Monday, February 22, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Do you ever go to IKEA and walk in with the intent to purchase, I don’t know, perhaps a towel and walk out three hours later with two bookshelves, a storage shelf, and a chair?
And because of all the excitement, and your manly desire to assemble pressed wood furniture you walk out to your car only to discover, to your shock that you own a Honda Civic, and not a one ton Ford pickup, which you would actually need to haul all your boxed furniture back to your house.
These are the story problems they should be teaching your children in school, not the ones about a train leaving New York. “If your Civic is 12 feet long, and you are trying to put an IKEA box that is 17 feet long in your trunk. How much of your IKEA box will be dangling out of the back of your car?”
They say that necessity is the mother of invention so I sat on my pile of boxes to figure out a way to get all my long, weighty boxes into my Civic.
I figured I could hold all my purchases with one hand on the roof, and shift and steer with my other hand. I don’t want to brag friends but I am huge, and this wouldn’t be a problem for someone with my muscular arms.
However, I do live a good 30 minutes from the IKEA, and going 60 mph around some of those corners may cause some IKEA boxes to go flying off my roof and into someone’s bay window. And that would not be good, mostly for me, but also for that window.
As I was now laying down on my pile of boxes in the middle of the IKEA parking lot I saw a homeless man sitting out by the street and considered recruiting him for some help. If he could lie on top of my purchases and then lace his arms and legs through my back and front windows. I think that would hold friends. And in my mind’s eye, I could see him having a great time. He would more than likely be saying “Wheeee” all the way to my house. Much like you would do on an amusement park ride.
But friends let’s be real, one tap of my breaks, and that man is going flyin’. Am I right?
So feeling somewhat defeated, I did the walk of shame back into the IKEA to return a few things, well everything really. No matter how good you are at Tetris it really doesn’t prepare you for fitting IKEA boxes into your Civic.
The Customer Service rep was very understanding and didn’t pass judgment. He told me I wasn’t the first person to think their trunk space was bigger than they thought.
I was so glad he told me because as I approached the counter I was ready to share with him that I had AOR…Adult Onset Retardation. Thank goodness I can save that excuse for another day.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Do you ever wonder what the correct response is when the janitor pops their head into the bathroom and says, “hello”?
I always just give a reciprocal “hello” as loud as I can, but is there more that I could be doing as a patron of the restroom to make her feel more appreciated in such an awkward communiqué. It’s hard to say.
There must be some formal and nice way of communicating that you are busy and you don’t want her to come in for at least…I don’t know…another30 minutes, but I am not sure how to communicate that without sounded a little put out and flustered.
The question arose today and I wasn’t sure what she wanted from me as far as information goes. Does she want to know how many of us there are in the bathroom, how long we are going to take, and if we need any extra supplies?
The pressure of just knowing someone is out there waiting for me to finish up is a little nerve racking, am I right? And the fact the she will greet me as I am leaving with judgmental eyes that seem to say, “I know what you did in there and if it’s a mess I will be very disappointed in you."
Friends, if any of you have suggestions on what the correct, polite response is, please let me know.
We may have to make an emergency call to Ann Landers, because I am not sure what to do in such a delicate situation.
Monday, February 8, 2010
So one day at church I volunteered for what I thought would be a one day stint leading the music during Priesthood. But now it has turned into, what I would like to call, and "un-sustained calling". Where you do all the work but don't get any of the perks. Like getting your name in the program.
Let me pause here to say that my parents taught me some simple strategies for leading music, let me emphasize the word “simple”. They taught me that whenever you lead you have two choices, you either draw a sail boat with your hand or a triangle, and that will help you if the time signature is 3/3 time or 4/4. Sooo simple.
So as an adult I have followed that strategy and I have had much success because in Priesthood meeting we only sing one of two songs. Either it’s “Ye Elders of Israel” or “High on a Mountain Top”, which I have mastered with my leading skills because they are both in 3/3 and 4/4 time.
So yesterday they asked me to lead and I didn’t happen to look at the song we were singing before I got up, which was a huge mistake.
So as we started the song all was well, and then all of a sudden once we hit the chorus it went into a 9/12 or 9/72 time signature, and I was like…What in the what?
So right away, I am way off and everyone was looking at me like I don’t know what I was doing, because I didn’t, but I couldn’t let them know that, so I just started flapping my arm vigorously, but that wasn’t helping, because I was still off the beat.
And then I thought back to how my parents taught me how to lead music by drawing pictures. So I started drawing with my waving hands.
I started with some nice seascapes and then with much panic transitioned very nicely into some cresting mountains, hoping that with some luck, I might find away to get on beat. But what I found is that peoples heads were following my hand so well that their heads were going up and down, and all around because, bless them, they were such good followers. I am afraid I may have caused a concussion when two older brethren knocked heads and then slid off their pew.
Finally around the fourth verse, I started to write, with my out of control arm “H-E-L-P M-E!”
It was just a whole lot of ugly going on up there, and that just isn’t a good color on me. So, mid-song, I just sat down because sometimes at church we are told to stretch ourselves, but what happens when you stretch so far you break… and then you break good members in your congregation? It’s hard to say…
Monday, February 1, 2010
Don’t you wish you could be better? That your heart would be pure and you would only think good about others and their efforts.
I think this way everytime anyone is church says, “Brothers and Sisters we must go out and do our duty” (or doodie as I interpret it), and I have to excuse myself from the meeting because I am about to burst with laughter.
Or when someone is giving their heart and soul to a musical number in church that has taken a bad turn, and you know that if any one so much as looks at you, you are going to laugh all over the place.
I long for the day when I will see the world with a pure heart and will be able to sit through bad musical numbers without judgment and/or laughter. When I will see people for their good hearts and not their tacky outfits and bad hair cuts. Someday, somewhere I’ll find a new way of living….
But for now, I will just keep trying to hold it in.
Brothers and Sister I will go out and do my duty! (he he)