Good Times

Usually when life gets crazy, moments and thoughts get funnier. I haven't figured out if that's because we're going legally insane at those moments and erego, life is just a hilarious show. Maybe it is. Or maybe we just latch on to those funny, spontaneous moments to try to keep us sane. Who knows. But whatever the cause, you live for the moments. So here are some of mine from the past little while:

Cultural Education...Or Lack Thereof
On Saturday night HRH, a couple of her friends, and I went to the India Fest that they hold once a year at the local (ahem - this means the only one in a two-hundred mile radius) Indian temple. It was the first time I had been there and I was excited to go because...hey. How often is it that you can say casually to your friend, "Yeah, I went to the Indian Temple on Saturday." I mean, instant cool factor right there. So we went. It's in the middle of nowhere - actually, it's in the middle of farmer fields, which just made it feel strangely like we were actually in India - or how I imagine it would feel to be in India...minus the humidity, of course. I was a little disappointed because there wasn't much to do, and what there was to do, you either had to pay, stand in a never-ending line, or fight the crowds. Not entirely what I was expecting.

We went up into the temple where they had an appointed story-teller-guide-person-man to tell the story of their culture and religion. We sat down, and I was ready to be culturally edified. Much to my chagrin, I could barely understand the enthusiastic man gibbering off in a mix between Hindi and English. We lasted about 3 minutes and then decided to leave. I remarked to my friend that I was hoping to learn more of their culture and religion, because, sadly, everything I've ever learned about India, I learned from "Bend it Like Beckham" and "Bride & Prejudice." Which, at the time, was a hilarious realization. I mean, India is HOW big and culturally important, and all I can boast after my many years of education and world history classes is that my knowledge of a fascinating country is based on two Indian-influenced chick flicks. My world is apparently very small. That didn't stop me from hoping that Jonathan Rhys-Myers or Martin Henderson would magically show up and get their Indian groove on. Once again, I was disappointed.

What the....?
Like I said, the India Fest was packed to capacity (and probably a little over). There were families, groups of friends, and all forms of human life that you could expect to find at such a gathering. However, I was not expecting one human life to be there. So I was standing around the Henna Tattoo booth, because a couple of the girls with us wanted to get tattoos. And as there was nothing else to do, we accompanied them in the line, discussing everything from career aspirations to how similar Mika is to Miranda. We were standing in a circle, chatting away, when I casually looked to the side of my friend. I saw just a sea of faces, one of which was behind said friend. I looked away, because why pay attention to random faces unless they are Jonathan Rhys-Myers or Martin Henderson? It took me a second after I turned back to our group to realize that I recognized that face. Very well. And not from the movies. I looked back and saw the person still staring at me, with a grin starting to begin at the corners of his mouth. It was my friend Nate. Nate, mind you, is a friend from high school -well -we were friendsish. We eventually became pretty good friends in college. Since being home from Argentina, however, I hadn't seen him much. You know how that works. They have girlfriends and that's just not right to be around too much. He went to Washington DC for the summer and had been back a month. He hadn't called and I hadn't called him. That's just how we work. We catch up every couple of months or so, but nothing too major in between. And quite frankly, I saw his posts on Facebook and heaven help me if I was going to be one of the many girls trying to get his attention. So I refused.

Thus, seeing him, after about four months of not seeing him, and seeing him when I was not expecting to see him, caused me to have this blank stare and blurt out the words, "Of all the places in the world for you to be, why are you HERE?" That's a nice greeting, now isn't it. He said hey to all and then quickly scurried away to be with his roommates. And that was it. Of all the places to see an old friend who you avoided because of his harem of girls, you see him at the Indian Temple in Spanish Fork, Utah, during the India Fest, on a Saturday night. Which leads me to conclude...."WHAT THE...???"

Fall Colors
I don't think this is necessarily funny, but it's strangely amusing to me. My mom wanted to go up the canyon to see the trees changing colors. It's kind of a tradition with us. And apparently the colors won't last long this year because we had a dry spring or something. I really need to study up on that. Anyway, we went up the canyon, just the two of us. We drove around, saw the brilliant reds, the vibrant oranges, and the stunning yellows, all mixed in with the greens. It was beautiful. The problem is that I get carsick. I'm good on long road trips, and I just can't read or do anything in cars if we're going on short trips. The real problems start on winding roads. I cannot stop the queasiness once we get on those. I almost didn't get to go to my favorite place in the entire world, Sea Ranch, California, because it's about 45 minutes of coast-hugging highways. And the little roads up the canyon that wind around the different campsites? Almost as bad. So my mom kept on chatting and driving, while I rolled down my window and curled up into a ball. We got lost. Do you know the agony of being carsick and not knowing the way out of the evil one-way roads of camping? Intense, let me tell you. We finally found the little wood post that directed us toward the exit. We got home and I went directly upstairs to my bed and put on Pride & Prejudice on my laptop and laid there for about an hour and a half, until I could move again without feeling like I was going to lose it. That's just life, isn't it? You go do something fun and not normally done, and enjoy it, but then end up curled on your bed for an hour afterward because of carsickness. Joy!

