Infotrax, How may I hurt you?

"I mean... help you!" I giggled. It wasn't really funny when you think about it. I could have potentially been talking to a money- loaded client willing to hand over some massive amount to the polite happy receptionist (yeah right.. but i can still dream). Luckily it was a laid-back employee off sight from our Orem Head Quarters.
"Well. you can start by not hurting me!" Jeff laughed.
"I'm so sorry! Oh my gosh. I don't know what I'm saying. I'm just... crazy!" Luckily no one is offend and we both laughed harder despite the fact I felt like a complete idiot. What kind of strange slip of the tongue was that? When I worked in retail I had horrible thoughts all the time about how i wanted people to die in various ways to get away from me but one never slipped out. Since coming to Infotrax in 2006 I have been much happier, at least I think I am. Maybe I have some subconscious death wish for others. Or maybe it could have something to do with that the fact that i was reading and the word, "hurt" was in the sentence i read prior to picking up the phone.
I do frequently answer, "InfoTRUCKS, how may i help you?" but i don't have any explanation for that one.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

I hope not, unless you like incessant loud chirping coming from the ceiling in your bathroom. It’s irritating… and weird and makes for an unsettling bathroom visit. Plus it smells like a zoo in there (more than usual at least). Why? A crazy (I'm guessing drunk) bird decided to fly up a vent on the side of the house and make a nest and now her babies vocal chords are growing along with their skeletons from her never-ending need to feed them. They love to make abrupt loud noises causing randomly spaced disturbances throughout the 1st level of my parent’s home. The worst part is as i mentioned earlier- the smell. It smells like something to the effect of droppings, bad breath, dirty feet and sewage. I’m no animal hater, but these birds need to get out away from our previous peaceful restroom. My dad is going to carefully pry them from the space, after which I will scatter air fresheners throughout the house to regain control of the odor and live happily ever after.

(Not actual picture of bird- but it is the right Species)

The Windsheild Warning

Last Sunday while driving home from St. George Mike and i got pulled over by a power-infused or really bored police officer. We instantly rolled down the windows smiled angelically and silently hoped, "PLEASE BE OUR FRIEND." The cop arrogantly asked for the registration and insurance while pushing up his sun glasses- pleased with himself, as if he has caught some evil genius duo that has been wrecking havoc on the peaceful city of Filmore rather than two young adults singing in the car ignorant to his existence. We hand him the proper papers. He smirks, haughtily grabs at them and waddles back to his car (his clothes were rather tight). We whisper among ourselves hoping he wants to have some fun and scare us a little-but when we see him approaching with more papers in hand and we hang our heads. He informs me i have a warning for the crack in my windshield that is so vast i will never pass registration's emission and inspections. I told him i just went to jiffy lube where i was told the crack was fine and had it filled (which is actually true). He gruffed with hands his ample hips, "It won't pass," and i retorted -slightly annoyed at his implied superiority- "OK," and we were on our way rolling our eyes until they fell out of their sockets, well... almost.


If only i had new vibrant hair that would have caught his attention and mesmerized him into not being so incredibly anal. Oh well. At least i have this hair now- and it looks like this (Thanks Ces). Which if you can't tell the difference from before- is much redder and darker.... and that face is supposed to be saying, "Look at this: it's my new hair." Not the, "Man, i need a straw to suck some air in" which it could be mistaken for.

Objects In Life Are Closer Than They Appear

This morning the security systems man came to check to make sure everything was running correctly here at Good Old InfoTrax (our company specializing in customized software and commission plans for all your party-plan or MLM needs) while the mailman walks in and delivers our mail. I stand up and go towards the mail container but seem to forget or somehow manage not to see the MASSIVE fan in my pathway (even though i am constantly complaining about how hot it gets up here and how the fan is my only refuge from the heat) and it comes crashing down- making an incredibly LOUD smash and hitting my foot (yes it does still hurt). Both men turn to look at me and i say, "whoa!" and proceed to pick up the fan, and gather that mail pretending i am actually really coordinated and that things like this don't happen to me all the time. They mailman turns back and says, "bye," and the security man continues he work.

It's almost incredible how i somehow manage to fall or hit into things that i am constantly surrounded by in my environment. Just last night i hit my head on the counter top above my parent's couch. I have lived at this house for how long? 14 years or something? All i can do is shake my head and wish i was born with more coordination.

It's raining and i love it.

Thin Fabric of Society

I usually think i have nothing to talk about (well. that i want to be available on the web), and that even if i did, why would anyone want to read it? But, that doesn't really matter- because i can state whatever i want and no one has to read it if they don't want to. What i have to say today goes a little something like this:

Friday night i went with Mike to Ruby River for his work party. From there we went to the Provo Cinemark to see "Price Caspian" paid for by Mike's work- Shelf Reliance (Shelf Reliance is your one-stop-shop for all of your emergency essentials. Featuring our patented line of Food Storage Racks, emergency kits, food storage, and customizable emergency planners, Shelf Reliance has taken the guesswork out of emergency preparedness – just FYI).

As we walk into the theater we see that it's going to be a sold out show, with limited open seats left. We find a couple together in the second row from the front, but as we venture towards them the (I’m sure lovely) people behind us have their feet on the tops of the chairs. Normal people in this circumstance realize that the numbers are against them and they take their feet down to make room for those who need seats- thinking this will happen mike continues to walk down the aisle. The forgettable man in sneakers slightly shifts his feet as mike walks by, while his (I’m assuming) date with tan skin, blue eyes and bottle blond hair keeps her NASTY BARE dirty pedicured feet firmly planted on top of mikes would be chair, avoiding our gaze. Mike (I’m sure disgusted at the thought of having had someone’s exposed feet above his head) then backtracks and sits in the chair just before the sneakers. I give the girl the biggest "stink eye" I can conjure up; sit by mike and say, "That is revolting. I think I’m going to vomit right here." Mike just laughs and nods. I decide not to vomit since there is already enough junk on theater floors, but I just think during the opening previews- SERIOUSLY PEOPLE? We're living in a society here. What happened to common courtesy? I thought we existed in a culture where we were actually aware of others around us. It appears the fabric that holds us together is thin, and becoming more threadbare as I type. Everyone in row 2 of theater 10 revolved around this typical Utah blonde (not that I’m saying all blondes at this way, but it seems this particular girl fits every negative stereotype prevalent in Utah). It makes me sick to my stomach. Where does one start to feel entitled to certain treatment- showing complete disregard and a lack of respect for other individuals? I know where I would put the blame, but seeing I don't know her particular situation, its just hearsay.

Moral of the story- stop being a freak and act like a human. And if you are ever in the movies, please turn off your phone, take out your crying baby (or better yet, get a babysitter) and PLEASE PLEASE don't put your smelly, rancid bare feet up on someone else's chair. The end.

How Did it go you Ask?

Amazing. My hair is shorter and nicer and better. Cesiley is the Queen of all haircuts. She is also a great yoga do-er and surprisingly good at board games. She has promised to be my friend and hair-cutter for life... that is until she leaves insane Utah and gets her own salon and becomes famous for helping create a young and upcoming celeb's new look. She is cool and looks like this: