One of My Favorite Things

Nope, I'm not talking about the over-sized PEZ dispenser I got for Christmas (although I do very much enjoy that too!). . . I am talking about those moments in life that just make you step back and say 'Whhhhaaaaaatttt?' I had such a moment this weekend.

I've officially notched one more mark in my post-high school 'that was an awkward but so great encounter' pole. I am talking about those moments that you just want to tell everyone about and even though nobody REALLY cares, they can relate. There is usually some sort of snotty 'revenge' factor involved and I thrive on it - sad, but true. I'm sure many of you have heard about my first glorious moment on this list with the basketball player from high school that I ran into while I was buying ice cream for people at work and he was the one serving it. Yeah, that's right. Baskin Robins baby!

So, this weekend's encounter happened with one of my old teachers from elementary school. Although she was one of my favorites, she did make an attempt to scar me for life by asking me not to raise my hand so much in class. (For those of you who don't get it yet, I was a mild kiss up in school. I knew I was smart. . .and I wanted everyone else to know that too, I guess? Man, I was a brat. Over it. . . I hope.) Yes, she actually asked me not to raise my hand so much because the other kids feel intimidated. For you elementary school teachers out there, this is NOT a good tactic. Asking a kid to stop trying in school before they are even in Jr High (or ever really) is not the brightest idea. Good thing I didn't listen. . . ok really, it's a good thing that my parents had some four letter words to say about it so I continued to raise my hand. Anyway, no permanent damage but I will never forget. . .

So, I happened to run into this teacher at a large retailer the morning after Christmas. . . ok, ok it was Wal-Mart. Whew, that feels better now that I've aired my dirty laundry. I went to Wal-Mart to buy storage tubs. Anyway, the run-in happened at the check-out counter and this was the conversation:

Teacher: 'It's. . . Carlee. . . right?'
Carlee: 'Yeah, how are you?'
Teacher: 'Good. What are you up to?'

Story Pause: silly me, I thought she was talking about what I was doing in life, not right this second. Otherwise, I would have said 'Buying storage tubs.' But instead, I said:

'Oh, just working and playing and living. You know, the normal.'

Here's the kicker. . . wait for it. . . to which she said 'Oh, so you work here?' with a look of total disdain on here face.

Inside Carlee monologue: 'No!!! I do NOT work at Wal-Mart! Did you see a blue vest because I'm sure not wearing one! In addition, even if I did work there I wouldn't tell you after that horrible look you just gave me. . . trying to crush my hopes for my non-existent retail future just like you did to my education in 5th grade!'

At the risk of offending anyone who does work at this fine retail establishment, I have nothing against your job. I say do what you do. All I am saying is that when someone tells you what they are 'doing', no matter what the answer, don't ever look disgusted. Ever. It doesn't matter if they say that they are working at a strip joint. Love it, embrace it, welcome it. Don't offend someone by looking like you just smelled bad milk. It's rude and if you do it, you should be shot.

To make a really long story short, I did proceed to tell her what my job is but in retrospect, I almost wished I hadn't. I wished I had invented some story about how I was on work-release from the jail and that I was only granted work release because I had to take care of my three kids. Imagine THAT face, huh?

I did chuckle to myself as I left Wal-Mart, knowing that I am fortunate enough after 3 years of work to be in a better place than she is after 20. She was so smug, I had to get some satisfaction out of that. Baskin Robins and Wal-Mart. . . man, life is good.

Holiday Sentiments. . .

So last week I promised that I would break out of my 'trying to be funny' shell and deliver and emotion-packed holiday blog. Well, Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get to blog at all over the present-stuffed, food-filled, glorious weekend that I had. It was THAT good - I couldn't even blog. But, I am going to try and tone down the humor a bit for this one so stay with me.

As I said, this weekend was filled with great things - family, friends, presents (call me spoiled, I don't care) and so much good food that my training is completely thrown off whack but at least I have leftover lunch today - nothing better. Shameless Plug: I don't care what anyone says, my mother makes the best potato salad, hands down. I know this may spark debate but I will win because she does.

Anyway, in the midst of all the pandemonium, it gets difficult for me to sit back and pay attention to what it all means. I'm like a kid in a candy store really - I love everything so much that I can't really decide what I am most grateful for. That very thought brought so much irony with it that I couldn't help but share. . . I have so many blessings in my life that it starts getting difficult to be grateful for it all.