The Pink Ones
I stayed the night and spent part of the day with my cousin and sister last Saturday. I did my GMAT prep (ugghhhhhh), was introduced to Supernatural with a four-episode marathon (not so shabby, but I'm left with the question which really needs to be answered...who is cuter? Jared/Sam or Jensen/Dean? Help!), and vegged just a little. It was needed. So my cousin and I wanted to go to Costco to gas up my car and buy Supernatural Season 2, because apparently it was on sale (actually, it wasn't. My sister should learn not to assume things), and eat the tasters. Yum! My sister wanted to go to her running store to buy new shoes. Since it is very close to Costco, I offered to take her there. Geez. I am so not a runner, let me tell you. I don't know if you've ever had the joy of going into a store which is SO not your thing. The only logical response is to make fun of the things you see, because let's be honest. Half the time you don't even know what the things are for. I mean, squeezable sport gel, anyone?

So the worker guy asked us if we needed help, and I pointed to my sister and said, "Help her!" He looked at us funny, and that was my escape cue. My cousin and I ran outside and sat to wait for my sister. Apparently it's a very in-depth process to pick out new shoes. Support, weight, fit, comfort...who knew? At this store, they will not sell you a pair of shoes until you've tried about eight on, and run with all eight outside for a little bit. Then you do shoe challenges, running with one shoe on one foot and another shoe on the other, in order to find the winner. It's a weird world, that running world is. So the cute sales guy comes out with my sister and tells her to run. She runs past us and shouts, "What do you think?" Me, being the girl that I am, shout back, "They're not cute! Don't they have some in pink???" I heard the guy laugh behind me. Yeah, I'm not a runner. It's apparent. So a few shoes later, she runs out, super excited. "THEY'RE PINK!" And they were. These shoes were white, with pink accents. And not just plain pink. Shiny pink in some places. I was sold. And I made sure she was, too. I mean, honestly. Who needs running shoes that make you look ugly? It's all about the image.
And pink does the trick.

The Reality of Fictional Favorites
I go to church every week and this Sunday's topic in one of our classes was marriage. *Inward groan* Nothing says Hip-hip-hooray like a marriage class in a single's ward. Trust me. Anyway, one of the girls asked about when should you pay attention to the red flags before getting serious, and which flags were important. Quoting the text which the lesson was based on, "there must be the proper approach toward marriage, which contemplates the selection of a spouse who reaches as nearly as possible the pinnacle of perfection in all the matters which are of importance to the individuals." I then made the comment: "Girls, we will not find a perfect guy. Ever. They don't exist. The sad reality is that Mr. Darcy is not real. Nor is Edward. So we need to find guys who come close to perfection in every significant area. But if we are searching for ultimate perfection, we will end up alone, with only our books and chick flicks to comfort us." I got a lot of laughs, but it's true. And as much as I hated saying it (because now I have to admit it), Mr. Darcy is not real. Nor is Edward. That is just the reality of our fictional favorites. Nevertheless, which book am I rereading? Pride and Prejudice. Which book(s) did I read before P&P? The Twilight series. Sometimes I think reality is overrated.

The Arrogance of Men
I don't know how many of you have seen Star Wars Episode Five (or #2 in the original trilogy), but I watched it this weekend and was reminded of a line that makes me want to gag everytime I hear it. Imagine Han, in shackles, ready to be put into frozen hibernation for an indefinite amount of time. The Empire's bubble-head guards are all standing around thinking, "Hey man - is it lunch yet? This Vader dude totally sucks out all my positive energy." And Chewy and Leia are there, watching helplessly. Okay, Chewy wasn't totally helpless. He took a few guards down before Han told him to cut it out and protect the damsel in distress. I'm sorry, has Leia EVER been the damsel needing protection? Okay, don't answer that. So Leia and Han have a farewell smooch and as he is pulled away, she says, "I love you." His reply? Not "I love you, too." Or, "Get me out of this and I'll marry you in a pod-racing second." No. He says, oh so gallantly, "I know." Geez. Of all the arrogant replies. That one is the worst. Does it say that he loves her? That he's committed? Negative, ghostwriter. Rather, it is the detached, emotionally void reply that stems from his inner ego. Talk about arrogance. That always ticks me off.

So, while watching this movie with a group of people I didn't really know that well, I make the reply: "You know, I'd like to be a bounty hunter for a day and take him down." I got a lot of funny looks. Maybe I should try verbalizing all of the mental banter I have before making such comments in the future. Note to self.

The Really Big Brain Cramp

So, I thought GMAT would be bad. That was until I had to translate an engineering report from Spanish to English. Complete with math conversions from the metric scale to what we Americans use. I think that's why all of the above moments/thoughts were so funny or at least note-worthy. I spent the beginning of last week doing this for about 12 hours. Ouch. Not recommended. So don't blame me for being odd. Blame the goo that was me before the translations began.