mostly probably

I’m watching my sister Meghan’s kids tonight while she and her husband go and make out and stuff. I like my nephews despite the fact that babysitting them is generally super difficult.

I try to be a good babysitter and develop their young minds by building with them, being creative, and teaching them really great things, but they just want to sit and watch Spongebob. I promise I tried so hard. “Please Dax, let me just teach you the ‘i before e’ rule. Please, Tucker, let me show you what I know about dangling modifiers.’”

So you see it’s not easy. Especially because Spongebob is NOT surprisingly hilarious for a children’s TV show, and the 20 minutes the boys sat there mesmerized by all of Carl’s antics, I did not even get sucked into it once.

It wasn’t all bad though. Don’t take this the wrong way or report me or anything, but it got me thinking about how much more simple relationships would be if adult men acted a little bit more like my nephews. Here are a few examples.

1. At one point, Dax comes racing through the house yelling my name. I don’t want him to wake up his baby sister so I remind him in my sternest whisper to be quiet. And the sincere honesty of his response is what seems to be missing in every male above the age of fifteen: “I’m sorry, Brittany,” my five year old nephew replies. “I just wanted you to come sit by me.”
2. They don’t criticize. You can sit on the couch and eat a macaroon, followed by a piece of pizza, followed by an assortment of chocolate (it’s just the mood I’m in this week, I promise when I don’t want to gouge my eyes out I’ll be better), they don’t hassle you about it. Sometimes they’ll just look at you and say something macho like, “Hey remember when I chopped a piece of wood in half?
3. Little boys don’t laugh or giggle or make you feel embarrassed when you (and I use this word for my mother’s sake only) toot. What’s so bad about a fart? (Sorry Mom, it just didn’t feel right.) Because little boys don’t care. They don’t think you’re unladylike or disgusting or suddenly one of the guys. They just keep watching cartoons.
4. They’re still somewhat modest about their bodies. Vanity is probably one of the singlemost unattractive qualities a guy could ever possibly possess. So when my three year old nephew was getting his pajamas on and had to hide so I wouldn’t see him, I thought about how interesting it is that men now will find any excuse to be as naked as possible at any opportunity when really, for the most part, we are not incredibly impressed with what they have to share.
5. My nephews go to bed at seven o’clock. This leaves me with plenty of time to sit and hang out with myself, watch Scrubs and SVU reruns, and not think about anything I don’t feel like thinking about. In an ideal relationship, a man will go to bed (or simply disappear) early enough for me to get all of my shopping and eating done. Every once in a while my nephew comes out just to make sure I’m still alive and then goes back to his room. I appreciate that. I like it when people want to know I’m alive still.
6. Little fellas are just more fun to watch TV with. When you’re babysitting little boys, no one is around to tell you that you’re silly or stupid or immature for laughing hysterically at Spongebob Squarepants. And when something funny comes up and you forget to laugh, there’s always someone there who wants to know, “Don’t you think that was funny?” It’s nice to be validated.

One thing that doesn’t change, and the jury is still out on whether or not it needs to, is boys are still incredibly arrogant. I have heard about my nephew chopping a piece of wood in half in karate about 50 times (which is actually pretty awesome, if you ask me). Tucker is obsessed with his muscles. But I’m 26 years old and I still fall for the arrogant ones. It’s my lot in life, but I don’t mind it so much. Just give me another macaroon and I’ll say whatever you want me to.

Yup. Some of my Central Utah friends. They is cute. Northern Utah calls.

Do come get mugged with me when you have a moment. I have mace.

Excited, however, to be spending a little more time with my Northern Utahs/Village Inn.

One step closer to Layton Hills, Michelle. Here’s to finding an apartment close to the exit for the outlets. I need new work clothes.

Today I had the worst interview of my life.

I had a good initial interview with this company a few days ago. The woman interviewing me seemed to really, really like me but gave me the whole, “We’ll let you know, thanks for coming in!” line as I was shoved out the door. Still, she said I was a good fit and the letter they had me write (to see if I know how to write letters) was really great.

[Quick side note: I don't know why legal assistant jobs require extra tests but they do. At every legal assistant interview I have ever had, they have made me either type up a letter, edit a document, draft a pleading, order an attorney's lunch, or find a specific section in the URCP. Being a secretary for a lawyer is not that specialized! Come on!]

