let's talk turkey

i had a turkey sandwich for lunch today. it was delicious. it also reminded me of something i meant to tell you after thanksgiving. my family is weird. i cooked a turkey the week of thanksgiving. i know what you're thinking. you're thinking, meagan, your family is not weird. you are weird. it was thanksgiving. of course you cooked a turkey. to you i say no, you're right. let me rephrase. i cooked a turkey on the tuesday of thanksgiving week. we weren't having an early thanksgiving. we didn't even eat the turkey. we just put it in the fridge when it was done cooking. weird, huh? see, i told you so.

we go to colorado pretty much every year for thanksgiving. every year has its traditions. and every year has its surprises. for instance, three years ago my grandma forgot to cook the turkey. then she remembered. only it was too late to cook it in time for dinner. so she decided to cook it in the pressure cooker. she said it was faster. the pressure cooker took two days to cook the turkey. my grandma called to tell us it was done. we were in green river by then. we were sad. my dad drove through KFC. greasy chicken only made us sadder. weird, huh? see, i told you so.

now we have a new tradition. my dad buys a turkey. we cook it before we go. then we make turkey sandwiches to eat on the drive out. plus we have leftovers when we come home. problem solved. only my grandpa hid the pressure cooker. and now he cooks the turkey. so there's always turkey. yet still i cooked the turkey. weird, huh? see, i told you so. i know what you're thinking. you're thinking meagan, you're full of baloney.

to you i say no. i'm full of turkey.

bad grammar makes me [sic]

A panda walks into a café. He orders a sandwich, eats it, then draws a gun and proceeds to fire it at the other patrons.

'Why?' asks the confused, surviving waiter amidst the carnage, as the panda makes towards the exit.

The panda produces a badly punctuated wildlife manual and tosses it over his shoulder. 'Well, I'm a panda', he says, at the door. 'Look it up.'

The waiter turns to the relevant entry in the manual and, sure enough, finds an explanation.

'Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves.'

-----------------------

I heart Lynn Truss.

For those of you (sad, sad souls) who may not be aware. The above joke inspired the title for Lynn's (yes, I call her Lynn) bestselling book Eats, Shoots and Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation. A masterpiece which single-handedly saved the field of editing from becoming the most fun-sucking, clod-hopping, "every party has a pooper that's why we invited you" minor on BYU campus (that honor goes to Driver Safety Education).

Not only does the book give meaning and purpose to the quest to preserve language, but it's funny.

I mean, she dedicates the book "to the memory of the striking Bolshevik printers of St. Petersburg who, in 1905, demanded to be paid the same rate for punctuation marks as for letters, and thereby directly precipitated the first Russian Revolution" for crying out loud. And it only gets better from there.

Which is why when Annie (yay, Annie) told me she was coming to do a forum I was quite excited. And definitely not let down. I expected her to be good, but I was surprise at how funny she was. Yes, I know I just said her book was funny, but once you (sad, sad souls) get past the fact that it's a book on punctuation, British authors have had a long history of humorous prose (hello! Ever heard of Shakespeare? Austen? Hyacinth Bucket?). They have, however not exactly been known for their humorous speeches (British speakers, n. see stiff upper lip, undemonstrative, milquetoast).

But just as publishing houses declared her a "completely implausible success," here comes Lynn, boldly going where no British speaker has gone before (i.e. starting her speech by saying "Hello. I'm Johnny Cash"-- most favor channeling Mick Jagger, David Beckham, or Mr. Bean). Some highlights:

• Some people accuse me of complete intolerance, and that's not quite true. For example: When I see a sign that says "Children Drive Slowly," I think, "That's a relief." Or a sign that says "Residents Refuse to Go in Bins," I'm on their side.


• However, when I go to the grocery and see a carton of Orange Juice that's "Fresh," I don't think the orange juice is "extra fresh," or "special fresh," if anything I'm inclined to think it's a bit "dodgy."


• Another sign in front of a high school that has a Scot as its mascot reads: We are the Scots who could be prouder. Obviously they've got some spirit issues.


• Or a newspaper account of a trial that stated: the defendant said his barrister had a history of drug use. Are they sure the right person is on trial?


• Once, when I took a taxi to the British Museum where I was giving a lecture, the driver asked me what I was speaking about and I said, "Punctuation," and he replied, "well I better get you there on time then!"
  

And my all-time favorite: Slow children crossing become slow men at work.

Did I mention I heart Lynn Truss?