I often think about what it is that brought me to this place (for you sarcasm enthusiasts: no, not my desk at work and yes, I know it was my car that 'brought me here') in my life. Why was it that I was born in the great place and time that I was born in? Why do I have a house and a job and a family (crazy as they can be at times) and the ability to maintain an excellent standard of living? Why am I not that homeless woman on the street or in that family that struggles to make ends meet every month? Have you ever thought about that? What is it that determined your place in life? Was it choices that were made or sheer dumb luck or maybe something more. . .it's a slight tangent but something to ponder none-the-less.

I thought about what it is that makes this season so 'magical', if you will, and I can really only come back to one thing - belief. Christmas gives people the chance to believe in something and whether it's God or Santa or simply believing in the good nature of people, it makes a difference. Believing in something brings hope and offers peace in an otherwise chaotic world. People become kinder, softer somehow. Genuine emotions can be shared without reservation or judgment. It's that belief in a greater good that does that.

At the risk of continuing on and botching this more than I already have, I will sign off shortly. I know that I rambled but that's where we are at without humor. . . rambling (at this point - I hope it gets better). I am utterly grateful for all that I have, especially the people that I have in my life. 'Things' are wonderful and I am glad that I have them, but more so, I am grateful for my friends and family. Those people that always have something to offer me when I need it - emotionally, spiritually and otherwise. I know that they aren't in my life by accident. Nothing is in my life by accident. We should live with purpose and on purpose. That is my resolution.

SPAM-alot

This might be the most ironic blog that I have posted yet, seeing as how I do work in an industry that utilizes e-mail communication to the masses. 'We send out emails to our prospective students in order to maintain. . . .' blah, blah, blah. Bottom line, we are spammers. Those emails that you get 10 copies of over the course of 3 days. . . yeah, that's my company. Sidebar - I am not directly responsible for these emails and cannot be held accountable for your mailbox being over it's size limit so don't hate.

Anyway, back to my point about this being ironic. The background on this takes a minute so please be patient. Additional warning - this is in no way meant to be sacrilegious. . . just truthful observations.

The tirade that I am bringing to the table today was spawned by a conversation with my good buddy Vale. Vale is a long-time friend and as such, still has my original email address that, embarrassingly enough makes reference to a time when 'Friends' was still on TV and it was popular to quote it. Anyway (again), Vale was kind enough to shoot me an email and in my response, I started to tell him that I was lucky that I saw it because that address is now my official 'Junk Email Address' - you know, the place where you send everything that you signed up for or needed an email address for like Ticketmaster or Delta Airlines? (You can usually pick out if a person sent you to their junk address by the email address itself. If it's their name @yahoo, you are typically ok. If it's something like cutiepie36@hotmail.com or lovestransformers@aol.com, you can pretty much bet that you have been junked.)

So this conversation got me thinking about the mass amounts of SPAM that I get every day at this email address and how it's nothing short of a miracle that the account hasn't expired. (I'd like to thank MSN Today for reminding me on a daily basis that I need to empty it.) I get all sorts of stuff to this address but there is one major violator when it comes to SPAM. You know who it is? My grandmother. Nope, that wasn't a typo. That's right world, my grandmother is a spammer and one of the worst kinds! Not only do I get email (strike that, I very RARELY get an actual email that she has written and if I do, it's to the whole free world) after story after poem after pictures of cute kittens hugging puppies , the emails usually have some sort of religious bottom-line that is hidden in the depths of the sign-off.

Again, this is where this could go astray. I am a religious person. I believe in God. I respect Him and the fact that He gives us blessings. I do not, however, think that He starts or even really condones SPAM.

I'm sure you have all seen what I am talking about - you get some random email that talks about friendship or some inherently good moral value and then the email is ruined by the line 'If you love Jesus, you will forward this to everyone you know. If you don't love Jesus and hate all people, you will delete this.' Now, is that really fair? Just because I don't feel like spamming my friends with some 40 page story doesn't mean that I hate Jesus and all people. In fact, I would argue that I love humanity more by stopping this INSANITY! Besides, I am yet to see the 11th commandment that states 'Thou shalt forward all emails about ______ (insert moral value here) post haste.' Yup, that fits right up there with 'Thou shalt not kill.'

I will even give you the fact that these uplifting emails do have their place - every once in a while and without the shameless reference to religious icons. I can take emails that are about religion and ones that are good-hearted stories. . . every once in a while. . .BUT without the side of guilt, please! No need.

And I'm back in the game. . .

