Holiday... Inn?

Well I just got back from what seemed to be an eternity of traveling. The first week I was in Colorado, and the second week I was in Alabama. After the past two weeks' worth of experiences flying and at airports, I'm pretty much content to never fly again.
Well, I know that's not going to happen. So I just know for at least the next few months, I won't be getting on a plane.
Instead of dwelling on the negatives of 2 airports closing while I was at them, and of 4 or 5 delayed flights, etc., I'm choosing to concentrate on a particular story that makes me all toasty inside... :-)
I was supposed to come home on Tuesday night. Well, due to the Chicago airport closing, I was rerouted to Las Vegas (because there were NO more flights to Salt Lake... even on any other airlines.. crazy). This certain flight was landing in Nashville, where I'd have another layover before Las Vegas. At anyrate, I was flying Southwest were you can pick wherever you want to sit (well, 'wherever you want' meaning almost anywhere, because the front row and the exit rows are always taken...). I chose a seat and was getting settled when a man sitting in front of me was asking the flight attendant some questions about the Las Vegas connection flight. I interjected "OH, are you going to Las Vegas, too??". The man said "oh no, but this lady next to me is, and she's deaf and seems really confused"...
I exclaim: SHE'S DEAF?!?!?!? Omg! I know Sign Langauge!
What are the chances that of all the seats on that plane, I chose to sit right behind this woman who was completely lost.
A complete "WOAH" moment.
Come to find out after chatting with her that she was 32, and had never left Birmingham, AL in her life. This was her first plane ride. How scary!! I get scared flying on planes, even though I have flown HUNDREDS of times, and... I can HEAR!
This lady's name was Michelle, and on the connection flight in Nashville we sat by each other and had a GREAT time. Almost couldn't tell that it was a 5 hour flight!
During the flight, she orderd THREE Jack and Cokes. She would look at me and say she was worried that she looked like an alcoholic. I said No, that she just looked like a nervous flyer. :-)
I asked where she was staying in Las Vegas, and she told me the Venetian. Well, kind of. She couldn't remember the name, but something about Venice and that they had Gondolas... Here comes the other "WOAH" moment. Out of all the tens of thousands of hotels and motels in Las Vegas, there is one that I have a friend that works at as a security guard. Which hotel would that be? Oh, that's right. The Venetian. The only hotel that I had a hook-up that I could call to help out this tired, nervous, and very DRUNK deaf woman. What are the chances??
When I think about the delays and cancellations over the past couple days I start to get a little worked up, but then I think about this lady Michelle, and I don't mean to sound preachy here or anything, but I KNOW I was supposed to meet her and help her, and all the drama with the airlines didn't matter, and that drama is actually what made me meet her.
Merry Freakin Christmas, eh??!

The name's Bond... Meg Bond...

So I was naughty today.
I took an extraordinarily long lunch, and went down to the Gateway and slipped into a matinee showing of Quantum of Solace.
Hola!!
Can I just say that Daniel Craig can just come visit me anytime in that sexy Astin Martin???
I am having an internal struggle right now as to which Bond I'd rather marry... I've been watching the older and newer ones, and I've narrowed it down to either Daniel Craig or Timothy Dalton. HELLO!! I do feel gypped that Timothy only made 2. I hope Daniel doesn't suffer the same fate.
So to celebrate, I'm putting up a new survey, to vote which Bond you like the most...
Bon Apetit!

