No Sweets December

And I'm serious.

I'm on a team at work for the Wellness Program. September we donated blood, October we wore pedometers and counted the number of steps we took, November we didn't drink soda, and December we're not eating sweets/treats/desserts: cookies, candy, cake, etc.

Now I know what you're thinking. Why in the world are you participating in this?! Well, I was recruited to be part of this 8-person team and we're competing against other teams. I can't let my girls down! The wellness committee comes up with the challenges, and we simply acquiesce, I suppose. I actually haven't agreed on this quite so tacitly. I wrote an email to my team captain, asking her to define "treat." Would this include pumpkin bread, cinnamon bread, muffins? We were told in response that it is "up to our own conscience." Yikes! Well my conscience is telling me that dark chocolate is a health food! The committee member then went on to say that she thinks pumpkin and cinnamon breads are okay but that cinnamon rolls are a different story.

So we researched it. Pumpkin bread. Some recipes have loads of white sugar, brown sugar, butter, cream cheese; others include applesauce as a substitute. I am all sorts of confused, so I'm not even going to hover near that line.

It was a tender mercy on Tuesday and Wednesday (the first two days of the competition) because I had a headache all day and just the thought of sugar made it worse. They served birthday cake at work on the first (my favorite! Loads of frosting on CostCo cakes. Yum.), and I wasn't even tempted! It is now the fourth day, and I'm still going strong!

You have to understand that this is my first time attempting the "no sweets" challenge. And trust me, it is one heck of a challenge. I have to admit that I have quite the sweet tooth and have been known to claim that "I need a sweet each day to keep me going." Perhaps that logic comes from the fact that my mom used to say something along the lines of "work hard, get it done, and reward yourself with a little treat afterward." By the way, this strategy absolutely worked like a charm. You better believe I worked my little tail off in college and strutted all the way to Sugar 'n' Spice in the food court at school to purchase my 75-cent treat: a maple bar, of course. Thanks for the advice, Mom. :) That's why I'm so smart and fat--just kidding on both accounts.

And on that note, here's an angel and devil quote I picked up from various women:

Devilish

"There's a thin person inside me screaming to get out, but I keep her sedated with chocolate." --I saw this on a woman's cubicle at work this week.

Angelic

"Nothing tastes as good as thin feels." --I picked this up from my roommate's wall a few months ago.

So who's with me? No Sweets December--sounds appealing, right? Okay, okay, when I fly home to Texas for Christmas I'll most likely consider breaking the rules, but if I have a little moral support . . . just think of the possibilities. We'll all have free-flowing arteries, healthy hearts, and a little easier time actually following through with those New Year's resolutions. It'll be great--I promise. You down?

A train of thought . . . starting with stock photos

In the next city over, new homes are replicating like wildfire. There's a huge sign advertising the new neighborhood, and it has a picture of this young couple; the photo actually looks like a dental advertisement.

With the image of those pearly whites burned into my memory, I just couldn't help but notice the same photo at a gas station in Colorado when I was there this summer. I can't remember what they were advertising, but it sure wasn't a home.

The same thing happened with another guy in stock photos. So the couple picture was the same in both Utah and Colorado. But have you seen this man?



The man on the left is in so many stock photos, I'm convinced! I first saw him on a billboard, advertising the new Utah Jazz Ticket Buddy promotion. I then saw him on a couple websites. It's weird (a) that I looked at that billboard so closely and (b) that I now see this guy everywhere!

These random photos took my train of thought to glamour shots (chugga chugga choo coo, right?). When I was about 6 years old, my sister Jordan and her best friend (was it Taylor?) got glamour shots. I was really confused because I didn't understand that "shots" was another way to say "photos." I imagined a little of this:



I saw the pictures later (and was really jealous, I must admit, of the blue 80's prom dress, the mounds of hairspray, the red lipstick, and the boa) and thought the glamour "nurses" had given Jordan literal "shots" to make her look like that. I stayed far away from glamour shots because the beauty was just not worth the pain!

And the train of thought made its way to the final destination of funny advertisements. About a year ago I started noticing these outlandish advertisements popping up on Yahoo! mail. I just had to start saving them so that I could, you guessed it, show these beauties to all of you.