Anyway, today I had a second interview with the same firm with the attorney I would be working for. It was bad. Super bad. So bad, in fact, that when he asked me why I should be hired instead of the other 100+ applicants for the job, I just went for broke and said, “Because I have worked for bankruptcy attorneys before, I’m familiar with their general clientele, and I still came in for a second interview.” He chuckled, and I added, “Plus, I write a mean ‘we can’t represent you’ letter. And that’s all I can think of.”

After I said this, he excused himself and was gone for a couple minutes. He came back in and offered me the job.

So that’s that. I will be the assistant for an attorney in Ogden(!) who specializes in bankruptcy. Super exciting, and I’m glad my hard-earned degree is good enough to get me a job that I once was able to get straight out of high school. But now I’m not stressed about money and I’m not stressed about what I’m going to do with myself during the day. I’m not stressed about being a total waste of space, and I no longer want to bawl my eyes out with the frustration and the injustice of it all. I AM EMPLOYED. Do you understand me? EMPLOYED.

I am still stressed, just a little bit, about the fact that I have nowhere to live, and I’m still not crazy about living in Ogden. Remember how Ogden is terrifying? My office is on a better side of town, but the fact remains that while I was eating lunch before my interview (going to lunch before interviews calms the nerves like you wouldn’t believe), a toothless man lay prostrate on the sidewalk laughing hysterically just outside the cafe. It worries me.

A comprehensive list of everything going on right now.

1. A neverending stream of Facebook Scrabble games with Marci. I love being graduated. We’re so successful!
2. Babysitting. I’m babysitting again tonight. Jenny must not have read my last blog about this very thing. Lily and I to discuss our evil plans. I’ll let you know.
3. Me + awesome bfish = short-lived and awesome. I miss it. Please don’t feel sad for me though. Well, do feel sad because it’s sad. Butplane rides are still not fun and he lives in Portland.
4. Trying to find a job. Trying to convince myself that I might be able to handle living in Ogden if the one interview I have had that actually went well really truly went well.
5. Work on my editing things and my transcription things. Turns out it’s hard to work all that hard when there is a Facebook Scrabble game going on somewhere.

And that is all. I have had a lot of help and my resume has been seen by a lot more people thanks to my friends who have friends or my friends who have jobs. Back to editing. Yay!

For the most part, I try to be a good person. I open doors for older people and people who have their arms full. I occasionally buy lunch for the person behind me in the drive-thru line. I always give my hair stylist a good tip whether she butchers it or not. I sometimes write nasty emails but I always try to apologize when I regret it later. I always say thank you when a door is opened for me. I volunteer to babysit for my friends when they want one night–just one night–without having to stress about their kids being alive.

I don’t expect to be applauded for doing these things. That’s not why I do them. I just realize that every once in a while someone needs a break. And that includes babies. I babysat for Amanda and Ross last night while they stayed in Salt Lake for the night, just the two of them, without their girls. This was not a big deal. But from the moment Sara and I made eye contact, her big blue eyes piercing me to the very soul, I knew we were going to have problems. I knew right then what I have long suspected.

Babies hate me.

It is absolutely true. And as a result, bad things happen that cannot be explained when I’m babysitting babies, but which I feel guilty for nonetheless. Babysitting Beckie’s boys last year resulted in a mysterious poop being strategically placed under the crib. Babysitting for Becca’s little girl resulted in… alright, nothing disastrous happens with Anakha. Babysitting for Meghan’s kids resulted in… I can’t think of a disaster there either. But it is sort of a mini-disaster every time I enter the room and Macie screams her face off.

Babysitting for Amanda’s kids resulted in the following:

1. Sara went to bed with nothing but a diaper on.
2. Emma went to bed in jeans. I don’t know if she wears a diaper to bed, but she (Emma, the three year old) told me to put one on her, so I did.
3. Emma had chocolate hearts and two chicken nuggets for dinner.
4. Sara sucked on a chicken nugget for dinner.
5. Amanda and Ross were stressed out and had to come home early because their usually incredibly happy and good baby screamed the entire time I was there. Hence, the “babies hate me” comment.

