Jury Duty

I got a letter from the Fourth District Court today. I have to report for jury duty on April 5. WHY?? Do I seriously qualify? Am I even a resident? I have a WA license. And I'm a student. And I have two jobs. And I don't want to. But I'm a little bit curious. So I'll go. But mostly because if I don't I "shall be in contempt of court and subject to penalty." Whatever that means...

Julie says I should tell them that I'm racist. Maybe I'll tell them I hate everybody, especially their client. He looked at me funny.

Or maybe I won't shower until then so I'll be the smelly kid. Nobody wants a smelly kid on their jury.

Or I'll have Bishop Freestone write a medical release. Think he'd do it? Maybe...

After Hours

I had to work Saturday night at Kara's. It was busy. Really busy due to the pre-Easter rush. We closed at 9pm. Savannah and Brooke left and I got busy with the paperwork. There were two registers and hundreds of transactions to go over. It took me 45 minutes to get it done. The numbers were way off. So I did it again. Counted every penny in both registers, tallied up what should be in there, went over the credit card settlement. It was still way off (although I did close the gap by $100). So I did it again. My numbers were the same. I couldn't explain it and it was already 10:30 so I shrugged my shoulders, stapled everything together, wrote up the deposit slip and locked the store behind me. I walked to the doors that would lead me outside.

But they were locked. All of them.

Coldstone was still open and they have a door that goes into the mall and outside. But they couldn't let me in. "But I'm locked in the mall..."
"Sorry, store policy. But there's a guy on a bike patrolling the mall. He can let you out."

I remembered seeing him ride past the store around 9:30. So I went on a quest to find the bike-riding man with keys that could release me to the outside world.

I walked down each dark hall yelling, "Hello? I'm locked in the mall! Hello? Security?" But there was no response. It was close to a dream come true. But each store had that nasty gate down so there was no after hours shopping or clothes fittings. So I continued my search.

I finally stumbled upon a woman with a broom. "Excuse me, have you seen a man riding a bike?"
"Me speak no English."
"Oh, okay."
"Sorry."
"It's okay. I'll find him."
In all three years of taking Spanish in high school and all the stupid emergency phrases I had to memorize like, "Donde es el bano?" and "No hablo Espanol." and "Te queiro chocolate." they had never taught me the crucial phrase of, "Where's the man with the keys riding the bike?" Where were they on that one, huh?

So I continued my quest. But that bike riding guy with keys must have been napping in the big bean bag store because I couldn't find him anywhere. But then there was a voice. "Key! Key?" It was the cute little lady. She had just figured out what I needed.
"Yes! Key! Can your key open that door?"
"Si!"

I paid the kind woman with a bag of Easter chocolate malt eggs and nearly hugged her as I left shouting, "Gracias! Gracias!"

No hablo Espanol.

So tonight I bought Instant Immersion Spanish v2.0. This won't be happening again. The first word I want to learn? Key!

Double Deuce Thursday

I got a pair of miracles today. Yep. I passed my kidney stone early in the morning which is a big enough miracle in itself to make me happy. But then... I did something daring... I tried on my jeans. And it happened. They fit!! My jeans fit again! I have been emancipated from my fat pants! And from it I got this little gem...

Michael (6): Miss Hansen, there's something different about you today.
Me: Ya? What's that?
Michael: I think it's because you've lost weight.

And then he skipped off into the sunset...

Stoned

Some uninvited guests have arrived. Again. I think. There's been no diagnosis from a physician but I know where I'm hurting and what organ is there and what could be in that organ. Stones. I hate them. The pain is nowhere near where it was before because I can still walk. So I went online and looked up a list of things I can and cannot eat.

Foods I can't eat...
beans
beats
green peppers
spinach
cocoa, chocolate
tea
peanuts, peanut oil
salt
meat
soft drinks
wheat bran

Foods I should eat...
magnesium
calcium fortified orange juice
80 oz of water
vitamin c (only 500 mg)
potassium foods
tiny bits of meat
calcium (800-1000mg)
vitamin b6 (from food)

How am I going to live without my Coke and chocolate? What else is there? Is it possible to get through a day without my coke? Can I eat a meal without having a bit of chocolate after as a reward? And can't all of the "food" I'm supposed to eat be found in a single daily vitamin? D'oh!! I better go drink some more water...

Friday

1) Mrs. Markham came to pick up her daughter with a new haircut putting the whispy ends of her medium brown hair just above her shoulders. Where mine used to be. And I wanted to run to the nearest hair salon to make mine the same way. Because recently I've been waking up with my hair wrapped around my face or neck making my non-functional brain believe I'm blind or being strangled. Also, I rarely wash my hair and having less dirty hair may be less offensive to the general public. Something to think about.
2) I gave myself a French manicure on Wednesday. My nails were all long and pretty. Until Friday when I found the Chewy Peps at Kara's chocolates to be in one giant unmoving lump at the bottom of the jar, neglected by the girls who had decided to ignore the closing list all week. So I was left to pry each pep free one by one. And the middle finger's nail broke on my right hand. And so did my spirit. My heart-wrenched cry disturbed a few passersby in the mall and Roger, who was there decorating chocolate Easter eggs.
3) On my way to the car that evening, a hearse was parked near my car. Why? Nobody likes death. Why park death's vehicle at the mall? Certainly, there's nobody inside. Right? But as I passed by there was a coffin. Somebody ditched Uncle Harry in the parking lot in order to catch a sale at the Gap. "I'm going to miss poor Uncle Harry... wait... is there a sale going on? Pull over! Harry can wait!" Maybe Uncle Harry doesn't mind but you know what? I MIND!

