Looks Like I Have A Type OR Passing Fancies

In general, I don't have too many celebrities crushes. I've always had a thing for Matt Lauer. I think Collin Firth is charming. I'd go out with Scott Foley. But these are just passing fancies. I almost hesitate to mention them. Why?

Well, because once in a while, I've succumbed to crazed teen-fandom. And there's a little something all these guys have in common (besides their posters being on my bedroom wall during my formative years):

It's a type of man I'm trying not to go out with in real life anymore. Nothing against them, of course, but I just don't think I'm their type. ;)

Speak, then Think. No, wait. That might be backwards.

My life is funny. I get into a lot of trouble because of the things I say, often jokingly.

Take, for example, my dad's latest gift to me:

Last weekend, Dad had his once-in-a-lifetime Oryx hunt. I asked him last week if he was planning on having the thing mounted if he got one. He said no, because my brother Ben already has one up at the cabin (along with the rest of his menagerie). So, I (jokingly) said I'd put it up my house. And guess who shot an oryx? With the help of his hunting team (Uncle Leland driving the truck, Ben spotting it, Ben's father-in-law Dan helping my dad line up the gun, and my father pulling the trigger) Raymond, my father who in all his years of hunting has shot only a handful of animals, managed to take down what he called a "mature buck." I'm guessing this translates to "the old slow one that couldn't get away." Hahaha! I haven't actually seen it, because I'm not super-into dead animals, but I understand the horns are broken from years of fighting. But Dad says the taxidermist can fix it, and... he's giving it to me. He told my mom, "I'm having it mounted because Rachel really wants it." My mom was doubtful, but said, "Maybe she can hang it in her black-and-taupe guest room. It would look great in there." But no. Father says it must have a place of honor somewhere in the front of the house. Lesson: Be careful what you joke about. This is also why people used to always bring me motion-sickness bags from their airplane rides (clean ones, of course).

In other news, I read the BEST book this weekend:

If you haven't read something by Kate Morton yet, get to the library right now. I also love her other books, particularly

Honestly, this woman is brilliant. At once, you can't put her books down, but are loathe to finish them because they sweep you away into this brilliant, layered world of pleasure. There are always a few surprises here and there, even if you guess some of the mysteries in advance. Read Kate Morton!

Another book I turned to recently feels like an old favorite of mine, Emma Magenta's "A Gorgeous Sense of Hope." I picked it up a while ago on a whim, and it always makes me happy.

"Hope" hits close to home these days-- a friend and I reached a shaky armistice this weekend. I don't exactly feel better, but it's certainly a beginning.

Yesterday

I went to a funeral yesterday. It was for a man I didn't know. He was married to one of my childhood friends, for just a few months. But she really loved him, and she was so sad. I cried. I cried for her and for her son and for all the other people who would miss him so much. It wasn't what you'd call a fun way to spend a Sunday, but it makes me glad to know I was there when it counted, and I'll still be there to mourn as she mourns and comfort as she needs it... if I can. I'm a lot better at telling jokes than at being sensitive and comforting.

Giving Into Temptation

Like probably 95% of the rest of you out there, I'm trying to get myself a kick-butt body. The only think kick-butt about mine at the moment is that anyone looking at me can see how wimpy I am and say to themselves, "Yeah, I could totally kick her butt."

That particular resolution started a couple of days late this year, and so I'd consider this Day 2 1/2 of my new lifestyle. So far, so good. I'll periodically mention successes, I'm sure, but I'm not your life coach, so don't get mad if I don't. Actually, I'd prefer that you just forgot those last couple of paragraphs so one of these days when I post a new picture on Facebook or you see me in person you can say, "Wow. Good job."

That's not what I wanted to talk about anyway. It's not cool to brag about how awesome you are when you're only 2 1/2 days in to a lifestyle change. Instead, let's talk about failure. Not mine, everyone else's.

KIDDING AGAIN!

Well, kind of.

You know, any old Joe can have a blog, and there's a mighty temptation to pretend someone is reading it. And sometimes there's a mighty temptation to pretend no one reads it anyway, so you justify saying whatever you want. Either way, it's tempting sometimes to rip somebody a new one (though, usually I abstain, because, as was previously mentioned, I'm wimpy and anyone in the world could beat me up). So, in an effort to make other people feel better about their own failures, I'll add mine to the list by complaining about annoying people and things that have bugged me in the last week or so.

If you need to take a cheese break to go with my whine, feel free to pause.

