sparkerly.com

April showers bring... more May showers, apparently.

So, a lot has happened in the past few weeks.  Some happy, some sad, some irritating, some mind-numbingly boring. I will try to put everything down here, so you can also have some mind-numbingly boring stuff happen to you, as well.

First, as the title of this post implies, it has been raining here like a cow pissing on a rock (to borrow a phrase from an ex-boyfriend, who was describing the weather in San Francisco right after he moved there).  Usually, by this time in May, we have our garden planted and are able to spend some time on our patio enjoying the beautiful weather.  This year, however, we'll have maybe one or two days where it's not 46 degrees and raining.  Why?!  What in the name of Al Gore have I done to you, Planet Earth!  (Besides driving a gas guzzling SUV to drive 2 miles to work and also stop recycling my glass because they moved the bins so now they're more than 1/2 block away)?  Cut it out, right now!

Secondly, we had to put Lucy down.  That's still kind of hard for me to talk about, so I'm just going to say I'll write an entire post about it later and we'll call it good for now.  Aight?

Third, I turned thirty-fucking-six last week.  How?  Why?  Whaaaa happened?  For my birthday present, Joel got me a Dyson cordless stick-vac.  I'm not ashamed to say that the first night we met, I brought it home and made sweet, sweet love to it and it's many attachments.  Ok, not really, but we totally tongue-kissed.  I cannot stress to you how much I love this vacuum, you guys.  There are no words to express my deep and abiding love for it.  One of my favorite parts is when I'm using it and the dogs get all worked up and start attacking it.  That is a pretty goddamn awesome side benefit.

Last night we had a dinner for a project I've been working on for the Women Lawyers of Utah.  It all came off very well and I think I need to write a more specific post about this, too.  It was a huge project, for which I was mainly in charge of merging letters and envelopes because I have mad MS-Word skillz, gained from my illustrious career as a secretary in my early 20s.  I also made nametags, again, because I know how to enter the right Avery label number in the label program. 

Funny story about that, though, I was trying to figure out how to print the text over a jpeg in each label and I finally did it, but put the computer away because it was kind of late.  Turns out, you probably won't remember much about how to do shit like that when you're a little tipsy, so you'll have to figure it out all over again the next morning.  Did I say that story was funny?  I meant "extremely dull."  Sorry, I always get those two things confused.

Until next time, dear reader, when I shall again regale you with delightful anecdotes from my very exciting and action-packed life... who am I kidding, I'm probably going to write about poop. 

This Is Why I'm Hot Weird.

Yeah, I'm watching Matlock right now. That's reason Numero Uno! Yes, Matlock was popular with old ladies in 1986, and now it's popular with ancient ladies who are lying in their hospital beds yelling at the nurse to "Turn up the volume because Ican't hear the Matlock and also change my diapers!"  But, it's also popular with me!  So popular, in fact, that I don't tell my DVR to record the series, I search for each episode and manually record it.  Now, before you ask, I don't know why I love Matlock.  It just IS.  Like the moon, or Kim Kardashian's ass (which can be the same thing under certain circumstances).  Hey-Oh!

Another reason I'm weird tonight is because I ate cheese for dinner.  I went to a lawyer thing after work and they had some finger-foods, but not the good kind (like chicken fingers).  They had some weird potatoe tarte squares with red pepper something and nut-stuffed dates (totally not what it sounds like.  They are actual dates with some kind of nut stuffed inside.  What?) wrapped in bacon.  Ok, so, first of all, BACON.  Secondly, I didn't know there were nuts in there and I thought I broke a tooth!  False alarm: it was some kind of nut.

But back to the cheese: so I came home from the thing and I thought, "I'm going to make some bacon for dinner." Then, when I went to get the bacon from the fridge, I saw my cheese and I was like, "Hmmm... cheese or bacon?"  Guess what I chose?  CHEESE!  Sorry for any of you who bet on bacon.  Normally that is a 100% sure thing, but cooking bacon tonight was just not in the cards.  I hope you didn't lose too much.  Who eats cheese for dinner?  Toddlers and Carrie, which, incidentally is an awesome name for a new show on TLC. 

Ok, so here is what I originally set out to write about: I'm weird because I don't like people I don't know.  Or, more specifically, I don't like when people I don't know think that they know me.  For example, I don't like when I go somewhere enough that people know what I'm going to order before I do it.  One time, a cashier at the liquor store said, "Have a nice day, Carrie" and I didn't go back to that store for more than six months.  I don't even think she actually knew my name; she got it from my drivers license.  But just the thought that she knew me scared me enough to hide from her for six months!  I still avoid her line when I go there!

I don't know why this bothers me so much.  I suppose it's part of my social anxiety.  I don't like to stick out.  I just want to blend in and make sure that the only people who know my bidness are people I want involved in my bidness.  Even if it's just a barista at Starbuck's knowing that I want a carmel macchiato.  Just let me order my sugary coffee drink and go!  I don't want to talk to you about your children when I pick up my prescription!  Yes, I see you like a million times a month, but just act like you don't know that I'm taking crazy pills!

This might come as a surprise to my friends, because I do seem very outgoing.  But I HATE meeting new people because I'm so horrible at small talk!  I'm so awkward and I feel like people don't get me, and then I'll say something that seems really strange and everyone is like "....."  Also, did I mention I'm awkward?  Because I am.  Joel thinks this is really funny.  Not like in a "HAH!" way, but in a "I have married a crazy person" way.  Sucks to be Joel!

So, if you don't know me and you see me on the street, just walk on by.  And, yes, I realize that I will have no way of knowing whether people know who I am, but are honoring my request to ignore me, or whether they are just people who don't know me.  We're just all going to pretend that you don't know me and we'll call it good, ok?  Ok!

Unless I'm drunk.  Because then I'm awesome and I'll talk your ear off about shit you don't care about and it won't matter because: it will be awesome and you will love it.  And then, the next time we're at a party, you'll come up to talk to me and I'll talk about the last episode of Matlock I saw, and you'll think I'm weird.

Yeah, so...

Has it almost been an entire year since I posted anything?  I believe it has.  I expected to come here and find some tumbleweeds blowing through an Old Western Ghost Town, like the one in that Brady Bunch episode where they go to the Grand Canyon and then they're put in jail (?) and I think this was when Cousin Oliver had been added to the cast and he was just horrible, right?  Of course, right!

I have been inspired, though, to blog again because of this awesome blog right here: Hyperbole and a Half.  This girl is hilarious and she has many good stories that have been distracting me from doing actual work all week.

Just to catch you up on the past year, I have: gone to Europe, tried out the Listen Up!, drunk wine, made hard cider, cooked a ham, drunk wine, watched almost the entire series of "Murder, She Wrote", gotten a new car, and adopted two dogs.  All of these are totally true!

I have not: won a million dollars, learned to teach new dogs how to not pee in the house (and Oh Sweet Baby Jesus, please someone get them to stop peeing in the house), had a baby, died, and showered.  I will let you all try to figure out which one of these is a lie.

And, so you know, the Listen Up! didn't work, like, at all.  It did, however, ensure that I could hear myself breathing, which is not really what it was supposed to do, but I guess it could be helpful in certain situations.  Like, if I died, I could use it to hear that I actually wasn't breathing, thereby confirming my death for myself.  It definitely did not allow me to hear my neighbors talking shit about me.  No, the bugs I've placed in all of their homes has really done a much better job than the Listen Up!, in that respect.

And, I'm spent.  To keep you entertained until next year, here are some photos that have amused me lately:

Odds and Ends

First off, I must apologize for not yet following through on the inaugural "Carrie Buys It" item, the Listen up.  For some unknown reason, the As Seen on TV website hasn't processed my order, nor am I aware that they have even received my order.  I will try to order it again or see if they have one down to the Walgreen's.  I think I really need one, too, because I can't hear a thing my husband says.  So, I'm either deaf or he mumbles every single word he speaks.  I'm partial to think it's his problem, but I'm sure he begs to differ.

