it's nothing special....it's just kriss

At the risk of losing my reputation for being heartless, I am taking a serious moment. THANK YOU to all of you. I have received phone calls, texts, emails, Facebook posts and support from a dozen other technologies. I am overwhelmed by all the wonderful friends I have! I will never deserve you or your kindness! But I am SO grateful for it! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Last night I sent my Austi off to the big scary world of...well, her parents house. No, she is going into the MTC this afternoon and since I don't fall into the 'We share the same blood' category, I don't get to see her again before she goes in. Being the one to go on a mission wasn't so bad. But being the one who gets left behind - well, that really sucks! It means when I go home tonight, I will be totally, utterly, hopelessly alone. I HATE being alone. It also means my brain is kinda short-circuiting right now...trying to find a way to not succumb to the dark abyss of loneliness and hermitage looming on my doorstep . Here are some of my more proactive options: My 'freaking-out-because-I-hate-being-alone' side is compelling me to make a poorly thought out decision to buy a puppy. Which will surely end in soiled carpets; drooled on, chewed on furniture and a large number of friends who might not come to visit me anymore. My 'I'm-not-quite-sure-how...

So last Saturday....yes, I know, it's almost Saturday again. But last Saturday I had a little...adventure. I was not in the most stellar condition. I had been fighting a raging head cold and sinus infection all week long and just couldn't seem to kick it. I woke up coughing my guts out at 7:30ish and decided to go take some cough medicine so I could sleep a little longer. Problem: The only cough medicine I had in my house was PM - you know, the super drowsy don't operate heavy machinery after taking this medicine...ever...PM (Yes, Austi - that hyperexaggeration was just for you. :)). Solution: Take it anyway. How bad could it be? Coughing adequately suppressed, I went back to bed for a few more hours. Upon waking up, I realized I didn't have my cell phone. I ran to the door to look for it in my car. But it was raining and I was wearing slippers. So I ran back up the stairs, feeling more than a little drugged, and grabbed my sandals. I was hurrying back downstairs with m...

For those of you who instantly recognized the title of this post - I am warning you that this will be a repeat...a very, dreadful repeat. But I decided it is time to bring this story out of the woodwork ... Not so much for my own benefit, but to console friends and aquaintences in their epic, lip-locked struggles. I also decided, that all first kisses should be horrible, awful and highly traumatic. Why? Because horrible, awful and highly traumatic first kisses = HIGHLY entertaining stories for posterity! Anyway, here it goes. It was my first year at Utah State. I was, yes I admit it, I was the LAST and lingering VL in my apartment. And while I was stubbornly and proudly clinging to that title, along came John. I could tell he really liked me (which should always be the first clue there is something seriously wrong with a man). So I let him take me out on a couple of dates. On our second or third date, it was pretty obvious that he wanted to kiss me. Unfortunately for him, I was not yet...

Last week I almost had a heart attack. I got my Sinclair gas card bill in the mail. It said my owed balance was over $300! But my panic was short-lived. I noticed that my previous balance of $220 had carried over onto the current bill. I paid the previous balance, but obviously not before the new bill was printed. So, I placed the bill on my desk, feeling rather relieved, and forgot about it. Today at work I got a voice message from Connie at Sinclair Oil telling me that I had a past-due, outstanding balance and she was calling to collect payment for it. Puzzled, I called her back and explained that she was wrong. I had already paid it. I even have a confirmation number from paying on their website. I told her I would call her back when I got home and could find the confirmation number. But, being the patient person I am, I immediately checked my bank statement to see if I could figure the problem out. Sure enough, I found the charge for $220 on the day I told her I had paid it. It was...

So I just went downstairs to get a drink and took a pit stop in the potty. And when I went to grab some toilet paper, out of the corner of my eye I noticed what looked like a couple of big splotches of blood on the toilet paper dispenser. AHHH! I recoiled in disgust. Then I turned to take a closer look. No, they weren't blood spots. They were dang fall leaf stickers! I guess that's what I get for working at a scrapbook empire. I'd say it scared the crap out of me, but that might be an overshare. :)

Today was my annual dose of public humiliation cleverly disguised as a physical. For those of you who have been subjected to one of the only remaining legal forms of torture, you will know exactly what I am talking about. However, if you have somehow through Divine intervention managed to escape the horrible, life-scarring experience, I simply have nothing to say to you. And, if you are getting a little embarrassed - you should probably stop reading now. I woke up in a good mood - 'til I remembered. I went to the doctors office - alone. I waited - insides writhing in horrid anticipation. They called my name - I followed the cute little friendly nurse to the torture chamber. And so it began. And even though my doctor tried to make pleasant conversation, even though she acted truly interested in my occupation and all the other boring details of my boring life, and EVEN though the cute, friendly nurse said she really liked my orange toe nails...my dignity and self-respect are nonethel...