If you keep making that face, someday it will stick

Not too long ago I constantly had people asking me what was wrong. I'd say, "Nothing- this is just my face!" and carry on. I guess I have a grumpy cat face (or BRF, depending on how you look at it).

But maybe it turns out I was actually kind of sad. I mean- I did have a lot of crap happening around that time. Sept-March weren't my favorite-est months ever. Because the last few weeks- the last few days especially, I've had such a ridiculous smile on my face that I'm actually starting to creep my coworkers out. 

Seriously. I'll just be staring off into space and smiling. One coworker is convinced that I've cut the brakes on her car or something and that my smile is sinister. Others have asked if I've started a new medication or started using... uhh... recreational herbs. Nope. This is just me. High? Yes. Unnatural? Maybe. Fake? Absolutely not.

Today at work I was busy with something and realized I wasn't smiling and it felt weird. And that made me smile. That not smiling felt wrong. I needed to smile.

For the last four or five days I've had the song stuck in my head

Everything is great
Everything is grand
I've got the whole wide world in the palm of my hand
Everything is perfect
It's falling into place
I can't seem to wipe this smile off my face...

I've got everything that I need
Right in front of me...

Life's a happy song
when there's someone by your side to sing along

Maybe it's because it's spring? Maybe it's because I'm finally somewhat content at work?  Perhaps because I'm going to spend a week with the two cutest boys on the planet and get a new baby niece? Maybe it's because of... other reasons...? Who knows. But even if it's just because the flowers are in bloom and the mountains are green, it's nice to feel so lighthearted. Someone actually used the word "glowing" yesterday. I don't know if I'd go that far... isn't that word reserved for expectant mommies? Yeah... that's not me. 

Anyway, I'm bracing for impact for the inevitable crash. I always crash. But I'm enjoying this while it lasts.

In other news- For those of you that don't live your lives according to my FB status updates, referring to the previous post- I've paid for it. It's official. I've done it. It makes me want to gag. Seriously. It's the ickiest feeling ever, but I did it. I'm trying. You can't fault me for trying. Six months. That's all I'm giving it. It's more than the four days I gave it last time.

Now if I could only get men under 50 to look at my profile... hmmm....

Single Eyes

Watch out world! Lock up your grandfathers and rich uncles because...

I have an online dating profile!

Oh my gosh- stop screaming and sit back down. You're just embarrassing yourself and everyone else.

The boys at work have been hounding me to sign up. You all know how I feel about it- but I bit the bullet and did it. I haven't really done much on it- mostly because it scares the hell out of me.  I can't really talk to anyone yet because I haven't bitten the pay-for-it bullet. So A couple of times a day I get an email that they've found my perfect match, I do the heebie jeebie dance and delete the email. But it's progress, right? Sort of? A little? A smidge?

It's too much pressure! All the guy's profiles say that they're looking for marriage. I'm not. At least not yet. I'm looking for practice.  I need practice before I can start thinking about that kind of stuff! I just don't know if I can do it! I had a mild panic attack when I hit Go- but it's there. Feel free to look me up and laugh to your heart's content. Just don't tell me you did it.

As I've been speaking of dating and all kinds of stuff with coworkers, I have been enlightened that I live life with "single eyes". Apparently I often say stuff like, "you haven't seen the movie yet?" or "why can't you just take a nap?" Huh... Weird. The things I totally take for granted are a such luxury when you have things like kids and a spouse. I'm so spoiled.

I can go to movies when I want. And dinner. And the theater. I have a pretty sweet deal here... maybe I should go delete that profile...

Pretty Fly for a White Guy

On my 21st birthday, my friends Heather and Amanda kidnapped me from my house, blindfolded me, paraded me around town with this ridiculous blindfold that announced I was 21 and ended up taking me to a surprise destination. A bar. A BAR??? I'd never been in a bar before! I felt so scandalous! We sat at a table and ordered virgin drinks and mozzarella sticks (we're classy). 

The thing about this bar was... well, It was a karaoke bar. They wouldn't  let me leave until I sang. I picked out the song that was forever to become my go-to karaoke song, "Hopelessly Devoted" from Grease. I rocked it! I totally rocked it! I even got a standing ovation! I mean- I was the first person in a long line of people who could carry a tune, so automatically I was awesome.

Fast-forward a bunch of years later...

This week is hospital week at my place of work. Why? I don't know. All I know is that they give us free stuff and have random activities that no one can really participate in because most of us are *gasp* working. 

