I was in Holladay, a city on the east side of Salt Lake, today and there were swarms of junior high kids everywhere I looked.  And oh my god, junior high kids really are pretty annoying. It’s fine; you’re supposed to be annoying in junior high.  I’m sure I was totally annoying.  In fact, I know I was.  It’s not like I was trying to be annoying, but it just happens so easily at that age.  So, anyway, don’t judge me when I say these kids were annoying as shit.  I know my mother was probably thinking the very same thing.  She works in Holladay and there were masses of them at the snow shack place in front of her work.  I could just hear the sighs she was producing.  She’s a sigher just like everyone else is a breather, but I’m sure the sighs tripled with the flood of so many kids that were forcing her to look at them.

Anyway, that was kind of a tangent.  What the swarms of kids really made me think about was how grateful I am to not be in school anymore.  Learning is cool and all, but thank God I no longer have to receive a grade for my learning.  For some reason that just sounds torturous at this point in my life.  I was a really good student, always on the honor roll, blah blah blah, but I so don’t want to go back.  Especially since it may or may not have taken me like 9 years to finish college.

Now that school is back in session, I’m also reminded that summer is pretty much over.  This is lame because I pretty much haven’t had a summer this year.  Why can’t the summer last longer?  Doesn’t mother nature know that smelling suntan lotion and chlorine makes me happy?  I guess I should remind myself that Halloween decorations also bring great joy to my life.  Oh, and that fall walks are the best because the air is so fresh and brisk.  Ok awesome, I’m totally on board with this back to school, seasonal change stuff.  Hmmm… what should I be for Halloween this year?!

Have you ever felt like you could go postal at any moment?  No?  Oh. Well, I am on the verge of losing it any day now.  I mean, of course, I’m going to try not to lose it, but I’m just saying it could happen.  There are people that are far more exhausted and overburdened than I am, but I still need a serious break.  You know when you just get to the point where you can’t fully function anymore and you know that anyone in your vicinity is in danger of your wrath?  And if anyone asks you a question, your response is always something like, “I do not have time to even begin to think about figuring that out right now.”

The thing is I hate people like this.  These are the people better known as martyrs.  And I so don’t want to be a martyr.  So, instead of going full on Sonie-on-the-cross, I’m just going to start throwing back shots.  What?  It could work.  I mean alcohol can totally have a numbing affect and I am all about that right now.  Wait, have I talked about drinking more in a past entry?  Why don’t I listen to myself?!  Listen, if you see me in the next couple of weeks, PLEASE offer me a drink.  FORCE a drink on me.  It’s for my own good.

I am by no means a nerd.  Ok, I’m a little bit of a nerd.  I am asleep by 10:00pm most nights, can’t remember the last time I did something wild and crazy (what would this even be?) and am always the designated driver.  I can’t really help it though.  I’m just so damn responsible.  I always have been.

Responsibility is not necessarily a bad thing.  It’s just sometimes a boring thing.  Which, by the way, I am totally blaming my parents for.  Don’t misunderstand.  They never told me to be responsible.  Instead, they were so loosey goosey (yes, I said loosey goosey) and busy being less than exemplary examples that I had no other choice (still love you Mom and Dad).  Someone had to be in charge!

Back in the day my responsibility was complimented.  Adults were like, “You are wise and mature beyond your years.”  Now, I’m an adult, and other adults are like, “You need to relax.”  I totally agree… with both statements.  So, I’m going to continue to be responsible, but I’m also going to let loose.  Do relaxed, cool people say “let loose?”  Whatever.  The point is life really is too important to take seriously (I totally read this on a greeting card).  Here’s to the new, more fun, less serious me!

Rob and I bought the house we live in over five years ago.  In those five years we have managed to learn four names of our neighbors. I’m not really sure why we’re so anti-social.  We even kind of want to be those people that are buddies with all the people on the street.  I went as far as to  volunteer Rob to be a neighborhood watch captain (I’m such a good wife, I know).  Turns out this isn’t the best way to get to know your neighbors.  Well, it could be because you’re basically a glorified flyer hander-outer, but we stick the flyers on their door and run, rather than taking the time to introduce ourselves and have a little neighborly chat.  And when our doorbell rings we’re like, “Who the hell is that?”

The neighbors across the street, we’ll call them Jane and Dick for anonymity reasons, are the ones we talk to the most and our interaction usually sounds like this:

Neighbors:  “Wow, your yard looks so beautiful!  I just love the lilies.  You guys must really have green thumbs.”

Us:  “Oh, thanks.  We actually have no idea what we’re doing.  We’re just trying to keep up with you guys.”

Neighbors:  “Well, it looks great.”

That’s it.  Or, sometimes we’ll meet in the street and complain about the bad neighbors to the west of us whose yard looks like shit and who have built a skate ramp in the garage (which is next to our bedroom) that they use, you guessed it, when we’re trying to go to sleep.  Jane and Dick are strange folks though.  A couple of years ago the neighbor to the east of us was in poor health so we made a pact with Jane and Dick that we would take care of her backyard and they would take care of her front yard.  Rob just so happens to be a nice guy, so he thought he’d do them a favor by mowing the front lawn one week.  Two seconds into the mow, Dick came sprinting across the street yelling, “Rob, stop!”  Turns out Dick didn’t like how short Rob was cutting the lawn in addition to the fact that he wasn’t mowing on an angle.  Dick nearly had a heart attack.

