Saturday, November 5th - Oy

Twas the hour before kickoff and all through Rice Eccles

All the fans had donned black and prepared their best heckles

The Horned Frogs were coming, ranked number three

We hoped the Utes would emerge victoriously

The crowd was in place, the fight song had been sung

We were ready for our team to tackle, pass and run

The ball was kicked off and the crowd seemed to swell

And then that dumb game went completely to…..

Normally I keep my sports thoughts to my sports blog...but this post isn't going to be focused on the game (because I'm still not really ready to talk about it). It's more a Philosophical musing about large sporting events and why we attend (like lambs to the slaughter in some cases).

The game last week allowed me to get a little perspective on the strange customs and rituals that are such a part of our sporting experiences. For example, by the end of the third quarter there was clearly no hope for a comeback (no matter how many bad habits I insisted I was willing to give up for a little divine intervention) and an interesting thing happened. The crowd seemed totally separated from the team on the field. Normally at these games it feels like we're all on the same team, willing the people who actually play on with our yells and dances and chants etc. 

Then, the 'Crazy Lady' (picture here) got up to do her dance that she always does and for the first time, she literally seemed crazy. I sat there and realized that this was actually just a woman, dancing in front of 40,000 people, just because she always does.In the context of a football game it always seemed like a cool tradition....sort of the older generation of fans (her) reaching out and showing the new kids (the MUSS) how its done. But on Saturday, by the time she got up to do her thing, there really wasn't a game going on, and I found myself sitting amidst a bunch of strangers watching an old lady dance. 

I suppose it was more realistic this way. Normally we have some illusions about our importance as fans, and our involvement in the wins, and we have a feeling of being a part of 'the team'. But in this game there were no such illusions. There was all this pent-up energy and nowhere to use it (except for booing our quarterback and yelling at the coaches and walking back to our cars).

Inkiversary

I was told it would hurt

And that I'd feel like dirt

And that it meant I was going astray

And that I'd regret it someday

However, on this date

One year late-r

I think

My ink

Rocks

And it puts me outside the box

I still love the quote

And I'll end on that note. 

The New Apartment

I've been living in a new apartment for about a month now. We moved here because we thought it would be a great place to live during the great Spring weather (which has yet to appear here yet...we had snow a few days ago). It's got a pool and lots of grass to lay around on. However, after staying at the Stein Eriksen Lodge last week, I realized what a dump our apartment is. And I decided to document it.

Our roommate Becky, whose TV we have been using for two years, moved somewhere else so we were left with my TV. I thought it would be perfectly adequate, but when we set it up...well the screen is about as big as a computer screen. We have to squint to see the ball when watching the NBA finals, and whenver any writing shows up (most often in the after-stories at the end of movies, ie: so and so went on to own a store in Bluffton) we all have to get about ten inches from the TV to be able to read it. A picture is worth a thousand words, but I think this picture just needs one word: pathetic.

We were actually fairly excited about the couches here, they look a lot softer than the ones we came from. However we soon discovered that upon sitting on them, you sink to the point of drowning.

The bathroom is doable. The toilet necessitates an unnatural observation of one's own waste as it doesn't completely flush about once in every ten flushes. You'll notice in this picture that the outlets in the sink area are oddly positioned. We're curious what electrician thought that putting the outlets immediately below the lights, barely within the reach of shorter people like me, was a good idea. I don't enjoy being reminded of my lack of height every morning as I go to plug in my hair dryer.

There is another lighting mystery in the bedrooms. Apparently the electrician also decided that only one of the two occupants deserved decent light, so he decided to put the fixture on one side, right up against the wall. I lucked out with the lit side of our room, but it is absolutely blinding in the morning.

The kitchen is small, but that's very doable as there are just three of us. The biggest problem is the absence of a dishwasher. It's sort of a wash-and-use situation at this point. If you need a spoon you've got to dig through the sink, find one, and wash it. But we don't really have anything to dry them after we wash them, so I've been using a clean t-shirt. We also decided to actually cook something after things settled down from the move-in. We wanted to make a chicken dish in the oven, but we realized we had no pans to put in the oven, and nothing to pull hot dishes out of the oven with. We bought some cheap stuff at Smiths but only the minimum. We made quiche (baked in an alumnum pie tin we got for 93 cents) and muffins last week. Instead of springing for a muffin tin we bought the cupcake liners, put them on an old cookie sheet, and poured the batter in. It worked well enough that I may never invest in a muffin tin!

The last, and possibly most irritating aspect of our apartment is the noise. We live right above the lounge of our complex, and there is a piano in the lounge. We have to deal with people pounding away at all hours of the day. I woke up to someone playing Phantom of the Opera (not well) and singing along! We also live on the pool, which we thought was brilliant. We'd have easy access, we'd have a good view of whoever was hanging out there, what could be bad about this? However we soon learned about the pool gate. It's this big iron thing that closes automatically behind people as they enter or exit. However, if they don't slow it down before it closes it BANGS shut and shakes our whole apartment. The heater vent drowns out most of the talking and yelling at the pool but there is NOTHING that will muffle the noise of that gate.

Thankfully only three more weeks of this place.

