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Today, in the spirit of Barbara, I thought I'd write up a little story documenting what happened to me in the elevator the other day... By the way, Barbara is a good friend of mine who writes the most geniusly (is that even a word?) funny stories about her life and posts them on her MySpace Blog.
I work in an office complex. My company only owns the second floor, and down in the basement of this building, there are some tunnels that connect this building with the others in the complex. In these tunnels there are vending machines. So it's close to midafternoon, and I was feeling the need for some chocolate. I get my dollar bill and head to the basement via the elevator. As I get to the basement, there's a subdued ringing sound, and I think, "That's never happened before. I wonder what that sound is? So I'm looking around, and I realize that the emergency voicebox is ringing. About the same time I realize what it is, the ringing stops and some woman says, "Hello? Hello?"
I say, "Hi?"
"Is this Woodlands?" She asks.
"Yes, but it's the elevator."
"But is this Woodlands?"
"Yes, but you've called the elevator."
"I'm looking for Woodlands."
"Well, you've called the building, but you're talking to me through the emergency phone on the elevator." She must be a few crayons short if she's not getting this...
"I'd like to speak to reception please."
"I'm really sorry, but there are no buttons on this phone, and even if there were, I don't know the number for reception."
"But could you please just give me reception"
Very slowly: "You've.. called... the... emergency... phone... in.. the... elevator." How many times do I have to tell this woman?
It seems to dawn on her that I don't have the means to help her. And by now I've been to the basement, and then ridden the elevator all the way up to the 7th floor and stopped to let people on and off. They must think I'm a total nutcase, talking to the voicebox.
"I've just called the number in the phonebook," she says.
"Well," I say. "Maybe you should try information, instead, because this is the wrong number, clearly."
"Okay, but could you give me the reception desk?"
Seriously? ELEVATOR! There was no way to hang up on the lady, so I pushed the Basement button and wrode the rest of the way down listing to her say, "Hello? Hello? Is this Woodlands? Is anyone there? I need Reception."
I took the stairs back up.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
I need a friend
This morning, as I was hanging out somewhere between being asleep and getting up, I composed this awesome blog inside my head. It was all about Seasonal Affective Disorder, which I think I have, and my apology to anyone I may have offended with my last blog. Of course, with all great things composed at just such a time, that amazing piece of literature has disappeared into the nether reaches of half sleep. So I'll do my best to get the general ideas across...
I made some sweeping geralities a couple of days ago. As with every situation in which stereotypes are made, there are a number of people who don't fit. Please, if you live in Utah, don't take offense. I am simply frustrated with the fact that, since I graduated from school, I've not met anyone that understands me. I generally feel more irritated with life when it's cold outside, and lately, it's been so cold it can't snow.
I'm still feeling incredibly isolated. Last night, for example, my friends and I decided to watch a movie, and we all threw titles out there, and vetoed each other's suggestions. Finally, I got frustrated and went to take a shower. When I came back they had started a movie I had previously vetoed. This happens all the time. Earlier last week, I wanted to make this great, healthy, orange chicken recipe for dinner, but my friend/roommate, with whom I share groceries, really wanted Chinese Chiken Salad, so we had that instead.
My roommates don't even know me.
I can't be myself, or do things I want to do, because I'm concerned with the feelings of my roommates and friends. We do things they choose, and listen to music they like, and eat where they like the menu. I like Star Trek, Alias, podcasting, classical music, playing video games, reading when it's cold outside, and going to the movies. But I can't like any of that stuff around them because they look at me like I'm a geek or a little kid, like "Nicki, you should have grown out of that stuff years ago." I mentioned once to them that I used to go to movies all the time by myself, because I like movies, and they kept acting like I was nuts. Last night I thought about being forceful, and voicing my opinions a little more explosively, but since I've never done that with these girls before, I thought I might alienate them. Because, of course, after all is said and done, they are my only real close friends in Ogden. So instead, we watched a movie I didn't want to watch, and afterwards, I went downstairs and threw a silent temper-tantrum. And in my frustration, I did a load of laundry because I had no clean jeans to wear to work today. But I wasn't focused, so I didn't remember that my now useless cell phone was in the pocket of my jeans until this morning, when I pulled my clothes out of the dryer... Just one more thing to add to the growing haystack I'm carting around I guess.
