Jess and Bill

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Jess.

One fateful day in May she went to stake prayer sat next to  the love of her life--only she didn't know him yet. His name was Bill. After a night of games and other activities Bill gathered the courage and asked Jess on a date. And they had a blast. Little by little they got to know each other and they fell in love. For a year they dated and then at last they were married in the Logan Temple for all eternity.

So here's to you Jess.

GREAT friends! Melissa, Mallory, Rachel and Hilary

Rich 301 united! Kelsie, Michelle, Me, Mallory, and Rachel!

Two drop-dead-gorgeous girls!

It was a bit chilly in the shade!

A little sick of smiling?

I apologize for the horribleness of this picture, but
 I love their faces. :) So descriptive of them.

Hilary and Jess!

The lovely couple and Melissa--who
 is getting married herself in August!

Sisters, sisters! Jess and Fred [a.k.a Marie]

Little sister Valerie caught the bouquet!

Little girls excited about balloons....

...Hilary and Taylor excited about balloons.

The great escape!

Congrats you two. I wish you the best life has to offer!

-Tay

The Green Apron

I do have something to blame for my absence from the blog world: Ream's.

Most of you recall that I worked there for a year back in high school. When I moved home this summer I was in dire need of income, and found that Reams was hiring again. After an application and a quick interview I was back behind the checkstand doing what I never thought I'd do again. 

The first day was rough. Lorie just assumed that I remembered it all when really, I was clueless. I fumbled my way through the first few days of "training" and went home depressed and overwhelmed. It just wasn't coming back. The produce codes I worked so hard to memorize were completely gone. The checklists of things to do for WIC, checks, and in-store charges was jumbled and forgotten. 

One day, in a rush, it got really busy and so I jumped in a checkstand to help out. There was an initial panic, but then my fingers took over and it came flooding back. Celery 4070, Garlic 4608, Loose Carrots 4562. It was incredible. It was almost as if it was staying latent until stress pushed me into action. From then on I've had many little questions, but I've been able to remember and build on what I knew before.

A crazy thing was that on my first real shift I could not remember the lettuce codes to save my life. Everyone buys lettuce, and I got stuck every time. The part that was even stranger was that I knew a ton of really weird numbers like tomatillos, artichokes, and turnips but I couldn't remember romaine lettuce. It's fixed now though, don't worry.

The other day I dreamed about Reams. I dreamed about checking out an order and then I said, "5.56 please." Instead of just saying that in my dream I said it out loud--and woke myself up. Yup. It even haunts my dreams.

So, my life has been Reams. 

"How are you doing today?"

"Great thank you!"

I've perfected the art of the fake smile. I try my darndest to be happy, but sometimes it's just been a long, long, day.

What brightens my day is when customers will actually talk to me. I strike up small talk a thousand times a day, but on those rare occasions when I can actually talk to them about something interesting I feel like I've done my job right. I learn some pretty awesome things too. I've heard about good movies, Australian Root Beer, ice cream preferences, holiday traditions, and countless recipes. People leave with a smile, and they realize that I do care about them.

But work is not always rosy. The other day I had an crazy busy, stressful, and altogether awful day at Reams. I flashed my fake smile and carried out orders like a zombie. What made me the most angry though was when  people would reply to my greeting with a grunt or some sort of "bad day" answer. If I can fake this for hours on end you can fake being happy for a few minutes! Just pretend you are having a good day and dump your grumpy on somebody else! Usually I'm more patient, but that day was just awful. 

So here's a hint: Be nice to your next cashier. Strike up a conversation. Actually listen to the answers. Their job sucks, and you can make it better by being kind.

Fore!

Golf is a game invented by classy looking men that want to hit a ball without [heaven forbid!] breaking a sweat. And they drive around a golf cart so that they don't actually have to exercise. What is the fun in that?

In spite of my tendency to make fun of golf, I had the chance to go with my singles ward and so I went. It couldn't be that bad. I grabbed my mom's dusty clubs and headed off to Hobble Creek Golf Course.

