Spiders!

For the past couple of days, I have not been able to rid myself of spiders. These are not imaginary spiders; they are the real thing – with eight legs, an arachnid. Monday before work I spot one above my closet and had to let it be because my dad had already left for work and being 5’2”, I could not reach it (not that I really wanted too). Luckily, it was still there (at least I think it was the same one!) after work and my dad was able to kill it effectively. About an hour later when I was running out the door to go to FHE, there was another spider. This one was bigger and also too high on the wall for me to reach. I calmly let my dad know it was there and he told me to wait. I go to FHE and come back to a spider still on my wall. My dad was nice enough to come downstairs before we went to bed to kill it. Needless to say, my night was a little restless and m y skin never stopped itching.

The very next day (Tuesday), I hear a scream in the lab and look over to see Mitch jump out of his chair. This was not a girly scream, it was a manly scream coming from a 6’ guy with very big muscles and size 14 shoe. It turns out that this big guy is afraid of spiders – he had seen one on the ground. This spider was a good size and met his death while being sprayed with alcohol. It made for a funny picture – watching Mitch run away from a spider. After the spider dies, Norbert picks it up and puts it in the bag. He shoes the bag to me and I jump out of my chair. He says, “It’s dead, Carly, in a bag. This tiny spider can’t hurt you.” To which I reply, “I am not talking to you Norbert.” This sparks many conversations where I make fun of him for being afraid of flying and he makes fun of me for having arachnophobia.

Not ten minutes later, I find myself in the bathroom and see a big spider on the wall. It starts moving and falls off the wall. Since I do not dare venture closer and the floor is dark, I wash my hands and make a (very) hasty retreat. I tell Norbert this and he tells me that I need to take care of it. The spider control at Baxa is made up of myself and Mitch (I think he was lying). About 3 hours later I find myself in the restroom again and slowly open the door saying, “Is it safe?”. Caryl, Katie, and Kristi, and Megan are changing in the bathroom thinking that I was talking about them. I tell them about my earlier adventures and they don’t seem concerned at all, maybe I do go a bit over the top.

That night, I return to my lovely bedroom with lots of pink on the wall and come in contact with another spider. This one is of medium size and so I bravely grab 15 Kleenexes and proceed to kill the spider. I am victorious! The spider is dead, in the Kleenex and I am not running around all squirmy. Needless to say, I tell Norbert this the next day and he congratulates me and tells me that I need to keep this up. After all of the progress that I have made, I am still very afraid of spiders and get all itchy just thinking about them. The two scariest movies are Arachnophobia and The Covenant (only because of the scary spider dream).

Pink and McDreamy

Today was a crazy day. The only pink that I wore was on my fingernails, my toenails and on my wrist. When this happens, I get remarks such as, “Carly, you’re not wearing pink!” (I think that I would have noticed my lack of pink in the morning) or “Where’s the pink, Carly?”. My favorites include, “You must be sick, Carly, you’re not wearing any pink” or “Carly, are you insane? Where is the pink?” Correct me if I am wrong, but would one be considered insane if they wore pink everyday rather than the opposite? It should be a sign of sanity when I don’t wear pink. I was also told today that it is only okay for girls under the age of nine to wear pink. My response to this was that I am short.

They moved my desk today. I sent a couple on evil glares toward Caryl, but then I got over it. Many people commented on my move. Marisol said that she was surprised to see McDreamy on the wall of a cubicle and then realized that it belonged to me. Josh asked me why they moved me over here, to which I responded, “They didn’t like me over there.” He replied with, “What made them think that it would be any different over here?” (cue the sad face) “I am going to have to go to the top on this one.” This is the treatment that I get at work; I guess they appreciate all the humor I provide for them. Even if it in referring to my body (in the most modest way).

