Good... And Good for You

how you know it's february. in utah. and also, you're me... you buy a season's pass to the local water park. and then you buy two new swim suits online. you get really excited about the free tea and hot cocoa at work. you go to mapquest.com and try and find out exactly how far south you could get in a day. you buy a bunch of seeds so you can get a head start on your gardening. you let the pile of sweaters in your clothes hamper get bigger and bigger because the next time you wash them you want to PUT THEM AWAY. you know exactly how many days there are until daylight savings. you spend at least 5 minutes every day trying to convince your sallow reflection in the mirror that the sun will come out tomorrow. yes, it involves singing the song. i don't like february.

the other day my boss had me deliver a gift to a senator he'd had a meeting with. that gift was a copy of the qu'ran. wait. have i mentioned that i work for an iranian billionaire? but that is not the story. this is the story. on this occasion i had the great privilege of meeting a racist black security guard.* and i don't mean "racist" like "he hated white people, " i mean "racist" like after i'd handed him my i.d. and laughed at his comments about my height because haha, good one, i am tall, he looked over to his friend the asian security guard and said, "man! my brain isn't working today! it's like i'm puerto rican." and the racist black security guard's friend, the asian security guard, laughed. i looked around for the rabbi and the priest and the lifeboat that i was positive had to be around somewhere. then, the racist black security guard asked me what i was holding. i said a gift from my boss to the senator...

well... turns out i AM employable. yep. i finally got a job a couple of weeks ago and if i weren't so afraid of jinxing myself, i'd go into specifics about how much i'm liking it so far because, seriously, it might very well be the exact job i've been looking for. but the jinx is real so i'm going to stay away from specifics. besides, i'd hate to become one of those "happy", "sunny", dare i say "shiny" bloggers who speaks earnestly, using words like "neat," and manages to write mostly in the third-person omniscient narrative (how DO people know what their spouses/children are thinking and feeling?), which, in my home would mean speaking on behalf of ziggy. or my grandma's ghost. which actually, yes yes, would be way cooler than what my blog is now. a taste... the other day before i left for work, i woke up ziggy from his mid-morning nap and said, "now ziggy, i'll be home by four o'clock. be good while i...

i'd like to tell you about something that happened to me during this, the year of our lord two thousand and eleven. but first, a warning. i am about to get very single on you. and also very mormon. i allow myself about one of these posts a year. i went speed dating a week or so ago. correction! 30 year old, single mormons can't admit that we need serious help interacting with members of the opposite sex and also we really can't even admit that we're single, so technically i went to something called "speed friending." it was as awkward as it sounds. i mean, for the most part it was fine. every time there was a pregnant pause between me and whomever i was supposed to be making small talk with for approximately two minutes, i would just ask the question on the sheet of paper i picked out of a bowl when i walked into the room (because us 30 year old, single mormons cannot even be trusted to our own small talk devices): "are you a beach,...