks because one wrong pick and you're screwed.

Let's take, for example my Midwest picks. I'm not a college baskeball fan by any stretch of the imagination but come on, did you know there was a college called Siena? They are the #13 seed and the beat #3 Vanderbilt who I took to the Sweet 16. Same goes for #5 Clemson who was spanked by #12 Villanova. Again with the colleges I don't know.

Like I said, I took Vanderbilt to the Sweet 16. That means I'll miss out on the points for the second round and the Sweet 16 for that particular team because they're out of the tournament.

I'll just keep hoping that my bracket in the East keeps doing well but I make no guarantees.

Secretary

2008-03-18T22:22:00.003-06:00

As most of you may know a little over a year ago I decided to ditch my University/Singles Ward because they were sucking the life out of me with their "Mormonism." Also, if you know me, I've lived a lot of life. I can thank the Army for that but I have no regrets. You only have regrets if you don't learn something from the mistakes you make. Having washed my spotted clothing in the atoning blood of the Lamb taught me lots of things. I'm not talking weekly "I sped in traffic or said a naughty word" repentence. I'm talking the "Because of the choices I made I wasn't allowed to take the sacrament for a designated period of time" repentence. Do with that information what you will.

I am a proud member of the Salt Lake Park Stake 1st Ward. The first ward established here in this Great Salt Lake Valley. It's a family ward. In December I was released from my position as the Young Single Adult Ward/Stake/Region Representative and in January was sustained as Secretary in the Ward Young Women's Presidency (it pays to not be able to play the piano). Let me give you an example of the demographics of my girls, and these are the active ones. One is two months away from graduating from high school and marrying a return missionary dousche bag that is thinking with his penis. One might be pregnant. Two have admited to using illegal drugs and drinking alcohol. One is trying so hard not to follow in the footsteps of her betrothed sister but is probably going to be married right out of high school, too. One is an exchange student from Germany and isn't even a member, she just comes because her host family forces her. Remember, these are the active ones. Needless to say, but I'm going to say it anyway, we're not too concerned with Personal Progress, if you catch my drift.

Where do these girls get these ideas from? Let's take, for example, one of the girls that has admitted to using illegal drugs and alcohol. Her father is a dealer. Her mother is somewhere on the east coast. So where do you think she got the idea to use heroin? Her father provided it for her. And when I say provided it I mean he taught her how to tie off and hit a vein.

Why am I blogging about this, you may ask? Several reasons. As a presidency, we rotate through the month who teaches the lesson on Sunday. It was my pleasure to teach on the 16th. The lesson is entitled "Encouraging Enjoyable Family Activities." Okay, let's talk about families for a minute. This example I gave of this young woman whose father is a drug dealer, does she want to do anything with her family? If you come from a broken home, which most of my girls do, would you want to do anything, literally anything, with your family? No. How am I supposed to teach this? (I developed the lesson to include social groups) How are we supposed to teach the lesson entitled "Preparing to be an Eternal Companion" when the girls have absolutely no positive male role-models in their houses to show them what an eternal companion is? (We develop the lesson to talk about roommates)

I also bring this up because I have a very idealistic friend that just posted about raising ducks because the price of eggs is too expensive. Are you ready for your tarnishment that you were so expecting at the end of your post? Now I'm a cynic and I know how the world works not saying that anybody in blogdom that just so happens to run across my page doesn't, but is that what I'm implying? I understand that this might have been a "crazy" flight of fancy but there is some truth to what is being said, even if it is said in jest. For one, I'm glad she got laughed at because it shows how out of touch this idea is.

First, don't ever assume anything about your reader. Just because the world will never be perfect doesn't mean that it is a dreamless world. I dream of being a medical doctor and I sure as shit know this world is going to hell in a hand basket faster than what we are willing to admit.

I'll also answer the question of "How can a person go through the rigors and frustrations and disappointments of life without hope?" They have given into life. They have been caught in the spiral of hopelessness. If you've never been there, you're not justified in talking about it. Here I've broken the cardinal rule about assuming something about my reader. I do have some insight about this person's family and apparently the worst thing that's happend in her married life is soggy rice. Damn, dinner's ruined and I've lost it.

Oh, and I also think you have an improper use of pronouns. It's not "One day I will have a yard in which I will be able to keep some ducks. If I have a dog, he will learn to ignore/get along with them. The ducks will live next to the small pond (I think I want some kind of fish there) and I will have a large vegetable garden." If it were me, I'd discuss these things with my life partner. The phrases should read "One day, we will have a yard in which we will be able to keep some ducks. If we have a dog, Rover will learn to ignore/get along with them. The ducks will live next to the small pond (we want some kind of fish there) and we will have a large vegetable garden."

Go plant something. Oh, and think about how many people on this earth don't have anything to plant or will never have the pond or will buy eggs from the local supermarket because they're only $2 a dozen or know what's it like to get down into the depths of life and build a foundation of their own (stolen phrase from the movie Quizshow).

Am I cynical? I submit the answer to that question is yes.
Am I jaded? I submit the answer to that question is yes.

Don't come knocking on my door and trying to convince me that I'm wrong because these are my opinions and attitudes. Besides, I won't take your baked goods and I might even answer my door with a tank top on and have an R-rated movie playing in the background.

This post has probably ended about three times so I'd like to close with "I'm taking my ball and I'm going home."

The ability to say what I want and not get arrested...oh wait, I might get arrested or loose my job.

2008-02-23T10:20:00.003-07:00

The creative juices have been less than flowing lately. So, creativity has escaped me.

I guess I could do the standard post of "There are other things I could be doing like researching Autism and Fragile X" but do I really want to be researching Autism and Fragile X. Not right now. I could always do that tomorrow, at Tara.

I'm not a poet but that protester complaining about Senator Buttars was a beatnic.

I wish my friend Zane would write me back.

I watched an E! True Hollywood Story the other night about Jenna Jamison.

I've listened to one entire album of Nirvana and it made me so depressed I stopped eating for about 10 minutes.

I hate the fact that at work, since I'm a secretary, I'm at the bottom of the food chain. Let me explain. 1. I received an unvitation to a birthday party of a girl on my team. 2. Everyone on my team received a valentine from our team leader, except me. 3. When I suggest ideas to my boss he shurgs them off but when those same ideas get presented by a recruiter they are implimented within minutes.

I need to become my own boss.

I enjoy doing service for others.

The Streets of 400 South and 700 East

2008-02-19T21:10:00.004-07:00

Not where they intersect but the streets themselves.

Let's start with my least favorite street in Salt Lake City, 400 South.

I hate 400 South. There are lights on every block from Main Street to 900 East and if you miss one, your once short commute from purchasing I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou and The Children of Men by P.D. James at the Barnes and Noble at the Gateway leaves you wondering why you didn't go to the one in Sugarhouse. I've never had any luck with 400 South and I've lived Downtown for two and a half years. I try to avoid 400 South at all costs but sometimes it's necessary, like when I want a Jamba Juice or need to return a movie to Hollywood Video. On those mornings I feel like a Jamba Juice or need to return a movie to Hollywood Video, I always get to the light on 900 East and 400 South too late to trigger the arrow. That forces me to wait another light cycle making me even more late for work. There are so many fast food restaurants on 400 South that I can never make up my mind about what I want for dinner. I mostly hate the light on every block thing.

Next, my second most least favorite street in Salt Lake City, 700 East.

I use 700 East to get to work everyday. If it weren't so convienent, I wouldn't take it. Everyone on 700 East seem to be in a grand hurry. They cut people off, they tail people, they speed. People drive on 700 East as if their grandmother is dying and they need to go say goodbye (this phrase has caught on with my sister "I don't care if your grandmother is dying, obey the law." Let's make this the new, "Hey, man, stop doing stupid things while your driving"). Unlike 400 South, which has an overabundance of food stops, 700 East has a few that strike my fancy. When I need to study or read, I go to Dees. But since that's $15 a pop, I have to make the trek to 400 South, where I'm caught in the light on every block thing. I mostly hate the speeding thing.

Each street has it's pros and cons. Well mostly cons. The biggest con is that they are in an endless cycle of hate by Allison.

Eye opener?

2008-02-11T21:48:00.000-07:00

Maybe for some. For me, not so much.

Be sure to write down your results because it won't let you link. You want to share these with blogdom.

My results are the first comment.

Click here. Select U.S. President.

Post your own!

Eights

2008-02-04T19:18:00.000-07:00

Passionate about:
1. Learning and knowledge
2. The fam
3. Listening
4. Wondering why
5. Music
6. Star Wars and Lord of the Rings
7. Art
8. My young women

Want to:
1. Go back to Vegas
2. Backpack Europe
3. Go to Time's Square for the New Year
4. Practice Psychiatry for a year in Queensland
5. Pay off my car
6. Find that person who will knock my socks off
7. Go to Japan and buy a purple kimono and Hattori Hanzo Sword
8. Meet Chris Carrabba from Dashboard Confessional

Have recently read:
1. Dosage instructions for TheraFlu
2. Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk
3. Deathly Hallows, J.K. Rowling
4. Clear Your Clutter With Feng Shui, Karen Kingston
5. Letters from Elder Bagley
6. The Mist, Stephen King
7. The Tale of the Body Thief, Anne Rice
8. Chapter 3, Yoga, The Spirit and Practice of Moving Into Stillness, Erich Schiffmann

Say:
1. Can't win 'em all.
2. Did you vote?
3. Just because you're 18 and don't know what you want to do with your life doesn't mean you're worthless. Remember that.
4. See that?
5. I only have one stamp left and it's Luke on Tatooine.
6. You're smart and beautiful. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise.
7. I can do this.
8. Everything will be okay.

Attracted to friends by:
1. Ability to understand and being open-minded
2. Conversation
3. Music knowledge
4. Honesty
5. Not being fearful of casual swears
6. Willingness to work
7. Wit

Could listen to over and over:
1. Hot Fuss, The Killers
2. Carnivas, Silversun Pickups
3. Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd
4. Supermassive Black Hole, Muse
5. The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most, Dashboard Confessional
6. Meds, Placebo
7. Prepare to be Wrong, Straylight Run
8. Catch Without Arms, Dredg

Learned this year:
1. I'm still jaded.
2. "I reach for these things because they float on the surface of the darkness in which I am drowning" is a perfect phrase for gospel principals.
3. Las Vegas is a town for adults.
4. Filing your taxes before April 15th gets your refund to your mailbox faster.
5. Start with mistrust and things might go more smoothly.
6. Jimmy John's might be the popular thing around the office but they do make a hell of a rare roast beef sandwich.
7. 2006 went faster than what I anticipated and 2007 was a blink.
8. It's hard to go to the gym every morning but I always have a self esteem boost when I leave.

And:
1. To an extent, I don't care what people think about me.
2. I think I have taste.
3. If I could moonlight as an archeologist, I would.
4. Medical school is gonna be rough.
5. Every minute of life is worth living.
6. Try not to take proximity for granted.
7. I will never drive a minivan.
8. I identify with 15 year olds.

Tag:
1. Ashley
2. Michelle
3. Laverna
4. Um, I only have three to tag

(Thanks TR for this brilliant idea)

Super Bowl

2008-02-02T21:56:00.000-07:00

I am bypassing the customary shindig this year.

Yesteryear, the interest was luke warm.

I'm going to my dad's to watch it and eat my share of bean dip.

Don't hesitate to give me a call if you want to stop by...and meet his three dogs (they can be intimidating but they are really nice).

Go Pats...or Giants...or Cubs...who's playing?

Bon Jovi.

As promised.

2008-01-26T10:00:00.001-07:00

My bench warrent.

It all started in the Summer of 2003. I was pulled over for speeding (almost yearly, haven't been given a speeding ticket in almost two years, I'm crossing my fingers that this trend continues). The usual drill: pay the fine and get a date for traffic school. I'm sure it was explained to me but if you don't show up to traffic school you're breaking a lawful order (failure to appear), and therefore, can get arrested. I missed my traffic school date. Woopsie.

Flash forward to November 28, 2004. I'm in Afghanistan and I receive a letter from my mom with a post-it note that read, "I think you need to take care of this. Love, Mom." I look at the letters. One of them is a statement saying I needed to pay some court costs. The other is a summons to be in front of the Honorable Judge Michael Kwan on November 30, 2004. Being in Afghanistan I had a couple options. Be the hero and tell my First Sergeant I needed to take some emergency leave to go take care of things with the City of Taylorsville - or - call the City of Taylorsville and tell them my situation. I chose the latter.

I was on the phone with Michelle in the City of Taylorsville Court and she said, "The best you can do in your situation is to send us checks for all the fees you have incured and write the judge a letter on your letterhead explaining your situation making sure you include copies of your orders. Be sure to get all the papers noterized." I did just that. It took a couple days to track down a notery but I found one with the JAG.

He asked me what was needing to be noterized and I told him the whole story. He laughed and said, "Fucking government. Can't they look up in their database and see that your kind of not in the country." I shurg my shoulders and say, "I know. Maybe I won't speed anymore."

I get the letters mailed out and I think things are fine and dandy.

