Letter of Complaint.

Dear McDonald's,
Please hire people who speak fluent English.
Sincerely, I Just Want a McDouble with Mac Sauce and Fries.

Oh, you little BYU folks

"So. You single?" he leaned over the desk seductively.

"Ah, no, actually," I replied. "I'm not."

He glanced quickly at my left hand resting on the keyboard, attempting to be discreet but making it totally obvious.

"I don't see a ring," he accused.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "That doesn't mean I'm available," Just stop, please. Can't you tell I'm not interested?

"Oh. Are you just waiting for it, then?" He leaned closer. I could see the the gel clumped in his stiff hair.

"No," I huffed, trying hard to not look annoyed. "I'm just not single." I turned my attention back to my computer.

He paused for a second, debating on whether to keep prying.

He did.

"So, when will you get it?" He smirked.

I gaped at him, my mouth hanging open. This kid was unbelievable. Before I could answer, the elevator door opened.

"Your ride is here." I stood and gestured towards the doors.

"Can I get your number? You know, just in case?" He said the last three words in a sing-song voice as he backed into the elevator. The confident yet hopeful smile he flashed was almost too much.

My irritation flared and I took a deep breath to cool it off. I watched him as the elevator doors closed slowly. With one eyebrow raised and my arms folded I answered, smiling icily, "No. Thank you."

He asked again when he left.

I pretended to be caught up on the phone.

What is it with those crazed BYU RMs?

And I had Hagermann's for lunch. Just thought you should know that.

It's the End of the World

Doors open.

Toilets flush.

Faucets run.

Paper towels are dispensed.

Blinds open.

Stairs move.

Even sidewalks move.

I get confused all the time. Will the door open for me, or will I have to physically move it? Will I find out before I run into the glass and look like an idiot?

I'm pretty sure this is the beginning of the end. When society is too lazy to open their own doors or even flush their own toilets, there is a huge problem.

(And, yes, I do understand that sometimes people do not flush, and I am incredibly grateful for automatic flushers in those situations.)

I'm still geekin' out about it.

That's all.

Pet Peeve #564

I'm no photographer.

In fact, I barely know anything about photography.

Okay, wait. That's a lie.

I have two cameras. Both are old. One is antique. Film (beautiful, beautiful film). A Canon Rebel and a Nikon Nikkormat.

I know a bit about photography. The basics. (Basically.) Thanks to my amazing experiences assisting an amazing photographer and friend. I know enough to get me started.

The first thing I ever learned on this subject was

how to hold the camera.

This doesn't matter if you're using a wimpy point-and-shoot.

But if you actually have a decent camera, at least carry it correctly so you don't look like a total fool.

Swype

My phone is kind of stupid. Just kind of. It "fixes" certain words when I'm texting.

Examples:

first = foist

since = dobber

you = yo

how = hire

see = sewer

deliberately = depardieu (Uhhhhh what? What does that even mean?)

that's = thumbs

sweater = aereate

music = justice

people = purple

not = boy

(and, last but not least...)

bonnie = boner

It's obvious how this could be a problem.

It's Not Me, it's You: A How-To on Perfecting the Art of Being a Sucky Date

Picture this: she's waiting anxiously, pacing around her apartment. She'll check her watch once, twice, and again. How late are you? Twenty minutes now? Great. You could have given some notice, but why waste your time with a simple, short, courteous phone call? She glances at the mirror once more to make sure she still looks as fantastic as she did the last time she checked (about fourteen seconds ago). Yep. You finally get to her apartment complex and call her from your car, letting her know you're there and would she please come out to your car so you don't have to park? You wait in your car, irritated that it's taking her so long to walk. Josh Groban blares from the speakers (she'll think that's so cool). She opens her own door and slides into the passenger seat.
Great beginning, right? Wrong. You suck at dating. But that's okay, you've accepted it. You're just awesome and it's okay to waste her time. She's isn't really happy about your tardiness, though, so you should probably make up for it by taking her to a really neat restaurant like The Mayan or Bombay House. But...those restaurants can be pricey. You're not really looking to spend too much dough tonight, so suggest that she order something small. That way the meal will cost less and she'll be left feeling self conscious. It'll be great. Even better, rush through dinner and snarf your food like an animal. Don't give her very much time to enjoy her food, even though it just might be delicious. Flirt with the waitress when she brings your check, and slip her your number on the way out. Your date will appreciate your suavity. Really.
Take your date to a really, really sucky movie. Forget to buy tickets in advance so you have to drive twenty minutes to a different theater. Try not to notice that she's trying really hard to impress you and make the night go well, despite your previous lack of tact. While watching the sucky movie, make repeated attempts to hold her hand, ignoring her repeated requests that you restrain yourself. Because, after all, what kind of a girl wouldn't want to hold your hand? You're awesome, and you make sure everyone knows it.
When the sucky movie finally ends, drive your date home in silence. Maybe you're contemplating the film. Maybe you're focusing on the road. Maybe you're tired. Maybe you just plain don't want to talk. She'll be trying her best to carry a conversation with you, but make sure she knows you're determined to make her feel as awkward as possible. One word answers are key, friend. Make her squirm. She'll loathe you. The thought will make you giggle inwardly with wicked delight.
A few blocks from her apartment, suddenly realize that you're running late for something. Drop her off at the Trax station, okay? Try not to show any concern about her impending hike home in the dark downtown streets. Just assume she'll be fine. Bad stuff only happens to other people, remember? The terrifying walk will just toughen her up. She'll thank you later. Don't call or text her later to make sure she got home safely, either. If something happens, you'll hear about it on the news tomorrow morning.
Be completely confident that your date went really, really well. So well, in fact, you should follow that stupid rule and wait at least three days before contacting the girl at all. Keep her in suspense. She'll like you that much more for it. I promise. Just be sure to talk to her at least once before the next time you see her. It'll be awkward if you don't.
Text her a few days later (notice I said to text, not call) and ask her if she'd like to go see another sucky movie next weekend. Be surprised when she turns you down, but accept her pathetic excuses of having plans with friends or going out of town for the entire weekend. Be very persistent and keep asking her out. Get really irritated when she keeps making excuses. Make sure she notices your irritation; be cold and indifferent. Eventually you should stop talking to her altogether. Ignore her when you see her and act like it's such a big deal. Maybe even go so far as to tell all your friends to avoid that girl.
After all, she was a sucky date.