Fernando Caba"lego"

Feña turned twenty-five on Sunday, so we had a big party with his family.

Question: What does a brother-in-law with a quarter-century under his belt want for his birthday?

Answer: Muchos lego sets and mas muchos Toys R' Us gift cards to buy mas mas muchos lego sets, of course.

And a form to legally change his last name to reflect his passion.

Luckily Taylor drew the line at that one.

vocal point

I apologize for the quality of this pic, I took it with my phone. I'd like to point out the lack of heads in the foreground though.

That's right. Annie scored us front row seats.

I now know how the beatboxer projects all the glottal stop base beats (really cool). And that they all make really funny faces. And that those stage lights are really hot. Yep, we could really see them.

They could really see us too. Which made taking this pic really awkward...

(:

you're welcome*

i had the weirdest thought today whilst draining a can of tuna.

it reminded me of the strangest thing.

it was kinda gross though.

actually, really gross.

so i'm not going to share.

consider it my gift to you.

*BELIEVE me. you'd say "THANKS."

Normal is...

...getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it. -Ellen Goodman

Well, Ellen, I'm not normal.

Let me explain.

So this one time, I haven't blogged for a while, and I apologize. In the past month, I:

Quit my job,
Quit commuting,
and Quit sleeping.
Started a new job,
Started working from home,
and Started some mega-freelance projects.
Practically totalled my car,
Practically planned out the next year of my life,
and Practically live in my pajamas.

It's been one heck of a ride (and not just the part where I spun out of control on the freeway), and I promise that as soon as I catch my breath and things go back to normal I'll tell you ALL about it.

Until then, "normal is nothing more than a cycle on a washing machine." -Whoopi Goldberg

chocoholic

Yesterday I got an anonymous delivery of these from someone both awesome and observant (thanks if it was you, btw.)

But I remembered what happened last time I had these.

So I've been careful, and this morning I only put a few in my purse to enjoy throughout the work day.

Which is why I'm tearing my purse apart like a junkie looking for a fix at 2:15 in the afternoon...


On a semi-related note, I just googled "chocoholics anonymous." That's just cruel.

me encanta futbol

i was sitting at maestro's the other day when this painting caught my eye:



"that's not what happened!" i said, before reading the title:


clever artist (:

"it was nice growing up with someone like you - someone to lean on, someone to count on... someone to tell on..." -unknown

this is my little brother, ian. he's the baby of the family.

cute, huh? (click for a closer look)

except recently i've noticed that he's not so much a baby anymore.
it might have started when he got taller than me. like 6'2" tall.
and i got an inkling when he suddenly needed a social secretary.
but i think the kicker was when i started taking him driving to get his night hours.

my little brother ian isn't so little anymore. he's almost 16! he's a junior. he plays lacrosse, piano and the cello. he cooks. he speaks spanish fluently. he changes my oil for me. he likes to play with kids. he's got a countdown to his nineteenth birthday on his wall.
and he loves my mom.

hot, huh?

oh, and don't worry. now he's teaching himself the guitar.

"is it weird in here, or is it just me?” -stephen wright

i don't scrapbook.

i tried once, but spending obscene amounts of money on paper and embellishments was about as far as i got.

but that misguided attempt and the fact that my old boss's visiting teaching companion owns die cuts with a view means i basically have enough scrapbooking supplies to start my own business. (i could probably start it out of my garage, since that's where it all is now. stuffed between my washer and drier).

but after this week, i don't think that would be such a good idea.

...

for all you people who do scrapbook, daisy d's had an office right next door. i say had because they moved out about a month ago.

they were quiet neighbors. the only thing i ever really noticed was that there were like 10 men that worked there. (but the men moved, and they took their 10 love sacs with them, rolling them down the stairs one by one.)

all was quiet for a couple weeks, until one day i looked out into our foyer and saw two women looking in the window at daisy d's. after a minute they pulled out a camera and started taking pictures of each other standing in front of the logo on the door. they then saw me and asked me to take a picture of both of them. i did so and they went merrily on their way.

that's not something you see every day, but i didn't really think anything of it.

until it happened again.

3 more times.

the last group showed up on friday and i couldn't contain my curiosity anymore. in between camera flashes i decided to ask:

me: so is this some sort of scavenger hunt or something?

scrapper: no, what makes you say that?

me: well, you're the fourth group of people i've seen this week taking pictures outside daisy d's.

scrapper: oh really? huh.

me: yeah, so i was wondering if there was some scavenger hunt in a scrapbook magazine or something that asked for a picture in front of daisy d's.

scrapper: uh...no... where'd you get that idea? that would be really weird....