Secondly, I think we are going to get BEES! but it won't be until next year because our back yard is in need of some major TLC and it's just not ready to house a bunch of bees.  We were out there yesterday and it is just a mess, you guys.  It looks like a bamboo bomb went off and the bamboo bomb was full of dog crap and gross old leaves.  We wanted to get some kind of wood chipper but they are super expensive.  Did you know this?  They are like $800 AND HUGE.  They have smaller, electric models that aren't as powerful, which is what we'll end up getting.  Until then, if you need bamboo, dog crap, or leaves, you know who to call.

Finally, I saw an article on-line today that had examples of the dumbest inventions ever.  There are a few, however, with which I disagree.  For example:

Busy as a Bee

So, busy week, you guys.  Last week I spent most of the week writing an appeal.  This week, I'm spending most of the week writing an appeal.  Next week: nothing!  Well, I have a hearing.  And it's our anniversary.  Three whole years and Joel is still putting up with me.  And they said it couldn't be done.  By "they" I mean my family.  Have I told you how they thank Joel for taking me off their hands?  Literally, they THANK HIM for marrying me.  As well they should.  I'm horrible to live with.

Now that it's starting to move towards Spring (thank all that is holy) I am starting to think about our yard. We don't really have a front yard.  It's a couple of big flowerbeds and I, having never owned a house or yard or flowerbed, have no idea how to care for it.  The people who owned our house before we did were gardeners and we... well, we are not.  No, that's not exactly true.  I am not.  I want to be, but I have been known to kill cacti before.  These plants that can live in the unforgiving heat of the desert will be killed by my complete ineptitude at caring for plants.

Joel, however, has had gardens and flowers and all of that before.  His family is very interested in flowers and plants and the Earth and shit.  Last year we had a pretty cool garden.   We had tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, yellow squash, and some cantaloupes (which I grew on a trellis and which were also AWESOME). This year we're going to have tomatoes (of course), garlic, peas, cucumbers, acorn squash, onions, and, perhaps, BEES!

Joel has been talking about getting a beehive and raising bees since last summer after we visited his brother in Portland.  Honestly, I wasn't too sure about how I felt about it, but I love me some honey, so I'm willing to do it.  Apparently, it's expensive, but there are some companies that will allow you to keep their beehive on your property and then you get to have all of the benefits of bees without the hassle of having all of that delicious honey.  Imagine that! 

Any concerns about raising bees?  I know I got stung on the forehead once and I swelled up like the Elephant Man, but everything I'm hearing is that bees are our friends and if the bees die, WE ALL DIE.  So, really, we'd just be doing our part to save the planet.  I mean, we don't really recycle, so we have to do something, right?  What say you, internets?  Should we raise some baby bees?  Or should we just let the entire Earth turn into a giant desert, devoid of flowers?  Either way, I'm bound to kill whatever grows, so I'm good.

Home again, home again...

Huzzah!  I'm back from Portland with a bit of a sunburn (natch) and a lot of R&R under my ever-expanding belt.  It was a fun trip and, just like all of my illogical fears, my office did not explode without me.  Phew!  In fact, while there was a pile of stuff on my chair when I got here this morning, it wasn't the mountain of crap that I was expecting.  Even though my hearings did not go over as well as I thought they would (or should have), everything is going to be ok!

Here are some things I learned on my trip:

• Never wear that green shirt for anything but yard work or bumming around the house ever again.  Especially do not take pictures of self while wearing that shirt. 
• Always rent a car when your husband is 6' 6" and your hosts drive a 1994 Saturn sedan and a 2005 Toyota CRV.  He will not fit!
• If you are staying with someone for 6 days and nights, get a hotel room for at least 3-4 days, both for your sanity and that of your hosts.
• Beer festivals, wherever they may be, are awesome.  Beer festivals that include 80 different craft beers, including watermelon beer, toasted coconut beer, several raspberry beers, and (my favorite) a dark hefeweizen are even awesomer.
• Your tall husband will not fight someone just because that person is taller than he is, no matter how many times you tell him he should.  He just will not do it.  Because he is lame.
• You can get sunburned when it is cloudy and 65 degrees at the beach.
• The Tillamook Cheese Factory is, perhaps, the best damn place on the planet Earth.