So, a few people have noticed by absence from Blogger over the last while. I have to tell you, I have not abandoned my new favorite hobby nor do I intend to. The pressure was just too much. 'What pressure?' you may be asking? The pressure to be FUNNY!
I don't know if you have noticed but my blog links to the blogs of some of the funniest people that I know. (If you haven't noticed, you should check them out. Just a warning, you might pee a little.) So, being surrounded by hillarious people has sent me into a tailspin. I'm surrounded by whit and I am a dud. I can't let my readers down. Nothing amusing has really happened in my life. What is a blogger to do?
Then, it happened. One of my fellow bloggers (thanks Steph) reassured me that I don't always have to be funny. While it is probably better for mass-reading and entertainment purposes, it isn't necessary. I can write at will. At the very same time, one of the most respected bloggers that I know (the woman herself, the Nat Attack) wrote an inspiring blog about our armed forces. Humorous, nope. Incredible, yes. (Again, shameless plug. . . READ IT). It was the answer I was seeking all along.
So, while I am about to make what can only be considered a 'humorous' entry, you can expect something a little more sentimental around the holidays. Don't be nervous, you don't have to partake. I'm just saying that it will happen. I'm branching out and frankly, back in the game. . .

Quiz

You are walking through another department at work (very clearly another department since you don't recognize any of the people and you sit at the other end of the building) and you see a table of deliciously tasty treats that have just been delivered. Do you:

A. Keep walking. They obviously aren't your treats and it would be weird to ask for any, let alone just take some.
B. Stop and wait for someone else to take some. If someone else from another department is eating, it may not be such a big deal. Afterall, you may have missed that email to the company annoucing that 'treats have arrived, who's hungry?'
C. Talk loudly about how good they look and/or how hungry you are and wait for someone in that area to give you the 'go ahead' to start scarfing. Have some sympathy. . .
D. Pilfer and pillage to your heart's content. Afterall, they are on a table where you were walking with no sign that says 'Stop. Don't eat without permission.' So really, it's fair game. If they didn't want you to eat them, they should have hid them somewhere else.

I know what I would do but apparently, it's less common than I thought. This small act could end up being the reason that you sit at your own table at the company party so choose wisely. . .

S.W.A.G.

It's officially Christmas! How do I know? Well, other than the busy crowds and screaming kids. . . I get free stuff. That's right. Just like Michael Scott, I love SWAG (Stuff We All Get)!
So far this year, the vendors at work are sending some great stuff - I'm pretty impressed. Mostly, it's been stuff that my trainer would kill me if I ate (like chocolate covered marshmallows - what a concept people!) but I appreciate it none-the-less. Especially because it means that they think we are important. . .which is what I have been trying to tell them! Ha! Totally kidding. But it makes us feel that way which is what counts.
Merry Christmas to us. . love our vendors. And Merry Christmas to you - I hope you also get free stuff from people you have never met! It could be the best concept in business. Don't skip that chapter.

Things I've Learned

It's been a while since my last post but for sure, a productive week! A lot has happened in the World O' Carlee since the last time I blogged - work continued to suck last week amidst the frigid weather and snow flurries (which I developed my yearly hate for. . . AGAIN), I battled the crowds at the annual Hamblin Family Park City Shopping Extravaganza (title not official but I'm looking into copywriting it. . it flows) and I finally got my house cleaned (only under pressure of having visitors, mind you) for the first time in weeks! Oh, and I got some new CD's in the mail over the weekend - Keith Urban. . . Yummy! Another shameless plug. . . what are we to do?
Despite the fact that these may not seem to add up to a 'productive week' on your scale, some pretty random stuff happened that I feel can only be shared in what I am calling "Lessons Learned'. Give me some feedback on whether or not you like this format because I may have to make it a weekly installment!

Lessons Learned
1. Don't knock on a specific profession around people who's profession is unknown to you. If you think I 'get' to sit in a cubicle all day and 'play' on my computer, you are wrong. Don't knock on people who 'have' to sit in a cubicle all day and 'work' on their computer all day. And if you do decide to rag on my job, do it when I'm not in the room.
2. Don't pull a person's hair if you aren't 100% positive that they are the person you thought they were from the back. And if you do make the huge mistake of pulling an unknown person's hair, don't try to make it up by hugging them! Awkward. (BTW, just to clear this up, I was the pull-ee not the pull-er).
3. Don't judge people's social consciousness by their shopping habits. Just because I like to shop doesn't mean that I don't care about poor people. Who do you think gets all of my old clothes?
4. Don't make partial payments (you know, 1/2 mid-month and then the other 1/2 at the end of the month) on your mortgage unless you know that your lender accepts them as such. Otherwise, you get nasty notices in the mail that have words like 'delinquent' and 'help' and 'failure' and 'credit mark' in them for no reason. . . and you may have to make an extra house payment. Enough said.
5. Don't try to understand men. They are confusing. They say that they only really think about three things - food, sports and hmmmm, so they should be simple. But, I've figured out that since all things somehow have to relate to one of those three things, that's what makes them difficult. Get yours minds out of the gutter dudes. There is more to life than food, sports and. . . ok. . . boobs (using that as a total place holder).
6. Don't be 'That' girl. You know those girls that get anything that they want, regardless of past, present or future circumstances? They are the same girl that takes whatever they want with total disregard to other people's feelings. The world revolves around them and they know it. In fact, you can't help but be subject to their charm. Annoyingly perfect - which makes the rest of us 'non-perfect' folks squirm with jealousy or anger or whatever that fire in your gut is actually called. 'That' girl can also be found using 'that's just how I am' as an excuse for everything (several of the most common situations when this is heard include flirting with another girl's love interest - ok, flirting with anything that moves, being late for everything
or having a blatant disregard for people around them, usually leaving your internal monologue to shout 'Hello! I am here too!'.)
7. Finally, do live by the crucial life lessons brought up every week in 'The Office'. This week, I learned that prison is more fun and probably more productive than work.