Over Memorial Day Weekend 2005 I make my way down to the Sand Dunes to pay a visit to my First Sergeant to make good on a deal, I owed him a case of Bud Light. On my way down I get pulled over for speeding through the city of Lehi. He gives me a ticket and sends me on my merry way.

About two weeks later I'm all moved into my new apartment adjusting to single life and alone living. I'm living my life when the little voice we all have whispers into my ear, "You should go check to make sure everything is taken care of with the City of Taylorsville." I talk myself out of it because in January 2005 I got one of my own checks back with a letter that read, "This matter has already been take care of."

Little voice again, and again, and again.

One Saturday night in July I decided to order some Chinese food and watch a movie. The next day on my home from church I go check my mail because I forgot to check it the day before. I got a letter from the City of Taylorsville. Odd. I open it up and in big, bold letters at the top I read, "Defendant: Allison. Any officer of the peace is authorized to arrest the forementioned defendent and bring them to the City of Taylorsville Court House."

Arrest...Defendant...Allison...Arrest...Allison...Arrest...Me...Arrest me.

Tears streaming down my face. I freak out. I called my dad leaving frantic messages, crying. "Dad, I need help. I don't know what to do." I get a call back, "Allison, calm down, what's wrong? Everything will be okay." Doing that hiccupy crying I say, "The (breath in) Ci- (breath in) -ty of Taylors- (breath in) -ville wants (breath in) to ar- (breath in) ar- (breath in) arrest me. I was in Afghan- (breath in) -istan. I was in Af- (breath in) -ghanistan. I was in Afghanistan." Dad's wife says, "We're in your neighborhood, we'll be right over."

Minutes later I'm hugging my dad and sobbing on his shoulder. He reads though the letter and says, "Allison, we thought you were pregnant. This isn't a big deal. Look at this. You can go get a bench warrent recall on these dates." (In my panicked crying, I must have missed that part of the letter.)

They leave me to my thoughts and leftover Chinese food. I crack open my last fortune cookie. "Your luck has completely changed today." You can't make this stuff up.

I go to the soonest bench warrent recall date (which was the same day as Camille Clawson's wedding reception and the day I met the coolest summer boyfriend I ever had). I'm all dressed up in slacks and a blouse, hair done. I was wearing panty hose. I was among people that were wearing jeans and t-shirts...IN COURT. I had a file with all the copies of my orders and the letters and everything I thought I needed for court. I was practically the last person to see the judge after people who were driving without proof of insurance.

It comes to my turn. I get up in front of the Honorable Michael Kwan and he says, "You were supposed to be in my court on November 30th and on April 30th. Where were you?"

"Sir, on the November court date I was serving with my Utah Army National Guard unit that was deployed to Bagram Air Field, Afghanistan. If I had known I was to be here in April, I would have been here."

I tell my story making sure I use phrases like "Utah Army National Guard" "Deployment" "Afghanistan" "Serving the United States" Stuff like that. I've seen court shows and I wanted to be a lawyer.

As I'm finishing my story the Honorable Judge Michael Kwan looks at me. The City District Attorney looks at me then at the judge then back at me. He stands up from his solitare game on his laptop and says, "Your Honor, the City of Taylorsville is willing to overlook these infractions since she's been serving our country." Judge Kwan looks at me and says, "Is that okay with you?" I nod my head and say, "Yes, your Honor. That's completely fine with me."

Five minutes later, I'm in my car and driving to tell my dad that I was a free woman.

Sociology

2008-01-18T19:21:00.000-07:00

Let me start today's installment off with I can no longer study at Dee's Family Restaurant because there is too much going on. I've been in my Sociology class for two weeks and already I'm looking at the world as social groups.

This brings me to why I wanted to post about Sociology. I have a paper due on the 29th about having a different sociological experience. "5. Attend an activity that is opposite or distinctly different than what you are accustomed to (different church, sporting event, social group, political meeting, school board). Write about how the experience was different from your normal social behavior."

Here's the problem: I was raised in West Valley City and went to a junior high school that had a gang population; I've attended Catholic Mass, Jewish Shabbat, Christian worship services and studied Scientology; I was raised in a staunch Republican family and am a registered Democrat; I'm a woman that was in the military as a vehicle mechanic; I've worked in grocery, construction, food service and in an office; I've been to hell and back and I'm supposed to find something I've never done and go somewhere I've never been.

One thing I can think of that I've never done is attend a "Mormon" church service. You say to yourself, "Allison, you're a Mormon." I would like to submit that I am not. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I'm not a Mormon. I believe being Mormon is a cultural choice and being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is an emotional and spiritual choice. Think, conversion.

(*DISCLAIMER* I know we are all on our own rung of our very own spiritual ladder. This post in no way compares me to you on whichever rung we happen to be on. I am only comparing myself to myself and the experiences I've had in my life with the experiences I've had and am going to have*)

Is it possible to have a completly different cultural experience as I venture to a Utah County Singles Ward?

What will the differences be when I go from my culturally and politically diverse family ward to a not so diverse singles ward?

What will happen when I hear the phrase "Fiber of my being" and want to vomit?

These questions and more will be answered on Sunday.

Things to do in 2008, a list

2008-01-11T17:10:00.000-07:00

Eat more tater tots.
Fold my laundry.
Forget to type my talk for church (Speaking of, if you would like to come: 800 E. 700 S. 11:00 AM Sacrament, January 13, 2008).
Stop watching Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency, Keeping Up with the Kardashians, any VH1 countdown show and My Super Sweet 16.
Try to stay awake for The Soup.
End my new found obsession with Brittney Spears.
Read my text books.
Spend more time with my dad and his wife.
Make my bed more often.
Take my Christmas tree down (crossing my fingers for tomorrow).
Buy the battered fish sticks not the minced ones.
Drive my car for the sake of driving my car.
Blog about Las Vegas and my bench warrent.

Here I Go Again On My Own

2008-01-02T19:38:00.000-07:00

I would like to thank Whitesnake for the title of this entry.

I would like you all to know that I am making a resolution here and now (among many others that I keep in list form on my mirror) to blog weekly.

I think I will make my weekly blog day Friday. Crap. Today is Wednesday. Starting this week you will have two episodes of "Life of Allison" and what she feels shooting out into the cosmic void that is the world wide interweb.

Today's is entitled "Here I Go Again On My Own." It makes me think that maybe it should be called "But Scott, who's going to take over the world when I die. Feels like that so some of us." Let's stay with the Whitesnake thread.

I was at my dad's house for two days. I went over for Christmas and didn't leave until the 27th. It's kinda nice to have a spare bedroom rather than a couch, which I have actually slept on before. I have cable. My dad has satellite. I have 100 channels with nothing but Keeping Up with the Kardashians and he has 1,000 channels of reruns and HBO Latino. Something good that comes from 1,000 channels is our ability to play the game.

The game started when I was a lass, probably age 12 or 13. My dad had a subscription to Time Life Music of the 60's and 70's. Every month he would receive a new CD with the designated year's hits. 1974, 1963. They didn't come in order and each year had a follow up CD. Take for example 1979. The CD for the year was called 1979 and the follow up CD was called 1979: Take Two.

To play the game, Dad would play the CD and I would hold the case. He would then be required to name the artist and title for each song. He was very good at it seeing as though he grew up with the music and practically forced me to play the game...okay, so I willingly played the game because it was time with my dad and with loud music. Sometimes he could get in within the first few riffs but other times he would need a hint. Every hint would be two part: 1. Group or person 2. Initals of said group or person.

The Rolling Stones are to this day called the RSs because I didn't know who sang the song so my dad gave me the hint: 1. Group 2. RS. I drew a blank. Forever known as the girl who didn't know I Can't Get No, Satisfaction was performed by the RSs.

The game is so awesome with satellite because he has about 100 channels that just plays music, all the time, commercial-free. But finally, two (and more) can play at the game. Because they have "College Hits" and "Adult Top 40" and "Garage Rock" and "90s" that I can sometimes take a stab at. The first to say the artist and title get the prize of being the first to say the artist and title. Which almost always spawns the discussion of how one knows the song and why it was on the tip of everyone else's tongue.

When a Beatles song comes on you must name the title and the album it is on. Dad can even go as far as to A or B side. I have no reason to not believe him.

There is a channel that is all RSs.

There is a channel that is all Elvis where you are required to say the song and what phase his career he was in while it was recorded: Young, hot Elvis; Religious Elvis; Paunchy Old Elvis.

Which brings me to my point. Here I Go Again On My Own was playing on the 80s hair band station. I knew the song. I thought I knew the artist. I was trying to think, trying to think, trying to think.

This song was featured in a Strong Bad Email...well it was a The Cheat Email when Seb asks The Cheat if he can run a mile. The Cheat is launched off the Stop Sign in The Tire and he sings the line "Here I go again on my own." Strong Bad Email was really popular in my life before I went to Afghanistan. My sister was taking a Physics class (you know the one with the really thick blue book that kills your book budget) with a couple friends and Merrill challenged her to find out who performed the song. She looked it up and found that it was Whitesnake.

I couldn't put the band with the song so I looked at the screen where the vital information was rolling around the screen like a pong screen saver. FREAKIN' WHITESNAKE! I could've hit my head on the couch. I freakin' knew that. Which is the downside of the game. Profanities usually abound while playing the game because we all know the music better than what we give ourselves credit for.

I enjoy the game because we can play it for hours and not get tired of it. I enjoy the game because it brings the family together. I enjoy the game because if we plead our case correctly by saying the song's almost over then we can listen to the next song or even hear more of the song that we want to hear.

Good times.

I snuck into the library.

2007-11-10T13:03:00.000-07:00

Free to all.

I really didn't sneak. I borrowed my sister's husband's user ID and password to the University of Utah's system of unrestricted research materials. Which reminds me I need to find that article. Maybe they have a hard copy of it...be right back.

Okay, here's the article:

Symposium on Terrorism, War and Justice: The Ethics of Killing in War
Jeff McMahn

A good Consequentialist argument against war could be made from the book On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society by LTC Dave Grossman. If you've ever wondered why humans have an aversion to killing another human and the switch the government gives a service member to turn that off I highly suggest putting this on your non-fiction reading list. I've read it.

In our group presentation for my Ethics class I was given the assignment of the anti-war and anti-terrorism ethical stance. I'm going to double dip. The title of my research paper is going to be "Was My War Ethical: a (fill in ethical stance here) Stance"

For example: Was My War Ethical: a Feminist Stance
or
Was My War Ethical: a Divine Command Theorist's Stance

Sounds like fun, huh?

I better get cracking on this one because the paper is due on the 19th and the group presentation is on the 26th.

When it rains it pours.

2007-09-22T19:20:00.000-06:00

Car broken.
Debit card missing.
Phone grew legs.
All in the same week.

Yes this is my life.

Speeding

2007-08-25T23:41:00.000-06:00

I get speeding tickets not warnings.

August 1999. The summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school I coached a junior league water polo team. I was on my way to practice when I was pulled over for going 53 miles per hour in a 40 zone. I was in high school. I had no money. "Daddy, um, I got, um, a speeding ticket, um, this afternoon. I don't know what to do." He came to my rescue. "You need to take this check to the city then sign up for this traffic school so it doesn't go on your record and so it doesn't make my insurance payment go up." I did just that.

July 2000. The summer between my junior and senior years in high school I was on my way to my mother's place of employment. I was pulled over for going 48 in a 35. Same drill, asked Daddy for money and went to traffic school.

September 2003. I was pulled over for going 55 in a 40. Sent the money in, signed up for traffic school but didn't attend. This is acutally a violation of a court order called a Plea in Abayance which, as I found out about two years later, results in a bench warrent for my arrest...post to come.

May 2005. I was going down to the Dunes to give a gift to my First Sergeant. I was pulled over for going 83 in a 65. Payed the ticket and went to traffic school...in Lehi.

August 2007. I was going home. In an annoyed state because of Utah drivers I reached speeds upto and including 95 miles per hour. I see the Utah Highway Partol car and slow down. To no avail the flashing red and blue lights make their way over. License, insurance and registration are handed to the nice officer and she asked me why I was pulled over. "I was speeding," came my quick reply because it's never anything else. "Yes," she said. "I'll be right back. Which one of these addresses is home, I have three here." I tell her my address and she walks away. My license was issued when I was living with my mom. My registration for some ungodly reason goes to my father's address and my insurance goes to my address. We've tried squaring the state away on the registration but they won't listen. Stairway to Heaven is playing on the radio during the duration of her background search on me. She makes her way back to my car and gives me my information back and says, "I'm going to give you a warning. Please slow it down so you're not passing cars so it looks like they are standing still."

I was elated! A warning. I've never received a warning for speeding. Probably because she didn't have a good radar on me. I was going 95 at one point and she only wrote it for 80 in a 65. Maybe I skirted the system. It's nice just to get a warning because rent needs to come out of this check.

The Ten-Year Plan

2007-08-14T20:21:00.000-06:00

The last week of May marked the first time in my post-Afghanistan life I had direction. When something flattens you like a piano falling from the 18th floor of an apartment building, you listen. I was sitting at work doing my normal team assistant/secretary thing that I have grown to be very good at and, in turn, to be very bored with. I turned to talk to my co-worker and the baby grand came out of nowhere. I needed to go back to school. Okay...now? Now's as good a time as any.

What should I study? The golden question. A trip to Washington D.C. confirmed the fate that I would never be a Senator or a Congressperson or President or a Supreme Court Justice. Watching my sister and my mother struggle in the public school system with absolutely no support from the State Legislature didn't blow my skirt up. Manual labor or trades in mechanics was completely out the window. A professional personal or adminstrative assistant would become dull.

I was a student at the University of Utah after basic training when I thought I wanted to be a lawyer. I fell into the social aspect of college rather than the full-time student. I played pool rather than read my Political Science book. I flirted rather than wrote the paper that was due the next day. Thankfully I did well enough in my science, math and writing courses to transfer 23 hours to Salt Lake Community College. It just so happens that those 23 hours became the hours I needed to fulfill most of my general education requirements. It really couldn't have turned out more perfect.

The piano hit me again. This one was an upright. I always wondered why I came home from Afghanistan having nightmares and never wanting to sleep. I would be up until two, three, four sometimes five in the morning. After proper therapy I was able to sleep again but it got me thinking. Why did I go half way around the world, see no combat, sing songs, smile a lot, run paperwork and come back with alcoholism and an acute case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? That's it, Allison. That's what you need to do. What happens inside a person's mind that makes that happen?

I've always been fascinated with how things work. I learned how a car worked. When I was 12 I took apart a VCR, a rotery telephone and a hair drier to see the gears and the boards. What could be more exciting to study than the human mind? What could me more fulfilling than watching and helping someone become a functional member of society? I want to help people do that. Psychiatry.

Now what? I know what I want to do. How do I get there? The only to get there: Associate's Degree in Psychology, Bachelor's Degree in Biology, medical school, Psychiatry residency, Child and Adolescent Psychiatry fellowship while doing volunteer work at the Department of Veteran's Affairs and extensive study in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Acute Stress Disorder.

This usually brings up the question: Will you be my shrink?

We'll see.

IKEA

2007-06-02T15:23:00.000-06:00

"The Swedish furniture giant has come to Utah."
"Was he a plant for IKEA?"
"It must be a slow news day when the opening of a furniture store makes the front page."

I thought the hype would be over but I was wrong. Besides, I didn't have anything to do this afternoon. After a brief conversation about behavior issues I told my dad I was going down to the new IKEA. He asked if I wanted to wait in line. I made the 15 minute drive from my father's work to Draper and found myself overtaken by a blue building with yellow wording on it. Men in construction orange shirts directed me to the best parking spot (on the east side of the building). I parked and made my way in.

Upstairs is the Showroom. Just as I stepped of the top of the escallator I heard a 12 year old boy say, "Why doesn't America sell things like this?" I giggeled and realized I was in premium blogging atmosphere. Luckly at the top of the moving stairs there were paper maps and pencils. The intention of the map is a convienent back page that became a shopping list but I found it more helpful for taking notes of my adventure.

Hanging signs in Swedish and English catch the wind and are constantly moving. Bold colors of printed letters adorn the walls. One wall sucked me in: Furnish your living room for $1,125. I'm game. I walked into the space and found a couch, end and coffee tables and a televison stand and a price tag on each of them that added all the furniture up to $1,125. I was amazed. How is this accomplished? I wondered.

I have been in the market for a new couch for a while. I looked at local places like RC Willey and the Road Redwood place but couldn't find anything contemporary enough to suit me. My mother's furniture store. I knew it was just a matter of time until I could find a furniture store with the young, single woman in mind, IKEA is the place for me. The living room sets just so happen to be the first thing one sees in their Showroom. I sat on every couch. My nose crinkled up as my body fell onto each sofa. Too hard, not fuzzy enough, leather, I don't like those feet, what's the deal with the head rests. Until I found it. Ekesog Sofa in Roen Brown.

I was reminded of a scene from Fight Club. The narrorator, played by Edward Norton, has a condo that was his life. "Like so many others I had become a slave to the IKEA nesting instinct. 'Yes, I'd like to order the Erica Pikari dust ruffles.' If I saw something clever, like a little coffee table in the shape of a yin yang, I had to have it. The Tjenste sofa with the string green stripe pattern. Even the lamps of envrionmently friendly, unbleached paper. I'd flip through catalogs and wonder what kind of dining set defined me as a person. I had it all. Even the glass dishes with tiny bubbles and imperfections. Proof that they were crafted by the honest, simple, hard-working, indiginous peoples of...wherever."

The Ekesog sucked me in. I shifted myself into a lying position. Comfortable. I might even find myself sleeping on a couch more than my own bed. My dual purpose map not only became my notebook for the afternoon but it was also handy in writing down the product name, qty, aisle and bin numbers. If I so desired I could pick up these items at the end of my IKEA journey. Although it was impossible for me to purchase this couch today, I will have this couch eventually.

Another painted wall read "Living in 376 square feet." They managed to furnish a space of 376 square feet. Small kitchen table, queen size bed. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. They did it. Those of you that have been to Europe, I ask that you back me up on this. Since the United States is going the way of the condo maybe the Europeans had it right when it comes to furnishing a space that is less than 600 square feet. Cabinits that rolled out like flatwear drawrs so you can see the shelf from both sides rather than streigning to see the top shelf on your tippy-toes. It was person height so I could see the top shelf. I felt the only thing that wasn't European was the electrical outlets.

(Side note: I started counting pregnant women walking around the store. In my hour and a half in the store my final tally was 16. Half were really pregnant. I'd rank this number two to the Utah County Wal*Mart where walking around for a half hour we saw three and one had three other kids in toe.)

Heading down the stairs to the Marketplace I heard one man say "I feel this is worse than a freakin' theme park. This is a joke." I had to disagree with him because the IKEA is like a new baby. Everyone wants to see it so everyone will see it. One of the differences is that the IKEA will not get sick. In the Marketplace they sell all the accessories for the furniture you just purchased. Rektangle Vase for $2.49; Stuffed Toy Snake for $4.99; Dishtowel for $0.99; Wok for $6.99; and even your garbage can be in style for $1.99. I saw abstract art that now everyone will have. Isn't the point of art to have a one of a kind?

It was on this floor that my question about all this furniture being so inexpensive was answered. I interpreted a hanging sign to my understanding: It's inexpensive because designers place the price first then design the furniture. Then I thought: set your budget first then don't go above it. Now doesn't that make sense.

I don't think it was too bad of an afternoon. I enjoyed watching the people. I enjoyed the hype. I enjoyed the comments. I could definately say I will go back and look at comfortors for my bed. When I save enough money, that is.

Hollywood

2007-05-21T21:49:00.001-06:00

This list is long overdue.

I find myself attracted to these individuals on screen as they play characters but would I find myself attracted to them if I got to know them? (in no particular order)

1. Edward Norton
2. Jason Schwartzman
3. Zachary Quinto
4. James Spader
5. Tim Curry
6. Kevin Spacey
7. Joel McHale
8. James Woods
9. Jonathan Tucker
10. (not really a character) Bobby Flay

It wouldn't surprise me if I found out that any of these men are homosexual.

I strongly think that it's the characters they are playing that I am attracted to. All have great qualities. Some play bad guys, some play good guys. One cooks very well and one has great eyes...well most of them have great eyes. If anyone can find any common theme please let me know. 50% have given names that start with the letter J.

Just throwing this out there.

The imperfections that can crawl into one's body and ruin their health.

2007-05-05T07:11:00.000-06:00

I never sleep well when I'm sick.
This sickness has taken away my voice.
There's something going on in my throat and ears that is no good.

The last time this happened I was getting ready to deploy. One morning I woke up and without warning my throat was killing me. I went to the flight surgeon and we talked about my symptoms:

Runny nose: No
Chest congestion: No
Coughing: Some
Sneezing: No
Head or body ache: No

Then he got his stethoscope and listened to my lungs. Well nothing in there.

His diagnosis: Tonsillitis

Perfect. We are literally three weeks away from leaving the valley and I have Tonsillitis. He gave me Penicillin. After I completed all of the pills I was fine.

Flash forward to three and a half years later. Same thing.

I woke up the day before I was going to leave for DC. Throat killing me. We went to the doctor and go over my symptoms:

Runny nose: No
Chest congestion: No
Coughing: Some
Sneezing: No
Head or body ache: No
Does it feel worse in the morning or along in the day: Morning
Does eating or drinking anything help it: Drinking things does
Hot or cold things: Both
Have you tried both: Yes. I drink hot tea and cold water all day at work

He got his stethoscope out and listened to my lungs: Couldn't ask for anything clearer.

He swabbed the inside of my throat for Strep: Nope

He said that my Tonsils look inflamed. He prescribed me Amoxicillin and sent me on my merry way. As I was taking the pills my symptoms subsided. The second they ran out it was au revoir to normalcy. No like I stated I can't sleep, my voice is gone and my throat and ears are all jacked up.

I have an appointment to see my family doctor on the 9th but I can't stand it for five more days. I'm going to Urgent Care today when they open...after I watch i heart huckabees.

Why I've been a bad blogger and friend

2007-05-01T23:09:00.000-06:00

I would like to help you to envision my first third of 2007.

My co-worker, in the nicest terms, bitches about everything. Her computer is always too slow, her daughter is always too self-centered, her work load is always too demanding, her body is always in pain, her family always seems to have problems on Friday afternoon so she has to leave early.

In January, she took on the responsibility of being the Scheduling Team Assistant. She prepares work Visa documents for our doctors that are being placed in practices overseas. She would complain that she has too much to do. Rather than put up with it I finally said, "I'll start being the Team Assistant for all three teams because you seem to be doing way too much." Finally, after six weeks of me telling her that I can take on the website leads and I can do things for the other team and I can work more than the three hours I have been working, she walked into talk to Al about giving me all her work.

When I say all her work, I mean all her work. I started receiving all the doctor and nurse leads from the website, I started doing all the scanning, I started doing all the sorting. In actuality, I was the team assistant for three teams or the whole office.

"I need to request a Certificate of Good Standing from Saudi Arabia. Allison, what time is it in Saudi Arabia?"

"Well, they are on the other side of the planet so I'd say about 12 hours difference. It's night time there right now."

"I don't know how to get this done because I'm not coming in here in the middle of the night to try to talk to someone that probably doesn't even speak English."

"That's your job isn't it?"

Meanwhile, in the Batcave, my brother marries his soul mate in every sence of the word.

Meanwhile, in Wayne Manor, my mother books her flight, hotel and car to go do a residency in Virginia for her Doctorate.

Meanwhile, in the land of the Church (and since I've been really sick of the single scene in my ward), I start attending my family ward and receive the calling of Stake Young Single Adult Representative for the Relief Society side. Yes, I typed Stake. Oh, the irony.

By now it's mid-March. I'm working almost nine hour days and I'm ready to rip my hair out because my co-worker has just had a huge weight lifted off her shoulders. But she still won't shut up.

(insert slam noise here) "My computer is so damn slow."
"Well, my daughter decided that she wants to run away from home."

In the Batcave, there is trouble in paradise. My new sister-in-law, come to find out, has been treated like a doormat her whole life and her sister lied about my mother.

In Wayne Manor, my mother's financial aid falls throught and she is stuck with this plane ticket, car and hotel that is literally 30 minutes away from Washington DC. On occasion I spend the night at her place when I'm too tired to drive home. It gets to be about midnight and she comes downstairs and asks me if I want to go to DC with her and she'll pay for my plane ticket. How can I turn down that offer?

In the land of the Church, I'm introduced to many people because not only am I the Park Stake representative as a leader, I am also part of a multi-stake committee striving to make the Younng Single Adult Program work on a multi-stake level. I'm the go-between for my ward, my stake and the multi-stake committee.

I'm still working nine hour days but now for a purpose. I need to bank as much freakin' time I can before I go to DC so I don't go into the hole on paid time off. Then the projects came.

"Allison, we need to update all the practice discriptions on the website."
"Allison, we need you to write five contracts."
"Allison, we need you to train up this temp before you go on vacation."
"Allison, we need you to organize all the shipping for the conferences we are going to."
"Allison, we need you to check the website leads 5 million times a day."

It's Tuesday. I leave for vacay on Wednesday. The temp shows up smelling of cigarette smoke. Great. I train her up on what she needs to do and then kick her out of my chair because I need to get a load of things done before I go. In the time I'm training her I find that she is on probation for drugs. The judge said to her either you go to jail or you loose your daughter. So she went to jail. Well she was the most reliable person on the planet because she didn't show up the next day. My mom made me promise that I wouldn't worry about work while I was gone, so I didn't.

(Side note: I have no idea why people think it is important to open their lives up to me in the first 60 minutes of knowing me. I guess it makes me realize that my life doesn't suck as bad as I think it does)

While I was on vacation my boss deemed in necessary to hire another team assistant to lighten the workload. I took a lunch every day last week. I haven't done that in weeks. It's only been within the last week that I've been able to see the surface of my desk again.

I know I haven't returned phone calls and for that I apologize but I'd like to make up to all of you by throwing a get together in honor of the International Children's Day in Japan. So bring your brightly colored paper carp and I'll make rice dumplings.