The first ad (which I didn't save but instead found the picture on Google) shows the cure for dark circles *IN CASE YOUR EYES LOOK LIKE THIS. They're not going to sell anything!



I'm afraid to say it, but nobody walks around with black football paint underneath their eyes!

And then this is for all those girls out there who are self-conscious about their small lips.



But make sure you don't get the wrong lip plumper! The results could be mortifying.



You could say I'm observant.

'Twas a Happy Halloween

I used to dress up every Halloween when I was little. My mom would make the cutest costumes, and I couldn't wait to show them off to my friends and neighbors. I was a Spice Girl one year (although I never even liked them, but my friends did!), a genie the next, a bumble bee, pumpkin--you name it, and my mom would make it!

In college I really slacked off. I made a feeble attempt at being Deb from Napoleon Dynamite (complete with caboodle, leggings, and side ponytail), a detective, a cowboy, and an iPod commercial (you know, the all-black, dancing character with the white headphones and iPod).

Here's what I pulled off this year . . .

A cow!?



Another cowgirl?! Being from Texas, I did lasso the longhorn, albeit fake longhorn, in two attempts.



A mime, you might think. No, this is just the beginning stage. We're getting closer.



Say hello to Keiko.



Konichiwa! Acting dollish--you know, how I usually do.



Adigato! The kimono had to come off so Keiko could dance. (You can see a pedometer at my hip--proof that I counted my steps for a full month for my wellness program at work.)



I fooled a lot of people. I'd never painted my face before for Halloween, so this was a special treat. I kind of liked the stares when I danced crazy because, unlike other dances, this time I was in disguise.

Catching some serious Zzzz's

Last night I headed to bed at 10:30. I was stoked about my decision because, as of late, I have been getting about seven hours of sleep during the week. It turns out eight and a half hours of sleep doesn't do the trick; I either need around seven or eight hours, but more than that requires at least nine. Needless to say, I was oddly dragging a little more than usual today.

Anyway, that's totally off the subject. Last night my poor, poor roommate lay in bed for over three hours because she couldn't fall asleep. I felt even worse because, let's face it, I get really into my sleep and maybe saw some logs for a few minutes. But just a couple--don't worry. Melissa said I didn't do that, but I did start talking in my sleep . . . and then started whispering sweet nothings. It was garbled, so it was literally 'nothings.' Since she hadn't fallen asleep by 1:30 (my designated chatter time), she busted up laughing and proclaimed, "Katy!"

I 'woke' up. "WHAT?"

"You were talking and then you started whispering," she told me.

"Oh, that's creepy," I replied, still sleeping.

"What's creepy?" she asked.

"That I started whispering."

She proceeded to keep talking to me, but sorry Charlie, I was out like a light.

I've been thinking about how I haven't been remembering my dreams lately, and this, of all things, makes me really sad. No need to fear, though. I had one last week that I can recall!

I dreamed that I sold my little car to a friend of mine, Alison. Alison is a little Asian who I went to high school with. Her ex-boyfriend is now an aerospace engineer, which basically translates into 'genius.' As a sidenote, Alison drives really close to the steering wheel. I dreamt that she had Brady move the steering wheel to the passenger side, and it was super low to the ground (even lower than now). I think I was actually really irritated in the dream because (a) Brady moved the steering wheel to the other side of the car--we're not in Europer! and (b) I sold the car (c) at a loss! But the funny part is that as I was driving to work the next morning (luckily it was just a dream and I still had Beyonce), I thought of the dream and, like a mad woman, started laughing hysterically--to myself.

I value my sleep and I don't know that a lot of people do. Get your sleep, people! It makes for more funny stories. :) Supposedly I laugh a lot in my sleep, too, and that's good for your health, right? Oh the endless number of benefits!

Check out the poll to the side. >

Sweet dreams. :)

Company Party

A few weeks ago my company started a Rock Band competition with teams playing each week for the 3 weeks leading up to the company party at a local waterpark. I must admit that it was pretty cool getting to play Rock Band at work for 3 weeks. My Guitar Hero skills have declined slightly since I haven't really played since my roommate (fellow Guitar Hero and biggest competition) went on her mission 17 months ago.

And then it came time for the summer party. Don't worry, my team got 7th out of 9 teams--it's fine. But we did win best make-up and won $100 (yes, we dressed up at work, and I drew a star and skull-and-crossbones tattoo on my arm, complete with heavy eyeliner)!



