Such a Dilemma

Torrey pointed out to me today that it has been more than a month since I last posted.

Which is lame.

But in my defense, I unfailingly find myself in the same predicament every time. Everyone knows that I don't often take the time to complete one task before I start another - I'm a multi-tasker like that. So I have all of these drafts of posts that I started with tentative titles like "But Why a Ukelele?" and "Buddha Must Hate Me" that I NEVER FINISH. By the time I re-visit, I've forgotten where I was going with the story, why it was interesting, what I was talking about, etc. I've decided that maybe I will start mixing and matching these unfinished stories because that will make about as much sense as if I had finished in the first. So let it be written. So let it be done.

A Good Story: That Damn Duck

Once when I was a child my mom and aunt (to the best of my recollection, I was a small child after all) took me on a 'fieldtrip' to Wheeler Farm. When you've spent your growing years in a super-suburban city where it is a rarity to see cattle, sheep, horses and the like it is exciting and somehow enticing to spend time not only near but in a chicken coop. Also to touch a cow on the nose through a fence and practically declare yourself a cowgirl at the experience.

But I digress.

The fact of the matter is that I was spending some quality "down-home country" time and was wandering and in particular, following a goose that stood as tall as my shoulder at the time. Unlike Sara I don't have a particular fear or dislike for birds and actually find them interesting, a truth that would later surface in preschool when I would be scolded for chasing/harassing a duck. Just because I could. Somehow as I was wondering a field or meadow or something I came in contact with a very large goose (maybe it was tiny, I was only a child!) that instead of getting out of my way decided that it would be a jerk and bite me instead. Only it wasn't a normal animal-type bite where the thing takes a quick nip and then back away, it was bite to my earlobe that just never ended; the dumb thing took grasp and wouldn't let go. Imagine me as a 2.5 foot tall kid, hunched over like Estelle from the Golden Girls, and weighed down by a possessed goose hanging on for dear life to my head. And let that be the image that comes to your mind as you stand to give a talk in sacrament meeting, because that's what happens to me every time.

Wherein I Prove Myself a Moron

As I spent last evening alone at my parents house I pursued the one course that would leave me nervous and jumpy for the entire night: I began watching a television show modeled after a horror film. Now, don't get me wrong - the plot was weak, the acting below grade, and it was less than an hour long.

But.

The storyline that included the living dead and pouding violently on locked doors was concerning as I began to hear little creaks and baby-pounds throughout the house. The basement is currently destroyed for remodeling which means that there was no sound insulation between the safe upper floor and the basement level of death, naturally. The only logical conclusion I came to during my hours of being too freaked out to sleep is that a zombie (of the living dead variety) had come into the house because I had probably left every single door unlocked (open? who knows!) and I would soon hear my dog running down the street in fear while I was left to fend for myself using only a pillow sham and an alarm clock of questionable quality.

And this is why I look the way I do every morning.

Rules of Engagement

Today I received my unofficial invitation (no pun intended) to get out of Provo - a wedding invitation from a stranger.

Unlike some post-BYU and still single girls, I really like getting announcements for upcoming weddings. It's interesting to see who looks more grown up, who looks younger than when you last saw them. Learning the names of your friends parents who you have never met, noticing whether the chosen font is unique or some unfortunate form of papyrus or lucida handwriting, whether the future newlyweds were instructed on appropriate hand placement in their photo(s) or if they are soon to be submitted here. Overall - I enjoy checking out annoucements and invitations.

After scanning the names of the bride or groom's parents on the return address label this afternoon with no recognition, I opened the envelope and wasn't able to recognize either names OR faces of the betrothed. What? The name of the girl is really different, there's no way that I would simply forget or get her confused with any run-of-the-mill named girls I have met here in the last 3 years. The guy is unfamiliar - I am certain that we've never met, and boys send out fewer announcements to their platonic friends in the first place .

So there it sits on the bookcase, the possible addition to the already crowded refrigerator, primed for a congratulatory card and gift (but not attendance to the reception, obviously.)
I've officially been bested on this one - Provo has won, I daresay. I've met enough people, been in enough wards, and attended enough parties. I'm tired. And worse, I'm curious.

Maybe Next Year

Big Brown,

I thought that this was your year - I had such high hopes! And your jockey was wearing stars, aren't those supposed to be good luck? This was it you know; you were supposed to be the triple crown winner, the first in thirty years... I guess as a consolation you can just remember that your net worth now is greater than what I'll ever make. Hats off to you, pal.

A Few of my Favorite Things

The best things heard/said in my office today:

1. Jordan talking to pizza place: "Really? Hey Matt, they say they don't have any beer"

2. IM conversation between Sarah and I:

Lani: ps - there is nothing good on people.com
Sarah: Amen
Today was so disappointing
Lani: how dare celebrities not have outrageous things happen every day
Sarah: I know!
They are supposed to be ENTERTAINERS
Does that mean anything to them?
Lani: probably not, inconsiderate jerks
Sarah: For real
Rich bastards

3. Jordan, stranded on freeway: "Uh... I ran out of gas"

It's only 2:30 and it's been a great day.