Do you see where this is going? Does foreshadowing mean nothing to you?

Today's random activity was a grand karaoke party. They've been announcing it for weeks. I don't normally get involved in hospital stuff- but this one intrigued me. If only I weren't a giant feathery chicken! I let the sign up date come and go and didn't do anything about it. I mean- I joked about it- teased others that they should sign up- but had no intention of doing so myself.

My friend who has been off work forever didn't know there was a party going on- so I immediately started teasing that he should sign up, I'm sure they'd let him. He said that he did have a jam that he rocked pretty hard- and I dared him. I said, "I'll do it if you do it!"

So down to the par-tay we went (luckily it was a slow-ish day in the ER so we could do it and leave our poor other coworker there to hold the fort). There were some ok singers, one freaking awesome singer that no one wanted to follow, and a loooooot of empty time slots.

"Come on- go sign up!" I said with a little nudge to the elbow.

"I'm thinking that's not going to happen," said the even bigger chicken than me.

I asked the person who looked like she was in charge if we could still sign up- there were lots of spaces and a few no shows to boot- so to keep the party going- they were letting pretty much anyone in. I grabbed the book and took it back to him.

"Look, your song is totally in this book! you *have* to do it!"

"You do it."

"No way- I'm chickening out- but you have to do it."

"I'm not going to do it. Let's go back inside."

"We can't go back inside- because I'm going to do it!" I grabbed the book and walked to the judges table and asked "Where do I sign up?"

The judge asked what my song was- 

"Hopelessly Devoted"

"When do you want to go?"

"As soon as possible because I really should probably get back to work."

"Well, the person who is signed up for right now didn't show up- so how about right now?"

Immediately the blood drained from my face. "Now?"

"You said as soon as possible and you can't get sooner than now."

I couldn't feel my hands. Or my feet. Or my face. Or my lungs. I couldn't breathe. How the hell was I supposed to sing?! It's been so long since I've sung in front of people. The last time I did it I made such a fool of myself. I mean- I can sing in choirs and church and stuff like that- but solo with a microphone singing something I'm supposed to belt? Oh my gosh. I may very well have peed myself and I wouldn't have even known.

Luckily the microphone kept going out on me so people didn't hear half the song anyway. I was crap. I'm honestly not fishing for compliments. It was crap. BUT I lived to tell about it. 

When I got back to the sunny corner we were hiding in- which wasn't nearly as uncrowded as I remember it being... where did all those people come from? Were there always so many people there watching? Gah! I stood in the sun to try to warm my hands. I was freeeeezing! I always get cold when I'm nervous!

My friend turned to me and said, "Do you have any idea how much I hate you right now?" What? Did that mean what I thought it meant?! It DID! My making a complete ass of myself gave him the courage to attempt the same! He went to the judges, gave them his song and he was up next! *squeeee!!!*

There is nothing that will make your day faster than seeing a 6'3 whiter than white guy sing Marvin Gaye's Let's Get It On. Oh my gosh it was the best thing ever! He brought down the house! I'm pretty sure it's my new favorite work memory. I was armed with my iPad and meant to record the whole thing- but somehow only ended up with pictures of it...? I don't know. I was planning on using it for blackmail- but it blew up in my face because he actually recorded ME!

But by mutual agreement, we deleted all evidence from electronics. I *watched* him delete the video of me. He only assumes I deleted his.

Beware the Bat Boy

I don't know what made me think of this, but I have to tell you this story.

Years and years ago when I was living in Provo, I had the BIGGEST crush on this one guy. Kaetty, you'll remember him (you'll probably remember this whole story). We never called guys by their names for fear they- or someone- would overhear us talking about them. So this guy's nickname was 6'8. If you can't guess why, then we can't be friends.

Anyway- I had *such* a crush on him. (he was the second guy in the Jerk Alert post) I met him at institute at a leadership training meeting. We were put in a group and told to make a bridge out of mini marshmallows and dried spaghetti noodles. That was probably the dumbest activity I've ever been party to- but I remember it so I must have learned something from it. He was wearing khaki shorts and a red hoodie (dangerous apparel in Provo with so many Zoobies lurking about- granted, we were at UVSC institute so it was a little more permissible... outside the Lord's school and all). I don't know that I would say I have a "type" but if I did, he'd fit the profile.

Ok. that last sentence was a complete lie. I totally have a type. Tall and nerdy. It's a weakness. I'm taking medication to get over it. The doctors say it isn't contagious.