My apartment
May 5th
6ish

Or if you know of any rad Cinco de Mayo get togethers, I'll still make rice dumplings. Let me know what you think.

Luck

2007-03-27T20:56:00.000-06:00

1994

KISN 97

On Saturday night at 10:00 they would play the top ten songs of the week. If you kept track of the songs, was caller number seven and could read back all the songs from 10 to 1 you would win a CD Three-Pack of KISN music.

I was caller number seven. I won a CD Three-Pack. My dad took me to the station to choose the CDs and take a quick tour. I was 12.

~

1996

Bee 98.7

If you wrote a letter to the radio station and it was selected at random you won two front row, third base line seats to a (then) Buzz game and have you name announced between the top and the bottom of the 6th inning as some sort of Bee 98.7 Super Fan.

I wrote a letter. They selected it. I got a too big T-shirt and I took my dad to a baseball game. There were fireworks. Dad always said that they were for me. I was 14.

~

2007
94.9 The Blaze

Nightly, Victor Cade does the Blaze Mystery Riff. If you know the riff and are the first caller with the correct title and artist, you win...something.

The Mystery Riff for the evening was Take a Picutre by Filter. The second I heard it I grabbed my phone and called. I was driving home and crossing the intersection of 2100 South and 700 East. I was right, gave Victor Cade some love (over the phone) and I won tickets to go see a band that I don't even know. I'm even qualified to get a guitar lesson from a guitarist in the unknown band.