I redeemed by prize at the party last night, which was at a local waterpark. My sister Stacy and husband Pierce came to play with me, and we had a blast! No, we did not ride the same ride nearly 10 times so that we could touch the top with our foot . . .



That's not us, obviously, but that's the ride. The first time I stretched my foot to reach the top, I said, "Ohhh! I touched it!" I was about two feet away, but I had high hopes of touching it. I never touched it. I got a brutal cramp in my foot, though that lasted for the rest of the ride.

It then came time to announce employee giveaways. Pierce said he had a feeling my name would be called--of the hundreds of employees who were there, mine was one of 35 names called. Go figure! But we couldn't just walk up and claim our prize; it was a competition. We had to stand at the top of the wave pool holding a float, and when they said "go" we had to swim to the deep end and grab a floating ball. There were only 26 of them, so no guarantee that you'd win. Well it didn't start out well when I fell in 6-inch deep water. I later asked Stacy how I fell and she said that a boy next to me ran into me, so I fell into the guy on my other side, who in turn pushed me the other way, and boom! I found myself face in the water--second to last person in the race. Embarrassing! But I was probably the third person out of the water, so I'm going to go ahead and brush my shoulders off. I ended up winning a $200 GPS! The announcer (my boss) said, "Now you have no excuse to be late to work!" I didn't hear the punchline and just started to walk off the stage and then I heard, "I don't think she heard the joke." Nope. Sorry, Dave.

I came out a winner last night. With $25, a GPS, and 2 camping chairs (the employee gift), I definitely had a good night. Oh yeah, and I got to ride water slides and eat funnel cakes and dippin' dots--all for free! I love where I work.

Oh yeah, and I'm working at the Real Salt Lake game tonight and get to go to the game for free. :) We're playing a really good team from Mexico, Club America. Here's a pic of us volunteers in our sweet outfits from the first game in April.



I'm wearing about three layers in this picture because it's still really cold in April.

Road Trips

I went on two road trips this past week--one to Rupert, Idaho and one to Seattle, Washington. This is just a heads up that I'll be posting (with pics) soon!

That they might have joy

"Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy."

I usually don't touch on religious subjects here, but since my religion is part of my every being, I had to share that scripture.

Ever since I started driving home from work today, I've been repeating this scripture over and over in my head.

I hopped in my car after work, turned on the radio, and listened to the first song on my CD: "Boys of Summer" by Don Henley. It got me pumped for summer. I rolled down my windows, turned up the music, and started cruising. A few minutes later I rolled my windows back up because it was too choppy on the freeway (thanks, Kari), and I kept on cruising. The mountains and sky were so ethereal today, and the scripture popped back into my head. "Men are, that they might have joy."

I think we get so caught up in life and somehow just end up going through the motions that we forget that the purpose of this life is to follow our Savior's example so that we can return to the presence of our Father in Heaven. While we're in this probationary state, we are to have joy. There are ups and downs, but our Father is so aware of each one of our circumstances that we have no reason to despair; he will lift us, strengthen us, and mold us how he sees fit.

I've started running for 30 minutes every other day. I'm not a runner by any means, but I figure that I don't spend enough time outside what with working eight hours each day, the hour-long commute I make to and from work, and the rest of the time being spent with friends. Last week I left work for lunch and decided not to take the freeway--I don't know my way around the area aside from the freeway, but I thought it'd be fine to get lost . . . and not stress. I went to the park and swung on the swings for half an hour while talking to a friend who lives in another state. Tonight I walked to the grassy hill on campus and lay on the grass while the sun was setting, just trying to soak up the Vitamin D.

Life isn't meant to be monotonous. We're here to learn, to read and study from the best books, to create beautiful things, to love, to grow, to lift and strengthen one another, to become our best selves. And what better place to do that than on this gorgeous green earth? I guess I'm just suggesting that one way we can escape life and enjoy the creations around us is to explore nature. One of my absolute favorite things is a Texas thunderstorm, and though I miss those, I have the picturesque mountains right outside my bedroom window, painted on a perfect light blue backdrop. You just have to smile and be happy about where you're at in life.

I understand I sound a little preachy--I'm sorry. It's always nice to think about things from an eternal perspective and to remember that sometimes all we can do is keep breathing.

"Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy."

Momma, I ain't goin to work no more

The only way I know how to get to work is via the highway. The main highway here stresses me out, though! First there was the bird incident. Now this.

But before I get to that, let me tell you a little something something about drivers here. For some reason the HOV lane is a free for all where drivers come into and leave the lane at their leisure. In less than a minute, I saw 5 cars cross the double-white lane of the HOV lane--I don't get it!

In Texas, when you see a sign that reads "Road Work Ahead; Speed limit 55; Fines Double," you usually slow down to 55. Here you drive on your merry way like the signs, crane, big concrete cylinders, and freshly painted lane lines aren't there! Can someone explain this to me?

Anyway, I'll get to the point. This morning a highway patrolman pulled in front of me on the highway, and I drove up next to a semi. Next thing I knew, I heard a POW! or BANG! or POP! and I was instantly freaked out. The first time I ever drove on the highway alone my tire blew out, so I knew that it didn't happen this morning because it wasn't the same. I think I saw metal fly this morning, and I definitely saw the rubber. The semi's tire blew out RIGHT next to me, and I drive a tiny tinker toy where the top of the car probably doesn't even reach the top of the semi's tire. My heart started racing. The highway patrolman pulled over, so I followed suit, and the semi pulled behind me. We assessed the damage, and nothing had happened to my car that we could see--doesn't hurt to check. He said something about how it always sounds like a gunshot when that happens, and I couldn't describe it better. A gunshot right outside my window!

I'm fine and I got to work okay. The most damage I could see was the CD I broke on my way out the passenger side of my car when I pulled over to the shoulder.

Dang you, highway.

Coupl'a Things

I am just horrible at writing. Stick with me, though! I have a couple of things I've been meaning to write about lately.

I wasn't going to mention this, but I might as well. Therefore it gets to be #1/2 on the list.

1/2. I graduated (walked across the stage is more like it)

Do you see the first guy on the right with the purple robe? When I went up to shake his hand, he said something along the lines of, "Absolutely wonderful remarks. Great job!" I stood there shaking his hand, bewildered. When someone says something to me that I don't understand, I don't play along--I can't play along. I will just look at you with a puzzled look on my face, clearly letting you know that I have no idea what you're talking about. I managed to let a few words fumble out of my mouth: "Uh th-thank you . . . ?" I had breakfast with him the day before, so I thought he was talking about that, but I still had no idea what he was saying. "You gave the speech today, didn't you?" "Oh! No, no, no. That wasn't me, but thank you. I would have done a great job, too, if I had given the address, so you're very close." I didn't really say that last part.

That, my friends, is why there is no line in front of me on the stage. I, of all people, brought the processional to an immediate halt as Dr. Stice and I had a friendly and confusing conversation on the stage at graduation.

When I sat down next to the French boy who I became friends with that night, I told him the story. He said that I did look somewhat like the girl who had given the speech, and I pointed out that she is much tanner than I am. Paul, the other boy next to me, said, "That's funny. Her name is Tanier (pronounced like "Tanner"). Gosh, we're so clever.

1. I <3 U

I moved into a new apartment in January. I was planning on going to Spain to study abroad this past semester, so my roommate and I put our contracts up for sale together because we figured it'd be easier to sell to two friends rather than finding one person. Two sisters bought our contracts in a heartbeat, so when I decided that I wasn't going to Spain, I bought the contract next door from a girl who went to Jerusalem. I've met five wonderful girls in the last five months, not to mention the ones who bought our contracts--they're awesome!

Anyway, so when my roommate Katherine went home to Arizona for her bridal shower, I noticed that someone had written "I <3 (love) U" above my bed in glow-in-the-dark ink. I got so excited that I texted sister and best friend Melissa to see if either of them had written. They both said no--Stacy thought it was pretty cool, though, and Melissa just thought I was crazy for thinking she had written it. Thanks, Melis! I also texted my roommate Katherine to see if she had done it secretly before she left for AZ. Nope! But she thought my secret someone at the time had written it. Puh-lease.

When Katherine got back and had her screensaver on at night, the "I <3 U" didn't show up. I guess it had been there all along and just didn't show up unless the room was pitch black. Silly me! Well, if no one wrote it for me, at least someone out there is loved. That's what I keep telling myself.