There it is. . . my week in a list of lessons. If I ever do decide to write a book, I really think the chapters will take this format. Any insight? (Only respond if you think it's good. Otherwise. . . I don't care. Another lesson learned. . . )

A Drunk + A Cop + A Comedy Show do NOT 'Happy Valley' make. . .

I know you are thinking that this could be the makings of the most scandalous 'Carlee Blog' yet and it very well could be. . . just not how you are thinking!

So we decided to venture down to Provo (aka 'Happy Valley' for all of you non-Utah participants in today's blog) on Saturday night to watch an improve comedy show at Comedy Sportz.

SHAMELESS PLUG: Comedy Sportz is hilarious and the show is totally different every time because it's improv. You should try it - shows at 8 and 10:15 every weekend on Center Street just off University. Wow, that was sad!

So, I was riding with my bud Aaron to the show and we missed the exit. I like to think it was because of my compelling conversation skills but it can probably really be attributed to bad directions. Anyway, we decided to make a u-turn at an intersection and before I know it, my head was hitting the side window. (No worries, my head is fine and my hair still looked good!)

Just as I turned to tell Aaron that it wasn't kosher to run over medians in the middle of the road (which is what I thought he hit), I saw another car a little to close to ours - ok, touching it. Reality set it. . . we had been hit by two old people in a Chrysler!

Because it's a long story - I'll give you the Reader's Digest version: pull over, call cops, old man comes over to look at the damage and smells mildly funny (if it was cologne, he needs his money back because you should never smell like booze voluntarily), our friends show up and laugh their faces off, two cops show up, interviews, questions to us about who was driving the other car, old man mildly feisty about the cops being there and they have no registration or insurance on them (they JUST cleaned out their glove box. . . liars!), more cops show up (I was guessing they were bored. . . it was, afterall, Provo), vehicle search, bad words from the old man, cans removed from their car (and we FOUND the booze smell!), exchange information, more bad words from the old man, citation issued to old people (I still don't know what for. . . but I have a really good guess!), Carlee and Aaron leave. Whew, that was good.

Despite the fact we still made the late comedy show, the night was less than stellar. So, while you thought the headline sounded like loads of fun, I am here to tell you that a drunk, a cop and a comedy show do NOT Happy Valley make.


As a side note, I just ate some enchilada soup for lunch and just for future reference, enchiladas should stay enchiladas and soup should stay soup. NEVER combine the two. It's sick.

Sales Tactic or Hate Crime?

