Maybe it bit somebody, and this is the last step before putting it down.

I've driven by this a few times now:If you can't tell from the picture, yes, the truck is completely fenced in. I'm just wondering what it did to deserve such treatment. There's not even any maneuvering room, so it must have been bad.

I have been told I have to blog this. :S

So last night, Michael and I were helping get his younger sister, Michelle, settled into Helaman Halls. At one point, she was scoping out the room and Michael and I were seated on the bed. I looked down and saw that in between us was his wallet! Now, Michael has a tendency to lose things, so I snatched it up and stuck it in my back pocket. I wanted to actually be present for this "oh no, I've lost my wallet again!" moment. That's always good entertainment, right? Well, hours later, we were back at my house, and I told him that it'd be wise for him to start trying to figure out what I had of his. (I was getting tired of waiting for the non-forthcoming reaction.) He ran through some possibilities: "I've got my keys. I've got my wallet." What?! "Are you sure you have your wallet?" "Yes, it's right here." "Oh no...is this Michelle's wallet?!" I pulled it out and, sure enough, it had her driver's license inside. I felt so sheepish. I immediately started thinking of ways this could have already inconvenienced her, and I felt awful. Michael, of course, thought it was hilarious. And his only concession to helping me out of this jam was to give me Michelle's email address.

I emailed her last night, but not until way late. This morning, she still hadn't responded, and I needed to head to SLC for work. I finally had the brilliant idea of leaving it for her at the Cannon Center. (For the record, Tanna also thought the whole thing was hilarious.) Turns out, Michelle hadn't even realized it was missing.

All in all, it's got to make a great story for her: I moved to BYU and had my wallet stolen within hours of my arrival!

I work fo' da Church, foo!

Well, it's time for another division meeting! Gotta love 'em. And it was only scheduled to last 4 hours! Fabulous. Fortunately, it only ran for 2 1/2, which was still 2 1/2 hours too long. However, I've learned from past experience that notes on what Tianna and I are thinking are far more entertaining than notes on what's actually happening. And now, some humorous anecdotes and jewels from my "notes." (Unless otherwise specified, everything in quotes was actually part of the presentation. Believe it or not. Everything else was between T and me.)

• We started off with my boss, Mike, singing to himself before the meeting actually began. This is how I knew it would be an Awesome Meeting. For the record, Mike can't carry a tune for anything (and he'll be the first to admit it), but he has a marked tendency to burst out into "song."
• Our main gripe about these meetings is that we're required to attend, only to hear hours of gobbledy-gook that is all about all the other teams in the department/division. We are never discussed. It's like they hate us or something. But directly after the opening prayer, Dennis (my actual boss, above me and below Mike) was called to the front. "Here we go!" we thought. But no...he didn't actually discuss us at all. He was just presenting an award to somebody who was recently transferred to our team for working here for 20 years. [sigh] It was a serious letdown.
• Ransom (the division head running this shindig) had just finished saying "I want this meeting to be an open forum for discussion" when a guy got up and left the room. No open forums for him!
• About 3 minutes in, Ransom's cell phone rang. We think it was his boss. He explained that he was in a meeting with about 40 people. Then, the classic line: "No, you can call him—he's not here."
• I managed to write on the back of my left elbow. I didn't just smear ink on it; I wrote on it.
• We're dealers! We're trying to get people hooked.
• "People...have told the Vatican to take a hike! That's the kind of relationship and rapport we want to maintain around the world."
• Really, the excruciating boredom was all my fault. Ransom kept asking stuff like "Is it necessary to go through all of this?" and "Is this helpful?" I just didn't have the guts to stand up and say "Hecks no! For the love of all that is holy, let us leave!!!" Sorry, y'all. I fail.
  