This morning after Emma and I had a donut each for breakfast, we watched a movie about baby Jesus at Emma’s request. I’ll just go ahead and take credit for the fact that Emma is apparently the master of the nativity story.  I think I deserve one small victory.

Okay, I had a weird day yesterday and an even weirder night. I am at my friend’s house watching her kids tonight and can I just say how very little I actually know about babies? Anyway, maybe it was the combination of the off day, the very little sleep, and sleeping (very little) in Amanda’s awesomely huge bed… but I had a weird dream that I absolutely must get out in the open before I forget.

I was sitting in my parents’ library in Argentina (they have a library in my dream) and reading one of the missionary’s scrapbooks. This is the missionary that I had a heathen-to-missionary crush on and that’s all I’m going to say about it. But we’ll call him Elder U.

So I was reading Elder U’s mission scrapbook and on the back page he had written a list. The list was called Things I Am Concerned About and Need to Check Up On When I Get Home. Very creative. I don’t know if Elder U is creative or not (I actually know nothing about him except where he served his mission), but he definitely isn’t when I’m sleeping. Anyway, the list was as follows:

1. –
2. Something about playing on the swingset?
3. Brit

That’s right. #1 was blank. Anyway, so I’m home and I’ve forgotten all about it. I’m in the library in my box/apartment (in my dreams, I have a library in my box/apartment too) and Elder U turns up suddenly and he’s behind me. I knew it was him because, although I didn’t see him, he said that he had read my blog and was flattered that I mentioned him. I don’t think I ever mentioned him, but his exact statement was: “I didn’t think you would remember me until I read the word ‘blowers.’ And then I knew!”

For some reason it was clear to me that Elder U and I had some inside joke about pronouncing flowers with a “B” instead. Intriguing. Anyway, so he stood up and I felt embarrassed for having talked about him on my blog (apparently it was a very intense entry because I cried in my dream).

I guess one of the reasons I wanted to remember the dream is because it was probably the only time I ever realized that I was dreaming while I was dreaming. When he said “blowers” I thought about my old Ghanaian friend Joe who used to pick me flowers and pronounce the word “frowers.” So when I was dreaming I said to myself, “This is not right. You’re confusing Elder U with Joe, and frowers with blowers.”

And yes, I am just blogging because I am unable to go back to sleep. And yes, I am just blogging because I want to remember my dream. And yes, I am just blogging because I feel like it. Try and stop me.

Today I started doing some freelance editing for the company that my friend Amanda writes lesson plans for. I mentioned something to Jonny about how editing projects are given on a sort of first come first serve basis so unless I am home checking the website queue every two seconds I’ll never know when there are new things for me to work on.

Here is where things get super romantic (and I’m actually not being in the least bit sarcastic).

My computer nerd programming genius boyfriend says, “Oh, I can write you a script that will send you a text or an email every time there is a new plan available for you to edit!” and starts plugging away. Maybe ten minutes later I get a text: “You have new plans available to edit!” Nothing is more attractive than being able to spit out a script (I called it code and got chastised) to make my life easier.

Forget flowers. I prefer complex computer programming.

I’m feeling all sorts of loving today. Here is a short list of just some of the things that I absolutely love right now.

1. pink towels
2. $2 socks
3. salt and pepper
4. gift cards
5. Amanda
6. Subway sandwiches
7. freelancing
8. oregano
9. Guru.com
10. oregano
11. Maroon 5
12. pepper jack cheese
13. my writing samples
14. movie soundtracks
15. dancing
16. pool
17. karaoke
18. puppies
19. books
20. Golden Grahams
21. plastic cutlery
22. my green bag
23. lip gloss
24. Bath & Body Works
25. Meghan
26. bright colors
27. pink faux print heels
28. KSL Classifieds
29. my laptop
30. this chair
31. Hippi
32. Wal-Mart
33. body pillows
34. orchids
35. Keane
36. writers of nonfiction
37. Christopher
38. webcams
39. all you can eat French toast
40. smell of Liquid Plumr
41. my resume
42. Garamond (the font)
43. friends
44. going out to lunch
45. phone calls
46. commiserating
47. gourmet pickles
48. bowling
49. printer
50. Scrabble

The end! I love all those things and so many more things. And that is all.

