To my Formidable Foe:

Dear Mr. Beetle,

I must say, you displayed quite a will to live last night. When I first encountered you by the nightstand I enlisted the help of my good friends, Mrs. Violet Shoe and Mr. C. D. Case, but they couldn't reach you in your covert position right next to the wall. Finally Mr. Case and I found a sharp corner and attempted to deal a death blow. You were wounded severely and by the looks of it, in two pieces. At that point I believed I had bested you and continued about my business.

Minutes later I looked over at the crack where your corpse had lain [I was much too terrified to move it] and I discovered it gone. Nothing is quite as unnerving as half-killing an insect and then finding it gone when you are about to rest for the night.

Later that night you had the presence of mind to scuttle across my room--exposed by the florescent light. Upon discovery I yelled to Mrs. Violet and we pounced upon you. After holding you captive for a moment and thinking you vanquished we lifted... and you began to scamper away again! The imprisonment hadn't effected you at all! The carpet wasn't solid enough to aid us in our pursuit, and you very thick exoskeleton was seemingly impervious to attack. We trapped you again,...and again, and still you would not slow. You would race off at the same skittish pace as though nothing had happened.

No progress was made and so Mrs. Violet and I tried another tactic. This time we imprisoned you, pushed harder, and twisted the rubber sole in an attempt to crush your hardened shell. We then let up to examine the effect. You were wounded, but carried on. It is here that I must acknowledge your perseverance Mr. Beetle. You were a most honorable foe. You continued among insurmountable odds and pursued your goals with vigor.

At this moment we consulted and decided that Mrs. Violet was just not up to the task. As I kept you stationary she ran to enlist her husband, Mr. Birk N. Stock. He was a sturdier shoe and together we inflicted more damage. You grew steadily weaker with each stroke and finally you were officially broken into two pieces. I leaned in close to inspect and to my utter surprise [disgust, astonishment, AND fear] you stood up and scrambled a distance! I was astounded. Your foot caught and you fell on your back with your legs flailing. In the quiet night I could hear your sharp feet clawing the threads of the carpet. Mr. Birk brought one final blow to your exposed underbelly and then you were absolutely and completely defeated. There weren't enough pieces left to pick up.

But here is to you Mr. Beetle. You fought a great fight. I'm certain it took me nearly seventeen attempts to finally best you. You are honorably inducted into my personal hall of fame as, "The Invincible Beetle." Rest in peace.

Regards,
         Tay

[This is the true story of what happened to ME, last night {minus the satire}. True, I hate bugs and I especially hate killing them, but this really was "The Invincible Beetle." I hope you enjoyed my ridiculous story. Normal life is sometimes just as interesting as fairytales.]

Excedrin

A man came into my line at Reams the other day with one item:
               a bottle of Excedrin.

Not unusual, happens all the time.

First thought: "Migraine. Ouch."

Second thought: "What to say...."---As always I try to strike up a bit of conversation. It serves two purposes, [1] leaves the customer feeling happy and [2] keeps me from going crazy. Take it from me, starting small talk 600 times a day is tiring. Actual conversation is golden.

So, in a situation such as this I usually say something along the lines of, "I hope this isn't for you", or "someone isn't happy at your house!" If they are the sick individual I offer my condolences for their ailment. [This is an easy conversation starter, most of the time it's more difficult.]

This time I said, "So is this for you or going home to someone else?"

To this he answered, "I hope it's not for me, otherwise something would be seriously wrong!" Accompanied by a half smile/half "what-are-you-thinking" look.

I looked at the bottle more closely.

Tip for next time: Read the package.

Summer Shoes

Through a random internet surfing I discovered [this blog post.] Too fun! So I made a few myself. I was in need of some summer shoes anyway...

Helpful Hints

--That really cute pair she found at Walmart doesn't exist. I looked everywhere. BUT they do have the Target brand for $9, and those are my favorite [plus, the elastic is already inside, so you don't need to sew it!]. I got some from Kmart too, but they really look like old lady shoes.

--Cute colors are quite hard to find. Walmart, Kmart, and even Reams have the very basic colors: Black, Navy, Dark Green, Royal Blue, Wine, Scarlet, Purple, Yellow. But JoAnn's [the superstore] has tons more to choose from. Aqua, Light Green, Fuchsia, etc. So you can try Walmart first and then if you aren't satisfied go to a craft store.

--Don't buy Kelly Green. It's a hoax! It turned out BLUE. Explain that one to me.

--Plastic gloves really aren't necessary, but they sure are fun! We went through 5 pair each for the first batch of dye, and then for the 6th batch [yep, I'm pro now] we didn't even touch them. So really, your choice.

--Mix everything together thoroughly. Purple seemed to have the hardest time mixing. It would leave dark spots and would never dissolve completely. You might want to just use half a package, especially with purple.

--Just follow the back of the package and have a fun time! Also, it's more fun when you have good friends to share it with, namely, my mom and little sis. :)

Canada Day!

I love Canada.

Here is my reasoning:
--Tyson 

--The Olympics

--Hockey 

--Northern Lights
--Michael Buble

--Tyson

--eh?

--"oot and aboot" 

--Cool last names

--Eskimos

--Did I say Tyson?

Anyway, I found out that July 1st is Canada Day, a.k.a. Canadian Independence Day and so a celebration was in order! I searched online for traditions pertaining to the day, but alas, parades and fireworks were the only things I uncovered. Lacking both I searched for something else to commemorate this great day.

So, I took my little sister shopping and we found "Canadian" things at the grocery store.

Pretty Canadian huh? I've been selling Canada Dry all week and have been ACHING to make it say "Canada Day". 

My dad's mission companion was Canadian and my dad once asked him, "What do Canadians call Canadian bacon?" He answered, "Uh,... ham?" Clearly Americans just like fancy names.

The maple leaf cookies were an added touch because we needed something else to add to the feast [of ham and ginger ale...]. They aren't exactly in the typical maple leaf shape, but it's close enough, eh? Pretty much I just started walking down the cookie aisle of Walmart to find something Canadian and stumbled across maple cookies. It's a win [and they were yuuuuuh-mmy!].

Because I had to work that night we celebrated Canada Day for lunch. The festivities began with a rousing chorus of "O, Canada" sung by my brother's iPod. We were feeling very patriotic by that point. Luckily the youtube version had the words so we could sing along.

Then we delved into great Canadian artists. The playlist went as follows:
Celine Dion--"My Heart Will Go On"
Bryan Adams--"Heaven"
Michael Buble--"Lost"
We also listened to Justin Beiber--"One Time" for a whole 2 minutes, but that was long enough. He is the one awful thing that came out of Canada.

We consumed our ham and cookies [yum?] and toasted Canada with our ginger ale.

A toast! To Bryan Adams, Michael Buble, and Celine Dion! [For reals.]

Kam asked me how to spell "Canada". So I told him.

Let it be known that my little bro and sis are awesome, because they put up with my Canadian obsession. Thanks for celebrating Canada day with me guys!

And to everyone else, I hope you had a Happy Canada Day!

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.]