2. Horn at the back

Car horns are brilliant. Personally, I never use mine, but they're really useful nonetheless . . . unless you're in Puerto Rico and get honked at for not going as soon as the light turns green.

I propose adding a horn to the back of the car. Then I would use the horn. I mean, how often do you have someone tailgating you, haphazardly turning into your lane right behind you, or not braking hard enough (therefore looking as if they're going to hit you). I know that more than once a week I want to honk at people behind me, thus caling for a horn in the back! Who's with me??!

3. Research Analyst

I got a new job within the company I work for, and I'm really excited to start working next week! As Jordan would say, I got a promotion. :)

May It Rest In Peace

I was driving to work this morning on the highway, dodging cops like always, reaching breakneck speeds. About 15/20 minutes into my ride I changed lanes and ended up behind a UPS truck. Note: I don't like driving behind semi-trucks or any large truck for that matter because they kick up rocks that hit my windshield (which is really low to the ground), so I end up with a lot of rock chips--and there's nothing you can do to avoid it! End note. So I'm driving behind the UPS truck and we're going under a bridge and out of nowhere comes this bird. It just decided to take a stroll under the bridge until the UPS truck drove right in its path. The bird smacked into the truck and pretty much--sorry, this gets graphic so you can stop reading here--well, it pretty much split in half. Feathers flew everywhere, and I'm still driving behind the truck, just hoping to dodge the bird. Luckily the bird fell in between lanes so Beyonce did not get hurt.

The sad thing about the whole ordeal is that I started to laugh. How often do you see a bird smack right into the side of a UPS truck? Or smack into anything? Poor little bird didn't even have a chance of survival, and there's Katy in her car just laughing away at what just happened. Hand clasped over my mouth and eyes wide, I looked at the driver in the car next to me to see what his reaction was. I think he saw it happen, but driving at breakneck speeds doesn't allow a lot of opportunity to assess people's reactions. I tried to check out the UPS guy's reaction and he was just tootin' along--I don't think he realized that anything happened.

And then I just kept laughing . . .

Kates Lives On

Update about the signs along the highway: they have now changed. While I was driving to work the other day, I read the billboard that said, "Now Hiring Guys Named Doug." Omniture has crossed out the name Doug and it now reads, "We reached quota. Thanks." The sign that used to say, "We Have Too Many Mikes" is now crossed out and below it says, "Actually, will the Mikes please stay." You may be wondering about my claim to fame. As the title gives away, I am in the clear. My sign now says, "Still Looking For Kates." Who isn't? Long live the queen.

I turned 22 between these last two posts! Happy birthday, Quin! (Did you really think I was going to wish myself a happy birthday? Please.) It's my brother-in-law's birthday tomorrow, so I will make it a public affair.

What did I get for my birthday, you ask? Well I'd be happy to share--thanks for asking! I got a yoga mat from Becki and Dallin--thank you two again! I love it, and I love that I don't feel incredibly dirty after doing yoga on the work mats. I can now do inversions and not feel like I have to wash my hair afterwards. I got three cans of frosting (kind of embarrassing to admit that I love frosting--it's so convenient when I need something sweet!) as well as the 3-disc version of Twilight from Ash and Kate. I love this present, too! I'm so happy that my friends are so aware of my wants/needs. Melissa bought me a Camelbak water bottle, which makes me so much more happy than a water bottle should make me feel.

. . . and then I got the present of all presents. Stacy and Pierce had me open an orange tissue paper-wrapped present that contained two tickets--to David Archuleta! David is one of my favorites! Ever since my mom, dad, and I watched American Idol last summer in Puerto Rico together, I have been head over heels over this 18-year-old! He has a wonderful voice, and his nervous laugh makes me giggle so much. Melissa and I went to the concert a few Fridays ago, and it was divine--he did not disappoint! Thank you, Mom, Dad, Stacy, Pierce, and Melissa for driving and parking! You guys made my 22nd birthday magical!

Stacy and Pierce, thank you so much for the surprise birthday party. Your apartment looked absolutely stunning, the treats were heavenly, and the company was unparalleled. You two are so thoughtful and you really make me smile every time I'm with you. I'm a lucky girl!

hehe This is a picture I edited in Paint. The picture was actually taken at my 21st birthday party when Carrie was pregnant with her baby. He's going to be 1 in a few weeks--crazy!