• "I don't have official sanction. I'm just moving forward."
• It's like he expects us to remember stuff from our past meetings!
• "How do you do rap? What is rap all about?...Who are we trying to embrace with the rap program?" (It's possible this was actually some sort of acronym. But he didn't explain it—mayhap it was also addressed in one of our prior meetings?)
• "When is the beginning?"
• I now have smudged boredom.
• T: "Hurry! Run! Be a straggler!"
• I learned that Tanna's shoes are teeny and transform me into an Ugly Stepsister.
• Mike: "Our success came from the war chapters in Alma."
• "I can't pronounce it, but I am one!"
• "Well, on the back end, it's archery."
• BRAINS...LIQUEFYING...DRIPPING ONTO THE FLOOR...

I'm still not sure I agree with his assessment.

Okay, time for an amazing story. We got a new high councilor this week, and he spoke for a few minutes at the end of sacrament. Turns out, he's been assigned to Institute for the last few years. He realizes that our ward doesn't have an Institute chair yet, but he "knows somebody in the ward who gets stuff done. She's sitting right down here—Sis. Jessica. I've read about you in the program! You only have 2 callings. (He turned away just as I held up 4 fingers.) The fact that you have two callings means that the bishop knows who to call when he needs something done! So as soon as the bishop gets on the ball and calls you as Institute co-chair, will you collect these surveys on the back table about what course people want taught?" Of course, I agreed. But I was apparently quite red when I got up to conduct the closing hymn. (I mean, high praise, to be sure. But I hate being singled out in front of a group!) Afterward, he came down and shook my hand. And, y'know, met me. He mentioned again my only having 2 callings, and I pointed out to him that the truth of the matter is that I have 4. He immediately started looking around: "Where's your bishop?!" He seemed horrified. It was kinda funny.

I totally just finished this!

I've been working on this cross stitch project for years! Okay, so for the first several years, I only brought it out during General Conference (having something for my hands to do helps me to focus). But a coupla months ago, I started working on this hardcore. I am supremely pleased with myself. I can't stop grinning.I still have to frame it, and it needs ironing before then. But I wanted to brag tonight!

I so wish I had had my camera. And hadn't been driving.

I saw this truck today. It was parked on the side of the road, and across the top of the windshield was written, "Four Sail." The driver's side window read "4-Sell." It made me want to cry. I sincerely hope it was some sort of gimmick: "Hey, all y'all orthographic autocrats* out there! You can't stop looking at this, can you? You'd better just buy it so you can fix it!"

*No, this is not my own phraseology. And no, I'm not one. It has been sworn.

Disturbing Interactions

First off, I will admit to being a bit on edge today. My yesterday was filled with horror and terror (there should be a cool way to combine those words, but I can't find one!) and the upshot is that I'm both exhausted and a bit high-strung today. Just so you know. And just so you know that I know.

Okay, encounter number one: I was in the cafeteria downstairs getting lunch (which already creeps me out because it's crowded and I always feel like people are looking at me). As I was in line to pay, this older guy (50's? 60's? in any case, old enough to be my father, easy) sidled up to me to say "You're nice and tall." (And of course, as it was very loud down there, when I say he "sidled up," I mean he "sidled right up." Inches away from me.) What the?! What do you say to that? "Well yes, I have to agree that I am freakishly tall. Speaking of which, it's always been a sore spot with me, so I'm really glad you've just pointed it out. And in such a decidedly disturbing fashion! Thank you, Stranger, for your time." I mean, really. After I'd paid and was waiting for my co-worker to do the same, he came up to me again. Wanted to know where I worked and what I did. And whaddya know?! He works on the same floor! THEN, after I'd finally escaped upstairs, he tracked me down in my cubicle! DAH! Creepy man, go away! If he'd been younger, I'd have said he was hitting on me. And not in a good way. It certainly felt like it. But he's older, so it was all rather unclear. Either way, a certain case of unwanted attention.

Encounter number two: In the elevator down to the parking garage, the guy in there with me stared at me. The whole time. Guess what? I DON'T LIKE TO BE LOOKED AT! Gives me the creeping heebie-jeebies.