Hey y'all from the great state of Texas. That's right, this blog is coming to you from the land where everything is bigger but the roads are still as confusing. I'm still trying to figure out which way is north. . . no mountains.
On Monday we set out on our average vacation shopping trip to a city called Round Rock. They have an outlet mall there that is chalked full of stuff that we still can't afford (Calvin, Kenneth and Coach all made an appearance of course but I didn't seem to have enough Benjamin, Abe or George to go around). We were meandering (yes, I do think you can only REALLY do this in Texas) through the stores and came upon a couple of kiosks with rather 'excited' employees working in them. Little did I know what we were about to get into.
The first kiosk we came to was a set-up for Dead Sea Salts. These lotions and other scrubs or some junk like that are supposed to be the best thing for your skin, so good in fact that they bring them all the way from the Dead Sea to Round Rock Texas to be sold. Can you even believe that? Anyway, the gentleman working at the kiosk turned to my mother (who is not that old mind you) and asked 'Can I ask you a question?' Based on his tone, we presumed the man was going to ask us where we found our fabulous sunglasses or something of the nature so of course, my mom said 'Sure!' Well, sunglasses were not his concern. This weirdo turned to my mom and said 'Are you ok walking around with your skin looking like that?' ARE YOU KIDDING ME? What in the world just happened? Did he just insult my mom in hopes of selling something? Do people actually buy into this garbage?
Morbidly offended we stared at each other and decided to move on. Unfortunately for us, this would not be our last encounter with this team of salespeople that apparently failed sales 101 at the local community college. Next up, hair central. . .
Me being a girl with somewhat longer locks, my hair does tend to be picked on by any salesperson with a remedy to all the ailments that could afflict such a coif (dry hair, straight hair, curly hair, blue hair, whatever). This trip was no exception. As we approached the second kiosk, I could see I was the new target - mom for the skin, Carlee for the hair. Here we go again.
The girl in the second kiosk wasted no time farting around the issue - she went straight for the heart. 'You straighten your hair? I have something to show you. . ' 'Not interested,' I said in my most polite, leave-me-alone voice. 'You probably have a cheap straightener. That's why you are burning your hair!' Then, it happened. . . she touched it. Mall Worker 366 (maybe that was her employee number, I don't really know) touched my hair. Did I ask her to? Nope. Did I hope she would? Double nope. Piece of advice: DON'T TOUCH ME. . . especially right after you insult me thanks! I WILL freak out. (Side note: if you know me, don't be afraid. We've probably already broken that touching plane and I will not freak out. If you are a total stranger who loves to insult their customers, hands off!)
Needless to say this encounter did not end well. I proceeded to tell the salesperson that I basically thought she should do a bit more research before she went around insulting me. I might have hit her or something but you can't risk being thrown in a Texas jail. . . not in this lifetime.
Question to the public: Did I just miss the day that made this a great sales tool? I can see the chapter now: 'Insult your customers, get results.' What's happening here? Sales tactic or hate crime?

Making My Day. . .

Favorite Part of the Morning (thus far): hearing a girl talk for 30 minutes about how she just can't find clothes small enough to fit her. Her boys department cargos just make her angry. 'Fat America has ruined my wardrobe!' she said.

Message to Skinny Girl: Fat America will ruin more than your wardrobe if you aren't careful. . . people hear that mumbo jumbo and you just may be their lunch!

Enough said.

Representing Our Country. . . Well!

I can't believe that I just saw what I did. . . and more over, I can't believe I am writing about it but it was too funny not to blog. While I'm hanging out at home working, the WE channel is re-airing the MRS. America 2006 pageant (yeah Mrs., aka married and old, but you wouldn't know that looking at them). You would think that these older women would have some extra insight into life and that maybe, just maybe, the top six wouldn't give such idiotic answers to their final question? FALSE. They are idiots and it was the biggest train wreck I have seen in years. Here's a recap of the final 10 gut busting minutes:

1. Largest scandal of the night, once Mrs. Georgia found out she didn't make the top six, she announces she's actually pregnant. . . gasp! She fooled everyone. . . oh no! Soap opera drama I tell you.

2. There are six finalists because the loosing contestants get to vote one woman back into the finals. Is this Survivor? Nope, it's a pageant. If you loose, you loose. End of story.

3. Mrs. North Carolina was the proud recipient of the 'extra life' and made her way back into the finals. There was, however, what can now only be referred to as a 'Faith Hill Moment' as the camera showed backstage. Comments were heard from the 'looser' contestants like 'What?' and 'How did that happen?' and one girl even asked 'Notice that everyone that voted for her didn't even MAKE the top 12?' Holy crap? Who says that stuff? Cat fight!!!!!

4. Mrs. Utah made the finals. Has a Miss, Mrs, Little Miss, Grandma, anything Utah ever made it to the finals of any pageant ever? Nope. Most people don't even know that we are a state. She was actually picked to win by the other contestants but in true fashion, she didn't. Second runner up.

5. Question: 'Mrs. Nebraska, what is something about you that would surprise us?' Answer: 'Probably that I grew up on a farm and that my dad was a farmer. . obviously.' Really, there are farms in Nebraska? That is shocking! My world is totally turned around. In addition, the word 'obviously' should probably not be used in an answer to a question about surprises. Am I wrong about that? Fifth runner up. . . really, again, shocker!

6. Question: 'Define success.' Answer from Mrs. Arizona: 'Sussess is. . .' yes, I spelled it like it came out. BTW, winner!

7. Question: 'Describe yourself." Answer from Louisiana: 'Service, liberty, blah, blah, blah. . .OUR YOUTH ARE FAILING! We need to be better examples and get them out of drug-induced. . ." wow, don't hold back. Did you really want a question about either drugs or the youth in our community because I think that's what you planned on!