Yes, I love technology

Of all the inventions over the last... millennium... I cannot even fathom my life without the discovery of the internet.
Some people fear that all that info at your fingertips may be iatrogenic for society (absolute power corrupts?), due to "racy pictures", or what have you. (FYI- I learned the word "Iatrogenic" in a psychology class many years ago. It basically means in a medical field that the treatment did more harm than good, and that the status quo would have been better off without it)...
But I don't care.
Over the last week, my life has been infinitely improved by the world-wide web.
Recently I've been on this vintage kick. I've made a new vintage-inspired dress, I've been listening to the best of Benny Goodman, Duke Ellington, and Elle Fitzgerald. And last Sunday I got the idea to try out some vintage hairstyles. So, I saddled up to my friendly little laptop, typed in some words, and VOILA!... Hundreds of how-to hairstyle videos. SO FUN!
Then, I decide that for the first time in my life, I want to try wearing "REAL" make-up... not just the liner and mascara I buy at the check-out stand at the grocery store. So I get foundation and bronzer, and some eye shadow... and one of those crazy eyelash curler things... Anyway, saddle up again and type a few more words, and PRESTO! I'm almost a pro...
But the most recent web-investigation I will be eternally grateful for. For my brother's wedding last year, I bought the most splendid blouse from Arden B to wear. Yes, I splurged on it. But it was worth it. It looked AMAZING! Well, a few months ago, I wore it an got honestly WHO KNOWS WHAT on it. Something maybe chocolate or blood... No Clue. So I take it to a dry cleaner (it's rayon) and they cannot save my shirt. I actually almost shed a tear thinking about having to be rid of my shirt. But before I could say Adeu, I had to give it one last shot. So I rolled up my proverbial sleeves and saddled up one more time. I swear I didn't do as much research on any of my college papers as I did trying to figure out how to get this stain out of a rayon blouse. I tried a concoction of things that still didn't work. And then I stumbled upon one site that said that it might be a "dye stain", and that I'd have to treat it with bleach. I was so nervous. It said to try a little bleach on an inside seam and see if it altered the color. If it didn't, the garment was color-fast (or whatever. I can't remember anymore), and that it was safe to use on the stain. Well HALLE-FREAKIN'-LUJA, I was able to rub some bleach on the stain and after a few minutes of setting, the stain was gone!! I literally danced around my apartment for a good 10 minutes celebrating the resurrection of a most prized blouse.
Thank you, thank you, Technology.

A perpl-EGGS-ing Conundrum

Saturday morning I woke up feeling a little more vibrant than having just my normal couple bowls of cereal for breakfast.

I decided I was going to scramble some eggs.

(Now I am begging for anyone to add any insight whatsoever to the following situation...)

I grab the egg carton out of my midget-size fridge. Open it up and crack the first egg. Looks delicious. Can't wait to cook it.

Grab the second egg and crack it. I crack it. Crack Crack CRACK it. Um. It won't crack. ? I had to peel the shell off. The egg was entirely frozen.

Has anyone in their entire life seen a frozen egg?

So not only did the perplexity of the frozen egg confound me, but then I thought: What's wrong with that one? Why did only that ONE freeze, and not the egg EXACTLY next to it freeze too?

It's not like they were in different fridges or even different cartons.

Is my wussy little half-pint fridge SO non-conducive that it can't even keep eggs decently?

Here's an arial view for your viewing pleasure:

And yes, I did eat it. I didn't care. I'm poor. I figured (hoped) that just the trans-morphing of the egg's property of matter wouldn't compromise the nutritive integrity of it...

Kwik Sew?

Since moving out on my own, I've found my brain deteriorating with lack of conversations and stimulations. Given, it's exactly 2 months till I start grad school and will definitely be OVERstimulated...

At any rate, I decided to fill my time with more productive things than watching every episode available of Family Guy and Cash Cab.

So I decided I'm going to make a new dress.

Supposedly it should be fairly easy. I chose a dress that has no zippers or things like that. It just has one button-up keyhole in the back. I've cut out the pattern and will start sewing tomorrow... Definitely let ya know how progress goes...
Here's what it should look like:^

More memories of Grandma

Ok this is mainly for family. But I wanted to set up a list that you could add comments to of your own memories of grandma.

I'll start:

• "Reddy Kilowatt" lightning bolt men
• Popsicle lights
• Robin eggs in the living room
• Smarties in grandma's underwear drawer
• Sparkly ceilings
• SCARY stuffed animals in the downstairs bedroom
• Petrified Wood
• Butterfly fridge magnets

List some more!

LESSONS LEARNED FROM GRANDMA

Upon publishing my post yesterday, it sparked a memory that my sister, Nancy, had written one of the best memoirs of my grandma. She wrote it in one sitting like it was nothing, but it makes me cry everytime I read it. I asked her if it'd be ok if I could post it here. I modified some statements to past-tense, as she is no longer with us.

• Lessons Learned from Grandma


• by Nancy Breinholt
  
  If you don’t like something, change it. If your name is Alice LaDean, go by LaDean, but add an e on the end, to make it more feminine. LaDeane.
  
  I learned the sanctity and power of prayer from my Grandma. Every time she was asked to say grace, she would say it in a very soft voice, and cry about 80% of the time. It isn’t something to be mumbled and raced through.
  
  When you are threading a worm on the hook, use a towel to hold the worm still, that way it won’t wiggle free. And, always have a pair of pliers on the boat, so you can knock a Chub on the head with them.
  
  There are amazing things to be read in books. Always have books by your chairs, by your bed, and in the bathroom. Don’t let a day go by without cracking open a book.
  