I did research. See below.

~~~

If you know:

Killswitch Engage
Dragonforce
Chimaira
He Is Legend

You can have the tickets. These guys are totally NOT my style. They are playing at the Great SaltAir on Friday. Just let me know.

~

Dad says I need to win the lottery for $40 million. It's on the list of things to do.

I resolve to...

2007-03-24T13:55:00.000-06:00

...make my gym membership work for me rather than me working for it.

When I went to visit a good friend in Colorado over the snow filled New Year we were asked what we resolve to do in the new year.

"...study more."
"...talk to my mom more often."
"...better understand God's will for me."

Okay, so that last one was probably what we all should've said.

I, like a sellout, resolved to loose the post-deployment, fast-food eating, TV watching tummy, ass and thighs that I have so lovingly had a regret for since coming home. Which brings me to the actual point of my post.

Actual point of my post:
I workout at 24-Hour Fitness. It's very close to my home and work. This morning while I was running there was a fellow member on the tread mill. She had it on super incline but instead of walking so her body was making a 90 degree angle to the ground she was holding onto the front of the machine so her body was perpendicullar to the incline. Doesn't this defeat the purpose of hill mode?

Your thoughts?

Life...for a Sabo.

2007-03-13T21:29:00.000-06:00

Have you ever...
...wanted to run away and go to a place where no body knows you?
...wanted to seek out a friend?
...told said friend everything that was happening in your life?
...been accused of something you never did?
...had your character smothered by a dishonest person?
...given in?
...wished you were never juded harshly by the opinions of a dishonest person?
...gone on with life because you know it's not up to you how someone handles a situation?
...had a regret?
...wondered what was going to happen tomorrow?
...had to take life one day at a time?
...imagined what life would be like if you had never joined the Army?

Okay, so that last question is for me.

Why must lessons always be learned the hard way for me? Why, when I get to to a point in my life when my lips and nose are above the water, I'm handed a drinking straw and my face sinks again?

I guess life has never been easy.

My parents loved eachother enough to have three absolutely hot children. But that didn't stop my father from being abusive. That also didn't stop my mother from leaving him after more than 20 years of marriage.

The choices I've made and repented of have come back to haunt me. I know this is Lucifer's way of making sure I don't forget what I did. I need to remember that the Savior remembers my sins no more. My clothing has been made white by the atoning blood of the Lamb.

Please, why can't he leave me alone?

It's cheaper to go to Europe for a month than it is to go to New York City for two weeks.

2007-02-24T10:01:00.000-07:00

My 30th birthday is in five and a half years. That's a blink of an eye.

There are so many things I want to do before I turn 30.

In talking to a friend last night I found that many of her goals are the same as mine. These are my goals:
1. Graduate
2. Read a paperback on a beach in Australia
3. Backpack Europe
4. Become Big in Japan...in my own mind
5. Scale one Pyramid of Giza

In researching item #3 this morning I found that my European Experience is definately possible to do before my 26th birthday when I am still able to receive a discount rail pass. I think the wording on the website was, "Just graduated and want to see what the world has to offer? Putting off college for a while?" I think I fall into that second category.

Thus begins the planning of EuroBackpacking Trip Spring 2008.

Dreams et all.

2007-02-03T09:32:00.000-07:00

I had a dream yester-night about how bad my neck hurt (which really isn't a dream, my neck really does hurt).

In my dream I was lying in my bed on a pillow that was made out of some sort of substance that was cold. It seemed to be helping with the pain but the pillow got warm. I got out of bed holding the frozen pillow and thought, "I better put this in the freezer." I placed the pillow in what I thought was the freezer and got back in bed.

I woke up.

I walked by my closet and saw that it was closed. Odd. I thought I left it open.

I opened my closet to find my cuddle pillow resting on my pile of shoes.

Since I was young I had a tendency to talk and walk in my sleep. I guess one never grows out of that. My sister recalls have conversations with me while I was asleep, always ending with, "Allison, go back to bed." My mom would tell me that when I would walk in my sleep my eyes would be wide open. I can imagine myself in my night clothes groping my way upstairs, through the kitchen and down the hall to my mom's room to talk to her or ask her a question to which she always replied, "Allison, go back to bed." In my limbo of slumber I would obey.

I've heard stories about people walking out of their houses while asleep. I never wanted that to happen to me.

It could be worse, I could be Jake Gyllenhaal's character in Donnie Darko.

Why my sister teaches.

2007-01-20T09:01:00.000-07:00

As we all know my sister made a concious decision to teach public junior high schoool math.

The adminstration (heretofore refered to as "the Dark Side") has decided to semesterize math. Which means on Monday she gets a whole new set of students that have had totally different math training and discipline from the other math teachers (heretofore refered to as "the Storm Troopers"). The Dark Side thinks this is a good idea and the Storm Troopers are going along with every whim of the Dark Side.

I disagree with the choice of the Dark Side to semesterize math. I think it is doing a huge disfavor to the students.

My sister doesn't teach for the money, she doesn't teach for the prestege, she doesn't teach because it's what her mom did. She teaches for the students. The following are excerps from letters her students wrote when they found out they must leave her class on Monday.

"This is the funnest class ever. You have been the best teacher for my whole entire life of school. I want to be your TA for next year just to be in the classroom. ...this class is the best class ever in the history of school."

"I want to thank you for being such a nice and understandable math teacher. In all other years I have failed most of my math classes because I didn't understand how they were explaining it to me. ...you take your time to expalin things...and I don't get frustrated. I hope I have you next year because I know if I do, I will have a good grade in math."

"Thank you for giving everyone a chance."

"What I learned in your class was the rules and to stop talking alot. I would like you to know that you teached me well and I like that and I will try my best to do well in math for the rest of my life."

"...you were the only teacher that I enjoyed. You made me understand math. I liked how you described things like if you push a wrong button on the calculator you said a world would blow up. All those memories won't be the same without the deadly duo like me and *Stephen. I can't think of one time you didn't laugh...Okay, maybe I can. I wish you can come eat lunch with me and all my friends again, that was really fun. Please write back."

"Thank you for being the best teacher that I have ever had because you have helped me when I needed it and you explain things better than any other teacher has ever done and you have just so much fund doing it. You are the coolest...person that I have ever met and that is alright in my book. I have had so much fun in your class..and that is what inspired me to be a teacher like you. I will never forget you...becuase you have been such a big part of my life in 9th and 8th grade. You would always help me when you didn't have to in 8th [because you weren't my teacher until 9th]. So thank you again from the bottom of my heart. ...I will try to visit you when I am in high school as much as possible."

"This letter is to thank you for your efforts in class helping me through half a year of algebra. I really appreciate the way you have taught me everything I know now. You did a great job to help me understand thing and do good on all my papers and tests in your class. I really did learn alot. I really wish I could stay in your class because every time you would teach something new I would be able to understand it. You taught very well and made math very easy for me. I really do not want to go to Ms. *Lee's 7th period. Thank you very much. I loved the time I spent in your class. I learned a lot and it wasn't hard because you did a very good job of teaching."

I'm very glad for people like my sister. She touches lives.

*Names changed.

Invitation

2007-01-17T21:34:00.000-07:00

click here

Just keep swimming.

2007-01-13T08:39:00.000-07:00

I revert back to when I was seven years old.

My mom has a picture of me getting into my dad's kitchen junk drawer. I'm wearing a pink sweat shirt and matching sweat pants. My mouth is wide open in surprise. The look on my face: busted!

I think of how easy life was for me when I was in first grade. All life back then, like Jerry Seinfeld put it, was settled in kid court (He called it). Our rule for the TV: if you turned it on, you had control until you relinquished command. This would cause me to wake up at ungodly hours to watch the Bozo the Clown Show on WGN. On Saturdays and during the summer we would seperate TV watching by shows. We would rotate. I was mean and always made sure I was in the rotation where my TV show was going to be in my time slot.

I had a million stuffed animals that were all arranged, biggest in the back/smallest in the front, on a vintage coffee table. Dimesntions 24 inches by 80 inches. A selection of my favorite were placed on my bed when on the rare occasion it was made. It was a sad day when I donated 90% of my stuffed animals to the DI. I think I was going into high school.

I had a collection of books I never read.

I had awards for drill team.

I listened to KKDS on the AM radio dial. I would call and make requests.

I had long blonde hair and a crush on every boy.

I would sit up with my father late at night and watch him type numbers into an old 10-key calculator and balance his check book. He had his desk and I had mine. He would give me paper and pen to draw with while I heard the familliar noises of the machine behind me. I would change the channel on the 13-inch TV he had to MTV. But I'd keep it turned down low as to not wake my sister up or for him to find out.

When he decided to come to church I would jet over to sit on his lap.

Life was so much simpler when I was seven.

Iraq

2007-01-10T20:58:00.000-07:00

Here is how it's going to work. IF I get the call this is the order of how people in my life are informed:

1. Family
2. The Ward
3. Work
4. Bloggers
5. Everyone else

There are always exceptions to some of these rules, ie. If I've ever called you a brother or a sister and meant it, you're family.

I quite literally don't know if I'm going anywhere. These things take time. I'll have my brave face on. You'll know.

I'm not going anywhere until I have that paper in my hand.

What, me worry?

Trinitrotoluene

2007-01-01T11:47:00.000-07:00

I have no luck with airports or cell phones (dead battery).

I missed my flight. This is my own fault. I should have been up earlier. I know we wanted to get more sleep but it was the wrong choice.

I got to the Denver Airport and saw the very long line for check-in. As soon as I got into the line that little voice inside me said, "You're going to miss your flight." Aw man. I get to the front of the line after a half hour runs by and the computer says I'm too late for check-in. Justifiable, it was 20 minutes before take off. The nice lady at the economy check-in desk told me to go to another line to rebook.

I make my way and behind me in that line was a very nice Japanise man. He was so nice that I knew what kind of soap he used that morning. I'm trying to smush my way away from the nice Japanise man but he keeps getting closer. He tries to strike up a conversation but his English is very broken.

I get to the front of the self-dubbed "Loser Line" and I inform the clerk that I missed my flight. What are my options? Stand-by. Great. The next flight for Salt Lake City boards at 8:30. It was 7:45 by now. I'm placed on stand by and I ask what the procedure is. I show up at the gate and wait. Great. I take my stand-by ticket and make my way to the most confusing cheese at the end of the maze security line I have ever seen.

I switchback my way back and forth. I hand my stand-by ticket and ID to the lady. Soon thereafter, I am then ushered to the random super security line. Little puffs of air infuse my body, almost refreshing. I remove my bag, shoes, jacket, scarf and hat to be sent through the x-ray machine. After the x-ray machine they take my bag and test it for explosive residue.

I remember when they were doing this just after September 11th. They take the little wand and that little patch of cloth and rub it on the contact points of the bags. Cool.

The lady takes the little patch out of the wand and places it into the explosives sniffer thingie. A buzzer goes off on my little patch of cloth. She looks at me. I'm reclothing myself. Then the question: "Has this bag been out of your posession since you packed it?"

My eyes widen. Bigger than saucers. "No."

She talked into her radio, "I need a supervisor at lane 11." A chipper older gentleman comes to her rescue. Looking at the printout from the explosivers sniffer thingie he informs me that my bag tested positive for TNT. Eyes widen more.

Come again?

Recall what is on my bag. First, it's an Army bag with a flag on it; printed on it are the letters US. What could those stand for? Second, I'm wearing an Army sweater, only the trained eye could see that one. The supervisor asked, "Are you military?"

"Yes."

"Have you been in contact with ammunitions that might have rubbed of onto your bag."

"Not lately."

"Have you been overseas?"

"Yes but that bag didn't go with me."

I think he saw the state of confusion on my face and that there is nothing I would want to do to hurt civilians of this great country so he filled out some paperwork and sent me on my way. I thanked him for keeping us safe and he returned the thank you. I'm not a terrorist.

I make my way to the gate and to the lady that is holding my fate on this flight.

"I've never been on stand-by. What's the procedure?"

"Is your name Sabo (pronuce SAW bo)?"

"Yep." What's the point in arguing?

"I have a seat for you."

Yes, this is my life.

Flowers.

2006-12-31T10:13:00.000-07:00

I am an
Iris

What Flower
Are You?

"You are a very sensual person. You like to experience all the sights, smells, tastes and textures the world has to offer. Ordinary be damned, because you want to do it all."

This one comes from the loving mind of Chester. I enjoy his antics.

All in all I think it's true.

Mishaps and adventures all in day one.

2006-12-28T13:08:00.000-07:00

I think it just started out bad.

My sister and her husband came over to play card games with me last night. We put in Clue as background noise and went away. It was very fun until we looked at the clock. 11:30 PM. Holy crap. I have a cab picking me up at 5:30 to go to the airport ($12 minimum). We said our goodbyes and I got into bed. Like a kid before Christmas I couldn't get to sleep. I was so excited to be going to Denver for the New Year that I didn't get to sleep unitl 1:00 in the morning.

The alarm clock goes off and a phone call shortly thereafter. It's 4:00. Who could possibly be calling me at this hour? It was Orbitz.com informing me that my flight was due to take off on time. I knew that. I got out of bed and couldn't shake the feeling of needing to go to the ATM to get some cab fare. I go to Smith's and withdraw $120 ingoring the feeling for me to withdraw $220.

I get home and pack. That seems normal since I didn't do it the night before. I beautify myself and go outside to wait for my taxi. I'm only waiting a short time when I see him flip a U-turn to come retreive me from the light dusting of snow. He takes me to the airport ($12 minimum). I hand him a Jackson.

I get in line for check-in making sure the line I am standing in is the line for check-in. Success. I would hate to be standing in the wrong line. Done that before. The time is now 5:45 AM. My flight is scheduled to depart at 7:00 AM. The line seems to be moving at a pace above lethargic. A nice man in a fleece vest informs us that there is a kiosk to check-in. All we need is the credit card that we puchased the plane ticket with.

Sold.

I retreived my wallet from the depths of my bag and search through the card holder. No card. I look again as if the outcome was going to be different. Still no card. I realize that at my 4:00 AM withdrawl of funds I left my ATM card in the machine. It was one of those machines that sucks your card into it. Don't worry. They can still check you in using your ID. Great. But I have no debit card. I'm not about to turn around and go back to the bank because the card is gone.

I check onto the flight noticing a few "beautiful people" checking in using their United First Class Gold Medallion Plus Club Membership. I then walked to the very long line to go through security. They successfully find no weapons on my person. I place my boarding pass in my mouth so my hands could be free to collect my things. I start walking forward when I hear a voice sternly say, "Watch out." I almost tripped over a little who, who was no more than two.

I apologize my head off to the who's mother. She said, "Don't worry. He wasn't looking where he was going when he was crawling around." To which I responded, "But I had my ticket in my mouth and I couldn't see down. Again, I'm sorry." We parted ways.

I ask a secruity guard if there was anywhere in the airport that would cash a personal check. No such luck.

I start to stroll to my gate and see that it is open. Are they boarding already? The ticket said 6:40. It's only 6:15. I get up to the gate and they are calling for final passengers to go to San Francisco. The "beautiful people" were rushing their way through the not so busy 6:00 in the morning airport to make their flight to the Bay Area. They held the entire flight up for them. Please note: They got to the United First Class Gold Medallion Plus Club Membership check-in line before I got to the standard check-in line. I received my boarding pass, made it through security and to the gate at least 10 minutes before they were holding up an entire flight of people wanting to make it to San Francisco...on time. I think this is a little selfish, but that's me.

I board the flight and think all is going according to plan. No such luck. We were 15 minutes passed our take-off time and we still had to de-ice the wings.