Summer Happenings: San Francisco

I am back. And it's already time to leave again. Well, not really - I have GOT to stay put for long enough to take care of some items of business that have been neglected but I am no-joke already hurting for another weekend away. What does this say about my life, you may ask? Just don't ask - I have no idea.

After arriving in San Jose on Friday night, Sara and I packed ourselves a couple of backpacks and caught the CalTrain to San Francisco in the morning. We both definitely fell asleep face-down on the formica table afforded our section of the train - the jury is still out as to whether I contracted any communicable diseases from that encounter. I was totally unprepared as to how cold the weekend was actually going to be - I took short sleeved shirts, flip flops, and just a basic fleece to keep me warm and it was a good thing that we were continually on the move because it was CHILLY! Luckily, we literally were always on the move; on the full days of Saturday and Sunday that we were in the city I'm guessing that we walked 14-16 hours each. Loved it. At some point we were both wincing and hobbling a little bit, but Sara is tougher than me and I try to keep up, you know? We made sure to make plenty of treat stops to maintain our energy and also made time for a brief nap just off of a pathway in the park. One day after situating a backpack to use as a pillow, we fell asleep for a few minutes and upon waking, were pleased to notice that a little man had taken a seat on the bench some 15 ft. from us and was watching like a hawk. I can't decide if he was thinking about trying to steal our stuff or about offering us some money to go and sit tight in a shelter for a while.



There was no need though, as a new experience for me was staying in the Mason St. Intl. Hostel:



Sara made all of the arrangements and the price and location were perfect - I think I may become a frequenter of hostels. They are competitively priced, there are bunkbeds, and you may get a cool roommate like Bridget, our new friend from Ireland who has been hanging out in Canada for the last year just for the hell of it. What a life, right? Poor Sara may not have gotten the best end of this deal as she doesn't sleep much and there is literally nothing to do in the rooms other than sleep. Total trooper.



On Sunday we decided to take off on a walk and see if we couldn't find the Exploratorium (we couldn't), see the park (we did), and get lost for 6 or so hours (we did). After biking through Golden Gate park and along the beach for a few hours, we ended up on Haight-Ashbury and were able to see all-things-Grateful-Dead. The street was pretty cool and we found some cute boutiques and funky little shops to look at while we walked. A while later, we were looping back towards Mason and found a little outdoor market-fair thing that we hung out at for a while. For those of you that don't know, I could spend all day looking through Etsy and the blocked off streets were the physical manifestation of all that etsy could offer - everything was handmade, fairly original, and generally awesome. I could have spent a LONG TIME just going back to look and talk with the vendors but we caught it at the end and saw everything pretty quick. I found this little gem of a shop and bought a tiny little necklace that I fairly adore. This is one of my favorite things about bigger and more temperate cities- the outdoor markets! We went throught the farmer's market on the Embarcadero and then found the goods market without even looking- they somehow just appear with the most lovely of items. I swear I would move somewhere if there was the promise of fresh flowers being wrapped in newspaper for my consumer purposes... My purchasing power was definitely exercised between the boutiques, markets, and last but not least: the famous City Lights Bookstore. We literally wandered by the front door one night and I am so glad that Sara suggested going in; I didn't know it at the time but City Lights was one of the most popular locations for beat readers like Ginsberg, Kerouac, and Ferlinghetti. Since of my best/favorite papers written at BYU was on Ginsberg's "A Supermarket in California" I honored the location by reading parts of "Howl" and purchasing "On the Road." I don't know the last time I felt so patriotic to my cause.



We caught the early train back to San Jose first thing on Monday morning and after a quick change of clothes headed down towards Santa Cruz to hang on the beach. After a quick tour of the actual 'town' of Santa Cruz (again, full of boutiques and outdoor sales) we headed to a prety vacant beach where Sara wore layers and I wore layers plus a coat. We didn't last too long because it was cold but upon getting back to the car it wouldn't start. So, we warmed up by taking a couple-hours walk along the railroad tracks and once we got back it started! Hooray! We made it back to Sara's house and her generous dad and step-mom made a great/much needed barbeque. It just doesn't seem like Memorial Day if there isn't some grilling involved, you know?

I left the next day after some MAJOR sleeping (like, more than I've slept since Christmas) and some errand running (via bicycle, naturally). The flight home was uneventful, unlike the first which I only made by running through the airport in really unfortunate shoes. So here I am, just catching up on the mundane and real life related. My only goal for next time is to have my camera in operating condition and learn how to be more brief in my re-telling. We'll see...