"David, stop that. You're too funny." That's what I was thinking.

Here we are on the floor of the E-Center just waiting with the thousands of screaming 6-year-olds, screaming right along with them!

Before the party got started, we had to get a picture of the man with the sweet 'stache. Sadly he covered his face and the zoom didn't do the trick, but boy oh boy did Melis get a great close-up of me. Hey everyone, come see how good I look!

We are way too excited--so excited that Melissa's little thumb made an appearance in the picture. What a random pose. And I am fully aware that my hair looks . . . not fantastic on the side there.

Here's when I started to lose my hearing. But wait, you guys! That's not even David! Benton Paul opened for David, and I'm willing to bet I was one of 10 people who could actually sing along to his songs, but the gals screamed anyway. Why not? He's cute!

"Oh my gosh! Benton, you're so good! But now that you're done, we want to see David."

There he is! Like a little angel on that stage. I actually guessed the first three songs he would sing in the same order--impressive. . . and scary, I know. He even sang You Gotta Be by Des'ree-one of my favorite songs! A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton, Love Song by Sara Bareilles, and lots more. To add a little Latin twist to his concert, he sang Como la Flor by Selena--learned it in high school, so I even sang along in Spanish!

Including horrible pictures of your 22-year-old self is a must in a post like this. Here I am just telling the camera that I am so pumped that I know 95% of the songs David's singing.

Have you read the Twilight series? I'm thinking I need a boy with jet black hair and dark skin . . . I am on Team Jacob.

I'm pretty sure "Goddess Divine" Melissa would be on Team Edward, but she hasn't read the treasured series.

We feel really good about being the oldest ones at the concert by about a decade. No, we did not lose our voices by screaming at the top of our lungs for D.A. ...shifty eyes

We had awesome seats--front and center and on the end of the row! David kept thanking the crowd and saying, "Wow!" after every song while laughing, just as I suspected.

I can guarantee nobody would want to kiss that face on the left. I promise I'll work on that. For now, let's all laugh it up. You won't be laughing when David wants to smooch.

I'm smiling because my arm looks like a stick.

This was such a fun night! Oh yeah, and it was Melissa's first concert, so naturally I had to act like a fool. Thanks again for the simply beautiful present!

Call Me Kates Hoff. Just do it

Every morning as I drive to work, I pass a sign like this one that I just made in Paint. (Side note: I have this fetish with Paint--you know, the program "accessory" on your computer that is really primitive and most likely intended for little kids to draw squiggles and scribbles. Yeah, that one.)

Anyway, this is how I'm greeted as I take my exit for work:

Unfortunately, I don't think they really do need more Kates. If I recall correctly, I applied for a job here over a month ago and was rejected--well, not really rejected. It's more like I was overlooked. Okay, so I never heard back from them. I think it's because I have "Kathryn" on the header of my resume and not "Kates." I probably should have written my name at the top and then in parentheses underneath that--in fine print, of course--"But my daddy calls me Kates." My siblings do, too. And I love it! I love that name.

Omniture has other signs like, "We have too many Mikes" and "Now hiring guys named Doug." I feel truly honored to be needed. If only they were true to their word . . . . Alas, I have a marvelous job that I enjoy, so it all worked out.

My friend Melissa and I went to the Draper Temple Open House tonight. The temple is absolutely beautiful, and I'm really glad that we had a successful date night--with Cold Stone ice cream to top it off, no less. On the way home from Draper (about a 45-minute drive from where I live), we passed yet another Omniture careers sign. They really know how to draw my attention.

So at first I'm thinking, "Wow. They got my last name, too." Except that my last name isn't German--many people think that. Don't worry, you're not the only one. Anyway, first and last name--well look at that. But then I realized that maybe that's not what I thought. Maybe it's not all the last names in Germany that end in "hoff." Wait a second . . . they're referring to David Hasselhoff! Goo! That's right! Dirk Nowitzski loves that guy and the NBA would not let him live that one down.

That's it for now. Love, "Kates Hoff." That's what I should have written on the resume. Do you think the resume reviewing committee would have even gotten the joke? Probably not.