Bye, Bye Cavs

Okay, for all those NBA Finals fans, aka my brother-in-law – San Antonio beat Cleveland last night. It was game two and the Spurs had already won the first game. The Cavaliers were down by 28 points at half time and rallied back to only lose by 11. This reminds me slightly of a certain intramural basketball team at BYU that lost by about 50 points almost every game. Try as they might, they could just not beat other teams. We had this ritual where I would make Chocolate Pudding Cake if they lost and Italian Crème Cake if the other team forfeited. We were never able to define a winner cake. Still have to give them points (Weight Watchers points) for trying right?

A Mournful Loss

Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer battled it out today for the final of the French Open. I am a fan of Federer; he is such a pretty tennis player and makes every shot look easy. Nadal is also a pretty tennis player and has dominated on clay for a while. He beat Federer last year in the French and followed it up this year beating Federer in four sets. Norbert and I argue at work whether or not Federer is still going to be at the top. I say he is, it is just the French that he can’t win and Norbert claims that he is too old to stay at the top for much longer. There was another let down this year in the French, Andy Roddick lost in the first round. The French is generally a funny tournament because it is played on clay and the top players can go without winning the French at all. Still, I think he could have done better than the first round. It seems like he is turning into the poster boy of tennis, much like Anna Kournikova.

Length of a Carly

There is a new SI unit of length here at work. It is a “Carly”, which measure 5’ 1 ¾ “ exactly. The new unit of measure was discovered when Harvey was describing the new bag machine to go into the clean room. It is about 54’ long and I said, “That is like 10 of me!” Gary, who was sitting close by, made the executive decision to make it an SI unit. Gary is about 120% of a Carly and Holly is 95% of a Carly. To top it all off, they are coming up with a pink measuring tape exactly 1 Carly long used to measure things.

Goodnight Moon

I have slept very little the past couple of nights. This is due to the fact that I go to bed later than I should and that my mind never likes to stop, so it has been a hard battle trying to stay awake. In fact, yesterday, Norbert had to wake me up (I wasn’t really asleep, just out for a while). So, it came as a surprise this morning when I magically turn hyper at 7:45 AM. I chose not to dry my hair this morning, so it didn’t look very good and my makeup looked worse today as well. I walk into work and say “hi” to people and start telling everybody that I didn’t dry my hair that morning so it looks like crap. Megan mentions that I am very happy for a Thursday, which is a little out of the norm because Grey’s Anatomy will not be new for another three months. Josh and Mark also mention that I am very happy for this early in the morning. I tell them that they are both wearing green (which is true) and that I have exactly zero green shirts. They reply with, “I have zero pink shirts,” which I imagine is a good thing. They tease me some more when I am trying to balance scales (kind of like a lever) that are about shoulder height. Even with the added height on my shoes, I still have to stand on my tiptoes. Sadly, as the day went on, my lack of sleep caught up to me and being hyper has changed a feeling of great fatigue.

Trouble?

I came to a realization this morning. Multiple people ask me if I am staying out of trouble; to which I replay with ether, “Trying to, but it is hard” or “Nope”. I am not sure why they ask me that, I mean I do what I am told and I do it right – unless I do it wrong. The only trouble I have ever gotten into happened at home and was dealt with using my parents as the punishers. I was a good girl in school; the only time I went to the Principal’s office was to receive a reward. Alas, it is most likely just a jest, I am sure that they are making fun of me somehow, and I will make it my life’s mission to find out what. That is only because my life right now is work, work, work and it will end in September when I go back to school. Thinking about it now, there was no realization, just confusion. More and more confusion to add to my already confusing life. Not really, my life is actually pretty simple at the moment.

Baby Got Back

My sister is going to have a baby girl in about a month. Let’s just say that I am glad she resides in Texas so that I don’t have to hold the baby. You can quote me, “I am not a fan of babies”. Tis true yet, I have this happy little feeling in the bottom of my heart, the fact that I am going to be an aunt. Despite the vision I get from the movie Alien (where the alien pops out of the guys chest) that keeps playing in my head, I have a feeling that her baby will resemble a human, however faintly. My sister happens to be a very petite, very skinny pregnant lady. It was only after I saw a special on TLC where this paralyzed lady (from the waist down) gave birth to a healthy baby boy that I finally believed that my sister could have her baby.