...

this from the lady taking her picture in front of an abandoned office for no apparent reason.

a thousand words

heaton ranch, august 2008

3 o'clock blues

my office is usually a pretty spunky, happening place, but as soon as 3 o'clock comes around, a kind of stupor sets in.

we do all sorts of things to get over it:

aubrey peruses fashion and gossip mags. (because uneasy lies the head that wears the celebrity trivia crown.)
shea jumps on gchat. (and facebook, and blogger, and wedding sites...)
mike sneaks off to jade market for a snack. (unless it's a sugar-shock 3 o'clock, then he makes someone go with him. it makes him feel less guilty.)
i do things like this:


hey, whatever it takes...

a clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory

so i work a lot.
a lot a lot.
like 50 hours a week.
and that's just my "real" job.
then there's my freelance editing job.
and my other freelance editing job.
and the work i do for mi padre.
and the "favors" i do for mi madre.
and my pet projects.
and the eternal quest to clean my room.
so basically i work ALL the time.

which is why sleep is so important.
unfortunately, sleep and i have been going the rounds lately.
well, for quite a while actually.
and i can't even remember why we started fighting in the first place.

but this weekend i extended the olive branch.
with two little words: memory foam.
well, and one more word: down.
so, three little words total.
(but not those three little words.)
now, in addition to my mattress, i have:
2 memory foam pads.
1 down mattress topper.
1 memory foam pillow.
2 down pillows.
plus all my blankets, comforters, and quilts.
let's just say my bed doesn't look like this anymore.

in fact, i have to take a running leap for the first time since freshman year.
oh right, freshman year.
that's when sleep and i had our first big fight.
oops.
sorry, sleep.

see, it's working. i'm feeling guilty already.
(:

memory...with a crowd in the daylight...

do you ever have those times when old memories surface that you've kind of forgotten? i do.

lately i've remembered all sorts of funny things.

like that one time i lettered in football.
or that time adriane and i stole ben abbott's shoes.
or when the girls of sixty-fun cruised the streets of byu to "bling bling, daddy daddy"...


...or when shea and i skipped out on work to see david archuleta at the gateway:


yeah.

christmas come early

you want to know what the best part of quarterly reimbursement checks are?

when the first "quarter" is January 1-July 18.

shopping anyone? i know what i'll be getting:

a flag-wavin' nephew of his uncle [meagan]

i'm sure lauren will be posting some better-quality pics, but these are some of my faves:

happy first birthday, gregory!

math never was my best subject

but i still know what exponential means.

as in, the freckles on my nose are increasing exponentially.

it's everywhere you want to be.

literally.

check it:
this is my new visa card.
no, not my actual card (sorry to disappoint), but it's what mine looks like.
turns every point-of purchase into a point-of-pause in my quest to save pennies for the motherland.
pound for pound (or dollar for dollar for that matter :), it's dominating my reminder rubber band.
zions bank is genius.

my name in lights...sort of...

so i was wandering around seagull book earlier this week when what to my wondering eyes should appear:

THREE whole PUBLISHED books i in some way assisted in editing before publication!

(there were actually four i saw, but one is so brand-spanking new there is no cover image online.)

(...and i may or may not have indulged in some toploader "dancing in the moonlight" as i celebrated the first fruits of my professional moonlighting career...)

I couldn't have said it better myself.

"It's just some people in a smoke-filled room who dreamed it up. Plutoids or haemorrhoids, whatever they call it. This is irrelevant."

-Alan Stern, a former Nasa space sciences chief on the reclassification of Pluto.


Click here for the full article.

"Always read something that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it." ~P.J. O'Rourke

Newsweek is my latest habit.
I like it because it is informative and interesting.
I love it because it diplomatically presents both sides of every argument.

This article is no exception and I found it quite a fascinating read:

(click on the image to make it readable)

"The very pink of perfection." -Oliver Goldsmith

So pink is not my favorite color. Sorry Erika.

But I'm not going to discriminate when someone gives me one of these:

what's in a name?

a little stuff and nonsense to get you through the day . . . feel free post your own!

