Breakfast of Champions

Yesterday was one of those terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days. It started with a stomach ache, and ended with spilled paint on the driveway. Oh, and I got a parking ticket.

My tummy ache led me to lay in bed 15 minutes longer than I should have, I know, but I just couldn't get up yet. Really. By the time I was ready I had 6 minutes to get to campus. I've done it before. I've get a bike with wings. What I didn't account for was the rain. My bike doesn't like the rain (or is it the girl steering who doesn't like to get pelted with rain drops?)  I was stuck in a quandary.

Walk? I'll be late. That's the 20 minute I-want-to-ponder-the-mysteries-of-life-on-my-way-to-school-option. Maybe I'll see if Typewriter Grandma could give me a ride. I call, no answer. Run across the street. All is quiet. Bummer.

I decided to drive, crossing my fingers I'd get a parking spot. I thought there was a student lot where there wasn't, so I parked in thirty minute slot. I was already almost 15 minutes late to my class and I knew we'd have a break in 45 so I figured I could move it during the break and be just fine.

I sprinted to my class. I sprinted to my car during the break. And I sprinted back to class after moving to where? Another thirty minute slot. It was all I had time for.

After class I was planning to spend the afternoon in the wood shop, hoping to build 5-10 panels and get a jump on preparation for my final show. Finding the guy in charge took longer than expected, then my Signature Card didn't have enough funds to by a shop card, then I had to wait to use a campus computer to put enough funds on my card. Long story short, what should have taken 3 minutes took 15. And by the time I was nearing my car, I saw one of those dreaded parking enforcement people in his bright yellow jacket.

Why do they wear those jackets? Just so as you're walking to your car you can dread the neon green envelope under your windshield wiper marked PARKING TICKET? What ever the case I thought I beat him. He was ticketing almost every car on my row and was still 4 cars away. As I approached the driver door he looked over and said, "Is that your vehicle?"

"Yes sir."

"Why don't you wait there then."

"That sounds like a recipe for trouble, and a ticket. I think I should get in and drive away before you get me and save myself 20 bucks and the frustration." (He didn't think this was funny at all).

"Well if you do that I'll write you up for a misdemeanor."

"Okaaaaaay. I'll stand here. In the rain. Waiting for my ticket. Awesome."

I wait as he writes up another car. I sat there wondering if this was a little bit what it feels like to wait for the noose or the electric chair or the guillotine. You wait in line patiently as they chop off someone else's head and think, really, you have to chop off mine too? Isn't three heads enough for one day?

"See that chalk mark on your tire?"

"Yes I see it."

"That's what time I walked past and marked it. If you were only 10 minutes over I'd let it slide, but now I'm going to have to ticket ya."

"Well, you don't really haaaave to ticket me actually. And it's only 7 minutes past 10 minutes..." Not to mention that more than half of this parking lot is empty. Really, who am I bothering?Did I tell you I have a stomach ache? And it's raining? Can you even FEEL THE RAIN OR ARE YOU PAST FEELING?!

"Get in your car." For rude! As he's writing up my ticket he asks, "Do you know the new parking regulations for Spring and Summer?"

"No." Do you know how much I hate you, who ever you are Mr. Yellow Jacket Power Trip Man?

"Well registered students can park in any G, C, Y, or A lots numbered higher than a 17. So basically had you parked over there (he points one parking lot away) I wouldn't be writing up this ticket right now."  

Was that little tidbit just to rub it in? Well it worked. I think you must have been raised by parents who don't love you. "How the heck are students supposed to know that? Do they make some announcement and email it out to Spring/Summer students?"

"No. It's just online under parking and registration."

"Ooooh, so I'm just suppoooosed to figure that the regulations changed for Spring this year? That's ridiculous."

By this time he had finally finished writing up four people's tickets (mine included) and was fumbling to put the green envelope in the little rain-proof plastic sleeve. I snatched it out of his hands and said he didn't have to trouble himself with that. I was just getting in my car and driving straight to the traffic office to dispute my ticket anyway.

But first I had to meet Mikey and work and vent LOUDLY about this smug little parking cop. Don't worry, only one other person came into the break room. Maybe I scared everyone else off. . .

The rest of the day went something like this: discharging a fully loaded nail gun inches from my face, splitting the panel I was building with the LAST SCREW before I was done, remembering I still had to take paint to Typewriter Grandma and then watching the gallon of black paint roll out of the car (before I had time to catch it) and spill on the driveway. Perfect. Just perfect.

Today is going to be a much better day though. Especially since I'm starting it off with the Breakfast of Champions: cookie dough.

Congratulatory

I've been accused of being self-congratulatory for saying something to the effect of, "I just don't know how I can even contain all the love I have in my heart for her." Well let me just set the record straight.

If one, when I'm talking about you I grab my heart and roll my shoulders forward while sighing deeply or two, can't find much to say beyond, "I just absolutely love [insert name here]!" you can pretty much assume I'd give you my kidney if you needed it. No joke.

I will admit, however, that on Friday I had a moment that I was not only self-congratulatory about, but outright boastful. But I honestly think the feat merited the bragging. Many of you are familiar with the Rent-A-Cop Mock Cops that BYU Policemen are. All it takes is to read the weekly report put out by the university newspaper to see that in all honesty, the don't have a whole lot to deal with. My favorites from the newest edition?

Sept. 16: Police responded to a call about three males with nets and a broom at the pond south of campus. The men were apparently trying to capture a duck. The officer told the men to leave and leave the ducks alone.

Sept. 16: Police received a call that a 21-year-old male was distributing literature about veganism near the Tanner building. Police asked him to move off campus. The man was not associated with the university.

Sept. 16: Residents of Taylor Hall reported three males making noise and pounding on their windows, including one dressed in a Spiderman costume. Police discovered they were residents from May Hall. The students explained they were bored and looking for something to do.

Sept. 17: A female walking near Maeser Hill reported seeing a middle-aged male with shoulder-length blonde hair wearing nothing but tennis shoes and a baseball cap. The man was gone when police arrived.

Sept. 17: A suspicious male was reported loitering in the parking lot by the J. Reuben Clark Building. When police arrived, the man explained he was selling his motorcycle and waiting for a potential buyer.

Sept. 20: Two men in attendance at the football game began to argue about a call on the field. One hit the other in the face. Officers intervened and the two apologized to each other, resolving the situation.

Sept. 20: A female student reported receiving a threatening out-of-state phone call at 3 a.m. The caller mentioned killing another person. Police believe it was a random phone call.

Sept. 21: A male student reported receiving vulgar and threatening text messages from out of state. The case has been turned over to detectives for investigation.

So they spend their time issuing thousands of parking tickets wrapped in bright green envelopes, and bullying students out of parking in visitor lots. But I had a serious victory over the BYU parking Nazi Regime on Friday.

I had to take the chillins to school because the 'rents were in PC for the weekend. So after running Lil' Lou to school, I took Mogli and by the time I was driving home realized I definitely didn't have time to walk. So I decided that I'd kick my smooth talking persuader skills into high gear and charm my way into the visitor's lot. OlderAndWiserToo was skeptical. I was confident.

I drove up in the 'cedes to the ticket booth and rolled down the window (a luxury Brian doesn't afford me). The Pseudo-Cop asked, "Are you a student" to which I honestly repsponded, "Yes sir I am. But . . ." and I proceeded to explain how my poor car was stranded at my parent's house and so I was using their car to run my siblings around before I had to be at work at 8 and that I would only be on campus until I got off at eleven and my parking pass that I ordered in the mail hasn't come yet so I can't park my car on campus even if I wanted to. I batted my eyes a bit and may have flaunted some girlish charm to seal the deal. Eventually, rolling his eyes, he handed over the blessed little purple paper which I proudly stuck on my windshield.

As soon as I turned the key and locked the doors, I promptly sent a few gloating text messages which were returned with messages of disbelief and hate for the fact that I can "get whatever I want" (which is wholly untrue). It just goes to show that parking is a sensitive issue for the fellow Cougs. But I am beating the system, one flirty parking sticker by one.

Truly incredible

It happened again. For the second time in two weeks I got a parking ticket.

This time, the car was still running.

I've done it a million times--taken an armload of papers, panels, canvas and boards up to my studio space. There's not a place to park near the studios and it's it too far to walk from the student lots (trust me, I've tried). Plus, yesterday, it was raining. Ruined art supplies anyone? I might as well suck on twenty dollar bills and flush them down the toilet.

So I left my car running, ran up the stairs and came back down in a matter of minutes and had already gotten the lovely little notification on my windshield. Incredible right?

Problem is, I'm too embarrassed to dispute this one. I was in the traffic office less than 7 days ago...

I'm blaming the salami

I've gotten a few questions about the salami/seagull reference in our latest edition of the week by week updates. Here it is folks:

Mikey picked up the sandwiches. Why he choose salami (cured meat? really?) is beyond me. As he got ready for work in the morning and I walked around rubbing my eyes and my belly trying to wake up we discussed various sandwich options-- salami never came up. When I asked him what brought on the sudden salami party he just said "it looked good!"and I'm beginning to wonder if he has been experiencing some sympathetic pregnancy cravings...

Whatever the reason, I had a foot long salami sandwich on my lap by noon as Mikey and I found a place to park and eat where we wouldn't get a ticket from the power-trippers that run campus. We ended up behind the Bean Museum (speaking of, has anyone else seen adds for the baby doll-animal hybrid nativities now on display at the museum? Creepy, weird and festive all at once. The bear about to eat baby Jesus' head is my favorite. No, maybe the adoring wombat).

I was ravenous by the time I got the sandwich to my lips. It had been 4 WHOLE HOURS since I had eaten anything. I snarfed half my sandwich and as Mikey and discussed our mornings I noticed a pukey feeling coming on. I got out of the car, got some air, walked around...it didn't help. Probably no more than 200 seconds after eating my sandwich the whole thing was on the parking lot, my shoes, and in my hair. Lovely huh? I hope none of the students passing by noticed.