  I learned to love the outdoors. My grandma was an outdoorsman, when women were not outdoorsman. She had her own hunting rifle and her own fishing pole, and didn’t need a man to fix either of them.
  
  She taught me about magical things, like galindies, and vitamin E.
  
  Don’t fight with your brother about mowing the lawn, someone will lose a finger. However, if you do happen to lose a finger, don’t forget to ask your manicurist for 10% off when she does your nails.
  
  When the grandchildren are over, a great treat is jello powder.
  
  I learned from Grandma that if the fish weren’t biting, I wasn’t holding my mouth right. If I still couldn’t hold my mouth right, she would put some “magic” on the line. And be damned if it didn’t work.
  
  You put meat tenderizer on mosquito bites, aspirin on bee stings, a paper towel in your bag of lettuce, dishwashing liquid on your vegetables, vitamin C for colds, and vitamin E for scars.
  
  She taught me how to play cards, and almost more importantly, to take no prisoners when we are playing card games! If someone offers to deal you in, take it, and then take them to the cleaners.
  
  You have to be on the lake before sunrise if you want to catch any fish.
  
  My Grandma has inspired in me a love of my home state. She had been everywhere in Utah, and had seen more things than most. I always asked her about places in Utah, and she had always been there, but about 50 years ago, before it was “cool” to go to these places, and also before it had become “illegal” to go to them now.
  
  If you save up enough plastic grocery bags, you can make a purse out of them.
  
  I also learned that if I am going to get a trophy to place my “Hole in One” balls, I need to make sure there are more than 3 places to put all my balls.
  
  You put a Canadian nickel on the back of your putter to put down to mark your place on the green.
  
  Most of all, I learned what it meant to be a true companion to your spouse. Not a hand-maiden, not a servant, not a doormat. Every adventure grandpa had, grandma was there every step of the way. But when something was important to her, but grandpa refused to go, she was not afraid to go alone. She cared for grandpa greatly and without complaint, but could be a firecracker when it was necessary. Love filled every action grandma took, and when Truman asks what she was like, these are a few things I hope to pass on.

A Lesson on Femininity

Memorial Day is normally not an uplifting holiday for me. It makes me sad to think of the people I've know that have died. Makes me VERY sad.
But I realized that I have to snap out of a depress-mode like that. You can't just pop a Zoloft everytime you think about a person, ya know?
So I decided that every time I get sad about losing a loved-one, I have got to stop and think of the great memories these people have left me with.
I'm speaking most specifically of my Grandma Henrichsen, Miss Alice LaDeane.
Last night I went out to my parents house to raid their fridge for the free dang-good left-over food from Memorial Day's Festivities. After dinner, my mom wanted to go to Penny's to look at their "70% off" sale for custom blinds (she's redoing her kitchen... again). So we packed our purses with money and a Spanish/English dictionary (kidding) and headed off to Valley Fair Mall. Once there, we asked a sales lady about the blinds. She said she'd have to get their "expert" to answer our questions. When the Expert came out and sat at the computer, I noticed that her name tag, very surprisingly, sported the name "La Dean".
My grandma is the only other person in the world I know whose name was La Dean. So I told that to this sales lady. Of course saying my grandma's name no longer brings sadness, but automatically brings the fondness of hilarious memories.
So I noted:
Although my grandma's first name was Alice, she went by La Dean. But she didn't just go by La Dean. Although that's how it's spelled on her birth certificate and any other official document, unofficially she added an "e" at the end of her name, for "La Deane", because, she claimed, it made it more feminine.

Guff

Every now and then an innocent bystander gets caught up in one of my meaningless rants.
This is a.k.a. my guff.
It is nonsense airy matter that doesn't mean anything to anyone but me. It's a soliloquy of sorts, mainly gripes, that once spewed from my brain, I roll it up in a ball, and throw it in my proverbial drawer, usually never to be brought up again.

Guff for the day:
Today I was running short of time on my lunch break so I stopped at the KFC drive-thru and ordered one of my favorites of all time.
The KFC Kid's Laptop meal.
The Laptop Meal is one of the most exquisite of all children-sized fast food meals. It doesn't come in a regular cardboard cube or a measly bag. Oh no. It is a cardboard laptop. You open the lid, and instead of finding keys and a screen, you find your meal, and entertaining trivia and activities where the screen would be on a normal laptop.
Besides the sheer pleasantness of the aesthetics, the meal itself was perfect. For a mere $2.99, you could get a drink, two tender chicken strips, your choice of a side (normally potato wedges or mashed potatoes), a dessert of some kind (a jello cup, fruit roll-up, etc), AND a granola bar.
Totally awesome.
So I ordered my Laptop meal and drove off. Of course being starving and in a rush, I opened my laptop while driving, and lo-and-behold... not only did they forget my fruity refreshment, they had only put ONE chicken strip in my laptop.
OH NO THEY DI'NT!
I drove around the block and pulled through the drive-thru again all the way to the "Pay Here" window. The lady, confused, opened the window with a dirty glance. I declared "You left out my fruit snack and only put one chicken strip in my laptop!" and simultaneously opened my cherished cardboard treasure to show her the evidence.
Annoyed, she states "Yah. That's all you get now."
Oh if there was one time in my life that I was so infuriated at our staggering economy, this was the day.
How dare they.