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car): Schultzie Impreza

2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie): Sweet Cream Milano

3. YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name): M-Bra

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal): Green Puppy

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born): Michele American Fork

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first): Bra-Me

7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink): The Orange Apple Tango

8. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers): Lynn Wells

9. WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (first letter of mother’s maiden name & father’s middle name ): B Leonard

10. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Halls Halifax

11. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Fall Daffodil

12. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”): Raspberry Red Dressie

13. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Chocolate Shake Maple

14. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, favorite weather element + “Tour”): The Photoshopping Thunderstorms Tour

note to self:

when you return home late on a friday night with the sudden urge to clean, DON'T!

the madness will pass long before your sheets are done drying.

and there's no way you're gonna waste your ONE day to sleep in on an unmade bed.

"Style, substance, and just the right amount of heaving bodices."

Yesterday was my roommate Kim's birthday. Since she's now "almost thirty" (aka 24), she wasn't really interested in a big to-do, so we planned on dinner and a movie at the Gateway. Over an "authentic" Chinese dinner (Panda Express w/ chopsticks), I gave her her present:

Apparently it's "the living end" (and with a review like the one I've quoted above, how could it be otherwise?)

So we canned Leatherheads and watched it instead. The whole thing (four hours). With chocolate on the side.

Now I am tired. But satiated.

And I recommend it.

(Although the only heaving bodice I saw was Mrs. Reed's as she death-rattled her way to kingdom come...)

epifunny

So I took the surface streets to work today and stopped at a red light on 13th East in front of East High (Go Wildcats!). I watched a group of students through my windshield as they crossed the street and one girl in particular caught my eye. Just as the light changed, I realized that what had caught my attention was her outfit. I owned the exact same one.

In like 1993.

I spent the rest of my commute kicking myself for burning those "classic" pieces from my awkwarder pre-adolescence.

I could have made some serious money.

Today there's a 60% chance of snow, a 40% chance your umbrella will leak, and a 30% chance your hair spray will turn to syrup.

This is what the view outside my office window looks like right now:



And I'm pretty sure this is what it looked like yesterday...

“I got my hair highlighted, because I felt some strands were more important than others.”

Actually, no I didn't. But this is a post about hair.

One time, my computer imploded, and while I was waiting for the repairs, I picked up a magazine to pass the time:

Now Rachel Bilson isn't one of my favorite actresses; in fact, I thought Jumper was lame-sauce. She is one of my celebrity matches, however, so I found myself giving her a little bit more attention.

Did you ever notice that she almost always parts her hair in the middle? I never do that. But I thought she looked kinda cute, and since we're VL (vague look-alikes (and I use vague in the broadest sense of the word (and I totally got your attention with that, didn't I?))), I decided to experiment a bit:



Conclusion: I felt like a seventies throwback all day, but that might have been my denim trousers and paisley top...

Thoughts?

"The aim of the wise is not to secure pleasure, but to avoid pain." -Aristotle

You know that soreness you sometimes get after a good workout? The kind that's just a little bit painful, but strangely feels kind of good too, because it's proof you pushed your body just that little bit harder? Yeah, I have a little bit of that from our annual Intrepid snow day up at Daniel's Summit Lodge. It's awesome (:

Unfortunately, however, it's kind of overshadowed by the lotta bit painful soreness due to rolling my snowmobile in not-so-fresh powder. Oops.

So I may not be an Aristotle, but in the words of Brian Regan, "Good job, Einstein!"

(:

West Valley

Sometimes, things just give me the winning face for days and days. This is such a time:

So as most of you know, I work for a PR agency and our bread and butter is getting coverage of our clients. Luckily, we are good at this, so can afford bakery bread and real butter. Er...anyway, when we get a sizable hit in a newspaper or magazine, we pick up a few extra copies to send to our clients, as well as one to archive for our own sense of satisfaction. Usually, we have the extra copies mailed to us, but from time to time we get a tight deadline so we go pick them up from the various publishers. For this reason, I had to go pick up some papers from the Deseret News offices which are (of course) in the BACK OF BEYOND, West Valley. The only things that go further west are Italian suits in late model sedans with empty guns and full trunks headed to the West Desert. Seriously.

Anyway, as I was heading back to civilization (with the wheels on my car going round and round, round and round, round and round) I realized I was almost out of gas (again) and so I stopped at a Maverick. I bought a car wash with my gas because my car was nasty with salt; only the car wash wouldn't work when I tried it, so I went inside to get a refund.

And that's when I locked my keys in the car.

Luckily I had my cell phone and wallet with me, so I called AAA. They said they would be at least 45 minutes (since I was SOOOOO far out in the middle of nowhere.) So I settled down to wait.