Then I got to thinking about my mood and how I never feel this frustrated or irritated during the summertime. I think I may really have an addiction to sunshine. And during the winter time, there isn't any sun, or if there is, there's no heat from it. I've always half joked about having seasonal affective disorder, but I think, in all seriousness, that it's a major source of my problems.
...
...I just want someone I can spend quality time with...
I made some sweeping geralities a couple of days ago. As with every situation in which stereotypes are made, there are a number of people who don't fit. Please, if you live in Utah, don't take offense. I am simply frustrated with the fact that, since I graduated from school, I've not met anyone that understands me. I generally feel more irritated with life when it's cold outside, and lately, it's been so cold it can't snow.
I'm still feeling incredibly isolated. Last night, for example, my friends and I decided to watch a movie, and we all threw titles out there, and vetoed each other's suggestions. Finally, I got frustrated and went to take a shower. When I came back they had started a movie I had previously vetoed. This happens all the time. Earlier last week, I wanted to make this great, healthy, orange chicken recipe for dinner, but my friend/roommate, with whom I share groceries, really wanted Chinese Chiken Salad, so we had that instead.
My roommates don't even know me.
I can't be myself, or do things I want to do, because I'm concerned with the feelings of my roommates and friends. We do things they choose, and listen to music they like, and eat where they like the menu. I like Star Trek, Alias, podcasting, classical music, playing video games, reading when it's cold outside, and going to the movies. But I can't like any of that stuff around them because they look at me like I'm a geek or a little kid, like "Nicki, you should have grown out of that stuff years ago." I mentioned once to them that I used to go to movies all the time by myself, because I like movies, and they kept acting like I was nuts. Last night I thought about being forceful, and voicing my opinions a little more explosively, but since I've never done that with these girls before, I thought I might alienate them. Because, of course, after all is said and done, they are my only real close friends in Ogden. So instead, we watched a movie I didn't want to watch, and afterwards, I went downstairs and threw a silent temper-tantrum. And in my frustration, I did a load of laundry because I had no clean jeans to wear to work today. But I wasn't focused, so I didn't remember that my now useless cell phone was in the pocket of my jeans until this morning, when I pulled my clothes out of the dryer... Just one more thing to add to the growing haystack I'm carting around I guess.
Then I got to thinking about my mood and how I never feel this frustrated or irritated during the summertime. I think I may really have an addiction to sunshine. And during the winter time, there isn't any sun, or if there is, there's no heat from it. I've always half joked about having seasonal affective disorder, but I think, in all seriousness, that it's a major source of my problems.
...
...I just want someone I can spend quality time with...
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
feeling isolated...
Do you ever feel like you're surrounded by small people? Not small, like size, but small in views. I was driving into work today and thinking, as only a one hour commute can force me to do, and I came upon the realization that the problem with living in Utah is that so many of the people here have no concept of a world larger than the small town they grew up in, and yes, I include Salt Lake City as a small town... The 300 or so people that make up the daily community of their lives are all they know and, for the most part, all they want to know. Life for my roommates, for example, is about the next singles activity, the next date, the next boyfriend. They go from class to class and are solely focused on thier own small lives... The world is so much larger than all of that.
I lived outside of this state for most of my life. In fact, I lived out of the country for several years, even. And this could have something to do with the perceptions I have of the world, but I'm not even sure that matters, because one of my roommates lived in France for 2 years while she was in high school, and she is just as limited by her world as anybody else I know.
Not that everyone in Utah is limited. I know plenty of people who aren't. My Aunt Jerry, and her daughter, Jenny, for two, are open minded. And I'm sure that there are scads of people outside of Utah who can be every bit as narrow minded about thier lives as anyone else.
Now that I'm thinking about it, all the poeple I know who aren't limited by their lives were students of the arts. Barbara and her Latin/History/Library Science degrees. Jana and her English/Library Science. Jaymi and her Art degree. Myself with English. Perhaps we have a bigger perspective because we've studied other people's perspectives. Most of the people I know here in Utah are Education majors. They grew up wanting to be teachers, so when they got to college they became teacher majors, and when they graduate, they'll teach in the same elementary school, junior high, or high school they graduated from. It's all they know, and all they care to know.
Digressing for just a minute... (don't worry, I'll tie it back in by the end).
I'm have a serious affair with technology. I think it rocks. I can't get enough of it. I'm hooked by all the little gadgets and toys they're coming up with nowadays. I want one. And it doesn't even matter what it is, but I want one. The coffee table computer touch screen, the tablet PC, a wireless electrical system, the wireless waterproof iPod and earphones. They have all kinds of internet applications, like the capability to access your own personal computer, from your work computer, or vice versa, that I can't even begin to describe in such a short amount of space. I follow it all, from rumor to development to general release... I'm addicted. I'm so hooked that I want to get involved.
There's a whole new medium of communication out there call podcasting. For those of you who don't know, podcasting is something akin to radio broadcasting. It's an online radio show, but instead of a live timed show, where you have to tune in at a certian time or you miss it, podcasting is something that can be downloaded anytime, and listened to whenever you want. Podcast topics are usually so specialized that they appeal to a certain kind of limited audience. Whole communities of like-minded individuals have sprung up around these podcasts. And I want to be part of it. More specifically, I want to be in the center of it.
My friends don't get that. They tease me because I like Star Trek, Alias, and Lost, and because I listen to podcasts that make me smarter, and they call me a geek, which I'm okay with most of the time... The problem is, I'm surrounded by people who don't get me. They don't get who I am and what I'm interested in. They have no concept of the larger world out there; that people are connecting on a global scale and that it's not just about who you can see and touch anymore, but about who can hear, and talk to, and connect with anywhere in the world. Ideas are being shared at a rate and scope like never before. It's amazing. And they're oblivious. It's like things were 200 years ago when literacy was the new thing. Some people refused to learn, thinking it was just a fad. But it's not the case. The information age is here and it's staying.
...why won't my friends get on board?...
I lived outside of this state for most of my life. In fact, I lived out of the country for several years, even. And this could have something to do with the perceptions I have of the world, but I'm not even sure that matters, because one of my roommates lived in France for 2 years while she was in high school, and she is just as limited by her world as anybody else I know.
Not that everyone in Utah is limited. I know plenty of people who aren't. My Aunt Jerry, and her daughter, Jenny, for two, are open minded. And I'm sure that there are scads of people outside of Utah who can be every bit as narrow minded about thier lives as anyone else.
Now that I'm thinking about it, all the poeple I know who aren't limited by their lives were students of the arts. Barbara and her Latin/History/Library Science degrees. Jana and her English/Library Science. Jaymi and her Art degree. Myself with English. Perhaps we have a bigger perspective because we've studied other people's perspectives. Most of the people I know here in Utah are Education majors. They grew up wanting to be teachers, so when they got to college they became teacher majors, and when they graduate, they'll teach in the same elementary school, junior high, or high school they graduated from. It's all they know, and all they care to know.
Digressing for just a minute... (don't worry, I'll tie it back in by the end).