And then this morning I was at the gym working out and Jane came in and settled on the machine right next to me.  She was like, “Hi Sondra.  So this is how you keep your beautiful figure.”  And then she proceeded to break out her scriptures (really, on the elliptical?).  I think it was just for religious show though, because she then immediately called someone on her phone and proceeded to talk the entire rest of my workout.  She was out of breath the entire time, which I’m sure was causing an enormous amount of annoyance for the person on the other end who had to listen to panting for a solid 30 minutes.

The other two people we know seem super normal and super cool.  And every time we talk to them (which is like three times a year), we’re like, “We should totally hang out with them.  They seem cool like us.”  Then a year passes and we realize we suck at being friends with our neighbors.  Any advice?

I’m an extremely observant person.  I mean I can like figure out exactly what is going on in someone’s life after eavesdropping (what, sometimes it gets boring waiting in line) on a conversation for three minutes.  I could be a detective in all seriousness.  The observing I’ve been doing lately is not so mystery novel-like though.  I’ve just been noticing ridiculous things while driving to and from places and surfing the internet.

One of the most important observations I’ve made in the last week is that Taco Time is now open at 7:00am!  Thank God, because this is exactly when I crave a greasy taco and a side of tater tots.  7:00am… Is this really necessary?  Anyway, while driving I also discovered that certain people may not understand the meaning of being “spoiled.”  I was driving behind a car whose license plate cover read, “I’m Spoiled, My Husband Loves Me.”  First of all, that’s just a stupid thing to put on a license plate cover (is there a good one really?), but the worst part was it was on a Ford Taurus!  I almost pulled up to the lady, rolled down my window and shouted, “You should have asked for a Jag.”  Ok, I might be acting snotty.  Maybe a Taurus really is a sweet ride for some.

In addition to tacos anytime, I realized you can now have a drink the size of your entire torso… to go!  Ok, I’ve known about these for awhile… You know, the GINORMOUS big gulp cups you can find at places like the 7-11 that make you nervous someone might actually try to drive with the thing and cause an accident because it blocked their entire line of sight just due to the size.  Well, I saw a 7-year-old kid chugging one of these down at a water park this week.  There was a dark liquid coming out of the straw (read:  soda) and he didn’t take his mouth off of the straw for like a solid five minutes.  The mom was sitting right next to him with her own matching mug.  Holy shit Mom, what went through your head when you decided to buy your kid 1,000 calories of sugar?

Lastly, I discovered this morning that you can find porn by searching for just about anything.  No, I’m not looking for porn.  I was actually googling “kitchen countertop pictures” (these exact words) and jackpot! there was a picture of a half naked lady on, what else, a kitchen countertop!  Ok, it’s soft porn, but still.

I am totally a fan of any holiday that can 1) get you out of work or 2) give you a reason to blow shit up.  In Utah we’re lucky enough, or blessed enough depending on how you look at it, to have two of these in the same month!  We really should feel special, fellow Utahans.  Everyone gets the fourth of July but then we get a bonus twenty days later.  Thank you pioneer friends!  Plus, it’s not just like some lame little holiday.  Oh no, it brings on like the third biggest parade in the nation.  Yes, I said nation!  That’s what my mom told me anyway.  The pioneers would be so proud.

Most of the celebrating has no real connection to the pioneers.  I mean yes, there are some freaky people that dress up in long ass dresses and bonnets and push handcarts around in the 99 degree heat, but other than that, our celebrating pretty much involves eating, drinking, watching parades and blowing things up.  I’ve actually renamed it Pyrobeer day.  Very fitting, don’t you think?

Brigham Young definitely started something cool when arriving in Utah.  There’s a good chance that he was just tired and hot as shit after having traveled for so long and so he thought to hell with it, this is going to be the place.  However it went down, it’s all good with me.  There is no way in hell I’m going to push around some handcart in the heat.  Listen, I know they suffered.  I don’t need to experience the same misery.  However, if it means I have the chance to catch candy thrown from a float and write my name in the air with a sparkler, I’m good to go.

I will start by admitting that I am not the world’s most patient or tolerant person.  Hey, I’m also not the world’s most impatient or intolerant person either. Unless you ask my husband.  He may have a different opinion.  Anyway, I swear that no matter how much I work on it, there are still going to be times when I want to shake people with extreme force.  Here’s my list, not my complete list but a sampling, really.  Feel free to add your own.

• Writing a check at the grocery store. What year are these people in?  And for God’s sake, if you’re going to write a check, don’t wait until you hear the total before you even begin to fill out the damn store name.
• Talking on your cell phone in a public bathroom – or any bathroom, really.  Is it just me or is it really awkward to be talking to your friend while squeezing out a nugget?  Even if it’s just number one, I’m pretty sure the phone call can wait.  Can you imagine hearing this loud “plop,” asking what the noise was and having your friend tell you that was their poop hitting the toilet water?
• Displaying inappropriate bumper stickers or license plate covers. I’m not really a fan of the bumper sticker in general, but I’m especially not a fan of ones that say things like “No fat chicks, truck will scrape” or “4X4’s eat more bush.” Nice double meaning you nasty bastard.  This should be the first red flag to any girl considering dating these douche bags.
• Loud talkers. Do you know these people?  These are the folks who think they are the ONLY ONES in the restaurant and proceed to talk to the people they’re with at a volume that is completely unnecessary.  Do they not realize how loud they are?  Or maybe they want everyone to know the finite details of their life?  Listen people, WE DON’T CARE, SO KEEP IT DOWN!

Now, share your annoyances.  Come on, it’ll feel good to get it off your chest.