Sunday, October 31, 2010

One Reason Not To Wear Flip-Flops While Grocery Shopping

Saturday. My free day.

This particular Saturday, October 30th, I rolled out of bed late in the morning (okay, okay, it was early afternoon!) after a late night at a HUGE Halloween party. I did the lazy thing, lounged in my pajamas for a while, started some laundry, and then decided I should get things rolling before heading out with some friends for more Halloween adventures. One thing I needed to accomplish was a quick trip to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for my ward's once a month diner's club. I quickly grabbed a pair of flip flops and rushed out the door so I'd be back in time to pull my laundrey out of the dryer.

Once at the store I nabbed a handheld basket from one of the checkout lines and bee-lined towards the baking goods isle. Walking at quite the brisk pace I dodged between a lady shopping by herself, and a mother pushing her son in a shopping cart when WHAM!! I was full out sprawled on the ground in the middle of the isle thanks to an unseen puddle of what I hope was water. Both ladies looked at me like I was stupid, or just had some kind of fainting spell. It was that much of a show. Righting myself to the vertical position again I annoyingly shared what I had discovered on the floor, and the lady shopping by herself quickly started off to find an employee. I think the lady with the kid asked if I was okay, and then continued on her way.

I stood above the puddle to deter potential accidents for about a minute until the first lady returned with what looked like a bag boy who asked: "Um, do you want to fill out some paperwork or something?" Oh, I was annoyed, but I wasn't about to spend 30 minutes filling out an accident report. Instead I shortly answered no, and that they should just clean it up because someone else would seize the opportunity to sue the store if they could. I really just wanted to get my canned pumkin and cake mix and go home.

My knee hurts.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

The Man of My Dream

Ha. I know many of you probably want to add an "s" to the end of that title, but read on and it will all make sense.

In recent weeks I have been having all sorts of dreams. It's kind of a pattern for me to have a period of time where I dream almost every night, and then I go through a longer period of time where I don't dream at all. The dreams are usually random and not connected to anything in my real life, but lately there has been a difference: I've known one to two people in each dream. In the past I've had dreams where I seem to know the person/people in my dreams, but they are not real people in my life. I've written a few of these recent dreams down in my notebook because (1) they are unusual for me, (2) all the people that show up in my dreams are guys that I currently know and associate with, and (3) they're just funny sometimes, like the one where my friend bought me frog leg soup (random). You should make note that none of these dreams have been of the romantic sort.

Anyway, I had another dream last night that involved someone I know, but this dream broke the pattern again. This time the person I knew was in fact not a guy - it was my mom. And I can't really remember what was going on at the beginning, but for some reason my mom and I were in this amazingly awesome building/house that you could tell cost millions of dollars. There were columns, and shades of emerald throughout the decor. My mom walked out of the room just as this beautiful, handsome, dashing, basically-perfect-in-every-way guy in a nice car slides the vehicle to a stop there on the green streaked marble-floored indoor balcony that overlooked the front entryway below. How the car even got up to the second floor was obviously not a concern, nor out of place in my dream.

He was there for me, this man of my dream; I knew it. He got out of the car with purpose and I started toward him in amazement. He looked really good in that tux, too. He then turned and started jogging away from me, and my heart fell. How could I get my hopes up again? I stopped in my place unsure of what to do, and then he turned around - it was a trick; he wanted to see just how excited I'd be when he came back for me.

Enter the cheesy movie-like part of my dream: we ran for each other and he wrapped me up in the best hug possible and dipped me low to the ground. I guess you can compare the dip to the final scene of "The Cutting Edge" when they're out on the ice and you know they just won the gold medal, and Kate tells Doug that she's in love with him. It was that kind of dip.

The man of my dream kissed me.

...and it was the most awkward and uncomfortable kiss I have ever had - EVER! Including real life! It was like he had never kissed anyone, ever. I looked up into his eyes and with concern asked, "We are going to get better at this, right??"

Friday, October 15, 2010

My Spider Friend

Not long after moving to Los Angeles a spider befriended my car. Well, the passenger-side mirror of my car to be exact. I parked on the street of the cute neighborhood in front of my first apartment every day, next to little stretches of grass and beneath the shade of trees that lined the sidewalks. Since Los Angeles is mostly made of concrete, I assume that there are a plethora of living critters dwelling in the green and growing patches that do exist in the city. This is where my friend the spider met Babe, my car.

I never actually saw the spider but for months there was daily evidence that this eight-legged critter was dwelling in the cavity behind my passenger side mirror, as there was a web craftily spun all over the front of the mirror, sometimes even connecting to the window. When the web would get too big I would roll down the passenger window, and wipe it off with a tissue. I'll admit I was surprised the first time it reappeared. Soon however, it was a normal thing - the spider built its web while my car was parked, and I destroyed it with tissue or by flying down a highway. This was one resilient spider; it even kept up its antics when I moved to my new apartment in August to a parking space far from grass and trees. I figured that critter would be living in the space abaft of my mirror until I decided to wash my car and flush it out with a hose - which if you know me at all you know that I'm doing good if I wash my car even once a year.

Then, late in September I drove my car to Vegas. The web got messed up while on the highway, and I just figured I'd see a new one strung across the mirror the next morning. But, there never was a new web. I think the spider finally decided it couldn't handle the competition and died; or bailed out somewhere along the road to Vegas. Funny, I don't like spiders but I felt kind of sorry for the little bugger. We had such a nice routine going.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

I CAN Change The World!

Surveys. We've all been asked to complete/fill out a survey, give feedback, etc. at one point or another. Most often I ignore them, but on the rare occasion I do take the time to comply with a survey request I promptly forget about them once they are completed. That was obviously something that happened to me this summer when I was traveling a bunch. I filled out a survey about one of my flights, and then forgot about it. I can't remember actually filling out a survey, let alone if I filled it out online or by physically checking off boxes on a sheet of paper. Actually, I think the last one is correct. I vaguely remember handing something to a flight attendant once while at cruising altitude. But maybe that was my trash.

Anyway, I remembered today that I have an email account (meaning, I checked my email for the first time in a week), and this is what I found in my inbox from American Airlines:

Dear Ms. Hellewell:

We appreciate your participation with our survey dated July 19.

Your comments regarding the cleanliness of the windows have been forwarded to the appropriate management personnel who will use them constructively as we continue to search for ways to improve all aspects of our service.

Ms. Hellewell, again, thank you. We will do all possible to make your experiences pleasant and trouble-free on American Airlines.

Sara Holmes

Customer Relations
American Airlines

I'm not sure why I found this so funny, but it sent me into a small fit of laughter. Maybe it was the way they made it sound all formal with their phrasing of: "cleanliness of the windows." Or, maybe it's just because we've ALL been there - you manage to score a window seat on the plane, you get all your stuff shoved under the seat in front of you, you wiggle into a semi-comfortable position and fasten your seat belt, turn to look out the window, and BAM! Someone's greasy forehead print is smudged perfectly across the middle of the window fogging up your view of the tarmac.

But maybe, just maybe, the funniest part is that the airline actually read my comment, deemed it important enough to not be tossed in the recycle bin, and have decided to do something about it.

That's one small step for man, folks.