Since few of us actually knew what we were doing we played a really relaxed game. Instead of the traditional rules we played "scramble". These are the basics:

Each player tees off on each hole. The best of the tee shots is selected and all players play their second shots from that spot. The best of the second shots is determined, then all play their third shots from that spot, and so on until the ball is holed. 

This was good because between the four of us someone could usually land a decent shot. It was rarely me, but I tried! It was at this point that I realized golf is a little harder than it looks. And since I had to swing six times for every shot, I got tired quite easily. There was also an incredible amount of wind, and so I attribute most of my horribleness to the wind. 

In my group I was fortunate enough to have the lovely Breanna [who showed me the wonderfullness of ball cleaning machines], as well as McKinzie and her boyfriend Addison [quite possibly the cutest couple I have ever seen]. None of us really knew what we were doing, and so it was fun. We also, *ahem* cheated a lot. My favorite was standing behind the hole so that the ball would roll in, we called it the "backboard". We also didn't count strokes [or my score would easily be 500] and we liked to move the ball to the middle of the fairway. For a first time golfing, it's more fun if you cheat.

Somebody knew enough to tell us that the big fat #1 is for hitting things a long way, but after that we were a bit lost. The #6 or the #7? What does P stand for? When it came time to choose a mid-range club [not the fat #1 or the putter] I looked and thought to myself, "Hmmm, I haven't used the #3 one yet!"

I'm going to go pro someday, can't you tell?

After 9 holes of golf I was exhausted [no golf cart = walk two miles] and the next day I was incredibly sore in places that I've never hurt before. I now respect golf as a sport. It's still a wimpy sport, don't get me wrong, but it takes some skill. 

On a final note: My family loves Bill Engvall and this is one of his comedy routines that is our favorite, and it is worth listening to

I Love Golf --Bill Engvall

[note: this link is for Rhapsody. You can listen to it free and without any commitments or downloads, just make sure to disable your pop-up-blocker. I promise, this is so worth it.]

Update: On Dating, and My Life

Thank you friends! It's so nice to know that I'm NOT going crazy and that this angst is normal. Each of your comments helped tremendously!

Upon much consideration I have concluded thus:
I am ready for life and whichever way it blows me. If it so happens that I marry Tyson, I will be happy. If I find someone else, I will be happy. As long as I pay attention to what the Lord has in store for me, my life will work out. So really, I'm not in charge here, He is. And that's comforting, because I don't always know what is best, but He does.

So thank you Beth, Sarah, Jen, Rachel, Eileen, Hilary, and Kim! ALL of your thoughts were appreciated!

DATE REPORT

Former Crush: Dud. He was distracted and distant, and there was no connection. But most importantly: he doesn't like Princess and the Frog. Thumbs down. [I cannot count how many times I made Tyson watch that with me. Usually I would fall asleep on his lap. We watched it on the day of his farewell when we said our final face-to-face goodbyes. Awwwww...]

Fiddler Man: We have an official date to go country swing dancing on Wednesday. I'm not sure how to feel right now; excited, but scared? The rest of the story [to be continued]...

And, by popular request, I shall tell you the plan of my life [or next year.]

My career choice is to be a physical therapist assistant. I love it for many reasons, and I'm super excited to start working with patients. In order to do this I have to do 1.5 years in an intensive program at SLCC to get a degree in it. Therein lies the problem. Salt Lake Community College, the most frustrating school ever. They let people in the program on a first-come-first-serve basis instead of taking applications and choosing the best students. Thus, the program next fall is almost full and so I will be put on a waiting list for the following fall, 2012. Guaranteed I will get into the program, it's just an issue of when. So currently I am facing a year of limbo in which I plan to work and save money so that I don't delve too deeply into student loans, and attempt to live at home. I was hoping to get it done ASAP, but now life is on hold for a year. 

So, no, I am NOT converting to BYU, I am going to good ol' Salt Lake [I was there this morning, and it is ghetto], when they finally accept me into the program. Starting next week I will find a job, save money, and try to keep myself occupied for a year. Then Tyson gets home, so who knows after that?

