27 Going On 18

Ok, I recognize that I've blogged about looking like I'm a teenager before. However, this story simply must be shared.

After writing a complaint and threatening to sue our cable/internet/phone provider Mstar (that's another story in and of itself but be warned... Mstar is run by a bunch of teenagers and is SO SHADY), I felt a need to de-stress.

The venue: Pioneer Day Festival in Mountain Green (small town in Northern Utah)

Location: Cotton Candy stand (because who doesn't want cotton candy at 10:30am?)

I joked around a bit with the girl spinning my cotton candy who happened to have cotton candy covering her forearm like a cast. Her little brother (who couldn't be more than 17) came over and started talking to me.

17: Hey--do you live around here?

C: No... but my roommate is from around here.

17: Oh--who's your roommate?

C: Chantal Cardon.

17: Oh. Ok. So... where are you... where do you go to school?

C: Oh, I already graduated.

17: Oh, I know that... but... do you go to Weber?

C: [quizzical look]

17: Oh... you already... graduated... from college...

Yes, that's right. I was hit on by a 17 year old who thought I was a freshman in college. I didn't have the heart to add that I had finished grad school, worked for almost 2 years, and went on a mission. Let's be honest--I felt sorry for the little guy. As for me... my birthday is coming up pretty soon here. I guess I shouldn't be so stressed that I'll officially be in my upper 20s if I still look like I'm 18.

IS IT ME?

At 9am, I received a call from an unknown number. I generally don't pick up unfamiliar numbers for a few reasons--1. I hate telemarketers, 2. I don't want to waste airtime minutes on randoms, 3. I don't feel a need to talk to wrong numbers or random stalkers, and 4. If someone legitimate is calling, they can leave a message.

When the same number called for a second time at 11am, I decided to take a risk and pick up the phone. This is the conversation that ensued with the phone caller ("PC"):

PC: Who is this?

C: Uh, you called me. Who are you?

PC: Oh. Um. Well... here's the situation. Do you have a Blackberry?

C: Uh... yeah.

PC: Was your Blackberry lost or stolen?

C: No.

PC: So your blackberry wasn't stolen?

C: No.

PC: So here's the situation--my friend bought a Blackberry from his friend, and the number on that phone is your number. Verizon says that your number is on the lost/stolen phone list, so he can't activate it.

C: Well, I've had the same number for years.

PC: So you have a Blackberry?

C: Yes. I've had the Blackberry for about 6 months, and the phone number for years.

PC: So it wasn't stolen?

C: NO.

PC: My friend can't activate his phone because the number is on that list, and we're in Illinois.

C: He's going to have to call Verizon and get it worked out.

PC: Well he already has a phone that works, but he just wants to get this Blackberry activate that he bought from his friend.

C: Yeah, I'm not sure what you want me to do about that. I can't do anything about it.

PC: Ok. Bye.

After 30 minutes, the same number called back again. I refused to answer, and received the following message: "Hi. My name is Tyler. You probably talked to my friend Colby earlier. Can you go ahead and give me a call about the phone? I want to clear up a few things and make sure this isn't your phone, so go ahead and call me back."

Um, buddy, if I lost a phone, don't you think I would have told you that when you asked? Also, HOW CAN THAT INACTIVE PHONE IN YOUR HAND be my phone if I pick up when you call my number?

So much for "buying phones from friends."

Breakfast this morning.

I can't figure out why my stomach hurts. Isn't that weird?

This is what we call service?

Location: Utah County Parks and Recreation Golf Course

Activity: Service FHE

Reason: Some doofus ("D") received a ginormous dirt delivery which, when topped with grass, would eventually create a nice driving range. After recognizing that the dirt was filled with trash, one might think that D would have rejected delivery or notified a superior that the dirt was clearly suspect. Instead, D proceeded to spread the trash-filled dirt all over the planned driving range area. Genius. Did you know that plastic isn't biodegradable? Further, did you know that all non-biodegradable materials must be removed before grass can be added to piles of dirt?

Result: We got to pick up the trash. And by trash, I mean the precious treasures pictured above. Like a billion of them.

One word: Scarred.

THIS is what I live with.

This is a conversation I just had with my uber-righteous roommate ("R").

R: You shouldn't go with your boyfriend into a bedroom. Regardless of the situation (unless he's helping you pick out an outfit), people who are dating shouldn't be alone in a bedroom together.

C: Yeah, I don't see a problem with it. During college, I studied with guys in my bedroom all the time.

R: Were you dating those guys?

C: Yup. Don't think it's a problem.

R: [Grabbing Buttercup, the pear-shaped stuffed giraffe pictured here] Come Buttercup, let us pray for Catherine's soul.

America... land of the Engrish speakers.

Happy Fourth of July! Besides a wee bit of almost-swearing while navigating through traffic, today was a great day. We spent quite a bit of time with our Asian friends who are in Utah studying English, and taught them a little about the significance of July 4th. More importantly, we made ourselves fat and happy via a BBQ, some BYU Creamery Kids Meals, a small water fight involving a combination of pool water and duck/walrus squirty toys, and a serious fireworks display in the street with some friends.

Our day was topped off by a little discussion about embarassing moments while learning (and incorrectly using) a second language. Chantal and I argued that Chinese is a very difficult language and that using the wrong tone typically causes you to be met with blank stares while the person you are speaking with is either wondering why you're so stupid, trying to figure out what the heck you are trying to say, or a combination of both. Chen*, however, countered with the argument that minor pronunciation mistakes in English can cause disastrous, embarassing effects. When we didn't believe her, she launched into her two recent examples.

1. Apparently, Chen was excitedly telling her friend about her visit to Las Vegas where she "played some slots". In Chen's defense, how many of you who know a second language know the word for "slot machine"? In any case, Chen unfortunately mispronounced the word "slots" by substituting the "o" in "slots" with a "u". Completely... different... meaning.

2. Chen's second embarassment came via an innocent Facebook status change. Chen is an incredibly positive, happy, and loving individual--while you could argue that the following is an unconventional Facebook status, Chen changed her status to "Chen thinks love tastes delicious." Unfortunately for her, however, "tastes" was misspelled, with an "e" replacing the "a". Oopsie.

Yeah, she wins. I guess English IS a hard language. For this and many other reasons, I am quite grateful to have grown up in America... where I learned from a young age to speaka the good Engrish.

* Name has been changed to protect the identity of the individual involved... c'mon now... if you talked about delicious "tastes" and playing "slots", wouldn't you want a little privacy?