Needless to say, I almost wet myself laughing. It was so great. . . worth the tivo if you can find it. I haven't felt this smart in a really long time! Where do they find these people? I guess Arizona found the 'sussess' she was looking for!

Original Prankster

Ok, I'm a total nerd. BUT, I love Dwight so much that I can't help but add this one for your viewing pleasure.
Natalie, props for sending me the original video because this is the greatest thing ever. Problem: Productivity just dropped 100 points!

I Believe In a Thing Called Love

You Tube has some incredible "Office" music videos, but I think this could be my favorite. I LOVE "The Office".

Is It Exercise?

Again, why do I continue to post about the gym? Maybe it's because that's where I spend a pathetic 1/3 of my free time? Just when you think it can't get worse, the dreaded "beast" is reintroduced. . .
Rather than continue down this path of discussing my distaste for "The Beast", I'd like to chat about another "exercise" that I did at the gym for only the third time in history.
I had this crazy thought at about 6:00 last night: "It's been a while, maybe I should go and take that yoga class again at the gym. . ." FALSE. I should NOT go and take that yoga class at the gym, no matter how long it has been. There, it is documented. Maybe I'll remember next time.
In hopes of eliminating a seriously emotional rant about this topic, I decided to make a list of why I hate yoga (this primarily stems from the fact that I am really horrible at it. In fact, I might just make a t-shirt that says "I suck at Yoga". Everyone else was doing 'downward facing dog' and I was doing 'pathetic puppy'. However, I know it's the 'trendy' thing so for you yoga lovers that are reading, I apologize but for the time being, go find your chi somewhere else). Here we go. . .
Problems with Yoga:
1. No shoes OR socks. Not only is it ridiculous that you can't wear shoes while you 'exercise', but you can't wear socks either and that's just gross. . . especially when you just saw that guy in the gym running on the treadmill. please keep your sweaty feet covered. (Side note, if you need a quick foot fact about how much your feet actually DO sweat, check in with Matthew).
2. "It's all about breathing" is a hoax. It's not all about breathing. Life is about breathing - that's how you survive. Yoga is about stretching and balancing and twisting and looking like a total idiot in a room of flexible people.
3. Old people are better at yoga than most people. Any activity where the elderly can outperform most people (yoga) or children can be intimidating (snowboarding, ice skating) is completely off limits for me. I don't like being scared by either end of the spectrum.
4. What did she say? Yoga titles are not english or anything even understandable. In fact, the teacher made a joke about us being able to speak 'script' to which everyone else chuckled like it was an inside joke that only yoga master's would get (ok, I admit it - I laughed to so that I would fit in. I didn't get it, but I laughed. You know, that 'I'm totally out of place' laugh. . . )
5. It's totally relaxing. Again, FALSE. It is not relaxing. It's actually pretty uncomfortable when you are trying to "find your center" or whatever. The only part that was mildly relaxing was the end when we just layed there. Everything in the middle was a horrible mess. . . pushing and pulling and straps and blocks. I was SWEATING! What ever happened to breathing?

The list could go on but I will end here. I know you are thinking that this couldn't possibly be as bad as I say, but it was and if you don't believe me, you try pulling your foot to the back of your head and tell me how 'relaxed' you are. What a joke.

A Common Problem

Issue: Sitting down to eat directly underneath a television mounted on the wall of a restaurant.
Why? Maybe because the guy sitting across the room eating his burger either appears as though he is gawking at YOU while you eat your meal when he is really watching ESPN (creepy, I know) or is so enthrawled in the game that he forgets one or both of the following: 1. You can't let your mouth hang open after a spectacular play when there is food in said mouth or 2. You can't jabber with your friends or yell at the officials with (again) food in your mouth. Both of these maneuvers may be acceptable on your couch at home but they are NOT ok in a public restaurant. Man, it got weird.

A Tangled Web. . .

This just in. . . ok, really, this is like two days old and could qualify as the least shocking news I have read all week but it's still worth a comment!

Headline: Spears upbeat after filing for divorce

What? Britt and K-Fed didn't make it? What's the world coming to when a solid relationship like that can't survive the toils and troubles of Hollywood? I really thought they were so grounded. . . TIMEOUT. What I really meant to say is 'What took you so long? You married an imbred Jed who likes to rap. Have SOME standards. . .Sick.'

At least she's coming down from all that fame and exposure she got being married to a superstar like K-Fed and can enjoy the simple things again . . .

