Dear God,

Not to complain or anything,

But giving me zero logistical intelligence was NOT fair.

I’ve been lost and late ALL day long. Construction, closed roads, road dividers and my own inefficiencies have kept me lost, driving around, hot and INSANELY frustrated ALL day long. Not to mention the effect it had on my gas tank. Ugh.

I even printed Google Maps to make my day efficient – closed roads, construction and zero intelligence made that a waste of time and paper. Sorry Environment.

I’m so frustrated my hands are literally shaking. I have somewhere I have to be today at 5:00 – please let me drive straight there, eh?

And PLEASE STOP THE PRINTER FROM BEEPING.

Love,
Brittney

Aramco's Unsafe House

In Dhahran, there is the main street you enter the compound in, through the front security gate.


At the end of this main road, there is a house. The street turns left or right, and right in the middle is a house.

So on this main road, you can go faster than on a residential street.

People go out and party, drink (illegally, of course) copious amounts alcohol, come through the front gates, speeding, and drive straight… into the house at the end of the road.

And by people, I mean over the last 50 or so years, maybe 3 or 4 incidents. I wasn’t on the compound for most of them – but the legends of the incidents live strong in the Aramco youth.

One was a drunk guy on a motorcycle – right through the house.

Aramco responded by making a speed bump in front of the house.

One was a guy in a car – he actually fell asleep/had a heart attack/passed out from being so drunk with his foot on the acceleration. He sped up, hit the speed bump, and flew into the house, getting stuck in mid air.

Aramco responded this time by putting a big sign in front of the house, with arrows pointing to the left and right, showing you couldn’t drive straight. They also CONDEMNED the house. Which translates into, they deemed it unsafe. It was to remain forever empty, in case some other fool decided to drive straight into it.

When I was in 10th grade, my sister burnt down our kitchen. Me, my Mom and baby sister, Bob, were in the states at the time (she burnt a piece of plastic with a lighter and then threw it into the trash can, where it exploded and ignited our kitchen).

Maintenance made us move out. Everything we owned had to be packed and moved into a temporary home. But before they could find a vacant home ready to be moved into, they needed a temporary couple night stay home for us.

They put us in the condemned home. I wasn’t here for this – it was Dad, Mikail, Camree and Taylor. Dad was nervous about being in there, and made everyone sleep in the back room, to the furthest corner.

Ah, good times.

Dr.McDreamy and the Unfortunate Underwear Incident

*Disclaimer - Ok, this is a pretty personal post, but… It is MY blog. I can say whatever I want. Plus the only people read it are close friends and family – so whatever. *


So I went to the neck and spine doctor yesterday, finally.

I went into the exam room, and they handed me a gown to put on.

I took off my pants and realized – I am wearing old underwear with holes. The band is coming off, and there are HOLES.

Not only that – but somehow, I managed to put my underwear on inside out. Yes, that's right. Inside out and full of holes.

I’m sitting there, laughing to myself feeling so stupid, and thinking the only thing that could make this worse? If the doctor is young and cute and single.

But what are the odds that a spine and neck doctor is young and cute and single? That would happen in someone else’s world, not mine.

Well, apparently the fates decided to mess with me.

He was #1 – really cute, #2 – single, #3 – A practicing doctor and #4 – Flirting with me.

Really flirting with me. Staring at me, asking me personal questions, flattering me. He kept smiling at me and calling me “Miss Brittney”. Yeah, that's cute.

He even asked me how a cute Mormon girl like me was still single? (I wanted to say because I hadn’t met him yet. KIDDING.)

And the whole time I’m thinking – oh gosh. Wait till he sees my underwear.

I’ll spare the rest of the details – but he did check me out once I was dressed and on my way out the door. So maybe you can’t judge a book girl by its  her cover panties.

All I can say is I wish I’d listened all those times when people talked about making sure you have clean underwear on always, in case you are in an accident and the EMT guys have to rip them off of you. Well, I can vouch for my cleanliness – but not my cheapness. I am a changed woman. I’m throwing everything out and starting new.

Although, I must confess I think being in an accident and having busy EMT guys tear your nice (yet possibly over-used) panties aside is far less humiliating and noticeable than having Dr.McDreamy see you in panties with holes in them.