Case of the Mondays?

So I went for a walk today during lunch. Being a college student, my walking gear included the pink shirt I wore to work along with my black capris, and flip flops. Tennis shoes are optional when you have just painted your toenails and when you have walked around Elitches in sandals. Who needs tennis shoes? Despite the fact that I have super flat feet that are making my back go all wack and possibly causes my shin splints, flip flops still remain my shoe of choice. Who wants to trap their feet when they can be free and everyone can see your new nail polish. As a prize for going on the walk, I received socks with our company logo on them. The only problem is that the socks look like they were made for Bigfoot or the Hulk. My feet are size 7.5 and these socks are seriously huge.

After my walk, I ate lunch with Caryl and Megan. Megan told me that my dad hugged her in a meeting once, as a joke. I asked her if she had said that socks with sandals are cool. She burst out laughing. I do imagine that my dad would hug someone that thought socks with sandals were cool; all he gets from me is constant teasing. To paraphrase Jim from the office: I wanted to apologize for all the pranks I pulled on him, and then he opened his mouth. I wonder how hard it would be to get his room key.

My younger brother has remained relentless with the short jokes. The other day he called, “Carly, where are you?” to which I replied “Here!” (like a dutiful student). Both he and my sister start looking closely at the carpet and say, “Carly, Carly, where are you. I can’t see you. Can you here me? Need help navigating that jungle down there?” Keep in mind that I am not that short and that my brother is currently shorter than me.

We had FHE tonight and I went with some people that I don’t know very well. The guy that drove had this nice sports car that just speaks “speed.” The funny thing was that he would speed up super, super fast and then go the speed limit. Correct me if I am wrong, but sports cars are meant to go fast (-er than the speed limit). We visited a family in his ward that I had never met. They asked me my name and once they heard it, I knew, I just knew that they know my dad. For those that don’t know how far my dad’s popularity stretches, I have had plenty of people tell me that I am his daughter. As if I hadn’t figured that out already.

Is it Hot in Here?

As most of you know, the Cavaliers beat the Pistons on Saturday night to advance to the NBA Finals. As one who only follows basketball because of a certain brother-in-law and to talk sports at work, I have never heard of the Cavs. The only teams that I knew were the Detroit Pistons, the San Antonio Spurs, the Denver Nuggets and the Miami Heat. What kind of a name is Heat anyway? The Heat are coming, ohh boy, better drink your ice water. Oh by the way, did you put sunscreen on? And is it a dry heat or do they come with the much dreaded humidity? Of course, the Pistons aren’t much better. Why not name them the Clutch or the Intake Valve? Anyway, the Finals start on Thursday, I will not be sitting on my couch watching. However, I will find out the result from a certain brother-in-law or the very exciting internet.

Feed-n-Flirt

At church yesterday, the ladies bathroom was “broken”. Unfortunately at the Belleview building there happens to only be one ladies restroom. One would not think this would be a problem, but “one” must be from the male population. Putting a bunch of ladies in a building together for 3+ hours without a bathroom is a death wish. There was Priesthood holder standing guard in front of the Men’s room, but we ladies know to not venture in there, even if relief is needed. Needless to say, I found a woman’s bathroom close by that was still “in service”.
We also had “Chat-n-Snack” afterwards (on a Fast Sunday!). For those unfamiliar with “Chat-n-Snack”, let me explain. It is a ritual commonly used in Young Singles Adult wards all over the world. The purpose of the “Feed-n-Flirt” (Chat-n-Snack) is to allow members of the opposite gender get to know each other, obtain a few dates, and ultimately get married. What Mormon couple doesn’t want to say they met at BYU or at “Feed-n-Flirt”? Besides the whole, “date, date, date, get married” thing, I really do like my YSA ward.