Dressing Down

I was at the gym tonight about to battle 'The Beast' (that's the endearing term for the most gosh awful stair climber on the face of the earth) and decided to do a quick run-through of the stash of trashy magazines before I climbed my way to misery. As I was reading through the regulars (US Weekly, People, etc.), I had a premonition. . . the stars in these magazines look like crap!
Not that I have a lot to compare to. . . afterall, I am the one who needs to spend about six years on a stair climber before I am even in the same hemisphere of shape as these women. But seriously, how is it that these magazine photographers manage to catch stars when they look their absolute worst? We aren't just talking 'I left my house without mascara' bad either. We are talking 'I decided not to bathe or brush my hair or change clothes between movies' bad and for some stars, that's a ridiculously long time!
Then, it came to me. There is an old saying : Any publicity is good publicity. So, how do struggling stars make the first 10 pages of any magazine? There is only one surefire way. They go out in public dressed like a homeless person! I'm not just talking 'dressing down' either. I'm talking really, really sick it up.
Because it amused me, I'm going to share a few favorites with you straight from one of the classiest magazines I know (no, not the National Inquirer). Forbes Magazine did an actual slideshow on 'Overexposed Celebrities' which, oddly enough, happen to be some of the worst dressed people that I have ever seen (point about publicity proven, huh?): http://www.forbes.com/2006/10/04/tech-media_cx_lr_100406_celeb_slide.html?thisSpeed=12000

My favorite from the show:
Pamela's mangled face! It's awsomely sick. Somebody get that woman a chisel.

Moral of the story: If you are ever in Beverly Hills, oversized furry boots with cutoffs, a t-shirt and a beanie are not just for Arkansas anymore. Sport 'em on Rodeo and I'll see you in US Magazine.

My New Arch-Nemesis. . .

On occasion, I like to stop and get a cup of hot chocolate on the way to work. Nothing too crazy or out of the ordinary but it's an indulgence, none-the-less. This morning, I went against my better judgement and changed things up a bit - rather than making my way to the local Einstein's to get me my chocolate fix, I stopped at the new Starbuck's near my house to partake of their mouth-scalding blend. Who knew what I was getting into. . .
I figured that it was common knowledge (at least at a store whos main income is hot drinks) that lids on hot drinks are not meant to contain the liquid. . .really. They are meant to slow the flow when sipping a hot beverage so only parts of your mouth are burned to no feeling rather than your whole face being scalded when you hit a bump in the road and drink 'sloshing' occurs. Everyone knows this technique. . . which is why when you see people filling up styrofoam cups at the gas station, they freak out if the machine keeps dispensing up to the very top of the cup! Nobody wants hot liquid near the brim of the cup because they know the dire consequences of getting greedy with hot drinks - you WILL get burned.
Anyway, apparently the new guy (I am giving him the benefit of the doubt by assuming that he's new - otherwise, I should call him the idiot of the month and, btw, the inspiration for the title of this blog) at this particular establishment had not been trained in the art of 'stopping short'; he filled that cup right up to the brim and snapped the lid on. Me, in all of my wisdom, should have listened to that little voice in my head that said 'Carlee, I don't care how talented you think you are. If you leave this Starbucks with that hot chocolate as full as it is, you'll be wearing it by the time you get to work.' Needless to say, I didn't listen.

This is the part where I plug my favorite item of the day - today's blog is brought to you by the Tide 'To Go' stick. Frankly, every person should keep one in their purse/car/pocket at all times. It pretty much works on everything. . . even hot chocolate!

Gel makes great things happen.

I just got called a 'Sex Kitten' by one of the most flamboyant men I know! Must be the curly hair. . .I LOVE today!

Chalk Another One Up!

Tonight was our final regular season volleyball game (yuck it up kids. . . yes, short girls can play volleyball too!) and it was madness. We played this team of Amazon women that hit the volleyball like it was their kid that hadn't cleaned their room. Anyway, we had five people to try and battle off the long-term effects of steroids which, come to find out, do include getting a really bad attitude. We, my friends, were NOT successful.
The point of this blog isn't that we lost (which I am actually becoming pretty accustomed to after this year's winning softball season as well) or the fact that my knees look like I just crawled to Kaysville and back. The point is that I really, really hate loosing to people with bad attitudes. Have you ever noticed that? Loosing is bad enough but loosing to inconsiderate jerks does something to your insides. . . it ignites rage that burns like the fire of 1,000 suns. Descriptive enough? I think so. . .
Anyway, I sometimes wonder what happened to these people in their childhood that made them not ever grow up - I always thought you grew out of tattling, tantrums and name calling but I was wrong. Better yet, I weep for the future generations of athletes that have these idiots as parents. You know the type - that parent on the front row at the basketball game that yells obscenities at the opposing team. They usually choose really articulate things too like 'Cheater!' or 'Jerk' or 'Dumba#$!' and then they sit there and look confused as to why the opposing team (composed of 5-7 year old Jr Jazz hopefulls) is confused and mildly nervous about 'that one kid's dad'.
I love sports and really, all competition, as much as the next person but the question I pose is this: Is recreation ________ (fill in the blank with any given sport. . now I'm getting interactive with my readers!) really worth sacrificing your dignity? I say no. . . that is unless you are sure you can actually win the fight in the parking lot!

