I'm a Criminal

A couple weeks back I got pulled over on the freeway for my window tint. Apparently it's illegal in the great state of Utah. Who knew? I was issued the dreaded fix-it ticket! This was officially the first time I'd ever found myself on the wrong side of the law. I didn't like it. It wasn't thrilling. I didn't feel adventurous or bad to the bone. I felt annoyed.

I bought my car about a year ago from a used car dealership. It just came with the tint on it already. No one ever said a word to me that it might be against the rules. One time I locked my keys in my car (which I do far more often than I'd like to admit) and a guy at my office called one of his police officer buddies to come down and help me out. He unlocked my car for me without saying a word about the tint situation. Even just a friendly little hint would have been nice. I could have taken care of the problem before I became a menace to society.

Did you know that peeling off window tint is the worst thing in the world? The adhesive radiates toxic death fumes that give you instant headache and nausea. By the time I had scraped away the last of it with rubbing alcohol and a razor blade I'm pretty sure blood was issuing from my ears and nose. And eyeballs. I'M NOT EVEN EXAGGERATING! Plus it made my car smell like sweaty armpit for days!

Finally this morning, after chasing down the last highway patrolman in the UHP parking lot to sign off on my ticket and going through security at the Orem Justice Court, my violation has been dismissed and I find myself on the right side of the law once more. It's good to be back!

Only until January 19th though. That's when my driver's license expires.

I should probably get on that.

Inexplicable Movie Crush

Wind in His Hair

Is it his intense jaw line and no-nonsense demeanor?


His beautiful bronze skin and flowing black hair?

His deeply emotional and powerful monologue at the end of Dances with Wolves that makes me cry every time?


"Dances with Wolves! I am Wind in His Hair! Do you see that I am your friend? Can you see that you will always be my friend?"

I can't say for sure. All I know is I like him. I like him a lot.

Universe: Altered

Have you ever believed something so deeply and surely that you never even questioned that it could possibly be wrong? It never even occurred to you to doubt what you knew to be true? And then when you found out you were abysmally mistaken, your whole world turned into a blur and spun around you until it came to a dramatic stop and zoomed in on your ridiculous shameful face?

Am I going too fast? Is this making any sense? Let me explain.

The above scenario has happened to me 3 notable times in my life.

The first time was when I was probably a young teen. For years I had been ushered around in a van with my momma listening to the sweet, soft rock sounds of Air Supply. Oh, how I loved their breathtaking, romantic ballads! They were so passionate and sweeping! They must have been so in love! Like Sonny and Cher, Captain and Tenille, Beauty and the Beast. These people knew how to be in love. "All Out of Love", "Making Love Out of Nothing at All", "Even the Nights Are Better". His straightforward, masculine crooning the perfect foil for her bombastic alto voice. I asked my mom, "So, are they married?" Then it happened. She answered, "Lace, they're both men." We did not at that point get into any discussion about other potential explanations for two men singing love songs together. All I knew was that the tall, lean woman with brunette feathered hair I had pictured for all those years was a short dude with a blonde afro. Then came the spinning and the jaw-dropping and the embarrassment.

The second was much more recent and life-altering. Oddly enough it has to do with another music duo, the legendary Simon and Garfunkel. I was raised on them. The album cover of "Bridge Over Troubled Water" is burned into my psyche. For some reason- I have no idea why- I had it in my head that Paul Simon was the tall curly one and Art Garfunkel was the short, dark one. I lived with this grossly erroneous belief for my entire life. I think I just thought that "Garfunkel" was a short person name. Doesn't his voice sound like a short voice? I don't know. But that's what I wholly believed, and I was never challenged because they were seen as a unit. They were just Simon and Garfunkel, not individuals. Well, maybe 5 or 6 years ago I was in the mood to listen to "You Can Call Me Al" from Paul's solo days. I knew my dad had a hits collection of his somewhere, so I commenced digging. Then I saw it.


Thick black eyebrows. No blonde curls poofing out from under the fedora. "Paul Simon" written in bold along the side. And just like that my vision started to blur. My pulse quickened. The room around me was spinning. I felt like I'd been hit in the stomach. My world was turned on its head. I truly had a pit in my stomach for days after. Something I'd had no doubt about for at least a decade was pure falsehood.