After emptying the contents of my stomach I immediately felt better and I got back in the car and laughed. What just happened? Mikey just sat there with his mouth open in shock watching me and now the both of us were back in the car wondering if one needs to clean up after oneself in a parking lot?

Soon I noticed a seagull, and then two, and then half a dozen and then a small flock circling our car. We looked at each other knowing exactly what they wanted. The thought made me want to vomit again. I told Mikey to "oh just drive! This is disgusting. Drive! Drive!! DRIVE!!!" As soon as he moved the car the seagulls descended. Mikey kept pausing to look over his should and laugh as they picked through the barf with their beaks.

Nasty huh?

But at least it solved our clean-up quandary.

List

The As-Promised-Memorial-Day-Weekend List

• Up at 4:30 am
• Mikey laughed at my "preparedness" the night before. It seemed normal to me to have the bag packed, my outfit laid out, the snacks partitioned and in their ziplocks in the fridge, lunch packed . . . I guess what got him was that I had a bowl of dry oatmeal on the table with a glass of water and a spoon ready to be popped in the microwave. He said he felt like it was living with the Jetsons. I pulled a string and we were off!
  
• On the road by 5:15
• Took a wrong turn 10 minutes later that sent us south on I-495 until we found ourselves on some obscure Highway 201. We pulled over for directions at a gas station (a trend that continued to and from our destination) and they were surprised we had made it that far. We were set straight and were in the car nearly 7 hours until we decided to take a detour.
• Princeton was a great pit-stop.
  
• Mikey had to use the bathroom really (I mean he was waddling) bad so we asked a student where a bathroom was and he let us into his dorm. We walked up the stairs and down the hallway (past students who were moving out, past rooms with blaring alarm clocks, etc) and found the bathroom on the left. I waited in the hall and found messages scrawled in pencil here and there. While I waited numerous boys in towels walked in front of me and one went in the bathroom to shower. I felt like such a creeper-girl hanging around outside the bathroom looking at scantily clad boys.
• We looked up Paul Krugman's office and went up to see it, hoping the door was open and we could casually wave a hello. No luck. But I pressed my ear up against the door and heard someone flipping through a book. I'm convinced it's him. Mikey's not so sure. Neither of us had the courage to knock on the door and mumble something stupid like, "Hey Mr. Krugman. We read your column, but we don't agree with alot of what you say, er, but you're as close as Princeton gets to a celebrity and we just, uh, wanted a picture with you?" He had a political cartoon of himself on the door. We found it a little narcissistic.
  
• Back on the road and got caught in carzy traffic in New York. We learned to take the lower road next time. Oh, and to bring cash for the toll roads (Mikimber, the bills should be in the mail . . .)
• Got to Westborough around 8 and had a great evening getting a tour of the Chaosison's absolutely, stunningly beautiful home. And we got to check on the eggs that were recently laid under the deck by what we concluded (after some mild research) were soon-to-be offspring of the Massachusettes state bird, the Black-capped Chickadee.
• Off to Boston the next morning. Loved the:
• parks
• cityscape
• Boston Commons
• Fenway Park atmosphere (aside from the ticket scalpers who have no concept of personal space)
• Seven Subs
• Brookline
• Riding the T
• The Freedom Trail. All of it.
• Harvard
• The Hispanic man playing guitar outside the Italian Restaurant we had dinner at
• Paying less than we expected for parking.
• Church the next morning was eventful as Bishop Chaosison was released and we got hear both him and his lovely wife speak. They did a great job.
• Dinner was excellent and several times throughout the meal Emmiecakes burst into song. It was like eating with Giselle.
  
• Painting our nails. Ababy painted one of her nails. All of the colors. One on top of the next. The result was a thumb that slightly resembled one that was just slammed in the car door.
• Rockband. We sung our hearts out. All of us. It was a great time.
• Up the next morning and on the road again by 5
• Drove straight to Cape May (we avoided traffic this time by avoiding the 95).
• After looking for someplace cool to eat, nothing spoke of coolness like a hotdog stand with an old guy wearing a hotdog hat. They even sell t-shirts. The food was good. So was the price.
• We had to pay some lady sitting in a lawn chair reading Men are From Mars Women are From Venus five bucks a head to go to the beach. I was tempted to ask if I could sit in her chair for a bit an ask people for money to support my expensive reading habits. I bit my tongue, but wondered who would ever read that in public. Like way in public. As in, thanks for you cash, I'll slip it in the back cover of MY RELATIONSHIP HELP BOOK.
• Mike got sunburned and after we were walking back to the car and some guy shouted from across the street and said, pointing to his sunburn, "Dude, does that hurt?" Mike quickly put on his shirt and mumbled something about the nerve of that concerned citizen. He claimed it wasn't even that bad. Four hours later he was whistling a different tune.
• We took a ferry from Cape May to Deleware. So fun. So windy and cold.
• Mike shouted, "LAND HO!"
• We got into DC around ten and were so tired I had to bribe my body with the promise of a warm bed to get myself out of the car.
• Thanks so much to our family for making the trip possible. We're becoming quite apt moochers.