That Didn't Just Happen

Part 1

My first week of work went well. I started feeling sick on Tuesday, but no need to fear--I got my XanGo juice and am feeling much better now! The girl I work with sent out an email to the company welcoming me to the group, and I got a few welcome responses from people. Here's one in particular from a girl in my department (there aren't many girls in IT):

"Welcome Katy! Just a word of caution- Watch out for Ben, Will, Rob, Doug, Jonny and.... Scott. Especially Scott. (I, Katy, have changed all names for the protection of these guys.)

These people may be criminally insane (also, don't believe anything they tell you about me).

Good to have you here. :)"

Part 2

Well here's where the title, "That Didn't Just Happen," comes in. Because my throat has been raw all week, I've been filling cups with ice (they have Sonic ice in their dispensers--it's fabulous) and letting the water seep through the ice. So usually I have just a cup full of ice that slowly melts throughout the day. Well our V.P. was talking to my co-worker and me, and I picked up my cup of "ice" so I could chew on some. You know how when there's only ice left in your cup, you bring it to your mouth with force so it doesn't stay stuck to the bottom? Well I used force. And it wasn't ice: it was pure water. As he's talking, I splash my face, the papers I'm holding, and my pants with water. I had to act fast. I quickly covered my face with the papers, ran a hand over my face to remove the excess water (but I wondered, "Can he see the water dripping from my chin? He probably thinks I'm insane now."), and swiveled around in my chair so that my back was facing the V.P., but I kept my head turned so that I could still see him and nod. After he went back into his office, I was left with a puddle of water in my lap and soaking papers. I let it dry and then turned to my co-worker:

"Want to hear something really embarrassing?"

"YES."

"Well, I was planning on telling you sometime later . . . not today . . . but I'll let you in on the secret right now."

I went through the whole story play by play, and we had a good laugh together. She said something along the lines of "Rock on. That's awesome. Thanks for telling me." We then proceeded to exchange embarrassing stories about bright pink lipstick and Oreo mouths. I just know we're going to be best friends.

"The Itchies"

Jordan made a good point in her comment on my last post. She said that I could have gotten "the itchies," as she puts it, as a reaction to stress. I feel like I've experienced a lot of stress during my high school/college career, so I don't know if that could be it. The job search did add just a smidgen to it.

Speaking of the job search and stress, I was asked during one of my interviews how I handle stress. I said something along the lines of, "Well, when I'm at work I usually just work through it. Once I get home, though, I handle stress by . . . well, honestly, . . . I sleep. And I play the piano. That's how I handle stress." I guess I really handle stress by breaking out in "the itchies." Who knew?!

And speaking of interviews and stress and jobs and such, I got the job at Xango. Starting this Monday at 8:30 in the sunshining morning, I will be the IT Coordinator. That's 8:30 to 5:30 every day of the week for the rest of my life. Wish me luck.

I Got Ants in my Pants

This is a somewhat weird post, but then again, which of my posts isn't? That's precisely why I blog about them. Anyway, I hope this doesn't reveal something terribly wrong with me.

Last night I came home from a birthday party at about 11:15 pm. I started to watch Monday night's episode of a certain TV show online, and my arm started itching. Scratch, scratch, scratch . . . . Before you know it, both of my arms are completely red from my scratching. If you've ever seen the way I scratch my neck or arms, you know that it's no massage--my nails dig in to get a good scratch, and I turn red really easily.

After my arms felt like they were going to fall off, I went into the bathroom and turned on the hot bathtub water. I soaked my arms in the scalding, running water and rubbed them a little bit--I guess I thought there was itching powder on my arms or something. By midnight, I decided to try to sleep, hoping the itch would go away during my ever-so-pleasant slumber. At 2:38 am I woke up scratching--my legs, my feet, my back, my arms. I went into the bathroom to survey the damage and I was absolutely red all over--no bumps, just scratches. I got on Google to see what it could be--was it dry skin from this dry weather? Could I have diabetes? Was I allergic to something I ate tonight?

Regardless, by 4 am I got in my car (her name is Beyonce--black and sexy and very curvy) and drove to Smith's. It's eerie being one of three cars in the grocery-store parking lot. I walked in and half of the store was blocked off because they were cleaning the floor. I had to walk around the whole store to get to the medicines: Benadryl, Cortaid anti-itch cream, oh, and I needed toothpaste. I made my purchase and went home.