Hot Tub

I currently have the great pleasure of staying at the Stein Eriksen Lodge in Deer Valley, UT for a work event. The Stein is one of the premier ski resorts in the world (top 10 in the U.S. according to Forbes magazine, top 500 hotels in the world according to Travel & Leisure magazine). As you come up the main drive you pass U.S. and Norwegian flags waving against the backdrop of the gorgeous mountains covered with pine trees and some with snow. Needless to say, I love this place.

Upon my arrival, I discovered that I had a hot tub out on the deck of my room, with a fabulous view of the mountains. So, although I had not brought appropriate hot tub attire, I felt obligated to take advantage of such luxurious accommodations. After dinner, I fired her up, turned on some appropriate 'sit-in-the-hot-tub-and-look-at-the-view-music', (a little Frank Sinatra and one of my favorites, 'As Time Goes By' from Casablanca), disrobed and climbed up the steps to get in. It took me minute to get comfortable, I had to ease into the heat, and I was enjoying taking my sweet time getting in. I thought my balcony was pretty secluded, however, the road that led to the service entrance for the hotel was below me, and as I was taking my sweet time, a car drove up the service road. Feeling COMPLETELY exposed, I practically dove into the hot tub for cover and scalded every inch of my body. After that fun experience I realized that leaving the lights on on the balcony was probably not the best move, so I checked for approaching cars, and ran quickly to turn all the lights, every last switch I could see, off. (It was pitch black outside and any light on on the inside drew attention to my area.)

I floated around in the hot tub for awhile, although I must admit I've never really understood the point. I turned on the jets but they kept pushing me around the hot tub, I couldn't just sit and relax while being buffeted about like that. So I turned them off, but then I felt silly, I might as well be in the bath if I was just going to sit, less chlorine and I could get clean. So I turned them back on, and braced myself so that I remained stationary, despite the jet flow. I lasted about ten minutes, but I was bored and hot. So I got out, put on my robe and slippers, and went to go put the cover back on. 

However, in my haste to remove the cover I had let it slide to the side of the hot tub, and attempting to lift it between the edge of the balcony and the hot tub from the side was not working. I could lift it high enough on one side to get it over the hot tub but the other side of the cover would be stuck against the balcony. It was sort of stuck and there was only one solution: I would have to get back in the hot tub and lift it back on using the handle in the middle. So I disrobed again, and climbed back in. I had to stand on the edge of the hot tub, balancing precariously near the edge of both the tub and the balcony, to lift the cover high enough. So there I was, in my hot tub attire, or lack thereof, standing on the edge of the hot tub, high up on my balcony, pulling on this cover, when another car comes driving by on the service road. I couldn't have been more visible if I'd lit off a flare! When I had gotten out the first time I had turned on the light to make it easier to see the cover, but of course, did not think to dim it again when getting back in. I was horrified once again and dropped immediately back into the hot tub, pulling the cover with me. Thankfully only half of it closed so I wasn't completely stuck. But I stayed down for a good five minutes, half waiting to hear a honk from the car below (clearly an over-estimation of my impact on the driver). Then I started envisioning walking around the hotel the next day as people sniggered to each other "Is that the one from 218...the one with the hot tub?" Oh I felt sick.

When I woke up this morning I started to think that I hadn't been seen. But when I went back to my room for a half hour this afternoon a man stopped by to 'check my hot tub'. Lesson learned: hot tubs on balconies - only to be used with appropriate attire.

Perspective

Last week I was talking to my sister, well actually attempting to ask her to pickup her toys. She was not responding well and I made the comment that she needed to go to bed earlier because she was being grumpy. Her reply completely caught me off guard. She glared at me for a second and stomped up the stairs as she said: "It's not because of when I go to sleep, it's because I don't have a good life!"

At first it just made me laugh and I couldn't believe I was related to such a drama queen. Then I realized just how off her perspective was. Now, I am wondering about mine.

She demeaned her entire existence all because she was required to pickup a few toys. I like to think of myself as pretty undramatic, completely above such overstatements. However I have started to wonder about the little things that upset me or get me off-track, and how silly they'll seem in twenty years. I have to believe that my hundred-page reading assignment will be no more significant than picking up a few toys.

While I may not usually be as blunt as Lucy and go so far as to say that I don't have a good life, I think my behavior and thought process may communicate a similar message. I like to think that this is a problem that lessens with age, so that my perspective is at least a little more accurate than Lucy's. But I have a feeling that my twenty-one year-old issues are no less ridiculous than her five year-old issues.

Least Favorite Thing? Fiber One

I did a 'favorite things' post....but that was awkward for me. I'm not naturally a positive, tell-the-world-about-the-things-I-like-type person. Unfortunately talking about, discussing, criticizing, and generally ridiculing the things I don't like - now that rolls right off my tongue. Today some co-workers of mine reminded me of something I really dislike: Fiber One.

They lure you in with the healthy buzz word 'Fiber'. You think hey, I am supposed to have twice as much fiber in my diet (according to WebMD). Some brilliant doctors even recommend fiber to help with weight loss, so you think hey! Healthy weight loss! Brilliant! Sign me up!