ANYWAY!

It's not all tall nerdy guys who send me. They also have to have a personality. I know, weird, right? Well this story also contains another tall.. not so nerdy, but super weird guy. He looked like this:

I'm not kidding. His nickname at our house was literally "Bat Boy" because he LOOKED like this except he was like, 6'6 or 6'10 or something.

He was in my ward and on the activities committee. I was also on the activities committee. And to make it more interesting, he was friends with 6'8. Tall guys gotta stick together, I guess (none of his roommates were under 6'5).

So because I was on the activities committee with this kid, I had to get to know him and spend time around him. He drove me absolutely bananas. His personality was like running a cheese grater over a chalkboard amplified by 50 and then sticking your finger in a light socket while standing in a puddle of lemon juice. But because I'm a sweet, tolerant person [cough*hairball*cough] I was friendly. I even condescended to give him the occasional obligatory hug. bleh...

Being a girl, I of course have some internal conniving qualities built in. I thought- "Hey, I could get Bat Boy to put in a good word for me with 6'8." Sounds logical, right?  So one evening after an activities committee meeting, I drove him home. We were sitting in front of his house chatting when I decided to go in for the kill. I asked him about 6'8. Was he interested in anyone? (me) Did he have a crush on anyone? (me) Did he ever talk about anyone in particular? (me)

Never in my life has a conversation gone so awry. He got a sly smile on his face and said, "oh Bakeshow, That's just so sweet."

I literally had no idea what he was talking about so I said, "I literally have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know that for a long time you've liked me. And I know that you're just talking about [6'8] to make me jealous. It's really sweet of you, but I just have to be honest with you- I don't like you that way."

Uhhhhh.... what? Where the hell did that come from?! I can NOT in recollection think of any time I might have given this crazy eyed psycho the idea that I had any interest in him whatsoever. But how do you tell someone that without being flat out mean?

So I just said, "You've got it wrong- I really am asking about 6'8." But he wasn't going to have it. He just thought I was trying to save face. Seriously. That was the most awkward conversation I've ever had. I politely kicked him out of the car and drove as fast as I could back home to tell my roommates.

To my recollection, I never spoke to him after that- no idea whatever happened to him. I'm not sure who was the jerk in that situation. me for thinking he was Bat-Crap crazy- or him for rejecting something I wasn't even offering... weird...And after all that, he STILL never put in a good word for me with 6'8.

Play us a Song You're the Piano (Wo)man

Last time I went home to visit, I ran an errand with my sister. A simple errand. Nothing exciting. We had to stop by the music store to pick up some sheet music and rosin for her kid. No big deal right? Well, if any of you have ever been in a music store, you know they have a rule that you *have* to play one of the grand pianos. Seriously. They don't let you leave until you've played one. There are like, fifty to choose from. Some are shiny and black, some are cherry wood- they don't care which one you play, as long as you sit down and play one.

I haven't touched a piano in three years. and it's been even longer since I really REALLY sat down and played. We had a piano when I lived in Colorado, but the one I got was kind of a bummer to play because it was so old and mushy and out of tune. It was tinny sounding and just not fun. It was free- so I can't complain too loudly- but I really only got it for my roommate to play. She plays *much* better than I. 

Anyhoo, because I had to, while at this store with my sister, I sat down and started to play the song I've had memorized for... ohhh. 18 years. 

I choked. I totally, freaking choked! I could not make it through the first line of the song. I'd completely lost it. It was horrifying! I thought it would be like riding a bike- that I could just pick it up right where I left off. I've never been that great at playing the piano- but this one song was mine. The muscle memory was gone- I couldn't play! 

That afternoon when I got back to my parent's house, I sat down at their piano and tried to play a song. Nothing. I couldn't even read the music! I had to stop and count lines to figure out what the notes were. That was just sickening! So the next day, I went with my mother, shopped around a little and found a ridiculously amazing deal on an electric piano. It's not a keyboard- it's an electric piano. There is a difference. 

The only thing was they didn't have the stand in stock. So I came home with the piano, but since I didn't have a stand to put it on, I never opened the box. I didn't even open it to look at it and giggle over owning a piano. 

But today? Yeah, today I got the stand. I drove five hours from Boise, got home really late and still found time to sit in my living room and put it together!!!

I have a piano!!!

I still can't play worth a darn. Seriously, I was never really that good anyway- but I want to be able to at least be as good as I was when I used to be not as bad as I am now.