Last Night I Dreamed of San Pedro...

So I found out more than ever that Madonna knew what she was talking about. I never wanted to leave La Isla Bonita as soon as I set foot on it. My mind started racing to find things I could make or build to support myself so I could live in Belize.
Ironically, among the many things my family and I did down there (ATV Jungle Tours, Mayan Ruin expeditions, cave tubing, snorkeling with sharks and sting rays, etc.) the memories that will forever be at the forefront of my frontal lobe were just the times of laughing with my family, and waking up every morning and spending an hour in a hammock by myself, gazing over the perma- Corona commercial scenery. The most memorables of the trip cost absolutely... nada.


Not to say that doing the other activities were a waste of money... those definitely will be cherished forever, and I certainly am not getting sick at all of telling everyone everything I did. Although my throat is getting a bit coarse. I am thinking of writing it all down on a piece of paper, making some copies, and handing 'em out like flyers for 5-Buck Pizzas.




Every night I made sure to thank Grandma Henrichsen, Miss Alice LaDeane, for the wonderful experience she was able to provide for me and my family.
I will blog more later including different funny stories from the trip, but had to just post a little snippet now, letting people know I got home safe, and to show off some teaser pictures. :)

HAPPY PI DAY!

As you may or may not be aware, tomorrow, March 14th, is Pi Day. For those less enthusiastic in the science realm, a little explanation: The date tomorrow: 3/14.
Pi: 3.14.
Last year a professor and I started a department-wide celebration. I made flyers. We were going to celebrate Pi Day with STYLE!
I went down to Village Inn (called in an order in advance) and picked up 40 pies of all assortments. We had a big party in our conference room starting at noon and going till 1:59 (Pi is 3.14159). Well, sadly enough, within 35 minutes every last crumb of pie had disappeared and we still had an hour to celebrate!
(never underestimate the power of a starving student)
One of our newer and quite eccentric faculty members had made up a Pi song. Well, it's basically singing the numbers of Pi to 30 decimal places, to the tune of "America" from West Side Story. What a riot!!
THIS year, we are out-doing ourselves. We are not limiting the bounds of Pi Day to just dessert pies. Oh no. Along with 40 dessert pies we are also ordering 35 pizza pies. WHAT A PARTY! So tomorrow, we will celebrate with all our Nerd Pride. Perhaps some pictures will be posted later...

Blog tag?

I guess I got tagged... ? Who knows what that is. I'm SO not blog-savvy. Oh well. Here goes.

• Link to the person that tagged you.
• Post the rules on your blog.
• Share 6 non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
• Tag 6 random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
• Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

1. I have a built-in mood-detector to let you know how I'm feeling. It is completely uncontrolable, but I have a ginormous birthmark on my forehead. When I am stressed or frustrated it turns bright red. When I am cold it turns purple.
2. Last Thursday I literally had to lay down on my bed to get my jeans zipped up. Watch out Belize, here I come. :-(
3. Compared to all other Sudoku sites in the Universe, I find the USAToday Online's Sudoku the best. Although it's electronic, it has a feature to let you annotate numbers of possible answers in the boxes. MMMMmmmm.
4. Perhaps one of the stupidest things I hear people say, and is my greatest grammatical petpeeve, is when people say "I could care less". What they really mean to say is "I couldN'T care less". If you tell someone that there are other things you DO care less about than what they're talking about, isn't that a compliment?
5. I will not be tagging 6 other people. Not only do I not know 6 people with blogs, but I am also an advocate for The Stop to Chain-Mail or Bulk E-mails.
Yes, for all you pathetic people that forward on e-mails with pictures of babies dressed up like flowers with life-motivating stories and slogans, the buck stops here.
6. Every night since 9-11 I have watched Sabrina (the newer version with Harrison Ford) while going to sleep. When you quote a movie, people say something about "Oh, seen this movie a couple times before?" and everyone has a quick laugh.
No, in all reality, I have infact seen this movie nearing 1,000 times.