By 5:20 am I felt a little drowsy from the Benadryl. I put on my tightest jacket and leggings and socks, which seemed to help alleviate the itch, and lay down on the couch to get some shut-eye.

As I write this, I still feel a little itchy in places--just had to scratch the elbow. What could it be? It's not a rash--my skin looks fine. I just can't believe that an itching sensation can take over your whole body like that. It's really disconcerting.

Runny Nosies

Not so much runny as, well, . . . bloody.

An explanation for the title of the post--When I was Primary music person this past summer in Puerto Rico, the Primary president's son strolled through the door into Sharing Time. Something was wrong with that picture--Spencer was only in nursery and could barely talk. Why was he roaming around the halls during Sunday School?

So I stopped him when he was in front of me in the Primary room. "Spencer, why are you out of nursery?" "Because I have runny nosies." "Oh, um, let's go talk to your mom. Or better yet--let's pay a visit to your dad." Tricky.

Apparently you can't go to nursery if you have "runny nosies" or coughs or anything else, which makes perfect sense. I just thought it was so darn cute that this little towhead with sweet puppy-dog eyes could win me over by calling his runny nose a runny nosie.

Anyway, that's not the point of this post. Rather, we're dealing with bloody noses here. If you get queasy easily, maybe this post is not for you. I have another story to share before I get to the final kaboom. In junior high, my friends and I were eating at the long lunch table--you know, the ones that fold and unfold with about 40 seats connected to it. Really a neat contraption. Well, so I was merrily eating my lunch, which consisted of the usual--Dorito's, PB & J perhaps, a can of Sprite, maybe a Little Debbie something rather thrown in there. As I go to eat a chip, I bite the corner off instead of sticking the whole chip in my mouth. Somehow a part of the chip (not the part I'm holding between my thumb and index finger and not the part in my mouth) breaks off and launches itself into my eye. That hurt. Not just physically. How embarrassing to have a chip in your eye! Especially when your eyes are as sensitive as mine. So my friend Lauren, what a dear, tried to help me get this Dorito out that is now lodged in my eye, and what do you know--my nose starts bleeding. Talk about adding more insult to what's already insult and injury! I remember that that was probably the worst bloody nose I ever had (and I've gotten a lot in my lifetime). I went to the nurse's office, with Lauren guiding me the whole way (I guess I was somewhat blind by this point, but that didn't really matter because I was keeping my head up to stop the flow of blood. That's not the right way to do it--I know. I'm a seasoned pro at this.), and stayed there for a good length of time because the blood kept coming.

That was then. This is now. A few nights ago, Melissa, Callie, and I went to Chili's before a men's volleyball game. The crispy chicken crisper tacos (true name) were SPICY--something that was not indicated on the menu--and I couldn't find any relief in the black beans and rice. The whole dinner was delicious but oh so spicy, and I just couldn't stop myself from eating it; I was ravenous. And although water makes a spicy situation only worse, it was the only solace I could find. I took a sip from my water. Meanwhile, Callie was telling us that she kept seeing a guy who looked like our waiter but who couldn't be our waiter because he looked much, much bigger. In her words, "It looks like he ate a house." I lost it. The sip I took was now about to spew all over the place. I quickly grabbed a handful of napkins and stopped the water from going out the way it came. I couldn't stop laughing and finally had to compose myself--and wipe the water from off my face. After about a minute, I pulled the napkin away to survey the damage--water on the clothes? No--good. Any more on my face? Clear. But there's blood in my napkin! My nose started bleeding as I was cleaning my face from the almost-spewage! YIKES! Surprisingly, the girls didn't even notice, and I was so embarrassed that my nose would spontaneously start gushing, so I was cautious for the rest of the evening.

It's bad when you grow up in Texas and get bloody noses. It's even worse when you move to dry, high-altitude Utah and continue to get them even when you've graduated from college. Isn't it just supposed to happen to you when you're younger? I know it's not, but it's more embarrassing now. And to top it off, spicy probably doesn't help the situation. And now I know what to avoid: eating spicy food in Utah, then taking a sip of water to ease the fire that's blazing in your mouth, then hearing a funny joke mid-sip, spewing, covering it up. I'll try not to repeat that sequence.