Second disclaimer of this post: it is entirely possible that people don't actually look at me very much. I mean, what's to look at? But it feels like it, and as I'm so self-conscious and insecure about it, it amounts to the same thing for me. It has been suggested that I start staring back at people, just to verify whether or not they're really watching me. Not sure how I feel about this idea, though...

in which I display heretofore unknown skillz

I'm all proud of myself right now. Why? Because I managed to blow dry my hair this morning using a brush. I've never been able to get the hang of the whole hair-dryer-in-one-hand-brush-in-t'other thing. I have not this skill. For me, drying my hair involves a lot of hanging upside down and using my hands to get through my hair. But no more! I used a brush today, though I ended up settling on having the brush in my left hand and hair dryer in the right; I had started out the other way 'round, which made more sense, but I couldn't do it. All in all, though, I am well pleased. It took hardly any longer at all than my usual method, and my hair is a lot less frizzy today.

(Is this the part where I determine that I've earned myself a reward from Arctic Circle?)

Way to buck expectations there, friend!

So, I'm driving to church today, right? Crossing the street in front of me is this chick wearing a heavy purple overcoat! Faux fur on the cuffs and collar and everything. All zipped up. It actually threw me for a second. I was all, like, "Wait, is it winter? I'm wearing short sleeves!" It took me a second to realize that she was the one being weird because it is, in fact, August.

Glory, Laud, and Honor

I was informed this afternoon that I am "still smart." Yes, my brains had been called into question. But by some fluke which I'm sure involved as little of my brains as possible, I managed to solve the problem and earn this praise.

And of all this I might have been mistress...

I totally just found Mr. Darcy in a book I'm working on!Sure, he has a different name in this book. But I imagine that's just to keep all his adoring fans at bay.

Also, Tanna says that he could be Wickham. I think I can tell the difference between Darcy and Wickham, Tanna!

P.S.! This was owned by the same guy! Note the name!!!

I rarely have excuses to toot my own horn, so here we go!

I just want to briefly point out my awesomeness. I'm working on a cross stitch project, and I'm getting close to the end. It's down to the detail-work now. (Which is nothing to sneer at; I shall be doing several things I've never done before. Hopefully I won't ruin what I've done so far, 'cuz it's looking pretty good, if I do say so myself.) The finishing of this project will definitely be blogged, 'cuz I'm going to be all kinds of proud of myself.

But that's for later. My current awesomeness has to do with the fact that I threaded 8 strands of blending filament (it's shiny thread, and it's a beast to work with) onto my needle at once, and in one try! Really, I am in awe of my own mad skillz. And in case anyone doubts this prodigious feat, there was a witness. So yes: I rock.

I work with awesome people.

I sent an email to our Hawaii site this morning, telling them I had loaded the books they sent. I was supposed to attach a list of the specific books, but I forgot. So I sent them another one, asking if they'd wanted a file to go with the email, and attached it. I just got this response back:

"I thought you were helping me to develop a greater gift of receiving more detailed inspiration."

I love my coworkers. :D

I find this highly entertaining. Yes, because I'm a nerd.

According to dictionary.com:

• "PS" means "phrase structure."
  
• "ps" stands for "picoseconds."
  
• "Ps." is an abbreviation for "Psalms."
• "ps." can be either "pieces" or "pseudonym."
• If you want to abbreviate "postscript," your only options are "P.S." and "p.s."
  
• (In case you're wondering what you might possibly be mistaken for, even though you're right, "P.S." can also stand for "passenger steamer," "permanent secretary," "Privy Seal," "prompt side" (theater) and "public school."

I'm just sayin', is all.

Aren't abbreviations fun? I love them.

Sometimes, it's your FEARS that come true.

I was getting into the elevator down in the lobby this morning, and the heel of my shoe got stuck in the gap between the elevator and the floor! I don't know any woman that wears heels who hasn't worried about just this thing. But it was really stuck! The guy getting in behind me almost ran me over, but he stopped himself and waited while I yanked my shoe back out. It took a couple of tries, too. Tianna and I laughed all the way to our cube.

Tianna's Thoughts: Taken from Jessica's Head

So last night, I was wheeling a cart of books out to the car so we could take them back up to SLC. This one was in the top bin:Say what? I thought it was odd. Tianna pointed out that since we were taking it back, it must have already been processed and posted online. So I checked it out, and, sure enough, it's clippings from Georgia newspapers about people in/from Texas. So bizarre.