1) There's a woman who works for one of our customers. It's not professional to tell you who (and actually, it's not professional for me to vent, but there you have it). She called me today to tell me there was a check ready for us. She is super-duper rude, though. She never returns my calls or emails when I need something from HER but she wanted to complain that I'd not got a lien release back to them yet. I couldn't-- I was waiting on a release from my supplier. When it came in later this afternoon, I sent it along. Not really what I'd call a big deal, but this lady likes to act like everyone is always bothering her. She reminds me of a co-worker I used to have who struck fear in the hearts of everyone at ___ ______. It wasn't because she was impressive, she was just a snot. I think these two are related. If I ever meet her in person, I'd be sorely tempted to kick her in the shin, but then again, there's the problem of everyone in the world being tougher than I am.

2) I was recently reminded Jane Austen's brilliant novel, "Emma." No, I didn't meet my own Mr. Knightley. No, I'm not coaching my own Harriett Smith. Unfortunately, I had a run-in with a modern-day Mrs. Elton. So I was talking to this woman at a casual gathering of holiday cheer, when she kept mentioning her fingernails. It was very odd, but I'd just had a pedicure, so I can understand the good feeling of having at least SOME part of my body feeling good and presentable. But this woman didn't really want to talk about her nails. She wanted to talk about her enormous diamond ring. It was very vulgar. I'm all for women workin' their bling, but to call attention to it is gauche.

3) And because it's a day ending in "y," I recently had ANOTHER man tell me that I was in love with him. No offense to my male readers, but REALLY, members of your gender think rather highly of themselves. I thought of a half dozen snappy responses, but I ended up just shaking my head and not saying anything. If it makes him happy to think that, then fine. No skin off my beautiful nose.

Stay tuned for me to wax poetic about people talking to you at the gym. Seriously, if I've got my headphones on, I'm not interested.

Every Day's a Holiday with Rachel

Welcome, Welcome 2011. I think you and I are going to be good friends.
So far, so good. The year has included partying with my peeps at a New Year's Eve Dance (and, thanks to a guilt-trip from my friend Nelson, began kiss-free), a blow-out for my 3-year-old niece later that day, "Whip It" and "Strictly Ballroom," and a third party for my 80-year-old friend Lola. Three parties in 4 days is not bad my friends.
This year I'm going to try to incorporate some holiday magic all year long. Today, we're going to call things Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for orange-infused dark chocolate. I'm thankful for the memory of staying out til 3 a.m. with my friend Reuben during our freshman year of college and how proud I was to almost get home after my roommate (that Brittany claimed to have mono, but I think she was tired all of the time because she never came in until the rest of the world was waking up). I'm thankful for my pellet stove that heats my house, and for the lavender-scented eye mask (which, I know, I swore I'd never wear, but can you say awesome?) that allows me to sleep on my couch, warm and toasty but without the glare of the fire. I'm grateful that Santa Claus brought me a Crayola-brand light toy for Christmas so I can feel 5. I'm giddy about my free subscription to "Real Simple" magazine. I'm thankful that Pam and I are going to see "Wicked" at the end of the month and that when I cleaned out my piggy bank yesterday, I felt $48 richer.
Now let's fast-forward to St. Patrick's Day, and I'll tell you why I'm so lucky. I'm lucky to work in the family business, which is only a two-mile commute, and sometimes I can even sneak in a 15-minute break in the massage chair in my office. I'm really lucky to have my family so close-- most of us in-state, and within a 45-minute radius. Those who live further out are worth the car trip, and it's doable. I'm lucky to have a brother who wants me safe, and shows it by building a fence around my property and giving me (pink) pepper spray for Christmas. I'm lucky to have a sister who can not only do my hair and makeup, but also make me laugh with her little voices she does. I'm lucky to have a house and a car and clothes to wear and food to eat. I'm lucky to have traveled so much. You should hang out with me. My good luck will surely rub-off on you.
And for today's last holiday installment, why don't we get a jump-start on the holy season of Lent? Again, you're right when you say Mormons don't observe Lent, but I think it's a great idea to take some time to figure out what you can give up to get closer to God. That's better than a resolution, because you've got a higher purpose in perfecting yourself. One thing I'm giving up right now are the draining relationships in my life. The other day I woke up and said to myself, "Sego, you've been down this road before. Cease and desist!" So goodbye, weird boy who is always negative. You are officially on probation. Adios to you, Mr. I-Like-You-When-It's-Convenient. So long to all the men who creep me out. Buh-Bye to those girls who only call when they need something. Because I figure with all the time I save not worrying about why I'm unhappy with these people, I can go do some good where it counts.