Of Missionaries, Dating, and Men

Once upon a time there was a girl, named Taylor. She fell in love with a boy, and they dated for a very long time. The time came that he was called on a mission to the Great White North, and although it was very sad, they parted ways in hopes that one day they would be reunited.

Fast forward several months.

Taylor writes this boy each week, and still loves him, but somehow she must continue living all by herself. It’s been a hard road, but she’s done it. And thus far she has been successful in keeping all individuals of the male gender at bay. One awkward date in September. Three dates in February. All is well with the world.

Last month of school.

Last week: date to Fiddler on the Roof.
Tomorrow: date planned with a former crush. Why now?
Next week?: hang out with Fiddler on the Roof man?

Of course. Last week of school. And I’m NOT coming to USU next year. Thus it is all pretty much pointless. Why now?

But the big angst in this whole situation is my internal confusion. What do I want? I think it’s perfectly fine that I have had a crush while my missionary is gone, I still love him most of all. It’s just soooooo difficult that he is miles away and I can only talk to him through hand-written letters like it’s the dark ages or something.

But what do I want? Him, but that it still another 15 months away. But what if this guy…? I guess I could give him a chance. But is that leading him on? What IS my relationship status? 

             Answer: so complicated it’s not even funny!

Dating is fun. It’s fun to get dressed up and feel special for a night. I like talking to people and getting to know them [and honestly, who can begrudge free meals and desserts?].

But dating also sucks. It keeps you up at night wondering, Did I do something I shouldn’t have? Will he get the wrong idea? What does he think about this? Did I act like a complete idiot? 

Sometimes I just want to nix dating completely. And others, I sort of miss it and think, “Well, it can’t be that bad…” And then I go on a date. And the turmoil starts over.

If I didn’t have my missionary, life would be simple. Open to all dating opportunities just to “see how it goes”. But now I’m all tied up. Do I go for it? Do I tell the guy this complicated situation?

My family really likes my missionary. To the point that if I started dating anyone else my brother would come and “beat him up”. But I still want to be happy and enjoy life, and I really want to look at other people and decide if he really is the right one. So far he is the best I’ve ever found, but it won’t hurt to go on a few dates. Right?

Ugh. The joys of dating. One more week and all my problems will be solved,--more like avoided. Hopefully.

"Send me a sign! A hint! Anything!" [name that movie!]

Any suggestions for this poor, confused, single girl?

My Favorite Word

I just finished a 10 page paper and am very happy with myself, so I decided to take a break and blog. It's super short today, but here is the Physiological Finding for the week.This one I actually discovered in high school, but I will never forget it.

It happens to everyone.
Mid sentence, mid awkward date, mid staring contest.
Your eye flutters,
                  seizes,
                     contorts,
and in a flash it disappears, leaving you thinking, "Say what??"

Eye twitch = blepharospasm

[bleh-fah-ro-spazm]

Now when that attractive person asks you what just happened to your eye you can redeem your moment of freakishness by answering intelligently.

Blepharospasm.

Baby Animal Days

Spring Fever had hit full force. We had looked forward to this event for weeks, and even the freshly fallen snow couldn't deter us.

Although I had an Anatomy test to study for I was coerced into going by my good friends Hilary and Chase, and so we spent several hours at American West Heritage Center cuddling furry animals and walking through mud. So worth it!

Chase brought a set of "wild west rags" for us to wear. They are large bandannas made of silk that the "real" cowboys use to keep themselves cool in the summer and warm in the winter. Putting them on was a challenge, but after we succeeded in that we looked like a pretty spiffy group.

Chase, Hilary, Me, and our new friends Sarah and Kelsey

And then, we saw the absolute cutest little frogs that you could buy as pets! So naturally Hilary and I bought one. His name is Cricket and he is an African Swimming Frog. He lives fully in the water and is about the size of my thumbnail. Touching him scares the tar out of me [I haven't done it yet] and changing his water is a huge ordeal. It was an impulse buy [can you argue with $3???] But we love him. :)