The landing in Denver was as smooth as a hot knife through butter. We were supposed to land at 8:18 AM but we didn't land until 9ish. All the while Ashley's mom is circling the pick-up area.

I get to the house. I marvel at all the snow that has fallen and is still falling the Denver area. I get on the horn and ask what I am to do about my debit card. The bank teller says that the card will be destroyed. I let him know that I will be in Denver until the 1st and ask him if there is any way the bank can wire money to an account in Denver Western Union style. He said that is something my family would need to take care of for me.

I go to the Western Union website and find that the only for me to pick up money is with my bank issued debit/credit card which is currently in pieces in the Zion's Bank in Smith's on 900 East.

Yes, this is my life.

If only in my dreams...

2006-12-23T16:35:00.000-07:00

25 DEC 2004

It was required for me to go to work that day. On every holiday I would email my address book, "Happy/Merry (insert paid holiday here). We work so you don't have to."

The Lieutenant had to fly that morning so he made me promise I wouldn’t open presents without him. I waited patiently for his return. We distributed presents to the company and we went back to our Christmas tree and opened presents. Santa (Jeremy) brought me a robe. A purple robe that I wear all the time.

Jeremy and I went to dinner in the Dining Facility. They had turkey, cranberry sauce, ham, breaded shrimp, steak, potatoes, rice, steamed vegetables and gravy. We got our plates of gluttony and set them on the table. We walked passed buckets filled with ice and bottles sparkling apple cider with a real cork. Each of us grabbed one. We also noticed tables of pie.

Apple pie, cherry pie, pumpkin, mince meat, pecan, the list continues. What better to go on pie than whipped cream? At each table there was a can of whipped cream. The kind you shake and it makes the cool noise when you press the nozzle at an angle. The kind you always sprayed into your mouth while your parents weren't looking. Did our eyes deceive us? Real whipped cream?

There was one Facility worker that was in charge of replenishing the empty cans with full ones. Jeremy and I had two cans between us. There was more whipped cream on our pie then there was pie. That was the first bit of whipped cream that I consumed since Thanksgiving the year prior.

I awaited my turn to call my mother and father.

I called my father first. I was in our company phone booth for at least 20 minutes fighting all the other soldiers that were calling their families and waiting for a phone line to the United States. When someone picks up the line on the other end that is your signal to close the phone booth door and start the 15 minute time limit. I sang a song for my father:

I'll be home for Christmas. You can count on me.
Please have snow and mistletoe and presents on the tree.
Christmas Eve will find me where the love lights gleam.
I'll be home for Christmas. If only in my dreams.

After my father wiped the tears from his eyes he wished me a Merry Christmas.

Repeat scenario for my mother. Only while I was singing to her, I cried. I told her I wished I could be home for Christmas but it just wasn’t in the cards. She understood.

I was home for Christmas in my dreams.

I was six years old again. Coming upstairs from my room and seeing my Christmas presents wrapped in the paper I chose out, The Flintstones with a blue background. I remember seeing the rainbow quilt that my mother made at my grandma's house so we thought Santa brought them to us. I was so excited to get a new quilt that I wrapped myself in it. I remember nothing else from that Christmas but the wrapping paper and the quilt.

Abruptly, I awoke snuggled up to the rainbow quilt.

PAPER CLIP

2006-12-11T21:39:00.000-07:00

I'm in the Army. I have until April. Then I'm almost out of the Army.

While we were in Afghanistan my intel guys decided to add an acronym to our brains that were already filled to the brim with acronyms.

People
Against
People
Ever
Re-inlisting

Civilian
Life
Incentive
Program

PAPER CLIP was months in the making. The moment I heard about this program I had to be a member.

I talked to Sergeant Butler, who was the first member of PAPER CLIP. He let me join.

"Repeat after me. People against people ever re-inlisting."

"People against people ever re-inlisting."

"Civilian life incentive program."

"Civilian life incentive program."

"Welcome to PAPER CLIP. You must now wear this somewhere on your uniform. It's best under the pocket then you won't get in trouble."

I placed the prize on the underside of my left top pocket. I also told as many would appreciate the new found awesomeness of PAPER CLIP.

All one needs to do is promise to never re-inlist and be told by someone that is a member of the program.

Sometime in April I am going to throw a PAPER CLIP party.

Actual Telephone Conversation

2006-11-28T22:55:00.000-07:00

My phone rings - "'Why do you waste my time?' is the answer to the question on my mind. I'm sick of all your judges..."

Allison: This is Allison.
Ryan: This is Ryan...your home teacher...from about nine months back.
Allison: (Long pause) Still got nothing.
Ryan: You went of vacation and I picked up your mail.

I haven't seen this guy in almost a year. What am I to expect?

Allison: Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. How've you been?
Ryan: Well, I called to ask you a question.
Allison: Okay.
Ryan: I was reading my journal and I was wondering...
Allison: Okay.
Ryan: Do you remember Danielle? What ever happened to her?
Allison: Well (long pause) she got married this passed summer.
Ryan: Oh. That defeats the purpose of me trying to get ahold of her then...so, how have you been?

HA!

The rest of the painful three minutes was a blur (oh the awkward that drips) until the moments before I pushed the red for end button on my phone.

Ryan: It was nice to talk to you.
Allison: Good luck to you.

Things I know I can't have

2006-11-25T13:25:00.000-07:00

Why is it I always want the things I know I can't have?

I've been hanging out a lot with a certain member of the opposite sex. He is great. He keeps me in stitches. He is very cute and I thought he might have been digging on the Allison. To my dismay, I received a text message this morning, "I've kinda stated seeing someone. I hope you aren't mad at me. That's why I've been so difficult."

"I'm the queen of chill, remember? It makes me happy when my friends are happy. Next time, tell me so I don't waste a Friday night on something that isn't going to happen."

Damn. Square freakin' one.

I know you probably hate reading about my laments and mis-luck with men. So starting now I will no longer blog about this. a) it's not attractive b) there are better things to write about like the fact that I dropped my phone this morning c) I still feel that men don't want to get to know me for Allison.

If I'm wrong on any of these points please let me know via a secure way ie. phone calls or email. If there are pople that want to get to know me for the no bull, wacky, music loving individual I am, please hook me up.

I'm also sending this into the blog void "unkempt hair, five o'clock shadow, height and blue eyes." Oh...and knowledge of modern music.

Reflect

2006-11-24T21:27:00.000-07:00

A reflection in the mirror is usually what you want to see.
Sometimes it can be something you are forced to see.
It is at times distorted like how a lake or car window can distort an image.
Can one see through themselves like they can see through a car window?
I look in a mirror and see not what I want to see but what I have to see.
I look in a car window and can see through the person I want to see.
I look in a lake and see deep into what I am forced to see.

It happened again.

2006-11-18T00:25:00.000-07:00

If you don't know the story about the guy that had a great summer click here.
If you do know the story about the guy that had a great summer read on.

It freakin' happend again.

With a blind date no less. He fell the freak in love with me...in four hours.

This is a phenomenon I would really love to study. I might as well. It has happend to me twice.

First my friend called me Thursday night to ask if I wanted to be set up for a Sigma Gamma Chi date night. Sure, why the hell not? What bad could happen? She describes him: 5'7", medium build, got back from Iraq. This perks my interest, a fellow soldier.

The night starts out well. He comes to pick me up. 10 minutes early. That bugged because I couldn't put mascara on...which, in my 20/20 hind sight, was a good thing. He takes a look around my apartment and says, "Wow, nice place. Do you have roommates?" This is a common question. "Nope," I always reply.

I ask him about Iraq. Turns out he couldn't hack. After only two months in country he went home due to anxiety problems. It was something he couldn't help but it could've been treated in country.

I try to exchange deployment stories with him but I can tell he isn't having. His face was very upset so I decided to change the subject. Music. He told me he plays the bass guitar. Cool.

We pull up to Cafe Rio for dinner all the while I'm doing a lot of talking. We get our food and take our seats. He starts fishing. "If you didn't know I was 29 how old do you think I am?" I'm thinking to myself, "You're trying too hard." Since I don't disappoint I say, "I'd guess 25ish." He grins and thanks me. As he was smiling he reached under the table and touched my thigh...no good. I quickly push his hand away.

We head out for roller skating.

This is an Instutute activity. Usually cash only. He busts out the wallet and opens it. Like a cartoon, a moth flies out from where the notes are usually held. I close my eyes and smile while shaking my head. "Is there an ATM anywhere?" I ask. The dude says there's one over in the corner. We start to head that way when his chapter advisor pops up behind us and says, "You need cash, son?" All the while the dudes at the table are tyring to tell him that he can pay later. His advisor drops a fiver and three singles on the table and tells us to have a good time.

WHO GOES ON A DATE WITHOUT PULLING $20 OUT OF THEIR BANK ACCOUNT?
THIS GUY.

We get our roller skates. I tell him that it has been at least 10 years since I've been roller skating. As I was getting back in the groove again he is skating like a pro. "I grew up down the street from here. I was here often." I'm thinking, "Well, while you were honing your skating skills I was out gaining a personality." The only thing I could think to reply was, "Awesome."

He tries to grab my waist a few times. I quickly bat his hands off of me.

He skates in front of me really fast at times lapping me and leaving me alone for a good portion of the evening. That really pissed me off.

All night he is dropping hints about us running around Liberty Park together or me helping him formulate a myspace page or, in short, another date. I smile and shrug it off.

It gets to be about 11:30. I look at him and say, "I'm getting kinda tired."

We go over to our stuff and change into our shoes.

We get to driving. We are enterchangeing between I-15 and I-215 when he asks if he could call me sometime. I laughed. Is that harsh? Laughing?

I think he got it. I thought, "Too soon, buddy. Too soon. Wait until the doorstep."

The rest of the drive was filled with awkwardness. Now I know what this awkwardness is that everyone keeps telling me about.

He pulls up to my building and parks the car. Once the car is off I practically fly out of the car. He's waiting in the car. I was confused. I look at him and say, "Aren't you going to walk me to my door?" His reply, "I wasn't sure if you wanted to hang out." I shook my head, "No."

We get to the doorstep. I unlocked my door and opened it. I thank him for a great time and push my hand out. We shake hands and I retreat into my apartment. I collapse onto my floor, whimpering.

Why can't I find someone to just take me to coffee? pardon hot chocolate? Why can't someone just take me for a walk and talk to me and get to know me?

Oh and another thing. The backpedaling. A Rage Against the Machine song came on and he said, "Yeah, Rage." My quick reply was, "I don't like Rage." To which he said, "Yeah, I really kinda don't like them either." For the love of the children.

Back to the point. I really hate the fact that this happens to me. Does this happen to other people? Why are people so willing to bend over backward for something that will never happen? Why do people need to freak out so bad about finding that special someone?

I guess the irony is I want companionship. I am not willing to quickly change my life for someone that I think might be "the one." What you freakin' see is what you freakin' get. Don't like the upfront, truthful Allison, step aside.

Country Music Scandal

2006-11-11T21:32:00.000-07:00

I think this is freakin' awesome.

We all know I am not...AM NOT...a country music fan.

Apparently Faith Hill was the shoe in for the award of Best Female Vocalist at the Country Music Awards. I saw this on the morning after the award show and I laughed. She even won a Radio from Hell award, the Boner of the Day for Wednesday the 8th of November.

I think this is an awesome piece of music history and will be forever in our minds as the day Faith Hill committed career suicide.

I think I've been quite vocal about my political choices.

2006-11-03T23:31:00.000-07:00

click here first

Although I am a registered Democrat, I, like the heterogeneous instruments player, vote issue by issue and candidate by candidate.

I realized my fate as a Democrat when I took Political Science 1020: Government Institutions. I was a young, impressionable mind reading my heart out about Fascism, Communism, Socialism, Federalism and Democracy. But most importantly the subinstutuions of American Democracy: political parties.

Republican: laissez-faire (stay out of other people's business), capitolism, cutting taxes, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.

Democrat: Federal programs, raising taxes in times of plenty and saving for times of need, idealism, welfare.

I was sold. I have been a Democrat since 2002. My father, a staunch Republican, almost disowned me when he found out, "How can you defend this country and vote for someone who cut every military program?" I didn't vote for him. I was too young.

I'm glad to say the Democrats are taking over Washington on the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November 2006...I'm voting for them.

TR, if you ever want to talk politics or learn more, hit me up. Being the lone Democrat in my family has made me an advocate for education. Political science is my life.

When I grow up I'm going to Bovine University...wait, Notre Dame Law.

As Foo Fighters is to Panama Red, Dashboard Confessional is to Dr. Feel Good

2006-10-24T20:14:00.000-06:00

How often do I make illegal drug references? Well, now that I think about it, quite often.

I remember like it was yesteryear.

When I was in 8th grade I had a friend that was an admitted pot smoker. I still liked him as a person. He was a great guy. I wish I had stayed in contact with him. I changed schools and he got a job at Guitar Center. In fact, I had a lot of friends that were into recreational drug use. Hum...which brings me to the thought in my wandering text: Why didn't I ever try it? I was offered. Why not? Thanks Word of Wisdom. If you think you might need a brush up, click here.

Now back to 8th grade. It was the penultimate day of school. During the week prior our history teacher said that we needed to participate in a kick ball game. Bracken, Zach and I asked if we could sit around and listen to music that day. She said that would be fine. We found that if we asked then the worst one could say was no. Neither Bracken nor Zach wanted to play and I wanted to hang out with them. Since backpacks weren't allowed to come to school during the last few days we asked if we could keep our portable CD players in her desk until the kick ball game and pick them up after school. She said that would be okay.

I brought my slim collection of CDs but I mostly listened to theirs. I listened to Sound Garden and Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Garbage. It was a good day of music. Then I listened to Foo Fighters...my marijauna. I was an addict. I couldn't get enough of the loud B side. I couldn't get enough of Dave passionately screaming February Stars and the bouncy Miss You. I knew music was going to become a part of my life.

I experimented with my music taste in the years to come.

My Sophomore year I was big into 107.5 The End and Star 102.7. On a whim one summer Saturday, my sister and I went to a Star remote to get a sticker placed on the rear glass of my Sunbird. When we got there they plowed into the back seat of my car and washed the spot where they were going to apply the sticker. The DJ asked, "What's your first preset?" I pressed it. Through my speakers came the music of X96 (my presets were and still are in numerical order). Since then, I've been a loyal fan. My music taste changed from the bouncy pop of Star to the hard guitar riffs of X96 and 105.7 The Blaze (think 1999). There was still no turning back.

During the divorcement of my parents I escaped into music. Stay Together for the Kids by Blink 182.

Driving home from work one day I heard the most passionate song. I was on I-80 taking the Foothill Drive exit. The song was Screaming Infidelities by Dashboard Confessional. Chris Carrabba was in town and was at Airwaves doing an acoustic set. I heard the people singing along and knew I must be a part of it. I immediately saved my pennies and purchased the album The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most. I recognized it as a break-up album. Up until the summer of 2006 I never experienced a break-up. But when I did I brushed the dust off said album and listened to it endlessly.

I again saved my pennies for Dashboard's new album Dusk and Summer. The week it dropped I was at GrayWhale. I got home that afternoon almost breaking the plastic case getting it open. I looked over the album cover art and opened the booklet. I followed along with the words listing to Chris as if he were singing to me. I listened to the album three times that afternoon. I needed Dashboard in my veins. Dashboard Confessional became my heroin.

"I know what I want for my birthday. Dashboard tickets," I told my mother. She, like Michelle, was there every step of the way with my horrible summer boyfriend. She knew I was about to road trip to Vegas with or without someone in the passenger seat to see them.

In anticipation I awaited the 23rd of October. Dashboard Confessional was in town. The music filled our ears. The Dashboard sing-along was beautiful. My summer was finally complete in late October.