Mice

Yesterday, Nancy comes over to Julie and my desk, holding her shoe.

“There is a mouse!”

I’m not wearing shoes. No socks. Totally roughing it at my nicely carpeted desk (Nancy sits in front of me and to the right. Like, I can see her if I really wanted to).

So we have a mouse problem. Awesome. I’d actually prefer that to the Amazon bloodsucking bedbug/tick/unkillable creature that infested the office last summer. Some genius soul traveled there, purchased a hammock, and kindly hung it on the 4th floor, where the alien-to-Utah creatures reproduced in abundance (did I mention this genius soul worked for Intel – who occupied the building BEFORE we moved in? Which means the bugs lived for something like 6 months in an unfinished 4th floor with no people? And the building was sprayed specifically to kill them).

Mice.

So, Nancy was all ready to kill the mouse with the heel of her shoe.

Seriously? I can think of a thousand better alternatives than that. Most of which don’t directly include me, but include one of the guys who sit near me.

Today, there is all kinds of commotion in the cubicles behind me, and the guys come over,

“Did you see the mouse!? It ran right by you.”

Great. They are moving in, closer to me. Naturally they would.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not afraid of mice. But I don’t LIKE them. I don’t like the idea of some nasty furry running rodent around my feet, scurrying around me and touching me and startling me.

After the mouse goes scurrying by, I message the Office Manager, and let her know there has been another sighting. Her response?

“The mice are either spooked or comfortable to be out in the open like that.

Would you like me to request some traps around your cubicle?

*so far so good*

They would most likely get the sticky ones - which would mean you'd most likely see and hear a mouse trapped on those sticky things. They squeal like crazy when they are stuck on those things. Then if you don't throw it away, it will die and decompose. Kinda gruesome, actually.”

Are you kidding me???? Seriously?

NO THANKYOU.

I’d rather have them running past me than agonizingly/slowly/loudly dying and decomposing next to me.

A moment later, I get an IM from a lady who works next to the Office Manager.

“Squeek Squeek”

Funny. Now the whole 4th floor is in on my pain – and not only that – they think it’s funny.

Now i'm reduced to a covered shoe only policy, and I keep my feet off the floor.

Perfect.
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I’m in a meeting. One of the guys walks in, and asks about my dating life. Am I engaged? (This is everyone’s but my favorite discussion)

I give him the death stare."No, haven't met him yet, thanks for checking in."

Julie: “It’s ok; he probably died in the war in Heaven.”

Great.

Thanks, guys.

Love,
Brittney

Jurassic Park, Party for two

- If we put the white cake and the chocolate cake together, it will be like an oreo.

* Do you really think it'll taste like an oreo?

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-How did there get to be two cakes?

*Well, we were both making a cake, and we didn't realize...

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-I think it calls for eggwhites. Do you know how to do that? I think it calls for oil. Do you have the right kind? You need a pan. You need to spray the pan - here, let me.

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Yellow Mexican truck on hydrolics

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Spilling the sacrament cup ALL OVER. (Those things hold more than you realize)

Mom, I caught a gnome and he’s in the closet!

*True story. I work with the lady who this happened to.*

Lady is at work, when her 22 year old son who has severe autism calls her.

Son: "Mom, I caught a gnome!"

Mom brushes off the gnome comment, and tells the son she'll be home for lunch in an hour.

Son: "But Mom!! I caught a gnome! It's in the closet!"

Again, mom brushes off son and tells him she'll be home in an hour.

An hour later, she comes home to find her son pushing skittles under the closet door. The closet is closed – and an assortment of furniture and appliances are jammed against it, making any exit or entry nigh impossible.

Son: "Mom! There is a gnome in the closet and I'm feeding him skittles!"

Mom removes all the furniture from against the closet and opens the door, to find a dwarf standing there.

The man is a Jehovah's Witness, and was proselyting door-to-door, when the autistic boy thought he was a gnome, forced him in the closet and proceeded to keep him alive on skittles.

The lady said the dwarf was really nice about it – realizing the kid had severe autism.

Hey – at least he got skittles out of it. I'd sit in a closet for an hour for free skittles.

 Love,
Brittney

Micah 7:7-8