But that could never happen with something as consistent and commonplace as a holiday song, right? All those carols are so ingrained from childhood, one couldn't possibly misunderstand so tragically. There I was. Just over a week ago. It was Christmas Eve. My sister and I were seated at the piano singing Christmas songs. We're cool and hardcore like that. She flipped the page of the songbook in front of us. "Sleigh Ride"! That's a fun one! She played and I sang along glancing down at the words occasionally even though I obviously knew all the words by heart. "Come on it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you! Let's take that..." My eyes found our place on the page. I read the words there. "Let's take that road before us..." I stopped. That was not what I was about to sing!

"Oh my gosh!" I shouted at my sister and she stopped playing. "Are those the words?!?" She read them, then looked at me baffled and confused. "Uh, yes..." she answered. "Oh my gosh!!!" I shouted again with a guffaw of astonishment. I dropped my face in my hands and shook my head. "What?!" she asked. "What did you THINK it said?"

I couldn't believe it! How could I have been wrong about this? Have I not heard this song 100 times every winter since my birth?!? Have I not sung along to it since I could talk?!? Why?!?

"I thought it said 'Let's take that ropey forest'!" I laugh-cried into my hands. She burst into laughter. I tried to explain what I pictured in my head to make those lyrics make sense. There's a snowy path that winds and loops like a rope all around in a forest. I know it's stretch, but I thought that's what the words were, so I made it fit. Oh the humiliation! I have a feeling I will struggle for the rest of my life to get the words right, or at least to not articulate the "t" of "forest" so as to avoid the mockery of family and loved ones.

There you go. Aren't you glad to see that my earth-shattering experiences are pretty much limited to soft rock and holiday tunes and not politics and religion and life decisions? Just keeping it simple. It's what I do best!

Blogging Milestones

#1- I've posted enough that I finally pushed the "Dear Prudence" post to the "older posts" page! When I posted that one, I accidentally didn't change the playlist to the manual play setting. Even though I love the song and the story, it has driven me nigh unto madness! That squealy tire sound then the ringing, the ringing, the ringing! I won't make THAT mistake again. Believe you me!

#2- I've broken through to Germany, Sweden, and Russia! Don't ask me how. Of my abundant 12 pageviews this week, 5 of them were from those three countries. Are you kidding me? I don't know what random, accidental link sent them to this blog. I can pretty much promise that they won't be back. Could they even read it? I wouldn't understand a blog in their respective languages. Then again, I'm American and only speak one language... I'm going to go ahead and guess it wasn't the pictures of my knees that brought them here. Who knows? A mystery for the ages.

#3- Tomorrow is my blog's and my 3 month anniversary. I feel so lucky to have it my life. It's always here for me, even when I neglect it and threaten to abandon it forever. We have our differences of course, like when I can't get the font and text size to match from paragraph to paragraph no matter what I do and I begin shaking with anger and frustration. See, it's those little quirks that keep us together and make us the perfect match, that make us special. I love you, Blog. I love you.

I look forward to many more blogging milestones to come!

Um... I Fell Down

Remember that whole post I wrote that once about my constantly making an idiot out of myself? About the seemingly dire need of the universe to humiliate me any time it possibly can? Allow me to relate another tale supporting my claim.

About a week ago I went with my brother, Dan, and sister-in-law, Lorraine, to the World Market to look for some sweet stuff for my new apartment. I checked out with my spoils of war: A couple of baskets, a cool carved wall hanging, a stunning vase. On our way out the door we spotted a display with a gorgeous mosaic-top side table. I had said maybe 5 minutes earlier to Dan, "I wish I could find a table with a beautiful mosaic top." It seemed that the Fates smiled down on me at that moment. Little did I know they were building me up only to knock me down.

I turned right back around and bought the table. I was so pleased with my find. Once I'd checked out the second time Dan carried out my first purchases and I walked into the parking lot with my beautiful new table. We all walked along toward my car, when suddenly it seemed the ground had disappeared from beneath my footstep. In an instant I realized that I'd taken a step into a sink hole. My ankle turned, and my whole weight was falling to the asphalt below. My only thought in that instant was, "SAVE THE TABLE!" With both hands I held it up as high as could to keep it from hitting the ground. It meant that I couldn't catch myself with my hands or attempt a quick balance check and throw my other foot forward for a save. I was going down. All the way. And I did. I fell straight down on both my knees with a thud.