I'm have a serious affair with technology. I think it rocks. I can't get enough of it. I'm hooked by all the little gadgets and toys they're coming up with nowadays. I want one. And it doesn't even matter what it is, but I want one. The coffee table computer touch screen, the tablet PC, a wireless electrical system, the wireless waterproof iPod and earphones. They have all kinds of internet applications, like the capability to access your own personal computer, from your work computer, or vice versa, that I can't even begin to describe in such a short amount of space. I follow it all, from rumor to development to general release... I'm addicted. I'm so hooked that I want to get involved.
There's a whole new medium of communication out there call podcasting. For those of you who don't know, podcasting is something akin to radio broadcasting. It's an online radio show, but instead of a live timed show, where you have to tune in at a certian time or you miss it, podcasting is something that can be downloaded anytime, and listened to whenever you want. Podcast topics are usually so specialized that they appeal to a certain kind of limited audience. Whole communities of like-minded individuals have sprung up around these podcasts. And I want to be part of it. More specifically, I want to be in the center of it.
My friends don't get that. They tease me because I like Star Trek, Alias, and Lost, and because I listen to podcasts that make me smarter, and they call me a geek, which I'm okay with most of the time... The problem is, I'm surrounded by people who don't get me. They don't get who I am and what I'm interested in. They have no concept of the larger world out there; that people are connecting on a global scale and that it's not just about who you can see and touch anymore, but about who can hear, and talk to, and connect with anywhere in the world. Ideas are being shared at a rate and scope like never before. It's amazing. And they're oblivious. It's like things were 200 years ago when literacy was the new thing. Some people refused to learn, thinking it was just a fad. But it's not the case. The information age is here and it's staying.
...why won't my friends get on board?...
Friday, November 2, 2007
My Mom
I was listening to a podcast today and an they played an old lullaby from my childhood. I had forgotten about it until today. I know it was part of some mormon musical that I only saw once, but that's not where I learned it. My mother used to sing it to me at night after she tucked me in. There I was, working away at my computer on a spreadsheet for a meeting when all of a sudden I was transported back to my 6 year old self in my dark bedroom, with my mother sitting on my bed rubbing my legs and singing to me. And at the same time, I was sitting at my desk, tearing up like that 6 year old. It was powerful, and emotional, and now I miss my Mom.
It got me thinking about my parents, and how much they mean to me. They're two of the most important parts of who I am. They shaped me.
A couple of months ago, my family was all together, and we were talking about our earliest memories. And for some unknown reason, mine are all memories of times when I was angry at my parents, or they were frustrated with me. And I think I may have given my mom a complex about that. She's worried that she scarred my early childhood. But the truth is that those memories of anger and frustration are just the ones that I can easily recall. I'm sure I have many more memories of happy times when my parents were teaching, caring for, and loving me. The very fact that I didn't remember that lullaby until today only makes that memory, and today's memory, that much more powerful.
I love my Mom. She's amazing. She's one of the most loving, charitable individuals I've ever met. I don't know what my life would be like without her. And it wouldn't matter how many words I use to describe how wonderful she is. Because I could never get close enough to do her justice. And she'll probably read this someday and think I'm just blowing smoke. Mom. Here it is on the internet for the whole world to see: I love you. You're the reason I am who I am. I couldn't have done the things I've done, seen the things I've seen, or gone to all of the places I've been if you hadn't been there, supporting me through all of it. I'm sad that we live far apart from each other, but someday, we'll live in the same town. We'll eat lunch together and go grocery shopping and stop at the post office. I couldn't look forward to doing those kinds of things with you if I didn't have happy, if subliminal, memories of the love you showed to me as child. Thank you for singing me to bed every night.
...
...And now I'm very homesick...
It got me thinking about my parents, and how much they mean to me. They're two of the most important parts of who I am. They shaped me.
A couple of months ago, my family was all together, and we were talking about our earliest memories. And for some unknown reason, mine are all memories of times when I was angry at my parents, or they were frustrated with me. And I think I may have given my mom a complex about that. She's worried that she scarred my early childhood. But the truth is that those memories of anger and frustration are just the ones that I can easily recall. I'm sure I have many more memories of happy times when my parents were teaching, caring for, and loving me. The very fact that I didn't remember that lullaby until today only makes that memory, and today's memory, that much more powerful.