The next day, I woke up singing So Long So Long.

"I'm not looking to date anybody."

2006-10-17T22:07:00.000-06:00

That sucked.

He was such a goof.

That's why he was awesome.

Too bad he decided to tell me that after we kissed.

A good kisser can change lots of things.

2006-10-12T21:40:00.000-06:00

Yep.

That's it.

Emo continued

2006-09-23T17:42:00.000-06:00

Can you be Emo and still have self-esteem?

I submit yes. Example: Me.

I'm afriad I'm leaning more toward the non-shoving, non-pot smoking, thick-rimmed glasses wearing, thrift store shirt buying crowd of Emo. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing. I really like the music.

In contridiction to the linked post, I don't think it's the popular thing to do. According to the article, My Chemial Romance and Panic! at the Disco are the more popular Emo bands. Dashboard Confessional, Circle Gets the Square and Rites of Spring are true Emocore.

What's a girl to do?

Virus Update

2006-09-10T13:32:00.000-06:00

Thank you, Jeremy, for what you tried to do with my computer.

Friday, I took my computer to the Best Buy Geek Squad (they are on call 24 hours a day because none of them can land dates). After running a system check up popped a screen with what exactly was wrong with my computer. The list follows:

Trojan-back-door
Spyware
Addware

On a scale from green good zone to red danger zone my computer was well in the red danger zone (there were no jets taking off from an aircraft carrier). In fact I'm surprised a box didn't pop up that read, "You're screwed. Buy a new computer." While in the process of telling me what my options were about my computer the very cute Geek Squad guy informed me that none of the work done to my computer will be charged hourly (thank goodness for that one). Jointly we sold antispyware and antivirus protection to a wonderful middle aged couple that really needed it.

An hour and a half, a $425 charge and a $600 in-house credit line later I walked out of the place.

Fast forward to today. Yes, I know it's Sunday, but I had this feeling I need to go see what was up with my computer. I asked if it was ready and the other very cute Geek Squad guy told me that he found another virus on it. Okay, that I can handle. His next sentence was thus, "There were also two hackers using your computer but we took them off."

Come again?

"Two?"

"Yep."

"Now does that put me at risk for identity theft?"

"It can."

It was one of those this happens to other people moments. Virus I understand. That is what happens to computers that have no antivirus protections (Allison crosses herself and apologizes to the computer gods). I never thought it would come down to hackers using my computer. Which rises a list of questions that I'm sure the Geek Squad guys won't be able to answer:

What did they do with my computer?
How is this accomplished?
How does someone learn they can do this?
How do they find the computers that are easiest to hack?
Once this is fixed how can I keep this from happening in the future?

It is still sinking in. Not just a hacker, two hackers.

Last summer when I was starting automatic bill pay and pay on-line accounts I thought it was going to be easier. Less stress on my life. Now I'm glad that everytime I went to do it I got this resounding "Allison, this isn't a good idea." Now I know what that was all about.

Why do I always have to learn lessons the hard and expensive way?

Road Trips Rule!

2006-09-04T18:45:00.000-06:00

Road trips are so very much fun.

I went to Santa Jorge (St. George) with my family over this fantastic Labor Day weekend. I keep thinking there should be some type of fireworks display. But alas there will not be one. We went to get out of the valley and we went to go see the Joseph Smith movie. I was a wreck. If you looked at me right after the movie you would think a very close family member passed away. In reflection, this is quite accurate. He's my brother. During part of the film there was an instrumental version of Praise to the Man. I couldn't help but think of the words "Earth must Atone for the blood of that man/Wake up the world for the conflict of justice/millions shall know 'Brother Joseph' again." How many strong is the membership of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints? Millions know Brother Joseph again.

My sister, her husband and I went to Zion's and Bryce Canyon because we really didn't have anywhere to be that night. I think what they wanted to do was plant National Park seed inside me. It worked. Next summer we are going to backpack Bryce Canyon. I'm going to hike King's Peak (note to self: Don't go alone). Jellystone is also on the list.

I brought my knitting needles with me. I'm going to have a cool new purple scarf this winter. Maybe even a hat, too.

We also figured that we can also break the Sabbath while on road trip status. We were going to stop in Nephi for dinner but we missed all the exits...construction. Then we stopped in Spanish Fark but the Winger's was closed. We made our way to Provo...yeah right. We found an eating establishment. I, like Michelle, think there are many things wrong with Provo. A backward town.

All in all, not a bad weekend I say. I love being with my family.

If budgets are for the weak then call me the Ukraine.

2006-08-28T19:04:00.000-06:00

I walked up to the teller booth and said, "I'm here to make my very late car payment."

"Okay. What's your account number?" he said as if people default all the time.

"I'm not sure," I said as I handed him my ID.

"Your payment's been made already."

I furrow my brow. "By whom?" He clicks at his computer box and informs me that in July there was a double payment made. One on the third (when the payment is due) and one a few weeks later.

I look at him and say, "That's the best news I've heard all day." I handed him a check for $230 so I could pay more of the remaining balance. $4,300.

"Now your payment isn't due until November."

I was over cautious. My father is the co-signer on my loan (I have no credit). I must have made my payment then freaked out a week later thinking it wasn't paid. The last thing I need is my dad taking my car away. That was the threat, you see. "Allison, this is building your credit as well as mine. If you default, I'm taking your car away. This is a privlidge not a right." Thanks Dad. I won't let him down. Nobody wants to face the wrath of Dad...besides I like the Impala. It is mine and nobody elses.

I've had to rewrite my budget form fortnightly to semi-monthly. The guys in accounting have somewhat helped me along (and when I say somewhat I mean didn't). Not that it took too much of my time. I just needed to change some dates on my extensive Excel spreadsheet. Just as I was hired they were changing the pay system from fortnightly to semi-monthly. I asked them about this. I plead my small case (mostly involving the word fortnightly because I think it's a sweet word). They plead their case, It's easier to do budgeting and payment. Okay, okay. The tall guys in accounting have talked me into it.

Change is good right?

In response to the little cartoon in Jeremy's comment on SWAK

2006-08-27T13:20:00.000-06:00

I went to the rush carnaval on Thursday and decided that I'm going to put myself out there. I'm joining a sorority...me...Miss Do I Look Transparent to You? is going the way of the hot girl. First, I cut my hair. Second, I bought some new clothes. Third, I'm going to rush.

I would really love to start dating. It's been a year and a half since I've been home from the Stan and I figure that's long enough. I might as well improve my odds. What better than joining a large group of women that meet once a week in a sisterhood. Wait...should I join a fraternity? That is a large group of men that meet once a week in brotherhood. I think my chances of meeting men are greater if I join a fraternity. This actually isn't the point of my post.

Actual point of my post:

I was at this carnaval and I ran into a few old friends. Friends from choir. Friends from three years ago. One "friend" (I use quotes because I guess the term is used quite loosly in this sence) that fell the freak in love with me. Let me tell you the story.

I believe it was fall semester. I was sitting at the choir table with...um, choir people. A young man walked up and sat with us. He's one of Ashely's friends. We start getting our chat on. Soon, I need to leave for work. We exchanged phone numbers. Not bad I say.

He called me that night and set up a date for the next day. He took me to lunch. We have great conversation. We set a date for the following night.

Let me preface this next part with this: The whole time in our conversations I'm saying, "I'm glad to be getting to know you better." "This is the getting-to-know you phase of our friendship." "I'm not looking for anything serious right now." Are these phrases clear? I really thought they were.

We go to an open house for a friend of mine who was leaving on the mish. I indroduce them and she asks me what our story is. I explain we had just met and we're friends right now. Then he pips up with, "We're not really sure what we are yet." To that I say, "We're friends getting to know eachother." To which he responded, "But we're still not sure." I let it go.

He took me to dinner all the while he's bending over backward to impress me with his knowledge of the scriptures and his ability to change every little thing about himself in order for me to fall in love with him. Not hot. It's one thing that you are a master scriptorian. Let me find out in Sunday School not in a conversation over pasta. Another thing, don't change any/everything about yourself thinking it's going to impress a chick you've known for 72 hours. I'm not one of those girls who marries a guy after three weeks of knowing him.

I'm ready to run away at this point. Run the freak away. He scared me to death. Fortunately, for me, our server was cute.

He drives me home and walks me to my door. At the doorstep I must break the bad news that I think we'd be better of as friends. I do so. He tells me that's it's cool and walks away.

Not 30 seconds later I get a text message: Next time, do the dumping befor dinner.

My eyes widen and my heart starts to race. Are you kidding me?

With out thinking my reply was: I didn't think there was anything to dump. We weren't dating.

I saw him at the Institute once or twice after that. I would say hi to him and he would ignore me. I laughed outloud when that happened. I'm 23 years old. We're not in high school. We are both adults.

Which brings me to the carnaval. I saw this fellow and without even batting an eyelash I attempt to catch up with him. He quickly flashes me his wedding ring and says it was a great summer. "I guess it has been," I replied. (Big Gulp's eh, well) see you later. Good luck to you and your teen bride who married you for your money...law trust fund, thank you Daddy.

So. Getting smothered does happen. Case and point. He scared me. Now I know the mindset of some of these men and women.

I would never rip someones skin off and salt him. I would never cut someone in half with a chain saw. I might, hopefully on as few occasions as possible, rip someone's beating heart out of their chest.

Maybe I should leave that to Dr. Jones.

SWAK

2006-08-15T19:29:00.000-06:00

I'm going to throw this out there. If you don't want it, throw it back. Salt Lake men are afraid of women. I (as in me, Allison) was hit on twice in the fair city of Denver. It makes me feel good. Natually, Ashely and Michelle were hit on more but the sheer fact that men wanted to hang out with me was amazing.

I'm going to throw this out there as well (please, do me a favor, don't gush over me as if this is news) I can count on one hand how many men have asked me on a date since I was 18. One a year, I guess that's not bad. I don't want to say I don't understand you guys (I have spent a lot of time learning the male brain) but what is your deal? I'm a single, generally attractive, disese free woman. Why don't men ask me out?

One of the men that hit on me is moving to Utah for grad school. I sure do hope he calls me.

To top off this great trip: I kissed Logan (Ashley's brother) on the forehead.

Kudos to you, Denver men, to give Ashley, Michelle and me something to hope for.

While you were out doing whatever it is you like to do...

2006-08-08T09:58:00.000-06:00

...Allison was having the best week ever!

After the lousy month of July, Allison was looking for someething to perk her spirits. She applied for as many jobs as she could on Monster. She found that many places are looking for employees. The first employer she emailed got back to her a week later. She interviewed on Friday, August 4th, noticing that it was casual Friday. They called her for references (a good sign). After three glowing reviews of what I'm not sure she really posesses, they called her back for a second interview with the team on Monday, August 7th. As she was walking through the office on Monday she noiced jeans, t-shirts and flipper-floppers were not just a Friday thing; it was an everyday thing. The team "grilled" her (and whe I say "grilled" I mean talked to her) for 20 minutes (very informal interview). They said they would get back to her in a couple days. 45 minutes later...the job was hers. She starts Wednesday, August 9th, Pam 6.0ing for Global Medical Staffing.

Death Cab for Cutie is appearing in concert at the McKay Event Center on Tuesday, August 8th. This only adds to Allison's best week ever. She gets to go be with friends and have great conversation. Revitalized, energized is Allison's new attitude.

On a side note, she found out that Panic! at the Disco and the Plain White T's are on their way to Salt Lake City in November only verifying Allison's best week ever.

Thanks for reading Allison's best week ever.

Pam (Allison) 6.0

2006-08-04T01:53:00.000-06:00

In approximately eight and a half hours I will be interviewing for a job as Pam.

I don't get nervous when I have to sell my knowledge, skills and abilities. It does make me think that I'm saying more that what I really am. Does that ever bug you? My resume is the biggest line. Did I really do all those things? Is this knowledge really up in my brain? I submit to you that Jack of all trades is the master of none. Let's have a looksee at my resume.

Swimming Coach
Legislative Intern
Telephone Survey Specialist
Wal*Mart Service Deli
Wal*Mart Cahsier
Army
Meat Cutter
Set Merchandiser

and quite possibly

Secretary

I've never held a job longer than a year. Army doesn't count. That's a duty not a job~tangent~and being deployed doesn't count either. Again, it's my duty but I was on the other side of the world. I couldn't just quit. Also if I did quit I would be a civilian in a warzone having to find my own way home. No military assistance. We flew to Afghanistan on the taxpayers dime. I wouldn't want to fly out of the Kabul airport...do they have an airport?

I need this job badly. It's a nine to five, 401k, medical, dental, vision. After the interview it's up to the company and their ability to say, "There's something different about her. She has no experience but let's hire her anyway."

A recurring thought

2006-08-02T12:35:00.000-06:00

It seems to me that maybe
It pretty much always means no
So don't tell me you might just let it go
And often times we're lazy
It seems to stand in my way
Cause no one no not no one
Likes to be let down
It seems to me that maybe
It pretty much always means no
So don't tell me you might just let it go
~Jack Johnson, Flake

I want to swim away but don't know how
Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean
Let the waves up take me down
Let the hurricane set in motion
Let the rain of what I feel right now come down
Let the rain come down
~Blue October, Into the Ocean

Why am I thinking of such things?
I guess it's time for Allison to do some sorting.

Commentary on rain and future events.

2006-08-01T15:38:00.000-06:00

I love summer thunder storms.

What does August have in store? Work, trip to Colorado, catching up on sleep, Death Cab for Cutie, quite possibly a social life.

Naptime.

July, the month of pain.

2006-07-28T22:45:00.000-06:00

There were only three happy times in this sultry month of July: LoveRunner show, hanging out with Michelle and Craig, the final day of the hideous light bulb set for work. Why is this set hideous? you ask. I will spare you no detail of the last three weeks...well maybe one or two. It's only a half hour cable special.

Monday, July 10
I wake up at 6:00 PM to get ready for work. I promptly show up for work at 8:00 PM where I am greeted with grins, "This is Allison. She will be leading this set." Eyes bug forth from my head, jaw drops. I see a couple problems with this: 1. I've never seen this set before. 2. I'VE NEVER SEEN THIS SET BEFORE. Thanks Josh for calling me. "That's news to me," I say in my outside voice. Product starts flying off shelves. Temporary workers are everywhere. Store must be shopable by 6:00 AM. Not a chance. Imagine, chaos...yes, yes that's the word...chaos. At 11:00 AM I snap. I start shaking. I can't think. Thankfully Josh and Jesse show up and send me home. I sleep.

Tuesday, July 11
Someone must have called the calendar people because it didn't exist.

Wednesday, July 12 (my brother's birthday)
The big bosses fly in from California and Washington to explain why this set isn't that hard...um okay. I high tail it to my store for the evening where I'm promised 15 temporary workers. How many show up? Six. I'd been up since 2:00 that afternoon. I was also supposed to learn how to lead this set from one of the higher ups. Ha. He was on his phone all night. When his battery died he used my phone. That morning (the 13th) I had a mandatory physical for the Army. "Is there any way you could reschedule it?" Um no. The order of importance: 1. Religion. 2. Family. 3. Army. Everything else takes a back seat. I leave the store, go to my physical, then come back to the store. Work for another two hours. We were kicked out of the store by our bosses because we needed to be fresh for the set that night.

Thursday, July 13
I was in the store for 23 and a half hours. I'm having a panic attack thinking about this.

Ah. Sleep. Weekend too short. Not even restful sleep. I had dreams about pallets of product needing to be sorted. It's bad when you dream about work. You don't rest. The next week was fun-filled.

All the while our District Manager Josh (the same guy that neglected to tell me I was leading this set) has had no sleep. The week of the 10th the guys that were sent to Idaho were in the stores for 24-30 hours. Josh took it upon himself to go to Idaho and help them.

Skipping to Wednesday, July 19