Am i done yet??

A FAIR WARNING

Be wary of men who use "lol" in daily communication; beit e-mail, texting, or verbally.
Don't say I didn't warn you.

Kids Say the Darnedest Things

Every week or so, I get to take my neice and nephew to lunch. More specificly, to the "Fry Store". My nephew loves fries. I think he thinks they are their own food group.
I just got back from lunch with the chill'ens, and it was a great time as always. This specific fry store is very friendly when we go. When the kids are done with their meals, someone always comes and asks if the kids would like Courtesy Cones. Oh heck yah. Who can say no to free icecream?
At any rate, the Fry store we went to today was kind of on the scetchy side of town. Run-down houses, midget-prostitutes, boarded up windows... you know the place I'm talkin about. Along with the scetchy location of the store, was the scetchy employees. I'm not saying anything about their character at all, just their appearances. Hydrogen Peroxide blonde skunk hair, leathered and sunken drug-enduced faces. All very nice. At the end of our meal today came a friendly lady to ask us if we wanted our Courtesy Cones. I should note that my nickname for this lady, politically incorrectly, is Snaggletooth McWolfenfang. ... Nuf said.
After she turned around from so sweetly giving us our free icecream, my three-year-old nephew says at the top of his lungs, "WHY COME DAT LADY HAVE BROKEN TEETH?"

BATMAN RETURNS!

As a post-log to my previous post regarding my supervisor the swindler:

I called HR to ask what I should do about the situation. They told me the proper chain of command to follow, and I confided in the Chair of the Department. He was oddly very excited because they were looking to make paperwork against her (she's not the most cheery person).
They all had a meeting and the chair confronted her about her payroll reporting. She snapped. She screamed that it was none of my business and was saying that she wanted to file a grievance against me. The chair declined, nicely stating that she was crazy, and also noting the guilty behavior. Given, if someone came to me and said "We're suspiscious of your timecard reporting, so we're just going to look in to it a little", I would feel hurt, but not in denial. Fine with me. I'm honest, so you can look, but you won't find any discrepancies. Quite the opposite statement when you scream and try to put the blame and focus on an innocent by-looker.
At any rate, after a few days of meetings and meetings and meetings, they have revoked all of her managerial duties, rights, privileges, etc., and have put those responsibilities on a different staff member. She is now required to document every hour she is not in the office, the reason, and how she is going to make it up.
My new manager is a peach, but I still work in the same room as the old manager. She is very hostile to me and for the most part gives me the silent treatment. Which I really don't mind.
Since then, I have had multiple staff and faculty members coming to me and telling me how much they appreciate what i've done. I feel like Dorothy, getting swarmed by little munchkins after dropping a house on a witch.
Thanks for your support and comments friends and family!

Little People, Big... Mouth?

On Saturday I made quite a slew of mistakes. The first one was going to Costco on a Saturday. :-S The hustle and bustle drives me nearly to a full-blown panic attack.
The second mistake was entirely something to be shown on some late-night sitcom. Too bad Seinfeld isn't still around...
As I was making my way back to the frozen food section, I had to meander through the free sample tables. Most of them aren't appetizing to me at all... Clam Chowder, Vitamin suppliments, etc. But as I turned a corner, I saw a Costco man sitting at a table for those Hilshire Farms Li'l Smokies things. I love those things. I got all excited. I could feel my eyes grow wide and I made one of my happy noises. Almost too loud for a Costco on Saturday, I exclaim "I LOVE LITTLE WEINERS!!"
Almost as suddenly as I had said it, I noticed that the man sitting at the Li'l Smokies table wasn't sitting at all. He was actually standing. He was a midget.
I furiously blushed and felt terrible, hoping that the Little Man hadn't heard my audible interjection.
But then I thought, "That's not my fault! Who's idea was it to use a Little Person to promote Fun-Size entities?"

BATMAN BEGINS?

Over the past few months I have had a sneaking suspicion that one of my supervisors hasn't been completely honest on their time card reporting, namely regarding vacation hours.
So a little snooping in my databases led me to discover that this past pay period (covering the Christmas Break), she reported 7 hours vacation although she had taken an entire week and a half off.
I fear my work environment has turned into Gotham City with crooked politicians and leaders. If I try to do what's right and expose the crooks, what retaliation can the leaders have against me? Namely, can I lose my job?

Mama Jean

This is my mom number two. When I say that, people ask "Oh, is your original mother deceased?".
No. She's very much still here. It just took two mothers to raise me.