Thursday, May 22, 2008

Sorry, Jim Halpert

There's a new man in town — I've fallen in love with David Cook (and, I promise, I'm still a good Mormon).

That place in my heart used to be strictly reserved for The Office, but since the writer's strike, American Idol has completely taken over. Sorry, Jim, I'm all about David now.

I fell for David Cook the first time I heard him sing "Music of the Night" — and I even kind of think Phantom music is overplayed. His version of "Hungry Like the Wolves" was even better. Dad had to "mop me off the floor" that night, to quote my mom. Last night, I was totally crazy for that "Sharp-Dressed Man." I'm even willing to overlook the ridiculous cowboy boots as long as he's holding that left-handed guitar.

Seriously. Look at that face. How can you not just love him?

I told Hannah I was going to marry him. She believed me. And as soon as David Archuleta gets on the ball and baptizes him, I'm totally going to make it happen.

So, congratulations to David Cook. I can't wait for the CD.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

Breaking the ice? Well, apparently, it was already broken.

Jenny and I saw this really hot guy at Subway in Kaysville. I did the quick neckline/ring finger check (I mastered it at BYU-Idaho) and saw within seconds that he was, indeed, an unmarried returned missionary. Jackpot.

We both started talking to this guy in a feeble attempt to get him to notice me in the approximate minute and a half that it took to order a sandwhich. I was holding Molly, not Sadie, in hopes that he would realize the child WASN'T mine.

"What's that?" Molly asked, pointing to a mystery meat. I saw that opportunity and jumped on it.

"I don't know, Molly, let's ask," I said, and turned to the gorgeousness himself. "She wants to know what meat that is."

"It's salami," he said, and I nodded as though it interested me. Molly kept asking questions.

"What's that?" This time she pointed at something that, to me, looked like some sort of cooked black bean. It was black and liquidy and had little bits of something in it. I'm a big fan of black beans, but even I couldn't imagine someone wanting them on a sandwhich. I was curious about that one.

"And what's that?" I asked again, pointing and smiling what I hoped was a wry smile.

"That's ... water," he said, not looking up.

I think I might have said "Oh," but if I did it was barely audible. Had I seriously just failed to correctly identify water in a black container? I tried to say something like, "Of course it is!" or "Yes, Molly, I was right, it really IS water. You should have believed me" but, unfortunately, I'm not that quick on my feet. I just kind of stared at it, perplexed, while Jenn tried to cover for me.

"What's ... it ... for?" she asked, stifling a laugh while I still just looked horrified.

"To wash the tuna off the scoop."

Now we know. And I think I can honestly say that's the first time someone has been uninterested in me because I wasn't smart enough.

Answer: She's Been Domesticated

I knew it when I saw the baked potatoes.

It happens to all of us eventually, I suppose. But when I moved in to an apartment with LeaDawn at the beginning of Fall Semester 2006, she was so independent and unattached. I didn't think the day would come this soon. But come it did.

I went to visit LeaDawn after I got finished at the temple the other day. Daniel was going on a retreat for Sports Activities that night and needed to bake some potatoes to take up to Victor for dinner. LeaDawn wanted to help him. While Daniel was in class, LeaDawn was working on some floor plans on her laptop. Many people wouldn't see anything out of the ordinary. But I know LeaDawn, and I saw something big happening.

She was working from home and cooking dinner for a boy. Do you know what that means? Answer: See Title.