The pain was instant, but was quickly surpassed by shock and profound embarrassment. I scrambled to my feet, shooting glances side to side to see who had witnessed the folly. Dan and Lorraine were a given. I can handle embarrassment in front of family members. They're pretty much used to me at this point. Since Lorraine is relatively new to the family, if she wasn't used to it then, she would be now. I thought I'd get her on the fast track to seeing my idiocy. But there was someone else. Two people in fact. Getting out of their car immediately in front of me. They stared at me awkwardly for a moment, then shuffled past me towards the store.

The shock continued as I robotically started towards my car again. Then Lorraine's voice registered behind me. "Wait, Lace, your shoe! Your shoe!" It was still in the sink hole. I went back again to put it on. I was probably halfway to my car before some of the haze began to clear from my mind and I realized how ridiculous that whole scene had looked. I burst out laughing. To Dan and Lorraine's credit they waited to laugh until I did and they were sure I was alright, although I could tell they desperately wanted to.

Once I was safely hiding behind my car I surveyed the damage. There was some definite scrapeage, but no blood and no holes in my pants. I didn't slide or roll, just a direct impact.

Then Dan asked, "Do you still want to go to dinner?" As though the embarrassment of my fall had rendered me incapable of further activity. Of course I did! And I enjoyed the rest of the evening, even though sudden sharp pains from my knees served as constant reminders and set me into periodic fits of laughter.

Oh! The good news in all of this is, the table is fine! It didn't even hit the ground. My purpose was served and my sacrifice worthwhile.

Now I give you pictorial evidence! Enjoy! Or don't scroll down if bruised knees make you queasy or uncomfortable in any way.





Pretty colors!

The Secretary Files: My Nemesis

There is only one thing I truly hate about my job. It has nothing at all to do with the people I work with. It’s not the paperwork or the phones ringing off the hook. It’s a very simple and basic piece of equipment that shouldn’t have to be given a second thought. It is a staple puller. It is the worst staple puller in the history of the world. Lamentably, it is my staple puller.

Upon first glance it seems ordinary enough. Don’t let its unassuming appearance fool you. It deceives you. It’s manipulating you right now. Just try to pick it up and use it. It will leave you in ruins.

Figure A. This is how a normal staple puller is supposed to close. When you clamp the little claws underneath a staple needing to be removed, it will easily and cleanly pull the staple out, causing little to no damage to the document or the staple puller user.

Figure B. This is how The Worst Staple Puller in the World closes. The claws still clamp the staple, but they twist and maim the staple, jamming it between the claws, causing one to have to pull and pry them apart, all while tearing gaping holes in the document and pinching the daylights out of the user.

Figure C. This is an example of a poor unsuspecting piece of paper, ravaged by TWSPITW.

Figure D. This is a picture of a wound sustained by the primary user (me). It’s a blood blister received while attempting to free a staple from TWSPITW’s jaws. It’s been there for weeks with no signs of healing.

You may well ask, “Why don’t you get yourself a new staple puller?” How high-maintenance would it sound to ask the other secretary, who orders office supplies, to get me a new staple puller? “Um, hi. My staple puller’s performance is unsatisfactory. Would you please order me another one?” I can’t do that! Then you ask, “Well, why don’t you just use the functional staple puller pictured in Figure A?” That’s a communal staple puller that lives by the copy machine. It’s a different color than mine. If I tried to switch them, someone would notice and be mad when mine destroyed their papers. Then I’d be embarrassed.

And the truth is, TWSPITW doesn’t malfunction all the time. It’ll work just fine for a couple of days, lulling me into a false sense of security. Then, BAM! My successful-staple-removal walls come crashing down around me.

The Worst Staple Puller in the World leaves me churning in its devilish wake, a broken woman.

Get the Job Done!

Someone finally thought of a 100%, fool-proof method for getting rid of pests!

VERMIN DECIMATED!!!

Pay no attention to the pile of rubble that was once your home.