The Preshow

The Celine Dion show had a wide variety of people in the audience, most dressed quite formally carrying in their own drinks from the casino. People were dressed well and the new concert hall looked nice and fancy. And walking down the aisles was a woman equipped with a change maker and programs yelling, "Programs! Programs! Get your programs here!" as if she were selling hotdogs at a baseball game. This amused me and so I added, "Peanuts, Popcorn, Lucky Charms!" without thinking (obviosly because Lucky Charms wouldn't have made it through the filter... probably). Suzy and Sarah giggled, the well-dressed drunks around us erupted into laughter. I have quite a knack for entertaining the intoxicated.

And then... this beauty came into my life. This is the message I listened to right before the show.

"Hi Emily. In another nine minutes it is... well... in fact it is... ya... in another nine minutes it will be 8:30 and I'll be thinking of you when you listen to that fabulous show of Celine Dion. (pronounced Seeleen Dee-on) I hope you really enjoy it and I will be looking forward in what you think about it. OK, this is your dad. Mom and I love you. We'll talk to you later. Okay. Bye."

I started laughing and repeated the message to Suzy and Sarah in my best "Dad" voice. He always leaves messages and then leaves off at the end "...oh... and this is your Dad..." as if I'd confuse him with all the other old men that call me to tell me what the weather is like in Provo as compared to Renton and what the wind chill factor is. Suzy and Sarah laughed. But they weren't alone. Apparantly I had suddenly turned into a one woman act and my whole section had joined the audience. The more-than-a-bit-tipsy woman sitting in front of us turned to me and asked with tears of laughter in her eyes, "Are you making this stuff up or did your dad really leave you that message?" I told her (and the rest of my audience) that I was all too serious and explained the odd but simple relationship my dad and I have that revolves around weather predictions and webcams. But my nine minutes were up and my captivated audience shifted their attention to Celine Dion. But it left me thinking that maybe it's time to write that book... it can be like a coffee table book but a bar book instead since apparantly I'm most hillarious to those that have tossed back a few... it will be mine.... oh yes, it will be mine.

A New Day

So I went to see Celine Dion this weekend in Las Vegas with my Sarah and Suzy. I'm taking a big risk here because I'm going to be honest with you all for a change. I love her. Seriously. Her show was incredible. It was created by Dragone who also created Cirque du Soleil (we also went to the O Show... fantastic) which added a certain dreamworld quality. But the fact is, Celine Dion has over the top vocal ability. Huge voice... itty bitty living space. I understand it makes me a dork to admit that I am now a Celine Dion fan. But is this really new information? And it's because I'm an insecure dork that after I dropped Sarah and Suzy off at the airport I went back to Caesar's Palace to buy the live version of her Las Vegas show. (And a copy of her autobiography.) But if you can forgive Kat for watching a Pauly Shore movie on a Saturday then certainly you can find a place in your heart to accept my Celine Dion loving heart... right?

Once, Twice, Three Times a 7th Grader

I went to Northwest Middle School in Salt Lake on Friday to begin my practicum five weeks late. So instead of a two hour block, I was required to fill a five hour block. Lucky me. While visiting this fine facility I was mistaken for a 7th grader not once, not twice but three times.

Tardy
I was supposed to be there at 8am but I hit a snag of traffic so I walked into the front doors at roughly 8:05am. I was late and I was immediately greeted by the front security guard who grunted at me and pointed to the line of students waiting to get their tardy slips from the front office. I started to tell him I was a volunteer but he grunted again so I shut my trap and stood in line. When I finally got to the front, I informed the front desk that I wasn't a student. I was a volunteer. Was there some sort of volunteer sticker I could wear so this wouldn't happen again? No, no... just go on back...

Hall Pass?
Second period was math and just like when I attended middle and high school this gave me the sudden need to use the restroom. I asked the teacher where it was and made the journey across the hall. The hall officer saw me and yelled at me to inform me that I needed a hall pass. I told yelled back that I was a volunteer. He eyed me suspiciously... OK...

Worksheets
Third period was Health and there was a sub. I sat in the back desk to observe for the first half of class. She came around passing out busy work packets and gave me one too. Uh... I don't think I'll be needing one of these....
And why is that??
Because I'm a volunteer...
Oh... sorry... it's just that you look... well... nevermind... sorry...

As I observed these 7th graders, it was great to see that not much had changed since I'd been in their shoes. Notes were passed, teachers were mocked, movements were awkward and emotions ran high. But I think I'll make myself a volunteer sticker for the next time I go...