We enter the handbasket. Josh was running a fever so he stayed home. Until the phone calls hit. He steps down as District Manager and Jarrod is let go of his lead position. AJ pulls me aside, "Allison, we're sending you guys to Pocatello. This set needs to be done." No pressure. "It'll get done." They totally stepped over John, the other lead.

We drive to Pocatello. We haven't had any sleep.

Um...I'm done talking about this. Yep. Done.

The lightbulb set is in the past.

I've applied for three jobs. I'm going to be the new Pam. Pam 6.0 where I'm going to embrace my secretarial skills. If it be in the graces of the powers that be I will have a nine to fiver with a 401k and a vision plan.

First, I'd like to thank my mom for talking me out of my pride. Second, Michelle for listening to me. Third, LoveRunner for saving my sanity (you guys rock my world). Forth, Pete Ashdown. Aim for the stars and you will be the best Democrat Senator this state has to offer. Fifth, the University of Utah for reminding me that I need an education.

Onward and upward. I will climb every mountain until the trials promised me in Patriarchal Blessing come to a screeching hault...wait they probably won't end...crap.

Preston, Idaho

2006-07-02T12:08:00.000-06:00

I loved this. Second best trip I've ever taken. The hotel staff saw that it was necessary for me to sleep in the same room that Jon Heder (Napoleon) stayed in for his stay in Preston. I slept in Napoleon's bed. If you are a fan this day trip is a must.
What's that in my driveway?
We'll have to mix and match.
Wanna play me?
Vote for Pedro.
Strawberry shake.
Those boots are awesome.
Dang.
Uncle Rico.
Fry sauce.
Rex quon do.
Plungers.
Pinata.
Preston High School.
Pedro's house.
Summer's house.
LaFawnda and Kip's park bench.
Onion rings.
Napoleon's house.
Napoleon's sutie.
Me in Napoleon's room.
Me and Trisha's house.
Me and the field.
Me and Pedro's house.
Me and Napoleon.
Me and Napoleon's house.
The map.
A stickfigure. It's pretty much my favorite doodle. Drawn for it's skills in magic.
It's a Sledgehammer.
Napkin.
I bought them. It's a 10 pack.
Hey Lyle.
Go for it.
Forgot my checkbook.
Flippin' sweet.
Deseret Industries.
Deseret Industries.
I already get my hair cut at the Cuttin Curral.
I've been taming this honeymoon stallion.
Big J Burgers.
I had nobody to play footsey with.
Trisha's house.

I hope your summer experiences are unforgettable.

Lucky.

Things happen when you're not even paying attention.

2006-06-27T14:43:00.000-06:00

I was at a popular restaurant today. I ordered a 12-inch vegetarian on wheat with swiss cheese. I like this sandwich because it's a salad in sandwich form. Bread, lettuce, tomato, spinich leaves, olives, pickles, cucumbers, salt and pepper, oil and vinegar. Too perfect. But this isn't the point I'm trying to make.

I flirted with the Subway Sandwich Artist. He flirted back probably because of my salad sandwich order. He looked kinda...from Colorado...if you know what I mean (no offense Ashley). I closed our encounter with the line, "I'll see you next time."

The question I pose is this: How soon is next time?

I was thinking the day after tomorrow.

Or I could take the Swingers mentality. The part where he gets the phone number and he asks all his friends how long he should wait to call her.

"Industry standard used to be three days. Then after a while it seemed like everyone was waiting three days. But that's not three days including today. Tomorrow starts the three days."

"So you mean four days?"

"If that's how you want to look at it."

"So how long are you going to wait to call your babies?"

"Seven days."

Song lines that best describe my inner thoughts...

2006-06-24T16:16:00.000-06:00

...because I'm not a poet.

"Now that I've seen you, I don't think you're worth a second glance. So much for all the promises you made, they served you well and now you're gone and they're wasted on me. So much for your endearing sense of charm, it served you well and now you're gone and it's wasted on me." ~Dashboard Confessional

"Don't wait, don't wait. The road is now a sudden sea and suddenly, you're deep enough to lay your armor down." ~Dashboard Confessional

"I'm cuddling close to blankets and sheets but you're not alone. You're not discreet. You make sure I know who's taking you home. Well as for now I'm gonna hear the saddest songs and sit alone and wonder how you're making out. But as for me, I wish that I were anywhere with anyone making out. Your hair, it's everywhere. Screaming infidelities. Taking it somewhere." ~Dashboard Confessional

"Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself, and covered with a perfect shell, such a charming beautiful exterior. You can't fake it hard enough to please everyone or anyone at all or anyone at all." ~Dashboard Confessional

"This medicine is just what you deserve. Swallow, choke and die." ~Dashboard Confessional

"And with a sad heart I say 'Bye' to you and wave, kicking shadows on the streets for every mistake that I've made. Like a baby boy I never was a man until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hands. And I fell down yelling 'Make it go away! Just make her smile come back and shine like it used to be!' Then she whispered 'How could you do this to me?'" ~Blue October

"You just kinda wasted my precious time." ~Bob Dylan

The beginnings of a story.

2006-06-01T12:28:00.000-06:00

"Here's the deal," said the naive brunette. "I want you to give me that car and I'll give you $3,000 for everything."

"That is a 17 year old Mazda. I couldn't give th...deal," he said against his better judgment.

She slapped the cash into his hands. With confidence in her new find Stephanie Reynolds rolled out of the dealership thinking she was the wiser of the two. Stephanie was in her mid-20's. Her frame was petite no taller than five feet. Delicate cheekbones. Beautiful crystal blue eyes. A slight wave to her hair. It was the middle of summer. Her dress was very casual. Cut off shorts and a nature colored short sleeved shirt. Her pedicured feet were placed ever so gently into a pair of flip-flops.

"She paid cash," Mark said to his sales partner.

Mark worked (in his own words) an extremely crappy job. But sales was his strong point. He went to school for it. He entered business school with the goal of becoming chief salesperson of Cannicorp Pharmaceuticals. Why was he working at the used car dealership? That was a question Mark asked himself every day.

Today he was not standing tall in his six foot frame. Broad shoulders were slumped. His chestnut eyes half-closed. His semi-long blonde hair looked unkempt compared to his metro wardrobe. Black tailored slacks, shiny black leather shoes, sunfire yellow button down shirt and lavender tie.

Mark walked into his office to finish paperwork for the car. Counting the bills he murmured, "She paid cash. She didn't even try to make a deal. Did she even research?" Sign and print here it stated on the final page of paperwork. He scribbled his doctor style signature onto the final paper then printed Mark Singer where indicated.

He looked at his watch; a style they give away on The Price is Right. 4:45 on a Friday night. He slid the paperwork into his outbox, tucked his rolling chair under his desk and walked out of his office. Tightly locking his door.

"I'll see you Monday," he shouted to his sales partner, Steven.

"Hot date?" Steven said.

"If you call a rented movie, a bowl of microwave popcorn and an empty apartment a hot date. Say 'Hi' to Rebecca for me." With a twinge of jealousy he walked out of the dealership.

Emo

2006-05-19T12:35:00.000-06:00

I hate to admit it but I think I'm Emo. It's too bad it's the cool thing to do.

I almost have the look down. The only thing that's keeping me from the look is my unwillingness to do anything drastic to my hair.

Truth

2006-05-17T17:33:00.000-06:00

I have no grand story to tell.

I want you to know: communication is key to a successful relationship. Sitting down to a meal after a long night at work will help patch wounds and maybe even cracked ribs.

This isn't my bit but I'm going to use it. I wish I had theme music. When something bad is about to happen to me I want the music to get scary. When I'm happy I want the music swell in beautiful scales. Then there wouldn't be a question about what kidn of mood I was in. Then I could avoid questions.

How do you like them apples?

This was no accident, this was a therepudic chain of events.

2006-05-11T17:58:00.000-06:00

I have deal breakers. Standards. I will NOT yield.

He told me to ask him any question I wanted. I could take my time and ask him anything. My question last night was exactly this: Are you willing to abide by Church chastity standards so you can fully repent?

It kept him awake all night. He was dreading our lunch today.

After 19 hours of deliberation he told me at the present time he couldn't abide by Church chastity standards.

He told me the Book of Mormon was written by people who didn't know him and what he was going through.

I walked away. Problem is I ripped my own heart out.

As quickly as something good is given to you it can be taken away. I will always love him.

Ether 12:27

It was an accident, I swear, it was an accident.

2006-05-04T14:33:00.000-06:00

Preface: I knew it was going to be an Army guy. How did I know? About two weeks after I got to Afghanistan I replied to a friend's email. He was letting me know he was going to South America on the mission. I typed to Elder Lindsay, "My situation is different. You are going to preach the good word. I'm in the Army. When I come home it's going to be to a broken lease, an impounded car and friends that just don't understand."

He was in the Army for six years. He's highly trained by the government. He's been all around the world for the Army. Two years of civilian life is killing him.

Then he met me.

I've known him for six/eight weeks. We hit it off right from the start. Speaking Army to eachother. It's like speaking a foreign language. Nobody really understands it. When I find anybody that understands why I have a mild case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder from making coffee for a year I'm going to hold on to them. We've told war stories and joked about Army standards. I was ending roughtly 90% of my stories with, "You and like two other people in the world know that about me." He could honestly say the same.

We've spent a lot of time discussing the Atonement and the always eternal love of Heavenly Father. As a recent convert I can fully bear testimony of the truthfulness of this. I've explained to him light, knowledge and intelligence cannot be taken away. We were born with all that we are going to die with. It's one of those eternal things.

In passing he has told me he loves me. I punch his shoulder and he says, "I'm so in love with you." I stand on a bucket at work to tighten some bolts and he says, "I'm so in love with you." I think he got sick of it. My male-oriented female mind can't take hints. Tuesday night he grabbed my face and said, "I love you."

I honestly didn't know what to do.

Me? He loves me? Why?

With trepidation I internalized it. It took me two days to sort it out. I know him better than I thought I did. He knows more about me than I know about myself. After getting opinions from many trusted people I took the advice of one,"Allison, you're on the right path. Heavenly Father is blessing you because of the great and wonderful choices you've made. I don't see why you shouldn't pursue this as a relationship."

I'm on the verge of something I'm hoping to be wonderful.

I said "I love you." It was barely a whisper the first time. I even cried.

I went into the freezing cold darkness that is this uncharted tundra of somewhere I've never been. Love.

Dating X...The Revenge

2006-04-28T22:30:00.000-06:00

Heart.

Sleeve.

Naw, I just get rejected.

Never again will I put myself on the line for someone who is out to play the game. Mr. IHaveAttentionFromEveryGirlHere. I'm just another.

In light of new evidence I've determined to move passed Lamepants McForbiddenDoughnuts or as I like to call him Sir Doesn'tCallBackAtAll. Good recon Michelle.

In a conversation with a trusted person last week I realized there are many more fishees out there. Thanks kind sir, you are a gentleman and a scholar.

Not too vengeful. Sorry Blake.

Dating IX

2006-04-17T13:23:00.000-06:00

Heart.

Sleeve.

I put it there. The reaction is usually, "Well I have to wash my hair." He then walks away, I am left standing there...alone...then I never see him again. I'm a lucky dame.

Saturday night, it worked.

"Hey, can I tell you something. I'm just throwing it out there. Toss it back if you don't want it. I dig you. I think you're awesome. I want to date you."

"Date is premature," he said. "I love hanging out with someone and getting to know them. So I can judge who they are and how they will react in different situations."

Well we talked for a while...a long while.

I guess I'm scared. Scared that if it doesn't work out that my heart will be ripped out and drop kicked into a wastebasket. Scared that I might get to know him so well that I might start dating him seriously. Scared that I'm taking that step into the darkness of something I don't know.

I got some great advice from a friend today, "Allison, you can't see the end from the beginning. That's why you are scared." So wise.

We'll see where it will go.

Lesson

2006-04-14T08:46:00.000-06:00

He's hot.

He knows it and so does his girlfriend.

He has a nice car but like a stint of binge drinking the problem is still there after the fun.

Yoink.

2006-04-10T18:36:00.000-06:00

Nicknames.

Al-Dad gave me this one. He's always called me Al.
Big Al-I was called this until I told my dad to stop.
Alli-High school. There was a cheerleader named Allie so I had to leave the "e" off. I was a swimmer I couldn't have the same nickname as a cheerleader.
AB-Short for AlliButtons. From StrongBad email. My sister is TB for TrishieButtons.
Little One-I'm the littlest.
Little Blonde One-I'm the blonde one. I'm convinced my hair is red yet my family still calles me the blonde one.
The Short One-I'm the shortest in my family.
Sabot-The Army gave me this one by default. "Like the round, Drill Sergeant." You pronunce it like my last name. I have no Army nicknames because my last name is too cool.
The Good Daughter-This one is interchangeable with my sister. Whenever we would do something dad liked he called us the good daugher. There could only be one good daughter at a time.

Taxes, getting back what's rightfully mine.

2006-03-31T17:29:00.000-07:00

My taxes are usually filed by the first week of February. Why did I wait so long this year? Read on to find out.

I worked for an independent grocery store, The Store.

My interview for Meier's Prime Meat Department consisted of, "Allison, you need a job? I'll hire you for $9.00 an hour. Start Monday. Bring this application and a resume with you." So formal.

I worked for this establishment from 12 JUN 2005 to 20 JAN 2006. Marsh, my big boss, told me my W-2 was in the mail. The middle of February rolled around, no W-2. Curious.

I get my dad on the horn. "Did you pick up my W-2?" I asked

"No. Marsh said he sent them out already," he replied.

"K."

I waited, like a fool, I waited.

Second week of March.

"Marsh, I never got my W-2. Do you have copies of it?"

"I'll get right on it."

Third week of March.

"Marsh, I need my W-2."

"I'm sorry, Allison, I'll ask Dixie where it is."

The last week of March.

"MARSH, I NEED MY W-2!"

"I found it. Come on down and grab it."

All the while I'm leaving voice mails with my phone number asking him to call me back. He never called me back. I was talking to a few guys a work about this.

"You can sue him."

"I know. That would take all the money I would get from my return."

This is the first time I'm doing my taxes without the help of a professional. I'm afraid. As I'm running into the Post Office I know my envelope will end up in the audit bin like Homer's did.

I'm doing my taxis...texas...taxes tonight. I should get my return my the middle of July.

Dating VIII...the blind date

2006-03-25T15:39:00.000-07:00

The phone call came.

"Allison, my brother invited me to go watch Shark in 3D and go to dinner. Wanna come? There are dates involved."

"I'm in."

"Be down to my house by 7:00."

I looked at my clock. 6:22.

6:23 Enter shower.
6:27 Exit shower.
6:45 Exit apartment.
7:12 Arrive in Sandy. Not bad I say.

What are my qualities when one is setting me up?

"My friend, Allison, is devilishly clever and obscure. Openbookish and honest."

Let us just say, I haven't been on a blind date for a while. Now I know why. Is it just me or do they seem to be the worst dates anyone can ever go on? You know nothing about eachother. You're in every sense of the phrase a fourth wheel.

Handy.

Dating VII

2006-03-16T16:16:00.000-07:00

I called Chris* to see if he wanted to go hear some live music. A thread we share. We go see LoveRunner, a Salt Lake City local band. I know the heterogeneous instruments player. We show up and take a seat on some sofa-like chairs and chat a bit. One band starts playing. I want to go stand in the ballroom to become part of the music. Chris doesn't. I stay seated in hindsight regretting my decision. No sooner than the band starts playing, Chris pulls out his phone and text messages someone.

Whoa. What is this all about? Mr. Allison I Want to Hang Out With You More, is overtaken by the expensive clock in his pocket?!?

He excuses himself from the sitting area and I am left...alone...to listen to the unnamed band (I never heard their name). Expression on my face: unnerved. He comes back while I'm in the middle of texting Michelle...an eye for an eye. What does he do? Sprays binaca in his mouth. It's almost cliche. I laugh, hyserically.

LoveRunner comes on. I make my way to the dance floor. I warn Chris that I get really into live music. Dancing, yelling, throwing things on the stage...I've never done that but one of these days. In the middle of their set Chris excuses himself...again...to go find earplugs. I understand his concern but we were listening to at least 20 minutes of very loud music before LoveRunner took the stage, no excuses. Left alone...again. He comes back just as the set is ending.

I say hi to the heterogeneous instruments player and introduce him to Chris. By then Chris has gone from "potential" to "no chance." We promptly leave.

All Chris was good for was the ride to and from the Union Ballroom.

Why must it be so insanely difficult for two members of the opposite sex to find eachother? Why must manners be thrown out? What kind of society are we living in where it is kosher to be out for the evening and be talking to someone other than the date?

I don't I need to count bots and snus on this one.

*Chris is his real name.

Cool guys from a cool band.

2006-03-10T16:25:00.000-07:00

Steve Morris and Scott Russo of Unwritten Law.
Just thought I'd throw that out to you.

TerrifiClover

2006-03-09T17:32:00.000-07:00