I love my Mom. She's amazing. She's one of the most loving, charitable individuals I've ever met. I don't know what my life would be like without her. And it wouldn't matter how many words I use to describe how wonderful she is. Because I could never get close enough to do her justice. And she'll probably read this someday and think I'm just blowing smoke. Mom. Here it is on the internet for the whole world to see: I love you. You're the reason I am who I am. I couldn't have done the things I've done, seen the things I've seen, or gone to all of the places I've been if you hadn't been there, supporting me through all of it. I'm sad that we live far apart from each other, but someday, we'll live in the same town. We'll eat lunch together and go grocery shopping and stop at the post office. I couldn't look forward to doing those kinds of things with you if I didn't have happy, if subliminal, memories of the love you showed to me as child. Thank you for singing me to bed every night.
...
...And now I'm very homesick...
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Fed Up!
Okay. I'm giving you fair warning right now. This is going to be a soap-box edition. I'm going to talk about men in general, but specifically, the guys in my ward, who are all lame! (And it goes without saying that I have to change names to protect the guilty, and because some people who are in my ward may read this.) But, I guess before I get too far into it, I should give you some background information...
Two weeks ago, in church, an older guy I'll call Spencer gave a talk. He was charming, and funny, and educated. He gave a great talk. It surpassed the other two talks by far. Normally, I wouldn't have the guts to go up and talk to him, but Spencer is not a handsome man. He's on the heavy side, and he looks pretty run-down. So I figured, "Finally, a guy that I can be interested in that may actually understand that the 12 year old size two Blondette in the 4th row probably won't give him the time of day. I might actually have a chance with this guy. He's older and out of school, I'm older and out of school. He's not the prettiest fish in the sea, I'm not the prettiest fish in the sea. Something like this could actually work!"
So after Church, there's a linger-longer (which, in Mormon speak means a chance for all us single people to hang around and hook up). I work up enough guts to find Spencer, who is sitting with two other guys, none of whom know each other. I sit down with the three guys and introduce myself. (I need to interrupt for just a moment and mention how nervous and scared I was. I mean, hello, going up to three boys I've never met before and striking up conversation... I must have been crazy.) The thing is, none of the boys really responded. I asked them what they did, what they went to school for, and how long they'd been in the ward. You know, all the getting-to-know-you questions. I even flirted a bit.
Yeah... Got Nothin'. Nothing at all. It was like talking to brick walls. And Spencer? The worst out of the three of them. You'd think that a nice looking girl, who makes an effort at sitting down with three boys without any other reason than to get to know them, would be worth a little effort. But I guess not.
So I left the linger-longer a little bit dissapointed. My brother, who saw the whole thing go down, told me that boys are idiots and they just don't get the clues. Which was something I already knew, but made me irritated just the same. I mean, hello! I'm making an honest effort to come over and talk to you. There could have been no other reason for me to sit down with three strangers. What's not to get?
You'd think this story was over... but it's not.
Monday, I was coerced into going to Family Home Evening by my roommate. I usually don't go because I don't like how all the skinny 18 year olds throw themselves at all the boys. But my roommate really wanted to carve a pumpkin, so we went. Anyway, we get there, and start carving a pumpkin, when who should walk in but Spencer. And I think, okay, maybe I'll give him another chance. He scanned the room for a few minutes and then picked a table full of giggly 18 year old girls who wear size zeros and have big boobs. Let me remind you that Spencer is not cute! I mean, COME ON! What's so wrong with shopping in your own league? I know it's awful to say it that way, but it's true. I don't try to hook up with the football players, or the Brad Pit look-a-likes. What makes boys think they can? Seriously?
