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.