Hot Pocket. . .

Hot Pocket!!

I just ate a pop tart filled with nasty meat. . . some might call it a lean pocket and it was boiling lava hot. Everything will, in fact, taste like rubber for a month!

My Reality!

Last night I got home and cranked on the DVR (as is overly typical on a Sunday night in Carlee-land) to check out all of the fabulous things that I've had recording over the last week. (Just as a side note, thanks to Steph and Linds for plugging the TIVO enough to make me spend the money - so stinkin' worth it!!) I always seem to rationalize not getting to bed at a decent hour by telling myself that if I don't catch up on the latest telelvision programming, I'll be a total outcast at work. Hmmm, maybe my thoughts about work being a popularity contest are what should be in question here? Who knows.
Anyway, as I was sifting through the array of garbage that has been saved for my late-night viewing, I noticed a completely unhealthy trend. . ."The Office - 8 episodes" (shocker), "Grey's Anatomy - 9 episodes" (also a huge shocker), Reality Show, Reality Show, Reality Show, Half of a Reality Show (No, I don't want to talk about it! I hate forgetting to check the prioritizer. That's twice I've come in or dropped off part way through a program. Gooo!). I am admitting it right now, I'm addicted to reality tv.
I don't really know what it is about reality television that can totally twist a person's mind into thinking that the world is a better place because we can see the Real World cast battle it out against the Road Rulers, but it does! I can't get enough of it. While I haven't reached the point of no return - that area when a reality show is actually your favorite television program (MTV has some serious ground to make up if they are ever going to overtake The Office and Grey's), I still have an unhealthy obsession. So, in hopes of getting other people addicted to this madness (yeah, it's like I'm a meth dealer or something, but way less harmful. . . I hope), or getting enough ridicule to make me stop watching, here's my top 3:

Real World/Road Rules: The Duel: We are only like 4 weeks into this and one girl has already been sent home for punching another girl in the face!! How great is that? Combine good looking idiots, Brazil, roller derbies and fab prizes and you get one crazy fiasco.
The Amazing Race: Remember when I said 1/2 a reality show? This is it and I was so angry! Luckily, it was the later half that I got to see so that was at least positive. The hicks from Kentucky (who could be the most white trash people I have ever seen) avoided elimination for the second time in the game. Combine teams with titles like 'Beauty Queens', 'Models' (they are guys who are also former drug addicts), and 'Girl with one leg' (ok, her team already lost, but it was for effect), you get one heck of a show on Sunday night!
Unwrapping Macy's: Laugh if you want but the dorky business side of me loves watching the inner workings of the largest department store in the world. Every thing from window designing to coming out with new fall lines - it's pretty impressive really. Oh, if I could only work for a store where Diddy makes a regular appearance. . .

Any and all reality show suggestions are totally welcome. Afterall, that's what the DVR was made for! I can watch them next Sunday so that I can form My Reality!

Football really isn't so bad!

We've spent the weekend attempting to get into the Halloween spirit by doing all of the prototypical halloween activities (yeah, if you thought I was well out of high school, you'd be correct) like haunted houses, ghost tours and football games. . .yes, I said football games. I know it doesn't seem like it really doesn't have much to do with traditional Halloween but I have come to accept the fact that all holidays between September and February are really an excuse to watch football so I thought I would include it in my reporting of weekend festivities!
I did, in fact, attend my first college football game ever. I know it seems like someone who drives around with a virtual Gart Sports in the trunk of their car would have attended (on multiple occasions) a college football game, but I haven't. Exception: I did in fact attend my first college football game about a month ago but I spent the entire time gathering umbrellas from usnsuspecting fans (working security is not all it's cracked up to be).
Anyway, the U tore UNLV apart today in my first football game as a spectator. I loved it. Despite the fact I graduated from a different university (the glorified high school located in beutifull downtown Ogden), I found myself really getting into it today - even to the point of cheering with the rest of the red-shirted crazies in SLC. Maybe I'll get on the bandwagon. . . hey, it worked the same for me and the Yankees! Maybe football really isn't so bad. . .

I can't believe I did it!

SO, all I hear about is this blogging craze and I have to admit, I've been completely entertained by people's abilities with the written word - so here's my crack at it (like I can even compare). Maybe the lack of talent will be amusing in and of itself? What was I thinking?