After a few minutes, the cashier of the gas station came out of the back with a wire hangar to try to jimmy the lock just to pass the time as we were waiting, but that didn't work.

So a nice old man with his twenty-something girlfriend came with some sort of wire thing and tried for about half an hour with no luck.

Then two nice young men named Jose and Manuel tried with their SWITCH BLADES. Nope.

Enter Jamal and his cousin with a hangar and a screwdriver and really loud East Coast Rap. No dice.

Finally, Leon went home and got a slim jim.

And nothing worked. And the slim jim works on CORVETTES for crying out loud.
(I'm not supposed to tell though.)

So, moral of the story: If you live in West Valley, invest in a Subaru (:

housewarming party

for those of you not on facebook, here is THE event of the weekend (:

One move saved us 15% in gas bills. Come check it out!

Tours will be given every 45 seconds. Highlights include:
*The strange European cigarette smoke permeating our front porch
*Our sad and sickly elephant leaf plant
*Kimmy's valentines on the fridge
*Our steal-of-a-deal washer and dryer
*Meagan's embarrassingly large and embarrassingly girly DVD collection
*Some fantastic culinary creations

So stay for a little, stay for a lot. Our AC deserves to come out in style...

THE DIRECTIONS:
From Provo: These are the directions from my old house, so just skip to the I-15 step. (Or start at my house, my parents won't mind...)

http://www.mapquest.com/mq/4-ACZKTgLzAg1z

Once you get to Turnberry we're in the 3rd building on your right, the last staircase before the basketball courts.

From SLC: Head south on 13th East and look for a left turn into the Turnberry parking lot right before you hit 4500 South. We're in the 3rd building on your right, the last staircase before the basketball courts.

PARKING:
You can park in any uncovered parking spots in the complex, but the safest bet might be to snag a spot on 13th and just walk in...

What a zit?

What's big and red and shiny and guaranteed to knock your ego down a few pegs?









After 3+ years, I finally got a new cell phone. Now all I've got to figure out is how to work it...

smiling to myself

When the weather is finally warm enough for Jose, the building manager, to start hosing off the sidewalk in front of the office, but the winter has been so long that the West Side morning bike messenger forgets to look out for the hose as he crosses 4th West; so he lays some rubber on the rubber, causing Jose to jerk around and dowse both Ronnie, the Jade market clerk's, perfectly coiffed Mohawk AND his sketchy cigarette in frigid water.

And it's like I'm on the 8th row of the Shamu show at Sea World--close enough to enjoy the spectacle without getting wet...

To [Intrepid] On Our Six-Month Anniversary

The days we’ve shared, like autumn leaves
All brightly-hued, have drifted by;
And Mother Time, who softly weaves
Enchantment, breathes a gentle sigh.

Half a year of memories – each leaf a different one:
Now, in the midst of wind and snow,
We dream nostalgically of summer sun,
The trees, the water – yes, we know;

Bridge with friends, a game of chess,
Mountain climbing, or country ride –
(Events one would enjoy far less,
Without the other by his side.)

But look! There are new buds ahead
Which promise to unfold
As toward fulfillment we are led
Of all the dreams we hold.

-Mary T. Hoffman

Yes, it's true. Today is my six-month anniversary of "real life."

I celebrated with a Happy Meal and some new office supplies.

Go ahead, judge me.

I have no words. That's ever happened to me before...

...Okay, so yes it has. Once or twice.

I have no voice. None. It's gone on vacation.

If I summon up enough gumption, two or three syllables claw their way up my throat. Ouch.

Of course, this is SOOO funny. especially given the fact that I subconsciously answer the phone at work if it rings more than once.

But don't worry. My friendly coworkers have been expressing their sympathies all morning.

It's not even noon and this is what I've gotten (through email of course. because if I'm mute, I must be deaf also, right?:

• Some people are considered fools.
  Some people speak and remove all doubt.
• "What flavors of ice cream do you have?" inquired the customer.
  "Vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate," answered the new waitress in a hoarse whisper.
  Trying to be sympathetic, the customer asked, "Do you have laryngitis?"
  "No...." replied the new waitress with some effort, "just...erm.... vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate."
• Doug goes to see his physician and says, "Doc, my wife recently lost her voice, what should I do to help her get it back?" The doctor says, "Just try coming home at three in the morning."
• Q. What do you call a veterinarian with laryngitis?
  A. A hoarse doctor.
  Q: How did the pig who couldn't speak feel?
  A: Dis-gruntled.
  Q: What would you call Sir Lancelot if he lost his voice?
  A. Silent Night
• 1: I think I'm feeling a little hoarse
  2: maybe you're getting a colt.
  3: I think I'll try some cough stirrup
• A friend of mine joined a Trappist Monastery, where monks are not allowed to speak. They are allowed to say three words every five years.
  At the end of the first five years my friend stood up and said, “Need new shoes”
  At the end of the second five years he stood up and said, “Need new mattress”
  After fifteen years had passed he stood up and said, “I am quitting!”
  The Abbot said, “It’s probably for the best. You’ve done nothing but complain since you got here.”
• You can see all this, at the Mounted Animal Nature Trail:
  Where the dog goes:
  [silence]
  And the bear goes:
  [silence]
  And Meagan goes:
  [silence]
  (and so on)

I just have to keep writing to myself "I love my job... I love my job..."

(:

thursday's child has far to go

In honor of the season, I'm posting my most recent to-do list...

10 funny flirting facts
By Laura Schaefer

So you’ve mastered the eye-contact game and can beckon a cute prospect with a few coy glances… but do you really know all there is to know about the fine art of come-hither? Just to make sure you’re up to speed, we culled some very surprising info that you can use to your advantage. Read on for some juicy tidbits that may up your cute quotient in no time.

1. Flirting is good for you. Studies show that people who flirt have higher white blood-cell counts, which boost their immunity and keep them healthy.

2. Think it ends at a little eye batting? Hardly—all told, scientists say there are 52 “flirting signals” used by humans. Of these, the hair flip is the most common.

3. In some places, flirting is illegal. In Little Rock, AR, an antiquated law is still on the books warning that engaging in playful banter may result in a 30-day jail term. In New York City, another outdated law mandates that men may be fined $25 for gazing lasciviously at a female; a second conviction stipulates the offender wear a pair of blinders whenever he goes out for a walk.

4. Why wait for Happy Hour? Lots of people get their flirt on during their morning commute. A full 62 percent of drivers have flirted with someone in a different vehicle while on the go, and 31 percent of those flirtations, it turns out, resulted in a date.

5. Flirting need not occur face to face. According to Pew Research, 40 percent of people who look for love online say they can easily flirt with someone via email or IM.

6. In the Victorian era, fans were the ultimate playful prop that could communicate all sorts of messages. A fan placed near the heart meant, You have won my love. A half-opened fan pressed to the lips suggested, You may kiss me. Hiding the eyes behind an open fan meant, I love you, while opening and closing the fan several times warned, You are cruel. Given how much a fan could come in handy, it’s a shame they ever invented air conditioning.

7. These days, cell phones do the flirting. In one survey, half of all mobile phone users have texted suggestive messages to keep things interesting while away from their amour.

8. Watch out, you can overdo it. According to the Social Issues Research Centre, the most common mistake people make when flirting is maintaining too much eye contact.

9. Sometimes, flirty gestures aren’t what they seem. Research has shown that men tend to routinely mistake friendly behavior for flirting.

10. Flirting is universal. A woman living in New York City and one in rural Cambodia may not have much in common, but when it comes to attracting a little attention, they both employ the very same move: smiling, arching their eyebrows, then averting their gaze and giggling. Animals flirt, too: Birds, reptiles, and even fish have their own way of strutting their stuff. Moral of the story: If the simple sea bass can act cute to enhance a romantic agenda, you can, too—so give it a go!

I'll be darned if a simple sea bass out-agendas me in romance or any other non-sketchy, non-fishy area...

these little wonders...

I've recently discovered that facebook poking produces just as many endorphins as actual tickling. The more I poke, the more I smile. The more I'm poked, the more I smile.

And there's negative percent chance of me wetting my pants.

In the debate of technological communicatons vs. face-to-face interactions:

technology-1
your face-0

8 days, 15 hours, 37 seconds

The time it took for Tay and Fena to get over their marriage and start trying to marry me off. Again.

snow day

I am fascinated by people that successfully make a living in their pajamas.

I woke up Monday morning to a 27 item "to do" list for work and at least 6" of snow. I-15 was a parking lot, so the office elected to "work from home."

I got 3 things done on my list.

):

but then again, I DID:
clean my room
balance my checkbook
go to a movie
go out to dinner
play the Wii
paint my nails
buy a dining room table
buy Lifehouse concert tickets
discuss the value of the American $
finish a book
go to bed at 10:30

so I'm basically counting that as a draw.

you're invited!

sorry the colors went a little crazy when I scanned it...