So the point of the this particular story is that i'm done. I'm done. Why should I make the effort when I'll just get ignored anyway? The boys clearly aren't looking for a 24 year old size 16 who is finished with school. Never mind that I'm more of a person than any of those other girls will ever be. Never mind that I have more fun and more personality. I guess it doesn't matter that, in conversation, I can talk about more than hair product and soap operas. And, not to broadcast my geekiness, but let me just point out, for the record, that I'm one of 10 girls in the whole universe who like action movies and playing video games. I actually have a playstation (for guitar hero) and an Xbox 360 (for Halo). I don't read romance novels and I usually prefer guy movies over chick flicks. You'd think that these quirks of mine would help me out a little bit... Boys are stupid.
...I'm just done
Two weeks ago, in church, an older guy I'll call Spencer gave a talk. He was charming, and funny, and educated. He gave a great talk. It surpassed the other two talks by far. Normally, I wouldn't have the guts to go up and talk to him, but Spencer is not a handsome man. He's on the heavy side, and he looks pretty run-down. So I figured, "Finally, a guy that I can be interested in that may actually understand that the 12 year old size two Blondette in the 4th row probably won't give him the time of day. I might actually have a chance with this guy. He's older and out of school, I'm older and out of school. He's not the prettiest fish in the sea, I'm not the prettiest fish in the sea. Something like this could actually work!"
So after Church, there's a linger-longer (which, in Mormon speak means a chance for all us single people to hang around and hook up). I work up enough guts to find Spencer, who is sitting with two other guys, none of whom know each other. I sit down with the three guys and introduce myself. (I need to interrupt for just a moment and mention how nervous and scared I was. I mean, hello, going up to three boys I've never met before and striking up conversation... I must have been crazy.) The thing is, none of the boys really responded. I asked them what they did, what they went to school for, and how long they'd been in the ward. You know, all the getting-to-know-you questions. I even flirted a bit.
Yeah... Got Nothin'. Nothing at all. It was like talking to brick walls. And Spencer? The worst out of the three of them. You'd think that a nice looking girl, who makes an effort at sitting down with three boys without any other reason than to get to know them, would be worth a little effort. But I guess not.
So I left the linger-longer a little bit dissapointed. My brother, who saw the whole thing go down, told me that boys are idiots and they just don't get the clues. Which was something I already knew, but made me irritated just the same. I mean, hello! I'm making an honest effort to come over and talk to you. There could have been no other reason for me to sit down with three strangers. What's not to get?
You'd think this story was over... but it's not.
Monday, I was coerced into going to Family Home Evening by my roommate. I usually don't go because I don't like how all the skinny 18 year olds throw themselves at all the boys. But my roommate really wanted to carve a pumpkin, so we went. Anyway, we get there, and start carving a pumpkin, when who should walk in but Spencer. And I think, okay, maybe I'll give him another chance. He scanned the room for a few minutes and then picked a table full of giggly 18 year old girls who wear size zeros and have big boobs. Let me remind you that Spencer is not cute! I mean, COME ON! What's so wrong with shopping in your own league? I know it's awful to say it that way, but it's true. I don't try to hook up with the football players, or the Brad Pit look-a-likes. What makes boys think they can? Seriously?
So the point of the this particular story is that i'm done. I'm done. Why should I make the effort when I'll just get ignored anyway? The boys clearly aren't looking for a 24 year old size 16 who is finished with school. Never mind that I'm more of a person than any of those other girls will ever be. Never mind that I have more fun and more personality. I guess it doesn't matter that, in conversation, I can talk about more than hair product and soap operas. And, not to broadcast my geekiness, but let me just point out, for the record, that I'm one of 10 girls in the whole universe who like action movies and playing video games. I actually have a playstation (for guitar hero) and an Xbox 360 (for Halo). I don't read romance novels and I usually prefer guy movies over chick flicks. You'd think that these quirks of mine would help me out a little bit... Boys are stupid.
...I'm just done
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