So you eat some Fiber One products, expecting to avoid constipation and lose weight. Well duh you're going to lose weight when your entire system empties itself out in one day! Fiber One makes your digestive system a veritable slip 'n slide! Who wants to spend more time at work on the porcelain chair than in the office chair? Who wants to have to plan every hour of their day so that a clean, flushing toilet is never more than two minutes away? I once ate four Fiber One muffins in a day (not all in one sitting mind you, just throughout the day I would grab one of the muffins that was sitting on my counter, not knowing that they were Fiber One muffins) and I couldn't do anything to stop my digestive system for a week!

My experience with Fiber One products? Not good, and my experience has been corroborated by several people I know. It's like taking a chewy (in the case of the Fiber One bars) or crunchy (in the case of the cereals) laxative! It will open your eyes to the amount of crap (literally) that is inside your body by cleaning it all right out of you. If people were meant to eat that much fiber, we'd be herbivores who just ate grains all day....like horses!

Now I understand that there are situations which may call for desperate digestive relief, but at the very least I think the following warning should appear on each and every Fiber One label so no unsuspecting people with normal digestive systems are turned inside-out by this stuff:


WARNING: Not to be consumed in large quantities unless a SERIOUS blockage is impeding your digestive abilities. If consumed unnecessarily, leakage may occur. Fiber One is not responsible for any ruined undergarments, emotional damage to other human beings in your vicinity, or mental problems that may result from spending an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom.

You're better off with Fiber NONE than Fiber One!

April 9th, 2005 - A Defining Moment

An event doesn’t become a defining moment as a result of its gravity or scale, but rather through the change in direction it elicits. The approach of my younger sister's 5th birthday made me reflect on one of those defining moments....

During dinner one night in the Fall of my sophomore year, my parents gave me the most horrific news I had ever received. My mother was pregnant. Again. I am not typically an emotional person, but after a few minutes, I couldn’t restrain myself. A sort of shocked disbelieving laughter quickly turned into quiet sobbing, and then bawling so uncontrollable I had to leave the table and sprint up to my room. I already had four younger brothers, and I didn’t need or want any more siblings. Two years earlier my mom had had a baby, and with the emotional highs and lows that come with pregnancy coupled with the stress of taking care of four other kids, I just tried to stay out of my mom’s way for a year. I wasn’t really prepared for another year of exile in my room.
 
Once I finished venting about how the baby was “ruining my life before it was even born,” I was able to calm down and the dark cloud of doom seemed to pass from over my head, although doom clouds typically don’t stray far from teenagers. Then came the ultrasound; that highly anticipated image which appears to be a big blob of black and gray shadows but somehow reveals whether the child will be donning rosy pink or baby blue upon its arrival. It turned out pink was the color that would be invading our house for the next few years.

Having had four brothers and not one sister, this news was supposed to thrill me. However, the doom cloud came roaring back and I lost control. I went on a rampage with a green highlighter and left my mark everywhere. The florescent green words “Stupid Baby” appeared all over everything on our refrigerator, including and especially the ultrasound pictures.  I was swiftly and heavily reprimanded but my feelings remained unchanged. I had always been the only girl, the favorite daughter and sister, carving out my own place among a frenzy of brothers. Now there would be a new girl, sure to be everyone’s favorite if for no other reason than her age. She could be everything I was not. She could be the perfect girly girl and love getting her hair done. She could be the loving “huggy” type and be a star in some athletic endeavor, or even worse, she could be into dancing. My new "sister", I could barely choke out the word, could be my replacement.

The pregnancy months dragged on and finally in April, the “blessed” day arrived. The morning I was set to take the ACT, I got a phone call at 6:45am from my dad saying I had a healthy baby sister. All through the test I kept thinking, “Baby messing up my life phase two… post-pregnancy.” I finally got up to the hospital around two o’clock and was able to hold the baby that had been the object of all my resentment. Something I discovered at that moment: it’s absolutely impossible to be upset at a newborn baby. By no means did I have an epiphany moment where all my feelings of anger left me, but I slowly began to change my tune about the new addition to the family.

Having a sister sixteen years my junior has not been a cakewalk. Whenever I used to fill out forms that asked what language was spoken most in my home I looked for the box that said “Baby Talk”, but for some reason it was never an option. Whenever I tell people about my family and I mention George and Lucy (my youngest brother and sister) at the end, I always get questions like, “Oh, do your grandparents live with you?” and after I reply no but before I can explain they ask, “Oh do you have dogs or something?” Once again I must reply “no” and proceed to explain. I’ve changed enough diapers to fill an entire dumpster. My world has been flooded with more shades of pink than I knew existed.

Despite these and other drawbacks however, it has been nice to arrive home from school and have little person run up to meet me. It has been nice to have an ever-present source of entertainment to turn to between the long hours of school, work, and schoolwork. I learned first-hand the benefits of laughing rather than crying over spilled milk.

Nothing ever turns out the way you think it will; life’s full of surprises and change is inevitable. All the old adages are true. I just wish I would have realized it earlier. I learned a valuable lesson in the importance of rolling with the punches. Sometimes what appear to be punches turn out to be simple pushes in the right direction.