The title of this blog post comes from one of my favorite movies ever, one that I still try to watch on a weekly basis. In fact, I might be able to convince me to watch it tonight. Gets me every time. Almost like the Sylvan Learning Center commercials. Oh gosh. “It’s your… report card.” I’m choking up. I tried to find a video of it but trust that anyone with half a soul will no exactly what I’m talking about.

But the point is that I’ve been complaining a lot about not being able to find a job. This day out of the last two months of trying to find something–anything–has been the worst. I honestly have felt more discouraged and depressed today than I have in a long time. So as usual, on days when I’m feeling a bit (or incredibly) homicidal like this… it helps to take myself out to dinner and a movie. I did just that (Confessions of a Shopaholic) and got home to a message from my friend Amanda who got me an in with her boss where she pretty much writes book reports for a living (is that about right?). And then I felt embarrassed and silly when I realized she wasn’t the first of my friends to do this for me.

So thanks everyone for getting me interviews, for sending my resume to brothers, for looking up links to random library employment websites (you have to admit that working at a library would be the best job ever), and just for calling me and letting me know it’s okay to want to punch someone in the middle of Relief Society. While it’s true I still feel pretty much worthless… it’s good to know I have people who think I’m somewhat employeeable. And “employeeable” is a word now. My degree in English has to be good for something, and making up words seems to be just the thing.

I’m setting the record straight. Everyone keeps asking me questions about things. Probably because in the last two months I have managed to change my plans every two and a half seconds. I will attempt to answer every question I have been asked in the last two months with the following blog post.

1. I am not moving to Texas. I decided not to move to Texas after I went to Argentina to visit my parents. While in Argentina, I came up with a glorious plan to go on a mission. Spending your days surrounded by cute missionaries will do that to a person. I didn’t want to move to Texas and then have to fly back to Provo to go to the MTC. And also, if I lived in Texas, the chances of me getting called to a Utah mission go way up. I have spent 25 years in Utah. No thanks. It’s true, I’m selfish. Anyway, so please don’t ask me the most annoying question possible: “What happened to Texas?” I’m not going and the more people ask me that, the more likely I am to randomly punch people in the face for no apparent reason.
2. I am (probably) not going on a mission. As mentioned, the mission plans were plans made while in Argentina, spending time with my missionary parents, hanging out with missionaries, going out and working with missionaries, and pretty much being surrounded by missiony things. I came home after two weeks of this and was certainly very gungho about mission ambitions. However, I would need to pay for it mostly by myself and have no job. Without a job, I don’t know where I’m living long-term. With no long-term housing plans, I have no permanent ward to go out from. And also, I’m in my late twenties. I’m old. Too old, anyway, to serve a mission. It’s still an option. But it’s not a likely one. I know this makes people mad. If that makes you mad, you should keep your opinions to yourself.
3. I do not have a job. This is a great source of stress in my life as everything seems to hinge on it. I have now been looking for a job for two months with no signs of the torture ever ending. I have looked everywhere. I do not exaggerate. Honestly, everywhere. I am looking at pretty much whatever I can get from technical writing jobs (which I should be able to get thanks to my degree) to receptionist jobs (which I should be able to get since technically a monkey could do this blindfolded). I am looking all over the world. Literally. I have looked everywhere in Utah. I have looked in Portland. I looked at projects in Australia, Africa, and Korea. My thinking is I need to move somewhere and then try to find a job there. I’m thinking Virginia.
4. I still do freelance. From the very beginning, I knew that this would not be a full-time option. I do transcription. I make, on average, $100 per month. That’s an average. Meaning last month I made $200 and the month before I made $52. People act like this job is a lot more glamorous or a lot more fruitful than it actually is. It is not really fruitful at all. As the clients I do work for get more freelancers working with them, the less work I get assigned to do. Right now they’re adding on new contractors all the time. They pay new people less. So new people get more work. Old people get less. It’s backwards, I know. And it’s a sensitive topic. Don’t bug me.
5. I still love pizza and root beer floats more than anything in the world. This requires no elaboration.

I guess that about covers it for now.