We actually took a lot of pictures, which I will try to post later this week.  I visited my friend Rachel during this trip and she told me that I need to post more pictures on my blog, so I will try to take her advice.  Of course, when she told me this, I said that I already knew I needed more pictures, but it's just too hard to get them from the camera to the computer... there are so many wires (there's 1) and it takes so long to upload them (it takes, like, 5 minutes) so, really, you can see why I wouldn't want to post a lot of pictures.  Yeah, we'll see how that goes.

Now, get back to work!!

Vacation Schmaycation

We're going on a trip!  Tomorrow evening, Joel and I will head out to Portland, OR to visit Joel's brother and his brother's husband.  I'm sure it will be a very fun trip and I already have researched a ton of stuff to do (including a BEER FESTIVAL, about which I almost peed myself with excitement when I found out it was happening the weekend we're there) and I'm excited to see my brothers-in-law.  So, that's that... except... I'm filled with dread about it.  Not the trip itself, because I think that will be fun, but I'm filled with dread about what will be going on here while I'm gone.

When we planned this trip all the way back in April, I had nothing going on.  Just business as usual.  However, May, June, and July have just been SLAMMED and it doesn't show any signs of slowing down.  Add this to the fact that I inadvisedly scheduled two hearings first thing in the morning the day after I get back, and you get an anxiety-ridden Carrie who just knows that the shit-storm facing her when she returns may not be worth the actual taking of the vacation.  I'm going to do my best to just let it all go, but it's hard.

This may have to do with the fact that the last time I went on a trip to Portland, I got fired from my job 3 days after getting back.  I doubt this will happen at my current place of employment, but the fear still lingers; the fear that I'll have forgotten something really important, something that only I can take care of or I'm the only one who can remember or I'm the only one who knows anything about it because I forgot to write notes or tell someone about it... because apparently I'm the center of the office universe and nothing can be done without me.

But, this isn't true at all!  There are very fine people here who can pretty much do anything I can do (better), but the worry is still there.  The anxiety about it is just sitting in the back of my head, smoking a cigarette, waiting until the most inopportune time to bust out with a panic attack.  I don't know if I'll be able to forget about what's happening at the office while I'm hanging out at the replica of Stonehenge, but I'm going to give it my best shot.  I think the beer will help.  And I hear Oregon has some pretty awesome wine country, too... maybe it won't be so bad after all?  In fact, I think I have a solution: never come home.  Right?  No?  Damn.

See you in a week!

You might have noticed

that I haven't posted anything since April.  No?  Just me?  But I have excuses:

1. Our computer broke and so the only time I really have a computer is at work, and you know how much I hate to write blog posts at work. 
2. Speaking of work: it's busy.  I'm writing pretty much all of th appeals we're doing, which means I'm writing two to three 20 page memos a month.  After all that writing, sometimes my brain hurts and tries to escape from my head, so I have to stare at the wall until I can form a sentence.  I've also been doing more hearings, which... let's just say they aren't my favorite.
3. We have a house and a yard and a garden that I have to neglect.  That's a lot of neglect, you guys!  It takes me all day sometimes!  There is so much laying around to do at home that I almost can't even get it all done by myself.  And god knows my husband isn't going to help me with it!  What with his, "Hey, Carrie, let's go pull weeds!" and "Carrie, it's a beautiful day outside!  Let's go on a walk!"  It's insufferable, really.
4. I am doing absolutely nothing and, thus, I have a distinct lack of subject matter about which I can blog.  I've also found that other people's blogs are much more interesting than mine, so I've been spending my time looking at those instead of doing it myself.

Trying to Rent Out Our Condo:

It's like dating, but without the possibility of sex at the end of the night.  Unless you're like I was, and then it's pretty much exactly like dating.

Here's the thing.  We've been trying to rent out our (empty, mortgage laden) condo for about a month and have yet to have anyone even return an application for it.  Plenty of people come and look but, for whatever reason, we haven't had any luck.  There was one promising guy: good job, married, responsible, looking to move fairly soon.  His job was even moving their office about a block away from our building.  Could be more perfect for him?  Apparently, it could because he has completely blown us off.  Won't respond to e-mails asking if he's still interested and telling him that we're decreasing the rent.  We even offered to give him a discount on the first month's rent!  And yet, nothing!

It's the same for other people we've shown it to.  They come to see it and they are all enthusiastic and think it's great and... then weeks go by and they never call.  They never write.  They want to see other apartments.  They're just not looking to commit to something right now.  They're just interested in renting a condo that has bigger boobs.  You know the drill: It's not us, it's them.  And, while something like this is not as confusing and infuriating as it is when it happens romantically, it is pretty damn close.

I mean, we are all adults here.  If you aren't interested, just let me know!  I won't come and key your car or send an e-mail to your coworkers telling them you gave my condo the clap!  I won't show up at your new place and cry about how you never really gave our condo a chance!  Seriously, just tell me you don't want what I'm selling and I will leave you alone. 

But don't come crying to me in 2 months saying that you're sorry and you do want to rent the condo after all and you should have realized what a kick-ass deal it is.  You had your chance, and now you will just have to live with the fact that your new place doesn't have central air, high ceilings, granite counter tops, new appliances and an amazing view of downtown.  You'll just have to put up with the shitty freeway and public transportation access that you have in your new place.  You made your bed in a different apartment, and you will just have to sleep in it!  Unless our condo is still vacant, and then I will totally take you back.  Because, when times are tough, I'll take it where I can get it.  Again, just like when I was dating.

"There was alcohol involved..."

I said this at lunch today whilst recounting the story of when I met my friend Melanie's husband (who was her boyfriend at the time), Corey.  You see, Melanie introduced Corey to the group and I immediately piped up, "Hey Forrest!  Nice to meet you!"  After hearing this story, my co-workers looked at me and one asked, "How did you mistake 'Corey' for 'Forrest''?"  My answer?  "Well, there was alcohol involved."

And that got me thinking.  Do all of my interesting and/or funny stories have something to do with alcohol?  I know that anything happening prior to the age of 23 didn't, as I didn't take my first sip of alcohol until I was 23.  For instance, there was that one time I got lice from the beds at summer camp.  Or when I said the F-word and my mom found out and almost killed me.  Or... yeah, I don't have too many entertaining stories to tell from that period of my life.

Post-alcohol Carrie, though, seems to have a bevy of stories that delight and entertain audiences around the world!  That is, if my parents aren't in the audience; I don't think they'd be too delighted to hear some of these particular stories.

Like the time that I had come back to Utah after spending my last semester of law school in Las Vegas and I had gone to a party and I was cold, so I was (creepily) asking people to lay on top of me to keep me warm.  Hilarious!  Everybody loves that one!

Or when I went to visit a friend in Boise and conned my way into getting a free hot dog with the works from Sam the hot dog vendor!  Then, a couple of years later, seeing Sam on the streets of Boise again and getting ANOTHER free hot dog.  That is how charming I am when I'm a little lubricated, my friends.  (Also, big boobs don't hurt, as far as hot dog vendors go.)

Then, that one time in law school when I went to a party and ___________ and then I ___________ and then my friend fell off the porch and we all lost it.  (I left those blanks in there because you could pretty much fill them in with any number of crazy scenarios and you would have a pretty accurate account of any law school party I attended.)

Oooo!  Or when a couple of co-workers and I took the "fun" bus to Wendover (Nevada, about 1.5 hours from Salt Lake) and I won $450 playing craps.  Some guy, who was trying to pick me up, was putting down money for me and letting me keep all the chips.  This little excursion paid for a big chunk of my rent that month, in addition to allowing me to buy a very soft dark blue fake-fur coat, which still hangs in my closet to this day.  Good times, you guys. 

I could go on, but I don't want you to get the idea that I can only have fun if I have a couple of drinks.  Not true!  I was completely sober for my wedding, and that was the best day of my life!  I have fun every day at work and I'm never drunk there (for the most part)!  Kidding!  See?  I'm just as funny without a buzz on! 

However, I think that if you do ever get a chance to make some memories with Tipsy-Carrie, you should totally do it.  Drunk-Carrie is fun, too, but she can get a little messy... and handsy.  Yeah, just stick with Tipsy-Carrie and you should be on your way to some awesome stories of your very own.  YOU'RE WELCOME.