Did I Just Say That?!?

There are so many moments in my life I wish I could take back.
I should have come equipped with a Ctrl + Z button. Undo, undo, undo.
With the chances of this happening being highly unlikely, perhaps I should just try a little harder filtering what comes out of my mouth.

Last year in the architecture program, I had to present the concept for a bakery my partner, Elizabeth, and I designed. The format of this presentation was a jury review, meaning as a team we would present our project to a jury of four or five architects/professors/etc., who would then ask us questions and critique our design.
The group in front of us had a pretty tough review, and the jury was particularly harsh. They had designed a western hat shop, and placed their bathrooms in the dead center of their building, which the jury saw as a very big, distracting mistake.
Elizabeth and I were supposed to present right after, and I began to feel nervous. If the same topic about bathrooms was brought up, we might be in trouble for a very different reason. We only planned for one bathroom in our entire building, reserved for employees only.
Sure enough, a few minutes into our review, one of the jury members, a principal at arguably the most popular firm in Salt Lake, asked us where our public restrooms were located.
Without any filtering or thought to consequences, I said the first thing that came to my mind.
"In the hat shop."
He didn't laugh. Sure, everyone else in the room were trying desperately to suppress their giggles, but not him.
I don't think I'll be looking for work with that firm anytime soon. So much for being memorable.

Losing Nemo

I don't handle death well. I have an especially hard time dealing with the fact that I'm a pet killer--a serial pet killer in fact.
As a freshman in college, I was given a fish as a gift from my "boyfriend" at the time. I was having a bad day and it was supposed to make me feel better. I can't say it worked, because seventeen hours later, my fish was dead, and I was even more sad than before. What's worse is that a fifty cent fish outlived our relationship,  hence why "boyfriend" is best put in quotations.
After a beautiful candlelit funeral for Squishy the fish, I bought myself four new fish and one frog. Within days, my fish tank had turned from aquatic home to battle ground. The fish ate the frog, then turned on each other, leaving only two survivors. Out of those two, one committed suicide by jumping from the tank during cleaning.
You would think I would have given up, but not quite yet.
Just a few days later my boss told me she wanted to start a fish tank at work, and I strongly supported this idea.
The new tank was quickly up and running, but after a few months, Betsy was the only fish left.
It was my turn to clean the fish tank (now that I think about it, it was always my turn to clean the fish tank--weird).
Anyway, this time while cleaning the tank, I brought Betsy over to the sink to return her back to her clean, shiny home. Somehow, in this process, Betsy leaped from the tank and into the sink, landing on the bars of the drain. I reacted as quickly as i could to grab Betsy before she slipped down the drain, but I was not fast enough.
Betsy smacked her tiny tail against the cold damp drain, launching herself into the air. Her fishy body repositioned itself in the air, so that when she fell back down towards the drain, she fit perfectly between the gaps of the drain, disappearing into the plumbing below.
I didn't know how to react, and after a few seconds of stunned silence, I began laughing so intensely I had to cry.
My boss is still upset with me despite how many times I remind her, "All drains lead to the ocean."

Experience the Megaplex Difference

I have worked at a movie theater for three and a half years, but recently every day feels like one day too long.  I mean, I love my job, but how many tickets or popcorns can one sell before enough is enough?

I currently work in the floor department, meaning I tell guests where to go, then clean up after them once they get there.

I sympathize with another supervisor who often has the following conversation with himself as guests leave: "How did you like the popcorn? --Oh wait, you don't know? Because you didn't eat it--you just threw it on the ground!?!"
It's moments like this that make it easy for me to put on my "Megaplex Smile" and keep coming back.

Just the other day, while helping out in concessions, I was reminded why I keep this job.
I was busy popping popcorn when I needed to run to the back room to get more nachos. I looked around and asked a semi-new concessionist, Brooke, to watch the popcorn for me. Without hesitation Brooke said yes, and that was that. Based on the surety of her answer, I assumed she knew what she was doing, and I left the stand.
When I came back a few minutes later I found Brooke, quite literally, "watching the popcorn."
The second she saw me, she began frantically waving her hands in front of her face, screaming "It's burning!! What do i do?!"
I couldn't even try to pretend to be mad.
I imagine I was having the same feeling a mom has when she finds her little kid--in the pantry--covered in peanut butter.
Too cute to yell at. 

Toilet Paper Bandit

I have always been lucky to have awesome roommates or at the very least, awesome stories to tell about terrible roommates.
One of my most memorable roommates was a girl named Lynnette. I say girl, but that's a little misleading considering she was a 30 year-old super senior. 

Lynnette was a very cheap person, and decided early in the semester the she didn't need to help buy toilet paper for the apartment. 

When politely asking her to buy toilet paper didn't work, my other roommate, Amberly, and I decided we would approach things from a different angle. We chose to simultaneously empty both bathrooms of all toilet paper.
We put our plan into motion, and when we reconvened in the hallway a minute later with arms full of toilet paper, I was confused when Amberly started laughing.
"Why did you grab your towels?" Amberly asked.

"Clearly you've never run out of toilet paper" was all I could respond with. 

The next time I saw Lynnette walk into the bathroom, I couldn't help but immediately start laughing as the door closed behind her.
It only got funnier when she didn't come out for 20 minutes.
To my satisfaction, Lynnette bought toilet paper the very next day.
The moral of the story: Don't mess with Randi. 

Also: Never underestimate the desperation of a girl with no toilet paper.

What's in a Name?

Before you read this blog, listen to "Please Don't Tell Her" by Jason Mraz.

Music helps me understand my world, and after listening to this song, I understand what it's like to be the Girl with the Broadest Shoulders. I think I've been the Girl with the Broadest Shoulders for years. 

Let me explain.

"She was the girl with the broadest shoulders, but she would die before I crawled over them. She is taller than I am. She knew I wouldn't mind the view there, or the altitude with a mouth full of air. She let me down, the doubt came out, until the now became later. Say that it isn't so, how she easily come, how she easy go. Please don't tell her, cause she don't really need to know.....Please don't tell her that I've been meaning to miss her, because I don't."

The Girl with the Broadest Shoulders is no linebacker. She's just a girl. A strong, tall, beautiful girl, who is perhaps too strong for the broken hearted boy singing about her. 

I think I know how she feels. She's successful, happy, and loves life. But there's one problem. She has these broad shoulders, shoulders I assume she developed from carrying some huge responsibility she feels she has. She's carried it as long as she can remember, and it's something she'll continue to carry, because that's just who she is. Her broad shoulders will only seem to get broader each day, scaring away those boys who can't seem to see past them. 
But one day, she'll find the perfect guy, who doesn't see her as too tall or with shoulders too broad. 

Until then, the Girl with the Broadest Shoulders will continue, smiling and laughing as she does. How she easily come. How she easy go.