I am so smatr!

I just burned myself. How? By pouring boiling water on the palm of my hand. Was it an accident? Nope. I was putting a noodle on my hand so I could pop it in my mouth and see if the pasta's done. But I didn't want to grab it in my fingers; that'd be hot! So I poured it into the palm of my hand, out of the large metal spoon I was using to stir. Of course, there was a fair amount of boiling water on the spoon, too. This is why you should always use wooden spoons!

Weird Photos of Today

I've seen this car(?) in the parking lot here at work a few times now. I finally took pictures today.
So...weird, but not really blogworthy. Until you look at the hood:
Is this Sid's truck?

Moving on, I got Panda Express for lunch. (Actually, T picked it up for me since I was violently nauseous and afraid to go out into the heat.) Point is, I love their cream cheese rangoons. Really a lot. But now I'm a bit worried:
Is there something corrosive in them? They melted the styrofoam!

There's really no accounting for the way my mind works. I've stopped trying.

Sometimes my imagination does interesting things. In church today, I had several really entertaining thoughts occur to me, and I thought I'd share.

• I was reading in Helaman during Sacrament Meeting, and Helaman 1:12 says that Kishkumen was in disguise when he murdered Pahoran, and verse 10 talks about the speediness of his flight. I swear to you, the image that came into my mind was of a man in a toga (a reference to Julius Caesar, I guess) wearing those silly glasses with the nose and mustache attached, and probably the big bushy eyebrows, too. And as he fled around a corner, the glasses fell off, and a little bit later, a wig went flying on the wind. Who says the war chapters aren't entertaining?!
• In Alma 53:15, which was part of our Sunday School lesson, Helaman fears that the people of Ammon would lose their souls if they broke their covenant of peace. Unbidden, the thought came to my mind of dementors, acting as covenant-enforcers, of all things. Would we all take our covenants a bit more seriously under the threat of the Dementor's Kiss?
• Our lesson in Relief Society was on emergency preparedness, and Val, who was teaching, made reference to the ward "Emergency Leader...or whatever you call it." I pictured this girl organizing and executing major disasters, almost like a conductor leading a symphony. I could see her bringing in the earthquakes, supplementing that with fire and/or floods. Telling the assembled "instruments" that "I need a bit more from the famine section here." I guess it's a good thing that "Emergency Leader" isn't the actual technical title of the calling. That'd just be freaky.

I have been accused of silliness when I start imaging literal interpretations of things. Silliness, or bolts of creativity sent to lighten my mood? You decide.

Pleasant News

Ok. My job for the Church is a temporary one; it only lasts for 6 months. But it seems that I have made myself indispensable, so my boss and my boss' boss have been working on getting me a permanent job for the last few months. They tell me every couple of days that they're working on it as hard as they can. (I love Mike. He's the kind of manager who works really hard for his employees. I think he views his job as facilitating our work, instead of t'other way around. He's a dear.)

Well, he called me this morning. I didn't hear the phone, but I got his message before I left. He wanted me to call him. So I did, and he said that although They won't give him a permanent slot, They did concede a year-long internship. (They're still sorting out if this means a year from now, or a year from when I started, which would make it another 6 months.) But Mike is pretty optimistic about being able to get me a permanent job by then.

Ironically, my fortune cookie yesterday told me that "Soon, [I] will receive pleasant news." Tianna has decided that she truly believes these things now.

I've actually had my own cubicle and a brand new computer for a few weeks now. I thought it was highly entertaining that I had all this official, new equipment, but not a real job. :D

Anyway, Mike apparently called several people this morning before he found somebody that had my cell number. He called Tianna. He called Jeri. He called the missionaries here in Orem. Seems that he was really excited to tell me the good news. The coolest thing was when I got in here and told the missionaries. Sis. X said that Mike had called and asked her to have me call him when I got in. So she left me "a little note:"Tianna and I both laughed. Hard.

Today's actually been quite fun. So many people are so glad that they can keep me! It makes me feel really special, and really loved. It's awesome.